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legiblyloathed · 1 year

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Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 1)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: Okay, so the little blue haired menace has been rotting my brain for the past week, sue me. I tried to get him out of my brain by rewatching Gravity Falls, only for the episode “The Hand that Rocks the Mabel” to inspire a whole fanfic. Straight up water on a grease fire. Anyway, enjoy.

I always forget how much of a hassle moving is until it’s time to actually do it. Weeks spent selling and giving away half of my belongings, trying to shove the rest of them into boxes, then taking all of them into a new location only to have to figure out where all of them should go in the new space; it’s on the list of most mundane yet stressful life events a person has to put themselves through.

These were the feelings that hung around my being like a dark cloud for the past few weeks, but now, as I finally set my final knickknack in its chosen spot, I can feel the sun breaking through. I stand up and stretch as hard as I can, trying to wring the residual tension out of my spine. Even with my reduced number of belongings, it’s a lot of work to unpack them all, especially when working alone.

I didn’t have to do all the work myself. Within minutes of hauling stacks of boxes into my new house, I’d been approached by numerous rather colorful people, all very keen to lend a hand. As the newest neighbor in town, I was a curiosity to them, after all. I’d declined the offers, not wanting to place any burdens on the shoulders of my new potential friends. Looking back on it, that wasn’t my smartest move. Or maybe that’s just my aching muscles talking.

I’m dragged out of my tired contentment by the sound of a knock on the front door. Relaxing with a heaving sigh, I stroll over and peer out the peephole. Standing on my porch is a large, multicolored bird. My eyes dart to the plate of cookies balanced in her wings. With newfound excitement, I yank open the door and greet her with a smile.

The bird almost appears startled at this, the cookies on the plate jostling as she jumped. “Oh dear!” She shuffles the plate to her left hand, her right settling upon her chest as if to calm her heart. “You startled me for a moment!”

I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Settling down, she waves her free wing dismissively. “Nothing to apologize for, I’m a bit prone to fright, is all.” As if remembering their existence, she extends the plate of cookies towards me. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I do hope you like them!”

“I’m sure I will!” I pull the plate from her grasp and hold it carefully to my chest, my mouth watering at the sugary smell. “They look and smell delicious, thank you so much…” I trail off, realizing in embarrassment that I never caught her name.

She seems to sense my hesitation, and beams in reassurance. “My name’s Poppy, Poppy Partridge.” I give her my name, mentally thanking her for the help. “It’s very nice to meet you, we haven’t had any new neighbors in a long time.”

“Really?” My head tilts to the side. “Why not? This place is beautiful.”

“Oh, I can’t say myself,” she sighs. “Suppose there’s just not much to around here.”

I shrug, trying to appear lighthearted. “It’s a pity.” She nods in agreement, and the conversation begins to lull. Not wanting to leave on such a sour note, I ask, “Out of curiosity, what do you like to do around here?”

“Me?” she squawks, looking taken aback. She fidgets with her feathers, her wings wringing around each other. “I suppose I like to bake, especially when the weather’s nice enough for a picnic.” I can almost see the lightbulb turn on above her head, and she turns her much cheerier gaze to my own. “Say, the rest of us were planning on a picnic this afternoon! Care to join us? It’d be a good time to meet your new neighbors.”

A sense of anxiety washes over me. The idea of being among that many strangers with such late notice flutters around in my stomach like butterflies. Without thinking, I begin to shift back and forth on my feet. “I… I don’t know, it’s very sudden…”

The bird wilts a bit, looking down at my porch. “Oh dear, it is, isn’t it? You must still be so busy with unpacking.”

I look up at her, my anxiety curdling into regret at her disappointment. I reconsider the situation. What’s an hour or two with a handful of strangers? There’s only nine houses in this town, counting my own, I can handle it. Having made up my mind, I shake my head. “No, no, I already finished unpacking. I’ll be there.”

Poppy perks up. “You will?” I smile, hoping she can’t see the hesitation in it. “That’s wonderful news!” She flaps her wings in excitement before stopping with a gasp of realization. “I have more baking to do, than! I’d better get going,” she says, turning to leave with one last wave of her big red wing. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”

“See you soon!” I shout back, waving with the hand that wasn’t clutching the plate of cookies. As she goes further from my field of vision, I feel myself slump, the excitement of a new friend and a batch of treats wearing off to remind me of my exhaustion. My hand falls limp to my side and I stare at the plate in contemplation.

Nap? Or snack?

I pluck a cookie from the tray and take a bite, feeling myself melt at the incredible flavor. I scarf the rest of the sweet down before heading back inside, picking up another one as I go. Maybe just a few before I rest up.

—————————

I snap up on my couch, almost falling off of it in my sudden awakening. What time is it? A quick glance at the clock on my wall reveals it to be mid-afternoon, and I throw myself off my resting place so fast I nearly hit the floor. I scramble to the window and see a small crowd of people in the distance, the sounds of talk and laughter wafting in through the glass. I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t… that late. After a quick change and a once over in the mirror, I hurry out the door and towards the picnic.

As I approach, the jolly sounds become clearer, with voices all chattering their cares away. Colorful blankets are scattered across the clearing, each rife with sandwiches and sweets. I really hope they aren’t upset that I didn’t bring anything. As I scan my surroundings, I pick out Poppy as she talks with a caterpillar and head in her direction, relieved at the semi-familiar face.

As if on cue, my way is blocked by a short girl in a pink dress dragging along a disgruntled looking man with a bowtie. “Ooh, you must be the new neighbor!” she squeals, bouncing up and down in place, hands flapping in front of her chest. “We were so worried you weren’t gonna come! I’m Julie Joyful, and this,” she says as she grabs the arm of the man next to her, “is Frank Frankly! Say hi, Franky!”

“Uh… hello.” I pondered briefly if I looked as awkward as poor Frank did as he gave me a small wave. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” I respond. As Julie begins to babble about her excitement, my eyes move to drift over the rest of the strangers. The vast majority are split off into their own small groups, with a single exception. Sitting on a bench under a large apple tree is a man who seems to be studying me the same way I’m studying him. One of his legs is crossed over the other, supporting his elbow as he rests his chin on his hand, staring at me with an intensity that sends a small shiver down my spine. And either I’m going crazy, or his lazy smile broadens ever so slightly at that.

I’m startled out of my impromptu staring contest by Julie, who seems to have noticed that I wasn’t listening and cranes her neck to see what I’m looking at. “Oh, have you met Wally yet?”

I shake my head. “No, not yet.” It takes all the willpower in my body not to meet those eyes that I can almost feel lingering on me.

The girl grins, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you gotta meet him! I bet you two will get along like two peas in a pod!”

She begins to force me from my spot, and I feel myself start to panic. Before she can pull me away to the creepy man, Frank reaches out and stops her in her tracks. “Say, Julie, they don’t look too keen on it. Maybe they should take it slow, meet the others on their own time?” He gestures broadly to the snacks left sitting around. “They haven’t even gotten anything to eat yet, after all.”

Julie looks surprised at the intervention, a flash of guilt going over her face. “Oh my, you’re right, Frank! I’m so sorry, neighbor, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” At my dismissive hand wave, she changes course, instead pulling me to the piles of food. “Poppy told me she gave you some cookies, but just you wait ‘til you try her pie!” I turn to look at Frank, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at the grumpy looking man. He smiles a bit with a reassuring nod, and the three of us settle down on a blanket. For the rest of the picnic I eat while the two of them (mainly just Julie with the occasional comment from Frank) talk about all kinds of things.

I try hard to pretend I can’t feel the eyes burning into the back of my head.

—————————

The sound of a steady, rhythmic knock wakes me up the next morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes, noting with absent mind how high the sun had already risen. The three slow knocks reverberate through my house once again, and I roll out of bed and head towards the front door, not bothering to change out of my pajamas or even look through the peephole. This, as it turns out, is a bad move on my part.

I yawn as I open the door, only for it to become a strangled cough as I lock eyes with the one resident I didn’t want to see this early. The man, or Wally as Julie had called him, stood on my porch, his face as eerily relaxed as ever. His posture was straight, his clothes neat, his appearance put together; I don’t think he could be any more of a contrast to my current state if he actively worked towards it. Which, to be frank, I suspect he did.

Just like the last time I’d encountered him, the two of us looked as if we were having a staring contest. Unlike last time, however, this time he decides to break the silence. “Hi, neighbor.” His voice is soft and monotonous, each syllable dragging along in no hurry. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

Somehow, I doubt that. In an attempt to relieve the strange tension, I let out a stilted laugh. “Yeah, you did, but it’s fine. I overslept, anyway.” He hums in acknowledgement, and it takes a few long seconds for me to realize he doesn’t plan on responding. Eager to hurry along this interaction so I can dart back into my house and hide from those piercing eyes, I prompt, “Something I can help you with, Wally?”

He tilts his head. “I never told you my name.”

“Yeah, no, you uh, you didn’t. Julie told me yesterday. At the… the picnic.”

“Oh, right. You three looked like you had a good time.”

“We did! We did…”

“Hmm.” His smile stretches, looking pleased by that confirmation. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re settling in okay. I’ve heard it can be awful hard to make new friends, but you have a way of drawing people in, huh?” Cutting me off before I can ask for elaboration, Wally continues. “Speaking of drawing, I was hoping you might join me for some painting today, down by the south woods.”

“Oh!” I blurt out, taking a moment to process the invitation. “I’m not exactly much of an artist, myself.”

He laughs, and it’s every bit as emphatic as the rest of his speech. “Oh, neighbor, that doesn’t matter. We all start somewhere, and besides, I’d like the company.”

I consider turning him down flat, but something tells me he’s a bit too persuasive for me to keep him at bay forever. With a grin so forced it hurts, I say, “Sounds like fun! I’ll be there.”

Wally’s head bobs in a slow nod, and he takes a step back from the door. “I’m glad to hear it. See you soon, neighbor.”

I return the nod and raise a hand in a brief wave. “See you soon.” His stare remains, and just as I ready myself to ask him to stop, he finally, finally, turns away and walks away, humming a quiet tune to himself.

I step inside and close the door, leaning my forehead against it as I recover from the encounter. My stomach growls, but I feel as though I’ve lost my appetite. The inexplicable dread in my heart squashes any hope of breakfast. I close my eyes, but even then I can still see his own staring back, unblinking in their ceaseless observation. With a shudder, I push myself up, trying my best to steel my nerves. It’s just a little art lesson, I chastise myself. So he’s a little spooky, it’s probably fine.

No matter how many times I repeated those three words to myself, the memory of those eyes seems to peer right through the lie.

#yandere wally darling #wally darling x reader #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere x reader #yandere welcome home #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere #x reader #horror #ain’t he darling

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joekeeryswife · 2 months

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Love island Episode one: Coupling up.

a/n: it’s here! thank you to everyone who voted over this past week. here is the love island series. Mason has his pretty prince hair😍. villa is the 2019 UK love island villa, it will get better but i wanted to get the coupling up over with. anyways sorry if there is any mistakes, enjoy reading 🩰

you’d never been this nervous before. sure you’d been nervous but never this bad. you had been scouted for love island by the producers and you thought you’d give it a go. you had a pretty big following being a model/influencer with just over 500k followers and this would be the perfect opportunity for you to finally find love instead of focusing on your job.

you walked into the villa in you hot pink bikini, you picked it because it would stand out and that’s what you wanted to do. you wanted to make a good first impression on whoever was in here. you made your way to the garden and saw four other girls meaning you were the last to enter before you saw Maya Jama.

“hey everyone” you said making the four girls turn towards you and scream with excitement. they met you halfway and one by one introduced themselves to you. “i’m Molly nice to meet you” she kissed you on the cheek and hugged you closely. the next girl hugged you “hi im Chloe” she hugged you.

“i’m Anna” she hugged you and kissed your cheek and then you finally moved onto the last girl “im Amber nice to meet you” you didn’t know what it was but the girls even though you hadn’t been in there long had all made you feel welcome already.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you all” you were still nervous as Molly poured you a drink. “so, tell us about you y/n. what’s your type?” you took a sip of the champagne before starting. “well, i’m 22, in a model and influencer. my type is tall, tattoos, brown hair brown eyes, tanned skin, someone who’s athletic and don’t think i’m weird but i love noses” the girls laughed.

“don’t worry y/n, i’m with you on that one” Chloe laughed. “tell me about you girls then, we are gonna be living together for a while” you tucked your hair behind your ear as you listened to them.

Chloe started “well, i’m 25, i’m a marketing executive. my type is anyone who is taller than me to be honest. i don’t really have a type i usually go for. i like anyone, and i do have a thing for noses” you laughed again knowing that this was gonna be a recurring thing that you would all speak about.

“as you know i’m Molly, i’m 23 and i’m an influencer. my usual type is a tall brunette but i’m open to get to know everyone here” you nodded and then Anna started talking. “so i’m a pharmacist and my usual type is anyone taller than me, because i’m so tall i want someone taller than me”

to be honest Anna was very tall so it wasn’t a shock that she’d want someone taller than her. lastly Amber started talking “i’m a beautician so i do facials, lashes, lip filler, everything like that and my usual type is tall dark and handsome, i don’t know how else to explain it” you all laughed and then you all heard a voice behind you.

“hello girls” you turned towards the voice and saw Maya standing there. a few of the girls screamed, seeing her made this experience feel so much more real. “how about we all gather around the fire pit and have a chat?” all of you made your way over to the fire pit and sat down.

“so, Amber, tell me, how are you feeling about being here? are you nervous? excited?” Amber nodded “yeah i’m excited because you never know who’s gonna come through that door like it could be the love of my life” her gordie accent thick as she spoke.

you all laughed and nodded, you really never knew who was about to come through the door. “Chloe, do you think you could meet someone here? or are you skeptical about it all” Chloe shrugged “i’m pretty skeptical but i’m optimistic about the whole thing. i’m excited to meet everyone else”

“okay well, are we ready to meet some boys?” you all cheered and made your way over to the five love hearts that were by the pool. you were on the fourth heart in between Anna and Chloe. “right, remember girls that you can step forward for the guy you like but he can pick any one of you even if you don’t step forward” Maya spoke so you understood the rules.

“let’s welcome our first boy Ovie” you all looked toward the door and saw him, he was very good looking. you all clapped as he made his way down the steps. “you girls doing alright?” you all said yes as he stood next to Maya. “so girls, step forward if you like the look of Ovie” you looked at the girls and saw Anna, Chloe and Amber step forward.

“wow three girls stepping forward already. Amber, why did you step forward?” Maya questioned “he’s just really good looking, definitely my type” Ovie was shocked that three girls stepped forward for him. he was hoping for at least one let alone three.

“y/n, why didn’t you step forward?” you blushed “now don’t get me wrong you’re very good looking but i just want to see the other options before i step forward for someone” Ovie and Maya nodded understanding where you were coming from.

“okay Ovie you have three beautiful girls who have stepped forward for you but who have you decided you are going to pick?” he was silent for a few minutes before he finally spoke up “the girl i would like to couple up with is Anna” Anna clapped with excitement that Ovie picked her. to be honest when they stood next to each other they looked perfect together.

“okay, next boy we have coming in is Toby” you all clapped again as he made his way down the steps and you heard Chloe whisper ‘oh my god’. she liked him for definite. “okay girls, if you like the look of Toby please step forward” straight away Chloe stepped forward. Chloe was the only one who stepped forward for Toby.

“okay ones not bad” he said making you frown but you quickly changed your face back to normal. “Toby you have Chloe who has stepped forward for you, would you like to couple up with Chloe or would you like to couple up with someone else?” Maya said fidgeting on her feet.

“Chloe is beautiful so i’m going to couple up with Chloe” you all clapped as Toby made his way over to Chloe and he kissed her on her cheek. Chloe blushed and smiled happily that Toby picked her.

“Molly why haven’t you stepped forward for any of the boys?” Maya asked looking at her intensely. “they just aren’t my type really, i bet they’re lovely but i’m just waiting for that spark straight away” Maya nodded “okay well i think you may like this next boy then, please welcome Tommy”

Molly gasped as he made his way down the steps, she was in shock at how good looking he was. “okay girls, if you like the look of Tommy please step forward” Amber and Molly stepped forward. “wow two girls, didn’t expect that” Tommy said smiling widely. “well, Molly and Amber have stepped forward for you Tommy, who would you like to couple up with? remember you can pick someone who has stepped forward for you, in a couple or even a girl who hasn’t stepped forward.

Tommys eyes scanned through the girls before making his decision. “i would like to couple up with Molly” she jumped a little as Tommy picked her. “thank you for picking me” Molly said as she gave Tommy a hug and he kissed her on the cheek. “you’re welcome beautiful” she blushed brightly.

“okay girls, last two boys. y/n, do you think you will step forward? you haven’t stepped forward for anyone” you nodded “i know, i feel bad but no one has really caught my eye yet” Maya understood “hopefully someone will catch you eye” you agreed.

“okay girls welcome Curtis” you didn’t even like the sound of that name right off the bat and seeing him just solidified that for you. he was not your type at all. “okay girls, if you like the look of Curtis please step forward” you were not stepping forward. you didn’t want to just step forward because you had too, you were here for yourself.

it was silent for a few minutes and sadly no one stepped forward for Curtis. his smile faltered slightly before he quickly put it back on his face. “oh Curtis i’m sorry” Maya said and he just shrugged it off “it’s no bother, they just haven’t gotten to know me yet.” he replied.

“okay well don’t worry, you can couple up with any of these girls. who would you like to couple up with?” Maya continued “i would like to couple up with y/n” your heart dropped but you didn’t show your sadness, you just had to get on with it.

Curtis made his way over to you and gave you an awkward hug. “y/n, how are you feeling?” god you hated that she had to ask you that “oh uhh, i’m glad i got picked but i just didn’t see that initial attraction but i guess i don’t know Curtis?” you sounded like you were questioning yourself.

“okay well, let’s see our next boy. please welcome Mason” you turned your head toward the door and your heart started beating. there he was and you were in shock at how pretty he was. “hey everyone” he said, even his voice was sexy. “girls, if you like the look of Mason please step forward” straight away you stepped forward as did Chloe and Amber followed.

“wow y/n, i’m shocked. you actually stepped forward for someone” you blushed and laughed. “well, it glad she did step forward for me” Mason winked at you and you felt weak. he was making you feel things you’d never felt before.

“Mason you have the choice to couple up with any of these girls, who would you like to couple up with?” Mason answered straight away “y/n” you were ecstatic. “that means Curtis automatically couples up with Amber” Curtis walked over to Amber and Mason made his way over to you and kissed you on the cheek and pulled you into a nice hug. “nice to meet you” he said as you stepped back to the heart.

“nice to meet you too. thank you for choosing me” your body felt hot, he was the perfect man by looks, and he had a nice nose. “well, you’re a beautiful girl. i’m excited to get to know you” you locked eyes with him, his eyes were dark brown but in the sunlight you could see golden hues which were so pretty.

“okay guys, everyone is now coupled up. i’ll leave you too it and remember, if you don’t get to know anyone your place in the villa may be at risk. good luck” with that Maya left and it felt even more real. “should we go over to the swing? i want to know more about you” you nodded your head and smiled. Mason grabbed ahold of your hand and the two of you headed over to the swing.

*to be continued*

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corrodedhawkins · 1 year

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Desperate

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) language, piss kink (holding and slight wetting), sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, safe words (stoplight system), crying, teasing, begging, oral (m!receiving), praise, female masturbation, cum play (facial and swallowing)

“Here you go baby, drink up”, you smile sweetly, bending over the arm of the couch to peck Eddie on the cheek as he takes the bottle of water from your outstretched hand.

“Thanks”, he mumbles, unscrewing the cap before taking a few sips, wincing when he feels his bladder throb.

You flop down on the couch next to him, biting back a laugh when the movement jostles him, a quiet groan escaping.

“What do you wanna do? Watch a movie, maybe read?”, you ask, picking up the remote.

“Would love to piss”, Eddie grumbles, shifting in his seat.

Barking out a laugh, you press play on one of your guilty pleasure reality shows, knowing he won’t be paying attention anyway. “Hey, you asked for this.”

And he had, sitting you down to discuss exploring this kink with you, nervous but excited. He had explained it wasn’t necessarily the piss that turned him on, but rather the control you’d have over him.

You’d heard every detail of him jacking off over the past few months, thinking about how desperate he would be, completely at your mercy as he squirmed and begged.

It wasn’t anything you’d ever given much thought to until Eddie brought it up, and now you couldn’t stop thinking about it. There were more than a few times this week where Eddie had excused himself to use the bathroom that you found yourself throbbing between your legs, thinking about what you had planned.

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, nails digging into his jean-covered thigh. Two episodes in and he has no idea what’s happening, only able to focus on the insistent ache of his bladder.

It’s so full, pressing up against the waistband of his jeans painfully. He squirms, trying to find a position that gives him a little relief with no luck. Your hand settles on his thigh, the silent stop fidgeting understood and he stills.

“Can I go now?”, he tries.

“Nope”, you answer, eyes never leaving the tv.

He’s almost able to forget about his predicament and relax until you tap him on the shoulder with the half-empty water bottle during the next episode.

“Finish it”, you order.

Sighing, he downs the rest of the water, a pitiful whine escaping him as he crushes the empty plastic in his fist.

“You doin’ okay? What’s your color, baby?” As much as you’re enjoying torturing him, you need to make sure he’s still alright with this.

“I’m-yeah. I’m green”, he replies, sucking in a sharp breath. “Just hurts.” He motions to the waistband of his jeans, obviously cutting into him uncomfortably.

“You poor thing”, you croon. Eddie chuckles softly, amused by your overdone sympathy. “Why don’t you go change into some sweats, relieve some of the pressure?”

“Don’t know if I can”, he groans, his fingernails digging into the arm of the couch. “I feel like if I get up I’ll piss myself.”

“Do you want my help?”, you offer.

He nods, biting his lip as he scoots forward to the edge of the couch. He rises to his feet slowly, a desperate whine leaving him as his eyes widen in panic. The movement causes him to lose control of his tightly clamped muscles for a split second, allowing a spurt of piss to escape and soak the front of his jeans.

Eddie whimpers, hand shooting down to take hold of his dick, squeezing himself through the wet denim. His eyes are wide and glassy, unshed tears brimming at his lash line.

“Aw”, you coo. “What’s wrong baby? Having trouble holding it?”

Chest heaving, Eddie struggles to form words, overwhelmed by the humiliation and the way his cock is hardening in his jeans as a result.

“Hey”, you move to stand in front of him, hand cupping his cheek. “Color?”

“Fuck”, Eddie wheezes. “Yellow. I just, I really don’t want to piss myself in our living room, and I’m about to.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me. C’mon.” Grabbing his hand, you gently but quickly lead him down the hall into the bathroom, helping him step into the tub.

“Thank you”, Eddie exhales once he’s standing safely near the drain. “I’m green.”

Smiling, you reach up to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, hand eventually settling on his cheek. “You’re being so good for me, baby. Checking in without me even having to ask. Such a good boy.”

Eddie hums, nuzzling into your hand resting against his cheek. He shifts from foot to foot, obviously still desperate. “Can I go now?”

“No, baby. Not yet.” Making quick work of his button and zipper, you get his jeans and boxers down, helping him step out of them. As soon as they’re off, you lean in to lick over the head of his cock.

“Oh fuck, don’t”, Eddie gasps. “I can’t-”

Humming disapprovingly, you wrap your hand around his length, stroking for a moment until he’s fully hard. “Will you try for me, sweet boy?” You nose at the soft skin of his balls, sucking one into your mouth as his hips jolt forward.

“Ah, ‘kay. Okay. I’ll try”, he pants, head tipping back to rest against the cool tile.

Your tongue laps at the head once again, swirling around before the tip dips into his slit.

“Oh come on”, Eddie moans. “Now that’s just mean.”

Biting back a smirk, you tap the head of his cock against your tongue, the tip dipping into his slit once again. “I thought you liked it when I’m a little mean?”

“S’not the point”, he groans.

You stifle a laugh into the meat of his thigh, your breath grazing over his sensitive skin. He laughs, his control slipping for a moment.

“Fuck”, he cries as a strong jet of piss escapes. He’s visibly shaking, trying his best to hold it, clenching his length in his hand to stop the stream. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You run your hands soothingly up and down the sides of his thighs. “You’ve been so good for me, honey. You can go now.”

It takes a second for Eddie to process what you’ve just said. He aims his hard cock down towards the drain, a strangled cry leaving his lips as he finally lets go.

Watching him like this, desperate and so eager to be good for you was one thing. But now? Watching the look on his face as he finally unclenches his muscles, hearing the sounds of relief he’s making as piss pours out of him? You feel like you’re right on the edge and you haven’t even touched yourself.

Brow furrowed, his mouth hangs open, breathy moans punched out of him as his stream continues. “Oh my god”, he gasps. “Feels like m’already cumming.”

You can’t help yourself, slipping your hand into your shorts to rub frantic circles around our clit. You’re so wet that your fingertips keep slipping from where you need them, but it doesn’t matter.

Finally, Eddie’s stream tapers off, his hand curling around his erection. “I need to cum, please baby. M’so close.”

Nodding, you shuffle forward so that you’re as close as possible. “Go on. Cum for me. Right on my tongue.”

Your mouth opens wide, tongue out and waiting. It only takes him a few strokes and he’s cumming, hot and thick over your tongue, cheek and chin.

As soon as you feel his release hit your tongue you’re cumming with him, groaning as you clench and spasm.

Eddie slumps back against the tile, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He reaches for you, his hand stroking your hair as a fond smile graces his lips. “Jesus Christ”, he laughs breathlessly. “Did you-?”

“Enjoy it?”, you ask once you finish swallowing, leaning into his touch. “Not sure. We’ll have to try it again, just so I can decide.”

Tagging:

@latenightsimping @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpsess @strangermarvelss @mcplestreet @hellfirebabes @saramelaniemoon @sillypurplemurple @kody07 @hellfirecllub @digital-charlie @munsonsbelova @applepiewithbacon @thefreakofhawkins86

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #sub!eddie munson #tw: piss kink #melissa writes #tw: piss

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jupitercomet · 7 months

Text

The Grow Apart

summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, mentions of drinking, mentions of suggestive themes, my limited knowledge of boxing, no use of y/n, Jake is 6'5" because I said so, I recommend that you read the orange butterfly before this chapter

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.4k

one new voicemail masterlist

You’d never been the most tech savvy person, you know that.

You understand the basic functions of your laptop and definitely aren’t hopeless. No one would ever call you technology deficient. But your knowledge ends with the essentials.

So when you overheard one of your coworker’s talking about the way she learned to delete her voicemails, you didn’t exactly question it.

“You just have to press *67 as soon as you’re finished and it’ll delete it. It’ll make it look like you never called.”

It didn’t seem like vital information at the time, but nights later, as you were sitting on your couch slightly drunk, watching The Fox and the Hound, it suddenly became much more useful. Unable to stop yourself, you called Jake that night, leaving a brief and somewhat tearful voicemail before typing out *67 and hanging up.

Admittedly, you were a little weary of your coworker’s tip—maybe you’d watched too many TV episode plots that revolved around tracking down someone to delete a voicemail off their phone. But you woke up the next morning with no questioning text from Jake. When a week had gone by and he still hadn’t reached out, you testingly left another voicemail.

You don’t entirely know when they became such an integral part of your daily routine, almost a voice diary you found yourself using on every walk home after work. But it became a comfort, a way for you to talk through your grievances with someone you used to think cared about them. It got so lonely in San Diego, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

You could talk about whatever you needed to and then delete it, without ever having to worry about Jake answering his phone either. Back when you were still dating, you learned that Jake had two phones—only keeping his older one in case people too far back in his past to have his new number ever tried to reach him. In the entire year you’d been together, no one but a telemarketer had called it and it stayed untouched in a drawer.

So you could cling to the first man you’d ever loved, like you wanted, and Jake could forget you ever existed, like he wanted. It was a win win.

“Hi, Jake. It’s me again— I feel like I don’t have to keep introducing myself, sorry. Today was pretty good. I got a lot of tips, so I think I’m finally gonna get new shoes. Even customers started noticing, it was really embarrassing.

I see my therapist tomorrow. She wants to talk about you, which I’m kinda nervous for, but it’ll probably be good for me. She’s been really helpful actually and she’s really nice when we work though stuff… I don’t know, I like to think you’d be proud of me for that.

I’m pretty sure it’s, like, 8:30 in Texas, so you’re probably at the gym right now. Unless you’re not— Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. But, um, what else?

Oh! I saw a dog that looked like Harley today. It was walking past the window at the diner with a cute bandana and I got a little excited... I miss him. I miss—

Anyway, I’m rambling so I’ll probably hang up now, but, um, I hope you had a good day. Bye, Jake.”

Jake’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles white as your voice cuts off in his headphones. He has to force himself to loosen his grip on his phone out of fear of breaking it, the old iPhone 6 was hardly durable as it is. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

He can still hear you in his head, your quiet voice, your soft breaths. He hates it. When he goes home, he’ll screen record your message so he can keep his voicemail box empty for you.

In truth, Jake had discovered your voicemails entirely by accident. Moving back to Texas eradicated his need for his second phone since he was now close enough that any friend or family who didn’t have his new number could probably just walk to his condo if they needed something. He’d completely forgotten about the phone for months until Javy’s sister said she was looking for an older phone to give to her son as he started 8th grade.

It took him hours to find, but when he did, the last thing he was expecting was notifications for no less than 10 missed calls and voicemails. Jake was even more surprised when he realized they were all from you. He listened to every one of them, as you talked through the highlights of your day. And the lowlights. For a moment, Jake could almost pretend you were still together.

But you weren’t talking to him—you were talking to the idea of him. Because that’s all you had. That’s all he left you.

Jake must have stayed up all night playing your voicemails over and over again.

The logical part of him, the part he usually listened to, told him to forget about it. He should just put the phone back where he found it, and let you reach the voicemail limit, and never think about it again. The logical part of him told him that clearly even you didn’t want him to listen to them and why would he want to listen to him anyway? Jake Seresin doesn’t get hung up on his ex.

And Jake suddenly carrying his old phone everywhere with him and recording every voicemail so he could still listen to them while keeping his mailbox empty was Jake not being hung up on you.

He’s allowed to still think about you, to still care about you. And that didn’t mean he regretted breaking up with you. Just because he always felt lonely, and started letting Harley sleep on the bed with him which he had never allowed before, and found himself wanting to pick up your call if only just to hear your voice in real time, didn’t mean he regretted it. It didn’t mean he thought it was the stupidest decision he ever made. And it wasn’t the reason he was so ready to move back to California.

“Dude.” Javy’s voice breaks him from his reverie, and Jake turns to see his best friend giving him an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the gym tonight.”

Jake tries to shake you from his head, sliding his old iPhone 6 discreetly into his gym bag. “Sorry. I was changing my music.”

He knows Javy doesn’t believe him, the other man just crossing his arms without a word. He has that look on his face, the one Jake sees quite frequently now, the look of wanting to step in but being hesitant to push him. Jake hates that look more than your voicemails.

“Dude… If you wanna talk about something—”

Jake rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t do that,” Javy points an accusing finger at him. “You’re doing that thing you do where you get mad at people for caring about you.”

“To get mad at you would require caring in the first place,” Jake walks away from his bag with a snippy tone.

Because Jake doesn’t care.

“I don’t know, I’d like to think you’d be proud of me for that.”

Jake doesn’t care that he is proud of you. He doesn’t care that it feels like a knife through the heart every time he realizes that he is now something you have to work through, that the pain he caused you is something you have to learn to let go of.

“I miss him. I miss—”

Jake doesn’t care that you miss him. It doesn’t rip him apart that maybe you don’t. It’s not like he has dreams where he’s with you, where he’s telling you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. He doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat, shaky fingers swiping through his phone before he plays one of your voicemails because your voice is the only thing that calms him down. He doesn’t do any of that because doing that would require him caring.

And Jake doesn’t care.

“Hey, Harley.” You give the dog a scratch behind his ears as he greets you excitedly, stubby tail thumping against your legs.

Harley prances after you as you walk further into the house, hanging up your jacket and dropping your purse on a chair like shedding those items will be enough to shake off the day. It’s not, you still feel drained, and you hope that Jake’s up for something from Charlotte’s tonight.

“Angel? That you?”

Jake’s voice drifts from the living room and you start heading in that direction. You’re mildly surprised he’s home at all, he spends most of his time at Maverick’s and you usually don’t see him until much later in the night. But it’s only 6:30 and he’s looking through his laptop as he sits on the couch.

“Sorry,” you move to sit next to him on the couch, the cushion in the middle feels like feet between you but you’re not quite courageous enough to move any closer. “I didn’t know you were home. I thought you’d be back later.”

Jake nods offhandedly, continuing to scroll through whatever is on his laptop. You hardly take offense to it, though no one would guess Jake is weirdly responsible and it’s a very real possibility he’s filing away things for your taxes or something. Instead, you pull out your phone, reveling in the quiet for a moment.

Though working at Knockouts paid the bills, it was by no means your dream job. It was loud and customers could be cruel and almost all your coworkers were looking for other work—or, at the very least, didn’t plan to stay there forever. Jake promised you that once his boxing career took off, you wouldn’t have to work there anymore. You could go back to school, and get your masters in English like you always wanted to.

That hasn’t happened yet though. And you can tell it frustrates Jake every time you come to his house exhausted or on the verge of tears that he’s still waiting for some big break to be able to provide for you. But you always try to assure him that it isn’t his job, that eventually he’ll find his footing and everything will be okay. You’ve gotten better at hiding the bad days from him.

In fairness, it seems like he has too. These past couple days he’s been scarce—more than usual—this is the first time in a long time that he’s been home before you’ve fallen asleep. You know he’s taking things more seriously at the gym, training more, winning more. He’s also going out partying with Javy a lot more too, it only stings a little that he doesn’t invite you.

It’s not like he hasn’t always been doing this, but something about this time around feels different. Like, this time, he knows something that you don’t.

“I think we should break up.”

Your phone falls from your hand and into your lap. “What?”

“I think we should break up,” Jake repeats, reaffirming that his words weren’t something you’d misheard. That they weren’t some nightmare you’re having while awake.

“I… I don’t— Why?” You swallow thickly, your chest feeling heavy as you try to understand what feels like a blindside on Jake’s part.

Jake sighs, looking up from his laptop. “Mav told me there’s a guy back in Texas that’s looking for fighters. The fighting scene isn’t as competitive there. This would be my shot.”

“You think we should break up because you want to move back to Texas?”

You don’t understand how Jake can be so nonchalant about this. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t want to go with him? But you would. You would go with him. You weren’t loyal to San Diego. Hell, you weren’t even loyal to California. It would take you a bit of time of course, you’d have to put in your two week notice and figure out how to sell your apartment—

“It’s huge for me, you know?” Though he sounds excited, he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. “And we really aren’t serious enough for long distance to make sense—”

Oh.

There was a part of you that was always a little wary of Jake. Of the guy you met at a bar, who called you “angel” before he called you your name. And maybe this was why. Because guys like that didn’t do serious relationships. But Jake had been loyal and yours for so long that you thought that, maybe, it was okay. Maybe it was okay to trust him. All squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.

You clear your throat, biting down on your lip harshly. “Right, um, that makes sense…”

There’s a flash of something in Jake’s eyes—maybe hurt—but it’s gone before you can know for sure. “I’ve been thinking about this for a bit and I just think it makes the most sense.” He laughs suddenly, but you can’t seem to find the joy in it like you used to. “It’s not like you were planning to spend the rest of your life with some underground boxer.”

You were, but it feels childish to admit now. Like Jake was just some fantasy and you’ve reached the end to find no happily ever after. You swallow thickly.

“I mean, this is a really big opportunity for you.” You’re grateful Harley is playing in the backyard, because he’d have certainly called you out on your clear distress if he were here. “So, you should do what you think is best.”

It’s silent for a moment as Jake stares at you, and you wish he would just say something. Because you don’t know what he’s thinking and you don’t know what he wants you to say. You’ll say it, whatever it is. You don’t know what he wants from you.

Jake wets his lips. “And we— I mean… We can still be friends.”

You knew what that meant. He’d never talk to you again. You’d no longer be there for him when he just didn’t want to be alone. You’d no longer be the first person he thought of when he caught a trailer for a new movie that looked good. You wouldn’t speak to him for years and years and then suddenly, out of the blue, you’d get a pity invite to his wedding to some Russian super model and all he’d introduce you as is someone he knew from college. Because that’s the kind of “friends” exes became.

“Right,” you force a smile. This time, not even Jake could make you believe him. “I’m— I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t until months later, when you were wine drunk watching The Fox and the Hound, that you finally admitted it out loud. “Hey, Jake. I, um, I lied. When I said I was okay with you leaving, I lied. I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay…”

The soft scent of floral notes fill your lungs as light mist lands on your skin. You take a deep breath, looking up at the fluttering butterflies moving in the air above you. It calms you, how silent butterflies are, like they’re the only creatures that don’t intrude on your space. Silent, and soft, and beautiful.

Dr. Elsher’s words ring in your head as you walk your feet through the familiar turns of the butterfly pavilion. The two of you had been talking about Jake for the last couple sessions, working through what he meant to you and what he made you feel about yourself. It was painful, you won’t pretend that it wasn’t, but it helped. You’d even stopped leaving Jake voicemails every day.

It wasn’t a lot, you know that. But it was something. It wasn’t that you stopped loving Jake, or missing him, or wanting him, you just didn’t need him. You could live without him. Because you had other things—or, at least, you’re working on that. For now, you have butterflies.

For a moment, you think about leaving Jake a voicemail, but you shake it off. Not today. Today is about you and your happiness and the fact that you can live without Jake.

“And that’s important,” Dr. Elsher gives you a knowing look. “That you look at it as living. Up until now, you’ve been surviving. I want you to know that you can live whether or not you have Jake, or your parents, or anyone else.”

A blue butterfly flies in front of you and your shoes stop on the concrete to watch it for a moment. It lands on a peony growing near you, its wings spread to show off their iridescent shimmer. Your fingers brush against the edge of your phone case in your back pocket, but you stop yourself. Though you can’t explain it, you decide not to take a picture of the butterfly. Instead you just watch it until it flies away.

The bench you always sit at is just behind the flower bush in front of you and your shoes start moving against the concrete again. Dr. Elsher had recommended you try journaling for a bit and you figured this would be the nicest place to do it—sitting at your bench, in the quiet, surrounded by butterflies.

Your breath feels like it was ripped from your lungs when you finally move past the flower bush.

“Jake?”

The blond’s head turns at the sound of your voice, confirming his identity. He looks equally as shocked and he hops up from the bench quickly. “Hey…” He swallows.

You stare at him. He’s bigger now, muscles more toned and firm. He looks taller, if that were even possible, and you have to crane your neck a bit just to look at him. He’s still Jake though. He’s just a bigger Jake with slightly longer hair and… softer eyes. He’s Jake all the same.

“You’re, um, you’re back,” your voice is small and you wet your lips out of habit. “I thought you were in Texas.”

Jake scratches the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. So unlike the Jake you know, he seems nervous and for a fleeting second panic fills you. Has he been getting your voicemails? “Yeah, I just moved back. It’s— It’s nice to see you though. It’s been a while, huh?”

A year and a half. That’s how long it’s been. One year, six months, and eleven days.

“Yeah.”

When you say nothing more, Jake clears his throat. “Well, I should go. I mean, I know this is your spot and— I was just—” He stops himself, his expression morphing into one that almost looks like he’s disappointed in himself. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

With a strained smile, Jake brushes past you, heading towards the exit as he runs a hand through his hair. He seems anxious, fidgeting with himself as he leaves. You can’t stop staring at him.

Jake doesn’t spare you another glance before he’s gone.

Jake feels like he’s going to get a headache from how loud the music is, the flashing lights making his eyes squint. California feels different compared to Texas, but not by much. Alcohol is still alcohol after all.

Not that Jake’s having that good of a time due to that fact. The amount of bodies packed into this club has him more irritated than anything and even the alarming amount of shots he’s been taking doesn’t seem to help. He’s just annoyed. Javy’s been pushing him in the gym, critiquing every mistake and making him practice punch combinations again, and again, and again. And there’s no reason for it either because, while Jake thought he was just competing with Rooster for good fights, he came to learn that some other up-and-comer has carved out his place in Mav’s lineup and now Jake has to sit back and watch the Grim Reaper take fights that should’ve been his.

It feels like the beginning of his career all over again, except this time he knows he deserves better fights. He’s stronger now, he knows how to put on a show, and if he just stayed in Texas he could be fighting whoever he wanted. If he just stayed in Texas a lot of things would be simpler.

Throwing back one final shot, Jake gets up. At this point, he might as well stop moping around and do something that’s actually going to make him feel better. There’s a buzz in his head that has the ability to take his mind off things if he focuses on it and what looks to be a bachelorette party has just made its way to the dance floor. Despite how in his own head he’s been, he isn’t stupid enough to remain oblivious to the redhead that’s been eyeing him since she got here.

With confident strides, he makes his way over to where she’s dancing with a few friends, gaze locked on the carefree swaying of her hips. She moves to make another glance at him, but she seems to have not realized that he’s already spotted her as her eyes widen slightly when she sees he’s coming closer. Whispering something quickly to her friends, she pulls herself away from the group.

Jake watches the way her chest rises and falls, taking in oxygen deeply with how much she’s been dancing. Sweat pools at the dips in her collarbones—something Jake can see because of her low cut top—making her skin look like it’s shimmering under the neon lights. She looks up at him through long, innocent lashes, biting her lip shyly.

Like it always is, the way he speaks to her is a blur. He says something to make her giggle and she steps closer to him under the guise of wanting to hear him better. She tells him her name and he forgets it and he pretends to be interested in what she’s doing in the city. One thing leads to another and then she’s grabbing his hand, leading him away with that same giggle, and then he’s pressing her against the wall in some dark hall before he inevitably takes her home like he always does.

Jake ignores the somewhat queasy feeling in his stomach, chalking it up to one too many shots, and lets his hands fall to her hips. Her head tilts up just slightly, an invitation to kiss her, and Jake can see the pink lip gloss that’s reflecting off her parted lips.

The lights from the club travel over them occasionally, illuminating the scene enough for Jake to catch details about this woman, like the freckles peppering her shoulders and the glitter she’s smeared on her eyelids. But Jake never usually takes the time to notice these things, not when they truly and utterly don’t matter, he hardly ever gets with these women just to look at them.

When he finally dips down to kiss her, the lights pass over them again, right before her eyes can fully flutter closed. Jake jerks his head back.

“What?”

Jake knows the woman is looking at him in confusion, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead he shoves his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the clear effects of alcohol he’s experiencing like he’s trying to wake up from a dream. Because this woman doesn’t have your eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath, letting his hands fall. The lights pass over them again. The woman looks heavy with concern. But she has your eyes and your perfect nose and Jake feels like he’s going crazy because she’s not you.

She’s not you.

And he was going to kiss her.

Jake feels sick. He takes a step back from the woman, eyes darting all over the club as he tries to collect his thoughts. He knows that running into you had thrown him, he hadn’t been expecting to see you, not so soon and not when he still didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been expecting to be so grateful though, like seeing you suddenly made everything feel right again, like he didn’t know how much he needed it until it finally happened.

He saw you at the butterfly pavilion and had to stop his heart from skipping beats because he had never truly realized just how right he’d been when you were together. You are an angel.

And Jake always thought poetry was stupid, but now he wishes he paid more attention when excitedly you spoke to him about your literature classes in college because no words seem sufficient to describe what it felt like to lay eyes on you again. Beautiful didn’t even hold a candle—ethereal maybe? He felt like a lovesick idiot.

And here he is trying to kiss another girl that isn’t you.

“Are you okay?” A delicate hand weighs down on his shoulder but it feels like it’s 1000 pounds.

Jake flinches away from the woman’s grip, only able to shake his head. The alcohol is catching up to him now, as is the realization that this entire time he’s been doing everything he can to forget you and he’s finally reached his limit. He can’t forget you because he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to find women that only like the idea of him and who he only likes the idea of too. He only ever wanted them because he can’t have you.

“I have to go.” Jake says finally. He doesn’t want this. “I have to— I should go.”

He’s walking away before the woman can even say anything, shouldering his way past people to get out of the stuffy club. His ears are ringing and it feels like all he can see are flashes of you. Jake knows that he should go home, sleep off the alcohol and the memory of you so guarded at the butterfly pavilion. At the very least, he should call Javy so that he isn’t alone

Instead he stumbles his way to Mav’s with the plan to hit a punching bag until he physically can’t anymore.

join my Jake Seresin taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

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#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #hangman imagine #hangman imagines #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman angst #hangman au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #one new voicemail #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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wildemaven · 10 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (Nicknamed Poppy)

WC: 6600

Warning: 18+ Blog/Minors will be blocked; Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

A/N: We’ll, there’s a lot here. This week was draining with a teething/no sleeping babe— but I was determined to get this finished! I don’t have a lot to say, but I’m excited for this part of their story! Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey again for her support and proofreading every week! And thank you to everyone who has continued to stick with these two dumb dumbs as they figure their shit out. Love you all!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous/ Next

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Dieter wills himself to regulate the adrenaline surging through him, it has his muscles tingling as its increasing levels spread through every pliable fiber.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

He takes in his surroundings, a steady attempt at grounding his mind, assuring him, keeping him present, giving him a chance to regain his composure.

He Sees…

The ornate tile that dresses the front steps to your Spanish Revival home, the perfect backdrop to the ‘welcome’ mat that greets him the minute he arrives to your place.

The sturdy wooden door attached to your home that keeps you protected, allowing you to live comfortably and securely without a bother from the outside world.

The well maintained landscape, no real knowledge of the specific varieties of plants that decorate the front, he senses a low maintenance and drought tolerant feel— a few things he had never heard of until moving in with Diem.

The way the sky begins to shift from its golden orange and purple hues to an even shade of deep blue as the sun tucks behind the horizon line, welcoming the stillness of the night.

The way he is actively replaying an episodic memory of you from just an hour ago when you had joined him at Diem’s house to read over his lines for his upcoming movie role.

“Are you sure you even want me doing this? I don’t know a single thing about acting. Can’t Diem help?? I don’t want to mess you up.”

It’s been a few days since the Capri re-grand opening. And a few days since yours and Dieter’s almost kiss.

There hasn’t really been a discussion on what had happened, or almost happened, only due to the fact that you hadn’t seen each other since Dieter had to leave to take Wren home.

Now you find yourselves sitting in Diem’s living room, on opposite ends of her sectional couch, ignoring the residual heat that is currently reigniting as you both look over the scripts you’re each holding— alone together, zero distractions.

“This scene is between two people who are navigating a new relationship, dancing around the sexual tension between them—“

The coincidence not lost on you.

“So, there’s no fuckin’ way I’d read through this with my sister. And I doubt she’d want to anyways, she hates this kinda shit, so I don’t even bother.“

“Okay, I’ll try my best, but if I fuck up—“

“You’re not gonna fuck up. I highlighted your lines in pink, just focus on those and you’ll do fine. Besides, you’re a teacher— you read stories for a living, just think of it like you’re reading to your class.”

“Dieter, it says right here at the bottom of the page in bold type, ‘HER EYES CLOSE AT HIS TOUCH FOLLOWED BY LOW SENSUAL MOANS’— there’s no fucking way I can imagine myself reading this to my class.”

You look up from the paper, his eyes already on you. You note the way his neck muscles flex as he swallows, the grip on his paper a little tighter— you’re not sure how you’re going to survive this.

He touches…

The weight of his chip, the brass cool against his warm clammy skin, pulling it from his pocket, it sits heavy in his palm— a quick reminder that who he was doesn’t define him now. A few light tosses, before gripping it with his thumb and his forefinger, one last look before returning it to his pocket.

The compact device that connects him to everything important to him in a single touch, his finger navigating back and forth between the home screen image of Wren and him eating donuts then to the text you had sent not long after leaving Diem’s house — Poppy💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it — Then double checking the numbers on the house match the ones that you sent after he text back asking if he could come over tonight— a perfect match.

The silky strands of his ruffled dark brown hair as he tries to tame his wild curls, the cottony fabric of his gray weathered shirt pulling at it in such a way so it drapes over him just right, the rough texture of his faded jeans against his sweaty hands as he rubs them several times over where they hug his thighs— a blind once over of his appearance.

The way his hand skims over the velvety skin above your knee, the hem of your dress delicately dancing over his fingertips, the faint scar that now lives on the side of your thigh from a biking accident as a kid lays uneven under his gentle graze.

“Is this okay?”

Somewhere between shared lines, and fiery dialogue, Dieter finds himself sitting closer to you, his knee brushing against yours—hand so effortlessly placed on your thigh as he checks in with your comfort.

“Y-yeah— it says ‘HIS HAND REACHES THE APEX BETWEEN HER THIGHS’, so she would know that his hand is moving up her leg—.” Your voice trembles as you try to concentrate on the words printed in bold on the current page.

Looking up, you see Dieter’s focus solely on you, his folded script tucked between his leg and the couch cushion.

“That’s not what I asked.” There's a deep husk to his voice, his movements halted as he draws your attention away from the pages and up to him. “Are you comfortable with this, not what the paper reads or act is telling us to do. Is this okay with you?” Your consent, regardless of what the characters are doing, his number one priority.

“Y-yeah…” You murmur as you look down to where his hand is still subtly holding your leg. Your attention drawn back to his handsome face, placing your hand on top of his, encouraging him to continue his efforts.

He hears…

The symphonic resonance of the nightfall harmonics drifts through in the crisp evening air, a modest breeze carries the lilt of the chirping crickets throughout the stilled neighborhood, the rustling of the leaves scattered and swirling across the sidewalk, the faint cries of coyote pups awaiting the arrival of their mother who’s been in search of a hearty meal.

The way his heart beat reverberates against his eardrums, the thudding of his heart an emotive chorus, its pace evening out with each grounding thought.

The way your breath catches, its auditory staccato floats through the air and nestles somewhere deep within his mind, storing its melodic rhythm away as an echoic file, never wanting to forget how it sounds.

Dieter shifts himself forward, the crunch of the leather puckering as he settles a knee on the cushion, a hand gripping the back of the couch as he angles himself closer.

The crackle of paper startles you, Dieter grabbing the crumbled heap of papers and tossing it over his shoulder, removing any distractions that might be bothering.

Bit by bit you allow yourself to fall back onto the mound of decorative pillows in the corner of the couch. Dieter following your lead, keeping a close distance between you as he settled himself between your legs.

“When is Diem going to be home?” You breathed, a warmth spreads through your body as you fixate on the fact that this is really happening.

“Don’t know, at least an hour.”

A few loose curls fall into Dieter’s face, you lightly comb them back, the movements unhurried and attentive. Your fingers catching the frames of his glasses in the process, you gingerly remove them from his face, carefully tossing them to the side— producing your favorite lopsided grin from him.

Dieter pauses to study every little detail of this moment— the flash of want in your eyes, the way your fingertips skim over and around his taut biceps, the deliberate way the tip of your tongue wets your bottom lip before it’s drawn in between your teeth, the way your lungs continue to fill with the air you’re both sharing— he’s never felt more alive than in this moment.

He smells…

The night brings a refreshing scent of calmer air, the aromatic warmth of the citrus groves meld with the fragrant lavender farms that accumulates throughout the day, the herbal aroma that triggers a distinct nostalgic smell of his childhood.

The way your perfume mixes with your natural pheromones, the unmistakable notes of musky vanilla and orange blossom paired with your own unique scent stimulates his olfactory nerves, his spine tingling with pleasure as he breathes you in.

Dieter takes his time, deliberate in his own way, he wants to take his time— savor the moment.

He lowers himself down to the open space where your shoulder meets your neck— warm, delicate and inviting.

You angle your head, allowing him more space to move, your hands wrapping themselves around his neck, twisting his hair between your fingers.

Dieter places a soft tentative kiss to your shoulder, then slowly dragging the tip of his nose up the column of your neck, mindful of how responsive you are, nudging at your jaw before stopping.

“You’re so fucking soft.” His lips ghosting over your ear, voice honeyed and thick, his hand now situated on your bare hip, thumb toying with the seam of your underwear.

You nuzzle into the side of his head, his scent provocative in the way you crave it immensely. The smokiness of the sandalwood and cedarwood compliment the spicy musk and floral base— it’s Dieter, wild and delicious.

He tastes…

The ache for sustenance, a morsel of pleasure activates his taste buds, a palatable desire that he craves in hopes to fight off the hunger that plagues him.

A fieriness burns through your body, causing you to lose all ability to properly handle the way Dieter is making you feel— ravenous. You need more, something substantial that satiates the emptiness and the yearning.

The unfaltering look in his eyes, an unspoken feeling of infatuation that has you melting under his gaze.

Dieter leans in, gradually closing the gap between his lips and yours, sparking the immediate surge of oxytocin actively flowing through your veins.

His breath fanning across your lips, warm and minty, a brief remembrance of your almost kiss— several times over.

This position offers a new approach, angle of motion, feeling the fullness of his bottom lip catch your top lip, your fingers gripping tightly to his hair in anticipation as the weight of his lips begin to slot gently over yours.

*CLICK*

“Dieter? I’m home!” Diem announces her arrival.

Releasing the breath you were holding, grip loosened, warmth lifted— another moment gone.

“Fuck me!” Dieter grumbles, his forehead falling to your shoulder, your chest vibrating with a silent laugh.

Dieter places a kiss to your shoulder then pushes himself back from where he had been hovering over you seconds before, helping you to readjust the flowy fabric of your dress, a silent look to you asking “are you okay?”— you nod yes.

His body slumps back into the cushioned backrest, head falling back as he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away his annoyance at Diem’s horrible timing.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were here too, Poppy. I dropped Wren off for a playdate and picked up some dinner on the way home. You hungry?”

“Umm, no I’m good. Actually, I’m going to head out. I’ve got— there’s some things I need to do. So, yeah— I’m gonna go.”

You feel like two teenagers who were caught by the other’s parents. That awkwardness that looms over afterwards, not really knowing what to say or do.

You give his leg a light squeeze, pulling his attention back from his sulking, propping himself up with his arms on his knees, grabbing your hand and returning the faint gesture.

“I’ll text you later.” You mouthed to him before grabbing your items from the coffee table and making your way to the front door.

“You still on for this Friday?” Diem asks you as she’s unboxing the pizzas she had picked up, arranging a few slices nicely on plates.

“Yep— yeah! Friday is still good! See you later.” Your response short and to the point as you close the door behind you.

Dieter can hear the rustling of the wrappers and then a stillness hangs in the air. His back is to where Diem is standing in the kitchen, but he can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you mention she was coming over? I would have grabbed more food, we could have all hung out together.”

“It was a last minute thing. I asked her to come read lines with me.”

Diem rounds the couch and places the food on the coffee table, before sitting and making herself comfortable.

“So… Did you finally kiss her?”

That gets a laugh from Dieter, face falling into his hands at the ridiculousness of Diem’s question.

“No, I haven’t kissed her.” Tilting his head towards where she’s sitting, chin resting against his clasped hands.

“Oh my god! You haven’t kissed her yet? What the hell, Dieter!”

“Trust me, it’s not for a lack of trying.” He assures her, picking at the toppings of his pizza slice that had fallen onto the plate.

“I don’t get it. If you’ve been trying, then what’s stopping you from actually doing it?”

“You are! Literally every chance I’ve taken, you stroll on in and fuckin’ cockblock me.”

“Wait— you’re blaming me for you not kissing her?” The shocked look on her face is priceless and equally hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m definitely blaming you. You have the worst timing ever!” He laughed, because even as annoyed as he is, the whole situation is a little funny.

*BUZZ*

The vibration of his phone cuts into their conversation, a text from you pops up on to the screen, he swipes it open.

Poppy 💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it.

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few.

He wipes his greasy fingers with a napkin then tossing it onto his forgotten pizza. He stands to his full height, placing his phone in his pocket and makes his way to the door.

“Where are you going? I was going to turn on that one show we’ve been wanting to watch.”

“I’m— going out. Go ahead and start it without me.” He shouts as the door clicks closed behind him.

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few.

Poppy 💐- House number 402. White house on the left side of the street. See you soon!

The distance from your house to Diem’s is a short one, 3 minutes if you’re a fast Walker, 5-6 if you take your time.

Dieter was on his way— to your house.

You toss your phone onto the counter, and run to the bathroom. Not knowing how soon he was leaving after stating he’d be here in a few, didn’t leave you much time to freshen up.

You literally just saw him, so you kept it simple a few swipes of deodorant, clean away any mascara flakes and opting for a fresh coat of chapstick instead of lipstick— less is more approach.

2 minutes down.

Running through the house, you do a quick once over, grabbing any loose items, out of place items or kind of embarrassing items and tossing them into your hall closet— making sure to snag your copy of ‘My Pleasure: An Intimate Guide to Loving Your Body and Having Great Sex’ off of the coffee table.

4 minutes down.

Heading into the kitchen— Maybe he’ll want something to drink? You grab two tall glasses and fill them with ice, sitting on the counter waiting to fill with whatever Dieter wants.

5 minutes down.

Nervously, you stare at the front door, your nervous tick of picking at your fingernails keeps your hands busy. Should I turn some music on? Should I have put on a little more perfume? Maybe I should have brushed my teeth?

*Knock Knock Knock*

You grab for the door handle, pausing for a minute to take a deep breath, then cracking the door open to see Dieter standing on your front porch, hands in his pockets, casually looking down at his feet then up to you at the sound of the creaky door hinges— his face lights up instantly.

“Hey! Hope you found it okay?” You can’t help the dopey smile that grows on your face.

“No issues at all. Didn’t realize how close you lived this whole time.” He says, gesturing in the direction of Diem’s house.

“Yeah, almost neighbors.” Your smirk is laced in flirtation, your head leaning against the edge of the door in the most 90s rom-com way. “You wanna come in?”

“Sure.”

“Are you thirsty at all? I have sparkling and regular water, Diet Coke, and some beer— I haven’t made it to the store this week so I’m running low on things. I’ll be more prepared next time.” You ramble as you lead him into the kitchen, your nervous energy spiking just slightly.

“I’m good for right now, thank you. So, there will be a next time?” He asks, observing the way you bite at your lower lip when he mentions the prospect of a “next time”.

“Yeah,” You shrug your shoulders, noting the way the corner of his mouth quirks up and the light flutter in your stomach that follows. “I think so, if that’s what you want?”

“Yes, definitely want that.”

There’s a beat of silence, sans the sounds of home— the tick of the clock, the clinking of ice falling into the tray, a faint sound of music coming from another room.

“Oh! I—I have your jacket, I keep meaning to bring it over and then it would slip my mind…” Very much a lie, you were wearing it early this morning while you sipped your morning coffee, reading the latest chapter of ‘My Pleasure’… and you also might have worn it afterwards, when you needed a little— relief. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I mean, a little Birdie has been asking about it— it’s not a big deal.”

“Let me go grab it so I’m not tempted to hold it ransom for longer. Umm, help yourself to whatever. Then I can show you the easel, see if it’s something that will work for you.”

“Okay.”

Dieter takes in your home, it’s very much you.

Your love for plants extends inside, dozens of potted green plants, in varying shapes and sizes grace just your living room alone.

There’s a hint of a modern flare to your style, clean lines and lots of wood, a very neutral aesthetic— most of the color living as art work on your walls.

The art hanging throughout your home, he can only assume is your own. He’s drawn to the texture and the style of each painting— faint lines formed into human figures , landscapes resembling the world outside of these walls, and vivid abstract strokes of color adorn canvas everywhere he looks.

A soft glow catches his eye and like a moth to a flame, he’s lured to a dimly lit room— your art studio.

Large windows flank the walls, he imagines the natural light in the daytime is ideal in a space like this.

Tattered empty tubes of acrylic paint, evidence of being overly pinched to extricate every last bit of paint, strewn across a large table against the wall. Empty glass food jars repurposed as storage for your massive collection of paint brushes, while spatulas and other painting instruments lay haphazardly across the tabletop.

The table seems to double as a desk, once light colored, now coated in layers of colorful dried paint drips and spills. He runs his fingers over the surface, a balance of smooth and irregular textures, imagining the years you’ve spent standing over this table deliberately colors and mixing new ones.

Dieter thinks you must have been painting recently, a clear palette holds fresh dollops of paint in the center with a few experimental strokes on the side. He dips a finger into one of the little mounds, rubbing the emulsion between three fingers. It's cold and wet as it glides over his skin.

The wall of windows behind him he finds an easel, it too covered in coats of paint— a newer canvas sits in the support bar, a rough sketch of something just barely visible.

Next to where the easel rests, there are canvases stacked neatly against the wall along the floor. He analyzes each painting with regard, taking in each deliberate stroke and use of color— intently connecting with the emotions you’ve experienced in creating each piece.

He admires your tenacity. Through your long days of teaching at the school, little humans requiring so much of your attention for hours. To volunteering your time to help others explore their creativity at the gallery, planning and teaching weekly. And yet, you still find time to cater to your needs by doing something that makes your life more fulfilling, not allowing any roadblocks to deter your endeavors.

There’s an ache in his chest, a deep reminder of how different his life could have been had he not been bound by the shackles of Hollywood and the dark world that surrounds it.

Dieter had only ever dreamed of having such a space like this of his own, where he could chase a creative high and drown out the loud noises that followed him daily.

Stopping his thoughts before they begin to spiral, he thinks back to a motivational speaker he listened in on while in rehab. There were a lot of valuable words shared during the speech, but he remembers the line that really stood out to him— even through the darkest moments and afflictions that overpowered all his memories and people closest to him, it didn’t mean he is less worthy of a good life, a great life, moving forward.

Dieter realizes that with everything he’d lived through and how much hurt he had caused, he knows those things led him to this point in time— they led him to you.

“I ended up washing it, read the care instructions on the tag so I wouldn’t fuck it up. I found some melted Kit-Kats in the pockets and a few condom wrappers— this jacket has definitely seen some things…” You stop talking when you realize you’re met with an empty room, Dieter not where you had left him. “Dieter?”

There’s a slight movement that pulls your attention in the direction of your studio.

You find Dieter standing in the center of the room, the flicker from a burning candle emits a diffused light, washing his sharp features in a soft glow. There’s almost a pensiveness to his expression, hands tucked in his pockets lost in his thoughts, you watch him quietly take in the room around him.

“I see you helped yourself to a house tour.” You announce your presence as you enter the room, placing his jacket on the overstuffed chair in the corner then turning around to walk in the direction of your large art table, the skirt of your dress shifting from side to side as you walk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—“ He starts to apologize, realizing you both hadn’t set any boundaries with each other.

“It’s fine, I’m just messing with you. I hid all my incriminating things already.” You joke, but there’s something about him that makes you feel like you don’t have to be guarded.

“Are these for your showing?” He asks, pointing to the canvases he had just been studying.

“Yeah,” You say as you turn to face him, lean back against the table. “They’re all pretty much done— I’ll probably fine tune some things before the big day.”

“Can I ask what they represent?? I can see two figures— a man and a woman in some sort of intimate setting. I see the woman is fully fleshed out in color with distinct features, similar to your own— but the man looks like a shadowed figure, starting out blank, then slowly gaining color and personality in each painting— like an evolution of some sort. But what’s the narrative behind them?”

The way he’s analyzing your work, makes you feel even more captivated by him.

“I was having this dream— a nightmare maybe? For weeks, it would come to me every night, always starting out in the same way. I would feel him all around me— his hands, lips, everything. I would try to speak to him, but he would never respond, and I could never see his face, didn’t know who he was. Then he would vanish, like I had lost him and I would wake up in a panic. But as the weeks went on, it was like I could start to see him a little clearer…”

Dieter hangs on to your every word, he’s drawn in to your openness to share your thoughts so freely with him. He steps closer to where you’re standing, wanting to know more about these dreams.

“Go on.” He says softly, encouraging you to share more details.

“Some nights his face was a blur, but I could see his features, more clearly each night. And as his face became more visible over time, the dreams didn’t feel like I was losing him— it felt like I was gaining more of him. The last week or so, I can see his face— I know who he is.”

At some point in explaining the story behind your paintings, your eyes fell to the floor— the way he was watching you so intently felt overwhelming the closer he got.

“Who is he?” He asks, placing two fingers under your chin to slowly lift your gaze up to him.

“You.”

It’s a fierce softness in the way his mouth molds to yours, the gentle press of his lips is breathtaking— punching the air right from your lungs.

His touch is meticulous and thoughtful, resting his hands on your bare thighs, fingers lightly graze over your soft skin leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps.

Your hands snake up his body, settling back to where they were not so long ago— cupping the back of his head, slow drawn out scratches to his scalp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs against your mouth.

“Y-yes— more than okay!” You breathe out— you’ve literally dreamt of this moment.

Experimentally you slowly swipe your tongue across his plump bottom lip, silently begging for a little more and he obliges, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. An equal exchange of feelings and yearning as the kiss alternates between a tangle of tongues and sweet pecks.

Dieter pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, his breaths ragged puffs across your warm face.

“Why did you stop?” Your breath equally as ragged, chest heaving as you question his halted movements.

“Be-because—“ His throat dry as he tries to regulate his breathing. “If we don’t stop, things will get— more serious.”

“I-I’m failing to see the problem in that.” You tease.

“I don’t have any condoms— I didn’t think we’d get this far with our track record.”

“I locked the door, after I let you in— didn’t want to chance any interruptions.” His chest vibrates with a soft chuckle at your response. “I’m clean and on the pill— but only if you’re comfortable.”

“I am, clean I mean— I’m clean, plus haven’t been with anyone in, well, awhile now. Might be a little rusty in all actuality.” He confesses, his thumbs still moving in sweeping motions over the tops of your thighs. “You sure you want this?”

“Very, very sure.” You whisper against his lips, grabbing one of his hands and dragging it slowly up under your dress to the throbbing ache that has settled between your legs since he started kissing you.

“Fuck!” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of your bare cunt, nearly choking on air— his fingers start to tentatively swipe through your wet folds, watching as your eyes start to roll back in pleasure.

“I thought I had felt some kind of underwear earlier?” He asks, as his fingers coated in your slick start to draw lazy circles over your sensitive clit.

“Ah!— I-I did. But I was so keyed up when I — left, I came home and had to— Oh! I had to— Fuck I can’t think straight when you’re doing that!”

“Did you come home and touch yourself?”

“Yessss— Oh god!” You whine breathlessly as two of his fingers enter your heated core, remnants of your earlier orgasm fully welcoming him.

“You’re so perfect.” He exclaimed,

his free hand cupping your face, keeping you close, his thumb lightly tracing across your lower lip.

His two fingers continue to move in and out of you, working up so effortlessly. He presses a long slow kiss to your lips, followed by a few short light ones.

You can feel yourself moving closer to the edge, there’s a tingle running down your spine, converging with the fire that’s beginning to break within you. Your velvety walls begin to flutter around Dieter’s fingers, prompting him to kiss you a little deeper and it’s just the push you need.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna come—“ Your body begins to shake, your hands slamming done on your table— paint splattering into the air.

It’s an inferno of ecstasy blazing through your body, you wrap your arms around Dieter’s waist, clinging to him as you ride it out— letting the embers cool down.

Without a single breath, you grab for the button on Dieter’s jeans as he tries to pull at the straps of your dress. It’s a jumbled mess of limbs, but finally working in tandem to rid each other of clothes.

Dieter crowds you against the table, the edge digging into your lower back causing you to yelp.

“Are you okay?” His eyes etched in concern, as he scans over your blissed out features.

“Ye-yeah! The ta-table is digging.” You say, pointing to show him.

He bends down to grab onto the back of your thighs. “Jump.” He says as he helps guide your naked body onto the table.

His hands rest on the table as he leans in to kiss you again, unhurried as he licks into your mouth as he guides your body to lay down on the table.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Poppy.” He says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and over your chest, stopping and pressing his lips over the spot that he hopes to hold on to for a while— your heart.

The gesture has your eyes welling up, blinking rapidly to fight them off. You feel so completely overwhelmed by him, you have to actively stop yourself from telling him how in love you are with him.

He lifts himself off of you just enough to reach between the two of you, giving his cock a few hasty strokes before notching its weeping head at your entrance.

“Fuck!” He gasps as he slowly pushes his full length into your warm cunt— the slightest ghosting of your climax now pulsing around him.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in as close to you as possible, silently begging him to move, but he grips onto your leg to halt your movements.

“Wait— I need a minute otherwise this is going to be over before it even happens.” He says, resting his head on your sternum to give himself a moment.

“Dieter, it’s fine. Just take what you need— I’m— I’m good.” You feel more than satisfied with the two orgasms you’ve already had, you just want to feel him.

He slowly states to move his hips, several purposeful thrusts, wanting to savor the way you feel, the warmth already starting to bloom in his belly.

Dieter lifts himself off of you, sensing this new angle is pleasant based on how you start to arch your back off the table, his steady thrusts working you both up in a desired frenzy.

“Fuuuuck, you feel like a dream., Poppy.” His voice is hoarse, glancing down to watch the way your arousal coats him, his hands gripping your waist as he thrusting into with a little more earnestness.

“Dieter— I think I’m going to come again— oh god!!” You announced into the lust filled room, the tell-tale signs barreling through your body.

You try to grab onto something, hands looking for something to anchor yourself to, Dieter too far away and too lost in his own pursuit— each thrust is a little deeper producing your muscles to tighten on their own accord.

An unexpected swipe of Dieter’s thumb over your clit is blinding, sweet erotic sounds pouring from your mouth, hands slamming back onto the table, you're met with wetness, your brain registering where you are and that your hands are covered in paint.

The thick emulsion is cold when it hits your skin, your nipples pebble at the sensation of the paint gliding over them, your hands kneading the weight of your breasts— paint building up between your fingers with each calculated squeeze, each roll of your nipple sends you closer to your third orgasm.

You look up to see Dieter’s slack jawed expression, which only makes you emphasize your movements, giving him a little show. You’re arched back putting your chest on display, your hands working over your exposed skin covering your upper body in a rainbow of colors.

“Oh shit— shitshitshitshit— I’m gonna— fuck!” The sight of you sets Dieter off, folding himself over the top of you, face nestled into the crook of your neck as his thrusts begin to falter at the way your cunt begins to contract around him.

A gravelly moan against your damp skin and one final thrust, his hips still as he’s spilling into you.

The room is still again. The faint scent of your oud and sandalwood candle is overpowered by the sex hazed aroma. Chests moving against each other simultaneously, lungs begging to properly breathe, skin slipping with each pull of air— this might become your favorite way to create art.

A soft kiss to your shoulder as Dieter lifts himself up into his forearms, resting his temple against your jaw to give his arms a chance to regain their strength before giving you a softer kiss to your lips.

“That was—“ He’s still trying to regulate his breathing, words jumbled in his brain and not quite producing properly.

“Amazing!” You finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah— amazing.” He says, one more kiss because he doesn’t think he’s given you enough yet, then he’s slowly pulling out of you and helping you sit upright.

“What a mess we made of ourselves.” You laugh as you examine both of your colorful torsos.

“Worth it.” Dieter replied with a slight shrug and a quirky smile on his handsome face.

“I’m going to go grab some stuff to clean us up. I’ll be right back.”

Hopping off the table to head towards your bathroom, Dieter grabs you by the wrist, spinning you back towards him, your bodies flush against each once more as he gives you a toe curling kiss.

“Alright, hurry back.” He says, giving your backside a few taps.

You take a few minutes to freshen yourself up, wiping away as much of the paint as you can.

Throwing on a clean pair of underwear and a loose shirt, the hardwood cool against your bare feet, you make your way back to your studio where you’re met with an unexpected sight when you get to the door, Dieter sitting in front of your easel where your last canvas sits. His naked body wrapped in his fuzzy coat, his brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moves around the canvas with a paint drenched brush.

You take a moment to just watch him, leaning into the door frame, watching how he looks so relaxed and happy.

“You snoop and you help yourself to my painting, you sir are a menace.” You jokingly say to him, it earns you a generous laugh.

“Sorry, guess I’m two for two now. I saw you had it roughly sketched out and thought I’d paint you the way I see you.” He explained, leaning back into the small metal chair.

“And how do you see me?”

“Beautiful.” The word floats out and around you, its weight settling into that little space in your chest that has felt empty for so long.

“That’s two times you’ve painted me now— I think those would be grounds for someone to fall in love.” You tease, but there’s truth wrapped up in your statement. Pushing yourself off the doorframe, making your way over to where he’s sitting.

He places the brush in the glass of water, his hand reaching out for you to come closer, softly grabbing at your hips he’s pulling you down so you’re straddling his lap— fully aware he’s still naked and covered in paint under his jacket.

“Do you?” He has to know if you’re feeling the same way as him. “Do you, love me?”

“Yes.” Your voice a little wobbly, your emotions bubbling up in your chest.

But you do, you love him without a doubt and it’s the most terrifying and thrilling feeling you’ve experienced in a long time.

“I love you too, Poppy.” He whispers to you, his eyes glossy as he fights back tears.

“Why are you crying?” Wiping the single tear that has started to fall down his cheek.

“I’m scared— that I’m going to fuck this up. And you’re going to resent me. And I’ll be back to where I was a year ago— alone.”

Your heart nearly breaks at his confession.

“That’s not going to happen though.” Brushing his wild hair away from his eyes, caressing his face and hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t. But a wise man once told me— we’ll figure it out as we go.”

His arm wraps around your waist as his other hand cups the back of your neck, bringing your face to his, your nose bumping into his.

“I love you.” He breathes against your lips.

And before you even have a chance to reciprocate, he’s kissing you with so much love and feeling.

“Will you come? To see my showing on opening night?” You ask between feather-like kisses.

“I wouldn’t miss it, Poppy.”

It’s a few hours later when Dieter walks through the front door of Diem’s house, ready for a shower and sleep.

“You’re home late.” Diem’s voice sounds from the same spot on the couch he’d left her in.

“Uh, yeah. Lost track of time.”

“Were you at Poppy’s?” She asks with herround of motherly questioning.

“Yeah, I was. She had that easel, so I went to get it.”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The easel.”

“Oh, I— I must have forgot it. We were talking, lost track of time. I’ll grab it another time. I’m gonna take a shower then head to bed. Night.” Hoping to throw her off his scent, the last thing he wants is to hear her boast about what you and him were up to.

“Night. Oh hey, Dieter.”

“Yeah.” Turning back towards her.

“Make sure you wash that cute hand print on your neck.” Her devilish grin beaming at him.

He gives her a middle finger for good measure, then heads to the bathroom.

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #wildemaven writes

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stargazing-imagines · 5 months

Text

What we had — Conrad Fisher x Model!Reader

Description — after dating Conrad for a few years, you find out that he has been cheating on you with belly, years later you return to cousins beach… but there a different aura to you

Warnings — mentions of reader being known as a slut, mentions of abandonment issues, bad writing, name calling?

Fandom — the summer I turned pretty

A/n — it been a while since I posted a fic. I hope you enjoy this one! Don’t kill me but this one has a sad ending! It for the sake of the imagine so keep that in mind, besides. I got this idea from an Episode story I read, so credit to the authors of that story!

“I can’t believe you!” You shouted to your boyfriend of 2 years, voices echoing from the fishers beach house

“Y/n, it was a mistake I swear!” Said Conrad as he tried to reason with you, you scoffed

“Please… I know what a make out session looks like and I just witnessed you and belly having one just a minute ago!”

“It didn’t mean anything!” Said Conrad “you have to believe me!”

“You know what, I’m done.” You said on the verge of tears “I hope you two are very happy together!”

With that you left, wiping a tear from your face

3 years later

“Y/n L/n!” Shouted the paparazzi “is it true that you are dating Liam Hosterman?”

You rolled your eyes before responding, sunglasses covering your face. Let’s just say that after the whole Conrad and belly fiasco, you went rogue. Parties all night, and ending the night with a new boy on your arm. It was the life you enjoyed… that was until you got an invitation to belly’s graduation party.

“I think you should go.” Said your best friend Nora as she sat opposite side of the couch from you.

“Please, I rather eat dirt then face Conrad fisher.” You said as you sipped on your tea “besides he wouldn’t want to see me anyway.”

“Girl, he sent you flowers 5 months ago apologizing for what he did.”

“Yeah… 3 years to late.” You said “besides I have a hot date that day so I have to politely decline.”

“I think your being selfish.” Said Nora “the girl speaks highly of you, didn’t you say that you were her big sister for the debutante ball that summer?” Asked Nora, you huffed.

“Just think about it.” Said Nora as she gave your hand a pat before leaving.

Here you were, on the plane to cousins beach… hoping you wouldn’t regret a single thing, after your flight landed, you placed your sunglasses over your eyes.

“This is going to be a long vacation.”

“I’m so excited that you can make it.” Said laurel as she gave you a hug “I think your old room is still the same, susannah has been decorating it ever since she recived your RSVP.”

You nodded your head at the thought

“There’s my darling Angel.” Said Susannah as she opened her arms signaling you to hug her, you hugged her

“Look at you! You look way different then you did 3 years ago.”

“Thanks Susannah, Is Conrad around?” You asked

“He just called, he won’t be landing till in the morning.” Said Susannah

Great that gave you perfect time to figure out a plan to avoid Conrad this whole week

“I’m going to drop my luggage off to my room.” You said as you walked upstairs

It was the next day, and you were out back near the pool tanning as belly was swimming in the pool.

“Hey are you going to make up with Conrad this summer?” Asked belly as she got out of the pool, joining you on the loungers, towel wrapped around her.

“Maybe, maybe not, why?” You asked

“I think you should give the boy a second chance.” Said belly

“Why did you kiss him 3 years ago?” You asked

“Honestly… I just wanted to see if my crush on his was real or a infatuation.” Said belly

“And?”

“It was a infatuation… I’m sorry…”

“It-“

“Belly, laurel wants you in the kitc-“

He stops mid sentence when he sees you, you freeze as you hear the voice

“Talk to him.” Whispered belly as she walked away

“Hey-“

“Don’t hey me!” You said as you stayed glued on the loungers, back turned “In fact, don’t even come near me.”

“You look great…”

“Please stop flattering me… that’s not going to work on me this time.”

“Is that because your to good for me? To good for us?” Asked Conrad “you haven’t even visited us in three years Y/n!” Shouted Conrad “Mom was devastated!”

“I was heartbroken Conrad!”

“Oh so sleeping with every guy that you can find is going to mend your broken heart?”

You sighed, you ran your hand through your hair before standing up

“Your the reason that I am the way that I am!” You shouted “if you didn’t cheat on me 3 years ago we wouldn’t be in this position!”

Conrad scoffed

“Who are you and what happened to the girl that I fell in love with 3 summers ago?”

“She’s changed Conrad.” You said “deal with it!”

You stormed off before feeling a hand on your wrist

“What we had was special.” Said Conrad “if your going to throw away what we had then your crazy.”

With that he left, you pondered for a moment before speaking out

“Wait…” you said, Conrad turned around “I’m sorry ok.” You said “I’m sorry that I left, but I did it because I wanted to focus on me.”

“Yeah but leaving?” Said Conrad “that is the most stupidest thing you ever done, we could have talked things out but what did you do? You ran away.”

With that Conrad went back into the beach house, leaving you by the loungers, you sat back down puffing in annoyance.

“He isn’t going to forgive me belly so just drop it.” You said as you snacked on a cracker

“Look. I know what you did was to better yourself, but Conrad was heartbroken when he found out that you were sleeping with the whole city of New York.”

“I know…” you said “it’s just… it was the only way to take the pain away.”

“Did you at least go to a therapist or a shrink, one?”

“Yeah… turns out I have a bad case of abandonment issues.”

“Your parents were pretty much absent in your life.” Said Jeremiah, belly nudged him

That was true, all your life you only had Susannah and laurel as mother figures in your life. Susannah was a good friend of you’re mom, and every summer you would go with the fishers to cousins beach. Turns out, it was your parents way of saying we don’t wantyou around. Who was there for you when you got your first period? Susannah, who was there when you got your first heartbreak at the age of 16? Susannah, she treated you like you were her own daughter. Unlike your own mother.

“Jeremiah!”

After belly said that, a knock was heard. You turned your head and saw Conrad standing in the doorway.

“I hate to budge in but… y/n can we talk?”

You looked back at belly and Jeremiah, who signaled that it was alright as they left, Conrad walked in.

“How much did you hear?”

“Everything… y/n I’m sorry for what I did.” Said Conrad as he grabbed a hold of your hand “do you forgive me?”

You let out a faint smile before cupping his face

“Of course I forgive you.” You said

You kissed his lips for a brief second before pulling away

“How I missed this.” Said Conrad as he smiled, you let out a giggle.

—

The summer I turned pretty masterlist

#the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x you #conrad x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp conrad

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dollydaisies · 3 months

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Can I pls request a BTS reaction? They have a crush on their friend who is not a celebrity, so they can't confess to her because of their reputation/job, but they are really close. One day someone from their company revealed a sensitive information about them. So, the members and the company accused her of it because they thought that she was only with them to become famous. They didn't believe her and also told her many hurtful things. But later it was revealed that it was not her but someone else and she was telling the truth. Later they try to reconcile with her and asks her to forgive them but it was too late. Can you please write it as angst?

If it's too specific for you, you don't have to write it. Thank you anyways ☺️☺️

my first ask! thank you so much for sending this! my bts skills may be a tad bit rusty, so i'm sorry if this isn't up to par with your expectations. im doing allll the research i can! some things may be changed up a bit, but i'm trying to stick to your prompt the best that i can!

summary: forbidden love hurts, and it sometimes builds up frustration inside you, which then turns into flipping out on the person you love nonsensically solely because you're overwhelmed. they had to learn to think before they act, and, now, they're suffering from the consequences of their actions.

characters: just to test the waters and see if you like what i'm doing, i am only doing kim namjoon. if you like this, i will continue with the other members i’m comfortable writing! please tell me if i did well or was a lil' off. i'll always take constructive criticism:)

kim namjoon never meant to hurt anyone, but he especially made sure that he would not hurt you. he cares about you so much, to the point where seeing you even slightly sad could mess up his whole day.

you're bts's songwriter and producer, but also their friend. when they make plans, they want to include you, always. even if they go to the beach for a run bts episode, they want YOU to be there after the cameras are off. of course, every single member of the group wants you to be around, but namjoon insists on it. you're his safe place, the person he confides in when times get hard--why wouldn't he want you there?

"are you sure you don't want to come with us on this tour?" namjoon looks at you with full passion in his eyes. he wants you to come with them, even if he won't directly say it. "you know that we will always want you to come with, right?"

that little "we" always gets you every time. sure, you know that it's true, and so does he, but that's not what you want to hear and that's not what he wants to say. you want to hear him say "i want you to come with," but it feels like he refuses to say it. he's only not saying it because it'll make his feelings too real, and he can't deal with the reality that you can never be his.

"ah, i know, joonie... but i need to work on the ideas you all gave me for this next album. it's the final one before you all go on hiatus, so i can't take a break," you respond, playing with your bowl of ramen without eating it. you're the only two in the kitchen, and it's quiet. "i'd love to go, but i just can't afford to right now. you know i'm short on money."

namjoon sighs, but nods. "i understand. it's just gonna be hard to be on tour without you."

you send him a sweet smile, then giggle softly. "you're such a baby, did you know that?"

"it's our little secret, keep it hush."

that wasn't the secret that destroyed everything you've built with him over the past decade, but it was more of a foreshadow. you felt excited at the idea of having a secret with him, but also dread--this is silly, though. you guys have thousands of secrets. you're best friends, and you always have been, so why is your gut telling you to fight or fly?

around a week later, dispatch reports on news that namjoon has never told a soul about--except for you. the moment his brain processes the information told to him by the higher-ups, he immediately gets up from his seat and marches to your usual spot that you linger in.

"get out."

"huh?"

your face is full of pure confusion, a bit like a deer in headlights. sure, you've had your arguments and fights before, but he has never been this harsh off the bat--hell, he was rarely ever truly harsh.

the way his eyes look at you with pure disgust, and the sarcastic laugh he lets out... it feels like you don't know who's standing in front of you. yeah, it's namjoon, but... it's also not.

"i knew you were desperate for money, y/n, but i didn't think you'd be this desperate. if i knew you were like this, i would've fired you sooner."

"namjoon, what the hell are you talking about?" you stand up from your seat, yelling at him a bit. it's obvious you aren't even mad, you're just a mix of confused, scared, and worried.

"you know what i'm talking about, y/n. hell, the rest of the world does as well, since you decided to go to dispatch about it."

he holds up his phone so you can look at the site he pulled up. you scrolled and scrolled in pure shock, confusion, and disgust. "i... namjoon, i did not rat you out to anyone. why would i?"

"people like you only care about money. figure it out, and get out of this dorm."

absolutely stunned, you walk to the door in complete silence, then turn around. he looks a bit lost in thought, then he finally sees you. you, whose eyes are full of tears; you, whose cheeks are red due to how panicked you got from him yelling; and you, who refused to yell at him back even when he disrespected you.

while he was so sure he was right, a pit in his stomach grew larger. he feels like he’s doing something bad, something wrong, and he doesn’t know why.

"i just want to say," you pause for a second, then continued. "if this is the real you, kim namjoon, maybe i should've been the one to expose you after all."

you slam the door.

months have passed, and you work at a local music store. sure, you write songs still, but they're not for anyone else except you. you refused to talk to all of them, talk about all of them, or even think about any of them. in your mind, bts disbanded the second he broke your heart, and your trust. truthfully, it’s unfair, as all the other members have texted you so many times and begged for a response, but you can’t think of them without thinking of him.

the store is completely empty, so you're scrolling through every single social media app you have downloaded brainlessly. the words you're reading are not completely processing in your head at all, they kinda just look like funky shapes.

one title, though, caught your attention.

"kim namjoon talks about trust, compassion, and friendship in recent SEVENTEEN interview."

your jaw clenches, and you slam your phone down. your tears are threatening to come out, but you refuse to let yourself still be hurt by him. he doesn't deserve your time, your tears, your anything. that's, at least, what you keep trying to convince yourself of, anyways.

the bell at the door rings, and you try to regain your composure. you

"welcome to good vibes, home to all of the--"

you freeze. you don't know what to do, what to say, or how to even move. are you supposed to say anything? it's not like he’s saying anything—hell, he has a mask over his face and a hood on his head, but you KNOW it’s him. now, he’s just staring at you blankly. you’re wearing a mask, so maybe there’s a chance—

“y/n,” namjoon softly says your name, and your heart pangs against your chest. it’s a mix of heartbreak, anxiety, and all the leftover love you have for him. “i was looking for you.”

you’re so nervous, you could burst into tears. you want to hop over your desk and run into his arms and tell him how much you miss him, but also how much you hate him for hurting you so much. why do you still love a man that said such unforgivable words?

“why?” your words were a bit breathy, and you began to chuckle a bit while shaking your head. “there’s nothing left to say—unless, y’know, you’re gonna tell me all i care about is money again because i have a job.”

“i’m sorry,” namjoon sighs, then walks to you. the desk separates you, but you wish you could fall into his arms. you keep your composure all the same, though.

“that day, i was so stressed. it felt as if so many things were happening at once, and to know that a secret that i only told you got out… i felt so much betrayal all at once, i didn’t want to hear you out. if i’m being completely vulnerable, i wanted to go cry,” he let out a small chuckle.

looking at you, your face was completely unreadable. it’s like you were thinking of so many things, but also of nothing at the same time. was he doing well? he doesn’t know. he’s just going with what he feels in his heart.

“in my heart, i knew i should’ve ran back to you and apologized; in my heart, i knew i should’ve heard every single word you said, because you would never lie to me,” namjoon balls his hands into a fists, then looks at you in the eyes, “so i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that i was wrong.”

the store was tense, and all you could hear is the music playing so softly in the background as you stare at him. he’s trying to read your expression, to see if there’s any bit of leftover love in your eyes, but it just feels cold.

after a minute, you begin to laugh. it’s a full laughing attack, actually, and namjoon just stares. his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, because he’s not stupid—he knows this means he’s fucked up.

“what, did you think was a kdrama, namjoon? did you think i was going to hear that apology, jump into your arms, and say, ‘oppa, never hurt me ever again!’ or something?” you say these words while still laughing, and namjoon is still stunned. “what happened for you to come up here and say this to me? based on your new change in personality with… hating poor people and all, i can’t imagine you just woke up one day and did it.”

“we found who actually did it. it was our stylist, sooyoung.”

“so that’s what it took for you to finally realize i was innocent? instead of thinking back ro everything you said to me and how hurt i was, it took them finding out the real person behind the crime for you to realize i was telling the truth?”

you slam your hand on the desk, and your body is trembling. you’re on an adrenaline rush, but you’re also sad, scared, and angry. namjoon notices this and places his hand on yours, like he always used to.

“y/n, you’re shaking, please ca—“

“i don’t give a fuck, namjoon,” you yell, and namjoon is completely frozen. “i’ve known you since you were a trainee, and, yet, you still thought that i was some… freaky gold digger that would sell her friends out for money. do you know how much that hurts? to know that you think i have the potential to be like that?”

namjoon’s eyes begin to tear up, while your eyes have already overflown. your cheeks are entirely red, and you let out a choked sob. your head drops, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“for over a decade, i have been nothing but loyal and true to you; yet, it takes a full-blown investigation for you to realize how you did me wrong,” you then look up at him with no sympathy in your body. “it’s my turn to tell you to get out, namjoon. and, for your sake, never come back. i never want to see you again.”

he hesitates to walk away, and you’re staring at him, emotionless.

“what, are you deaf? get out.”

namjoon finally leaves, walking quickly towards his car, and you fall to your knees. you’re on the cold floor, shaking and crying, as you realize your life will never be the same ever again.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts x reader #namjoon scenarios #namjoon!‎ ‎𖹭 #namjoon x reader

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damn-stark · 9 months

Text

Chapter 2 Just a girl

Chapter 2 of Sugar

A/N- Gojo siblings are the cause of everyone’s stress.

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, violence, blood, creepy man, FLUFF, long chapter.

Pairing- Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode- Before episode 2x01

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*A MONTH LATER*

You are one with nature. You are one with the elements around you, the elements you can control.

You can feel the air unfurl over the perimeters of your exposed skin. You can feel the air brushing the leaves away, you can feel air unfurl out of the noses of your friends. You can feel the water from the snow that litters the ground, you can feel water in the tiny snowflakes that fall from the white sky. You can feel the dirt beneath the blanket of snow, you feel it beneath yourself, you can feel—hear, you can hear footsteps crunching in the snow….

“Whoa, what is this? What are you guys doing?”

Tsk. Satoru.

“We’re mediating,” you let him know as you keep your eyes closed while he gets closer with none other than Shoko and Geto with him. You don’t need to see to know that the additional footsteps are them—“and Nanami and Haibara are helping me.”

“By what? Helping you hum?” Satoru jokes and laughs all by himself.

You sigh in response and peel your eyes open, catching him plop himself down beside you.

“Actually—”

“How to be one with nature,” Satoru reads the book that was left beside you. “Blah. How cheesy is that?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “I’m learning how to connect with the elements I can manipulate, brother.” You grumble and notice Geto walking to Satoru's side to take the book from his hands to actually read the words himself; unlike Satoru who just judged the cover.

Albeit not like you care if Geto actually takes the time to skim the pages of what actually matters to you, ever since he helped your brother prank you, ever since you saw him laugh that night last month all you can see is how much of an ass he is. Satoru you can forgive because he’s your brother, but Geto?

You have made it your mission to just ignore him. Or as best as you can anyway, he’s everywhere.

Then again maybe it’s your own fault, you raised your expectations. You let this crush you got for him overwhelm you.

But still, no, you didn’t like that he did that. It just made him seem like some fake jerk. Like he pretends to be kind but he’s actually mean. At least with guys like Satoru, you know what to deal with, but Geto? They know how to manipulate into making you think they’re kind, they know how to speak sweetly, act like it, but then they turn around and reveal how much of a real jerk they are.

That’s why you don’t want to speak to him ever again. You hate guys like that—no, people like that in general. You only have to tolerate Geto because you’re schoolmates, comrades, and because he’s your brother's best friend.

“If I learn to connect with the elements,” you continue to explain. “They’ll be easier to use, they’ll be less heavy and wary on my energy. So that’s why I’m meditating outside, the book says it’s a great way to connect.” You smile proudly as you actually begin to get excited. “And Nanami and Haibara are keeping me company so I’m not alone, and it’s also helping their own mental health.”

Satoru hums, and Haibara flashes a sweet smile.

“It says here that it helps lift your mood, and helps you feel better about things,” Geto reads off a page, making your stomach churn. “Maybe you should give it a try, Satoru.”

“I already feel great,” Satoru rebuttals smugly and sits back.

You roll your eyes.

“This is why your sister is smarter than you, Satoru,” Shoko retorts with a teasing smile.

Satoru shrugs. “Yeah, perhaps.”

You look at the girl sitting next to Nanami on the stone bench to interject, “you should join us Shoko. Nanami and Haibara have agreed to mediate with me once a week.” You begin to smile and push yourself to your knees to get closer to her. “I'm sure it’ll help you smoke less, and relieve stress from your studies.”

Shoko leans down towards you and shoots you a smile. “Yeah,” she agrees, making my heart skip a beat. “I think I will if I’m not busy.”

You grin brightly. “Great.”

“Maybe I’ll join you too, y/n,” Geto butts in while he steps forward to hand you the book.

You roll your eyes over to him and snatch the book back before you turn and give him your back and don’t say anything. You ignore him and make sure not to let him speak. “Nanami, can you hand me my water?”

Said man takes out two water bottles from your bag to take one himself and then throws one at you, that you catch swiftly.

It’s been one month since starting here at Jujutsu High and you already get along pretty well with your fellow classmates. And well, how can someone not after fighting evil cursed spirits together? Sure you don’t get assigned anything extremely hard, but curses are dangerous nonetheless, and to work better together it’s better to know one another. So it’s safe to say that you’re very close with both Haibara and Nanami; even if Nanami is very reserved.

“Satoru!” You then exclaim and turn at a quick speed to grab his arm as you remember something. “You should have seen me today, man. I totally eradicated that fucking curse today!”

Satoru tilts his head to the side to look at you through his shades, so you let him go to flick your wrists up and imitate an action you did today. “I was like boom!” You share with excitement. “And it got thrown back before he exploded and vanished!”

A smile tugs on his lips. “Ah, did you use the trick I told you?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. The sphere worked!”

Satoru’s smile widens. “Cool, I’ll have to see it in action soon then,” he says, letting you sit back against Shoko’s legs with relief that he reacted kindly and with pride.

“Nanami, Y/N, and I planned to go watch a movie soon,” Haibara changes the subject. “You three should come.”

“Oh,” Geto interjects. “About that.”

You blink and look at him with a pointed look.

“We’ve actually been summoned for a mission. The six of us.”

All students? That’s new.

“You just say this now?” Nanami retorts.

“We wanted to relax for a few,” Shoko defends their actions.

You groan. “What a pain in the ass, it was almost the end of the day too.”

Haibara gets up along with Nanami, Satoru follows suit, making Shoko tap your shoulders. “Come on, let’s get on up.”

You groan and drop your head, Satoru then bends down to grab your arm and lift you up to your feet so you can begin dragging yourself after them.

“We can go to the movies tomorrow,” Geto assures all of you.

You pout and only because the school day was about to end, which meant the rest of that evening was free to just relax. Plus Nanami, Haibara and you already went on a mission this morning.

“Y/N, have you bought anything for the Christmas Eve party?” Shoko asks. “Or are you and Satoru going home?”

You tilt your head towards her and shake your head. “Nah, we’re not going home until after, for New Years. So to answer your first question, no, I have yet to buy something.”

“Cool then we should go shopping. I still need to find something too,” she shares, making your spirits perk up. “We can invite Utahime too.”

You grin as you straighten up. “Yeah! That will be so cool!”

“Hey I’ll come too,” Satoru interjects, causing both you and Shoko to counter at the same time.

“No!”

Geto snickers, and Satoru frowns.

“It’s a girl's day,” you tell your brother. “We don’t want mean boys hanging around us. Hang out with Geto or something.”

“Fine,” Satoru mumbles. “Nanami, Haibara, Suguru and I will also go to the mall, that same day. It will be a guys day.” He declares and hits his chest.

You shoot him a pointed glare and spat back. “No, you can’t go to the mall too.”

“Why not?” Satoru retorts sassily, knowing full well why not. “We won’t even be with you guys. We’re going separately. Is there something against that?”

Your eyebrows furrow and you point at him. “Yes!” You look back. “Haibara you won’t go!” You would have told Geto, but you don't want to give him the time of day more than you have to.

“Please don’t bring me into this,” Haibara speaks up nervously.

Satoru tilts his head down and meets your gaze with a smug little smirk, making your annoyance heighten.

Yet just as you was about to counter, Geto cuts in.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two.” He pushes past between your brother and you, but pulls Satoru with him by his sleeve. “Satoru, leave your sister alone. Y/N we won’t mess with your day.”

Satoru peers back and shakes his head, so you flip him off.

Soon thereafter you meet up with the teacher, and he doesn’t hesitate to get to the point of explaining what he needs from all of you.

“I summoned each and everyone of you because we were called to look into what is the cause of recent disappearances here,” he shares and clicks on the computer to show a well kept mansion that’s two hours away from Tokyo.

“At first it started with one every few weeks, the local police thought they could solve it,” the teacher continues. “But multiple people have begun to go missing over the span of a week. Neighbors and people passing by have reported paranormal activity, people going in but not coming out. Your job is too exorcize the cause before the news becomes national. Questions?”

You all pass questioning looks, but neither of you speak up on the matter. You more so question how big of a scale this mission truly is that it requires all six of you. Usually big missions are given to just Geto and Satoru, but this? This isn’t giving you a good feeling.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“It’s my first group mission,” you happily exclaim as you pull out a camera from your bag whilst you all head towards the metal gates that surround the mansion. “I want to record this moment to preserve it forever.”

“Recording the day of our deaths seems pretty solemn,” Nanami mutters, whilst you hand the camera to Haibara.

“Hit record,” you instruct quietly as you fix your sleeve that’s wrapped tightly around your arm.

“We’re supposed to be taking this seriously,” Geto interjects as Haibara signals with a thumbs up that the camera is recording.

“Today—”

“Today,” Satoru interrupts as he sways to the side to block you and get in front of the camera himself. “Is my little sister's first group mission,” he continues to speak to the camera. “Group missions are rare, but usually they’re eventful.”

You quickly walk out from behind him to once again be in the cameras shot.

“For example today we are looking into disappearances happening in this very eerie mansion.” He points to the mansion, and Haibara turns to point the camera at the target. “It’s said curses lurk inside,” Satoru narrates, and skips over to be in the shot as Nanami walks ahead to open the gates, letting all of you inside the grounds.

“We’ll see how bad it is once we get inside,” Satoru says, “or will y/n be the biggest curse we see in there!” He chuckles at the camera before Haibara turns to point the camera at you to record your annoyed reaction.

“Anyway,” you sigh and begin to smile. “Today we have me, y/n Gojo, next to me is Suguru Geto,” you point to the man beside you with pretty well hidden disdain. And as the camera pans to Geto, he just waves stiffly, so you move on.

“And behind me is the coolest, Ieiri Shoko!” You exclaim with a wide smile. “Which! It's said she’s hardly sent on any dangerous missions, so she is our companion of honor today!”

Said girl throws a peace sign and grins at the camera.

“We almost have to wonder why it was that she was sent!” Nanami interjects as he leads the group towards the big red doors that lead inside the house.

“And the person with that lovely commentary was Nanami Kento!” You beam and watch as Haibara points the camera over to the blond guy giving his back to the group.

“And here’s me!” Satoru just cuts in harshly as he jumps in frame again. “Satoru Gojo!” He grins. “And lastly—”

“But not least,” you quickly interrupt loudly so your voice can be picked up.

“…behind the camera is Haibara Yu,” Satoru finishes announcing, letting said guy turn the camera to wave.

Now that the introductions are done you finally realize how close you’re getting to the inside. You had been wary and scared earlier, but now that’s all just heightened. You can hear your own blood pumping in your ears, you feel your heart racing in your chest. Once you reach the red doors the more it feels like something is wrapping around your throat, making it hard to breathe.

“We’ve reached the door, so now Nanami is going to open them to our doom,” Satoru narrates in a deep voice.

Haibara is recording beside Satoru with the camera at an angle so all of your faces can be in frame. Well, almost everyone because Nanami has made it his mission to avoid being recorded, plus he’s opening the door and welcoming the sight of…

Darkness, the corridor is dark and empty, only a sour horrendous stench welcomes all of you as the doors get pushed open. No curses lurk at the entrance, only dust particles float around the air. You can only hear the sounds they make in the distance, you can hear their noises echo throughout the dark filled hall. Only adding to the eerines that already polluted this establishment.

“The camera can’t pick up curses,” Satoru continues to speak with no ounce of fear in his voice. “But I’ll like to inform the camera that this entrance is just a haunting darkness that’s filled with eerie sounds.”

You look around, noting that Nanami couldn’t turn on any lights. You notice the tall ceilings, and a large stained glass window over the door that reflects in the only source of light over large double spiral stairs. You see multiple halls, different rooms that surround this dust filled house and you can’t help but feel like this house must’ve been beautiful once upon a time. Now it’s nothing but a haunting trap that looks like it hides something sinister, like whatever curses that are here are just waiting in the shadows. It keeps you on edge.

So much so that as something beneath you pops, you scream and instinctively jump over to clutch onto Geto still by you.

However, mere seconds pass and everything stays still, everyone just stops to look at you. When you realize that there’s nothing you look down and see it was just a bag of chips.

“As you can see, being a Jujutsu Sorcerer doesn’t automatically make you brave,” Satoru comments. “But as always I am the fearless leader.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, and then glance over at Geto to show off an apologetic smile as you let him go.

Geto meets your gaze and offers you a soft amused smile with those dark eyes of his, but! Even if his smile is nice, he still makes your stomach churn so you just quickly look away and go on ahead to reach Satoru instead.

However, only seconds later Geto intervenes before you can make it inside any further. “Okay, it’s time to stop the camera.” He proceeds to reach over to cover it to make Haibara turn it off, while you also come to a stop. “This is what we’re going to do.”

Haibara hands you back my camera so you can put it away while Geto addresses the group. “This place is big, we’ll take long scrounging every hall together, so in order to cover more ground we will split into groups of two.”

Oh?! Hopefully you get Shoko! Or Haibara! Even Satoru would be nice!

“Nanami, you and Satoru will be a team.” Geto announces.

“Sweet,” Satoru celebrates eagerly, whilst Nanami just sighs.

“Shoko…”

You cross your fingers and hope It’s you.

“…You’ll be with Haibara.”

No!

Geto glances over at you a bit puzzled before continuing. “Leaving Y/N and I to be in a group.”

You don’t hide your discontent and groan.

“Excuse me?” Satoru actually tries to protest about Geto and you being a pair.

Geto sighs. “Don’t argue, let’s go. That way we get to go home faster. If you’re in trouble, text or call. Shout if you can, anyone can go and help if they can,” he continues to share his plan. “Once you find the cause just excorize it if we still haven’t reunited by then. If it gets outside someone put up the veil. Understand?”

Haibara nods eagerly. “Got it!”

“Good,” Geto seeks no further confirmation. “Let’s go.”

Just like that, with no room left for arguing everyone disperses with their appointed teammate. Which out of everyone why Geto?

He must want to torture you with this awkward silence on purpose. He probably wants to continue displaying and preaching this fake persona he kept showing off when you first met.

“I need to ask,” Geto breaks the silence and peers back at you as you don’t rush over to follow him by his side. “Did I do something to upset you?”

Oh shit….

Well besides being two faced?

“Nothing,” you lie and only briefly meet his gaze before you continue to walk up the spiral stairs. “Why do you ask?”

Geto slows down his pace to fall beside you, causing your breath to hitch. “Well, you don’t talk to me. And it’s not like our school is full of other students, so we always cross paths. We have the same friends now. And,” he sighs and looks over at you as you keep your gaze averted. “I just sense that you’re upset at me.”

You shake your head. “No. There’s no reason why I should be upset at you.” You shrug to brush it off. “And well you’re my brother's friend, so.”

Geto scoffs. “So what? I'm your friend now too,” he says making you just peek over at him. “And I think you’re pretty cool, and nice to talk to…”

You swallow thickly and quickly snap your eyes ahead to try and see if you can catch any curses while he talks words that…that just are making your head all raveled

“I mean I like the way you think. For example your brother shares completely different ideals than you. The others you know, well, their reasons aren’t so in depth.”

You shake your head and try to protest without anger. “No. My reasons aren’t so deep. It’s just normal, what I feel.”

Geto hums. “Exactly,” he says. “The way you think. Not a lot of sorcerers think the way you do, so I find it intriguing.”

Warmth nips at your cheeks, but you fight against any warm feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he adds and surprises you. Well, you knew he was going to apologize, but as he says it now, so genuinely, you can’t help but be surprised. “For upsetting you. If it was while I was with Satoru then I’m even more sorry. It’s not my place to mess with you the way he does.”

It sounds genuine, like he truly means it from the bottom of his heart, but what if that’s what he wants you to believe? And then he’ll do a 160 and once again laugh at you, prove to be the guy you’re making him out to be?

Or he doesn’t and he’s kind, and…your feelings only develop more?

You could try to stop, maybe look at him less, think of his eyes as something dull rather than the pretty and dark gleaming eyes that are easy to get lost into. You could tell your mind to stop gushing over him, to think of him as simply Satoru’s friend, as a mere comrade—even if for some reason this weird astonishment over him grew since the moment your eyes met….

Fuck.

Damn. Shit. Fuck.

It will be easier to continue and be distant and cold, he is Satoru’s friend after all.

So rather than assuring him that everything is fine, that it’s all forgiven, you simply offer him a small smile. A warm one so he can believe it and you.

“Good,” he says.

You hum and change the subject now to what should’ve been your first priority. “Don’t you find it strange that we have yet to see any curses?” You query as you reach the top of the stairs. “Like at all.”

Geto sighs and looks back at the left hall as you take the right first. “It’s very strange. Considering we can hear them lurking somewhere.”

That only keeps you on edge, you hate that you can hear them, but not see them. And this darkness that fills every inch of this hall is not helping ease anything, so you put your palm out and summon fire on your palm so you can see better. And so at least you’re not as scared.

“Smart.” Geto throws a compliment. “Has Shoko asked you to be her lighter yet?”

Without responding verbally at first you just extinguish the flames lit over your palm, and then have the flames race to your fingertips to have the fire now dance over them. “Yes, she has,” you deadpan.

Geto laughs softly, making your lips break into a faint smile. “Well it’s not surprising,” he says.

You shake your head. “Not when it comes from someone who smokes as much as her.” You laugh softly. “Which, I don’t know how she does it. I smoked one and I couldn’t tolerate the taste in my mouth.”

“Well,” Geto sighs. “It’s not that bad.”

You blink and finally take a good look at him as you remember what he has to do after capturing a curse. You can’t even imagine having to tolerate that for the rest of your life…swallowing curses? That must taste horrible, it must leave a bad taste in his mouth every single time. You admire him for it.

“I suppose,” you express softly as you have the fire lit over your palm again so you can see. “I mean I can’t even imagine what swallowing curses must taste like, so I gotta confess, I admire you for that.”

Geto eyes snap over to you to look at you with soft awe. You hold his gaze for a lingering moment before you’re the one that looks away.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You hum as a response and keep yourself busy by looking out. Albeit his soft hand then falls on your wrist and that’s all you can focus on.

“Preserve your energy,” he advises. “This place gives me a bad feeling.”

You slowly look back up at him and do as he says and extinguish the flames, leaving you in the dark again, and robbing you of the sight of him. Now all you have is the knowledge that he’s close, you have the sound of his gentle breathing, and the feeling of his uniform coat brushing against your arm.

And it’s all you need to feel safe.

Albeit you don’t go far because that stench that pollutes this house only smells stronger where you are, so you quickly grab his arm and stop him from getting further. “Smell that?” You whisper.

Geto’s feet shift as he takes a second to take in the smell before responding. “Yeah, I think we’ve found our curses.” Geto proceeds to grab your elbow. “I'm sorry but I need you to give us some light again.”

You hum in comprehension and use your other hand to have flames once again lit over your palm. Now rather than just seeing a bland and empty hall, there in front of you is a thick string that connects to a hatch on the ceiling.

Once Geto sees it he passes you a brief concerned and curious gaze, before he lets go of your arm and slips away from your tight grasp to reach the string.

“Ready?” He asks and passes you a quick glance.

You draw in a deep shaky breath, but nod in agreement as you breathe out. Geto breathes out once himself before he wraps his fingers around the end of the string and then pulls the hatch down, bringing down wooden ladders, and letting out a strong wave of that same pungent smell, and more darkness.

There must be something on top though, so you inch towards the ladders. However, just as you do suddenly sharp shrieks boom out from inside of the attic, before dark and long flying curses that look like bats come rushing out.

First it starts with a couple, before dozens of them come flying out, overwhelming you as they surround you.

“Y/N?” Geto calls out now that you can’t see each other because the bat curses are in the way.

They threaten to bite you with their fangs, to cling onto you with their weird hooked nails, but you quickly rebuttal by using your cursed technique to gather the air around you, the air they create by flapping their messed up wings. You then proceed to twirl it around your body before you form spikes, and have them shoot out from all around you to impale each and every single curse that’s around you.

Once there’s none targeting you anymore you notice that Geto is getting yanked up towards the attic by a weird snake-like curse that has him in its mouth, and you fill with anger at the sight. You don’t even think about how much energy you use. All you know is that you conjure up fire from both of your hands, and create a fierce fire made bird that you use to quickly dart towards the curse.

The fire-made bird sinks its talons in the curse and slices the curses entire body as it darts up, letting Geto slip out of its body.

Before Geto can fall forward though, he claws his hand on the edge of the attic floor, and twists around while you have the fire-made bird drag the curse towards Geto without needing to be told, so that he can absorb the curse. Once the threat is gone, he tries to find balance on the ladders, but his foot slips and he instead falls over you as you’re too concentrated taking back the fire-made bird to realize until it’s too late, and he’s over you.

Yet even if all his weight slamming over you hurts, even if hitting the wooden floor hurt, all you worry about is him. “Are you okay?” You ask him as you grab ahold of his shoulder to try and lean in closer and take a better look at his dark eyes that gleam through shadows.

Geto breathes out, you feel his breath unfurl over your nose. “Yeah. Yeah,” he assures you. “Thank you,” he breathes out and makes no attempt to move off you. Nor do you try anything either—“Are you?” He asks quietly and studies you as best as he can.

“Physically? Yeah. Mentally?” You let out a breathless laugh, and meet his gaze again as he looks back up. “I’m terrified.”

Geto swallows thickly and lets his eyes flicker down, past your eyes. “We better hurry then,” he says.

You hum, and glance down at his lips for a second before you lock eyes again for a few lingering moments more before Geto climbs off you. Not fretting to grab your hand and help you up to your feet.

And once you can see around you again you notice that there’s curses spread out, not gathering around you or Geto.

Yet that doesn’t spare them, Geto doesn’t hesitate to use his technique, basking the hall in bright blue as he exorizes the curses ahead of you. While you spin around and run ahead only a few paces before you slide on your feet as you conjure the air around you towards your hand, and then swing it forward to exorcize all the curses ahead.

Once they’re all gone you get up and turn towards the smell that pollutes the air. “They were weak curses,” you point out and look over at Geto, noticing him swallowing the curses he had just exorcized.

When he’s done he hesitates before he turns. “Yeah,” he agrees and quickly averts his gaze as if ashamed by what he just had to swallow—“At least those bat things were. The one that got me was fast.” He looks up at the attic. “Whatever’s here is strong. We need to hurry and find it.”

How can you tell him that what he did just now is nothing that he should be embarrassed about in front of you? It’s an odd thing, but it’s not something you fear or are disgusted at.

“Come on let's check this out,” Geto points to the attic as he moves to grab the ladders to begin climbing them.

You watch him first, wanting to tell him that you don't mind what he does, no matter how gross he thinks it is. But you don't have the courage, nor do you want to exceed yourself considering the deal you struck with yourself. So you just leave it be and then follow him up the ladders.

Nevertheless just as he pops his head past the gape on the ceiling, he stops moving and freezes, not letting you get over.

“Hey,” you call out. “Is everything okay?”

Geto looks down at you and you notice the disbelief on his face and get frightened. Yet it also intrigues you. “What is it?” You probe cautiously.

“If I simply told you, would you be content with that?” He asks quietly.

He’s speaking so deadpanned, and his eyes are wide with shock, so no matter how curious you are, you don’t want to face the horror that's hidden in that attic.

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Geto swallows thickly before he finally reveals what made him so shocked. “It’s…bodies.”

You feel your body stiffen, and even though you didn't see the atrocity, your breath still hitches.

That would explain the smell…and the curses.

“Is there anymore curses up there?” You ask under your breath.

Geto shakes his head. “I think the ones that were up there are the ones we just exorcized.”

You draw out a deep nervous breath and simply nod in comprehension before you climb back down to the floor.

Now things are starting to connect; the missing people, the curses, this house, the eerie stillness.

“So,” you interject as Geto climbs down. “We’re not dealing with a curse specifically, but a curse user?”

Geto’s feet hit the ground and he doesn’t wait to fold the ladders back up before he answers. “Yeah, that’s my theory too.” He lets go of the string and rubs his forehead with his thumb. “We need to tread lightly and meet up with the others. Dealing with a person like this makes this trickier.”

You nod and proceed to follow him back where you had come from. When you take out your phone to text Satoru though, it says you have no service. “I have no connection here,” you point out and close your phone shut.

Geto groans. “Must be some curse or the damn person jamming our connection. Damn. We can’t even call out, the person might be close.”

You stay quiet and just make sure to stick very close to him as you walk back to the corridor. You still try to cling onto that certain deal of continuing to dislike him, but you can’t seem to actually be able to see it through, especially not now as you continue to tread through this haunting hall, as the thought of death now begins to torment you at thought that a murderer is behind the horrors here.

Yet how can you be afraid? You, a sorcerer with abilities others only dream of, abilities that can kill curses and people alike. How can you be afraid? You, a Gojo who comes from a long line of great sorcerers, fearless ones at that; your own brother is one of those fearless sorcerers, so how can you be scared? Why should you?

“Are you doing okay?” Geto notices the fear, he can’t see your face in this darkness, but he can feel your fear. How great is that?

“Well…” you pause and gnaw on your thumb nail. “I guess I’m a little scared…”

Geto hums. “That’s okay,” he says without hesitation.

You sigh. “Is it?” You counter. “I mean we are sorcerers, we should be fearless.”

“I think if we were fearless we’d be stupid, fear helps us plan out our strategies doesn’t it?” He continues to say. “We try to avoid the danger and come up the safest route out of fear. We fear loss and try to avoid it—”

You cut him off with a breathless laugh. Now you can’t see him, but you hear him take a small breath as he’s hit with confusion that you interrupted.

“It reminds me of something I read,” you explain yourself. “Each day I’m plagued by three doles. These gargantuan weights on my soul: First, that I must somehow exit this fen. Second, that I cannot know when…”

“…And yet it’s the third that torments me so, because there’s no way to know where the hell I will go,” Geto surprises you by finishing the poem along with you.

“I’ve read it,” he adds softly.

You smile at the ground and feel your face burn as you’re completely flustered.

“Fearing loss is normal,” he continues. “But I will not lose you today. Satoru would kill me first of all, and second, well, I just won’t because I don’t want to.”

You smile wider. “Thanks,” you respond and look over at him. Yet through darkness all you see is the gleaming of his eyes already looking at you.

“We’ll have to wait if the person isn’t here won’t we?” You query with disdain.

“Yeah, that is our mission. Get rid of the cause,” he summarizes the objective.

“Which also means checking out every room,” you remind him.

Geto sighs, and rather than continuing towards the colorful natural light that shines through the stained window across the stairs, you turn in opposite directions to search the rooms that come up.

Since the lights don’t fucking work you conjure up fire and walk inside the room. Albeit it just holds a normal bedroom; there’s a bed, a desk, a tv, photos…of a young man with an older creepy looking man, that same young man with other different people in many photos. It makes you wonder if the killer is any of these photos.

“I’ve been meaning to say!” Geto shouts from his room. “I’ve been thinking, and, you can boost up your strength by mixing your technique with hand to hand combat.”

He’s been thinking about you?

“How much do you know?” He asks.

You walk away from the photo wall and walk to a closet and respond back. “Well, a lot but you know I’ve never actually tried using my technique with my hand to hand combat,” you admit as you open the closet doors. “I just can’t find a balance, using my technique takes a lot of concentration, so does fighting, so I just never used it!”

“Ah, well we’ll find you the right balance! I think that your meditation will help too!”

You close the closet doors and ignore your somersaulting heart. He couldn’t have given it this much thought.

“You’d be very powerful when you mix both abilities,” Geto's voice echoes out louder as you now head out of the room.

And when you walk out, he walks out from his room too. “Anything over there?” Geto asks.

You shake your head, “No,” and you finally make out his face thanks to my fire. “How the hell can you see?” You ask teasingly.

Geto shrugs. “I have good senses.”

You giggle. “You could’ve just passed the killer without you knowing. There could’ve been a trap and you wouldn't have a clue.”

Geto scoffs softly. “Well next time I’ll bring you with me then, firefly.”

You grin at him and shake your head at that nickname. “Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“It’s nice. It’s you,” he retorts with a smile. “Literally because your finger lights up before you expel fire. Like a firefly’s ass.”

“Then,” you rebuttal. “I’ll have to call you something in return…” you trail off and tap your bottom lip to think.

“Don’t.”

“Sugar!” You exclaim smugly. “That’s what you’ll be from now on.”

Geto shakes his head with a frown on his face.

You laugh and nod in return. “It’s cute. It’s like your name, Suguru, Sugar.”

Geto turns and walks to the last door on his side, you try to follow to provide light, but he shifts on his feet and goes across the hall.

“You said you were gonna take me with you,” you remind him. “I’m your light.”

“Actually I don’t need you anymore,” he rebuttals.

You scoff. “You started it,” you throw out as you walk back towards the room.

“And I’m ending it. Now look!”

You turn on your heels and open the door, but yell out first. “Whatever you say, Sugar!”

Geto groans in the background, leaving you content and letting you face the room to walk in with the fire still lit over your palm. And to your surprise you come across a room filled of your reflection.

“What the hell?” You muse quietly and slow down your pace as you attempt to walk in deeper. “Cool. Or creepy?” You turn and just see dozens more of your reflection deep in the glass.

It’s just a room full of mirrors. Geto will find this strange too. It must be. You don’t have a good feeling about this room.

Yet just as you part your lips to call out, suddenly the door slams shut, causing you to snap around to face the now closed door.

“Geto?” You call out and walk to the door, but then more mirrors begin to unfold over the door, making the mirrors box you in like a glass box, and causing full blown panic to completely crash into you. “Suguru!”

“Y/N!” Geto calls out and his voice now seems to be outside the room, but you can’t see the door. “What’s wrong? Why is the door locked?”

Music begins to play inside the room, a creepy little tune like one from a music box—

It’s a domain. You’re stuck in a cursed domain.

“I don’t know!” You respond back to Geto. “There’s a bunch of mirrors here! It’s some domain, all I see is me! Help me, please.” You try not to show fear, you try to be strong, but you can’t keep up the brave act.

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” he says back. “I’ll try from out here, but for now, counter attack with the strongest technique you have. You hear me? You got this.”

Yeah, yeah he’s right…he’s right.

You let out a shaky breath and nod even if he can’t see you. “Yeah-yeah.” You step back and open your fist as you begin to summon your fire dragon. He’s still a work in progress, but he’s strong, he can break you out.

However, as your palm begins to glow a bright red from within, your reflection seems to be getting closer, every single one of them.

“Y/N, you still in there?” Geto calls out.

The mirrors are closing in on you as you’re using your technique, fuck, fuck, fuck! You need to do this faster.

“I’m here!” You yell and quickly look down at your arm, seeing how bright red lines begin to slither out towards the rest of your left arm. That causes your tight sleeve to begin to get burnt off as a trace of the fire dragon is drawn around your arm.

Once it’s fully formed you expel it out as big as you can in this clamping room, and overwhelm this dark room with the light of bright flames. Your dragon proceeds to breathe out fire around the perimeter, and that makes every single mirror break into shards that suddenly hurl out at you.

“Y/N?!” You hear Geto yell with panic, but you’re too focused on using air to throw the shards back, to answer back.

There’s only a small amount of air inside this domain, you don’t have a lot to work with, and what you use leaves you short of breath and gasping. Thus only the shards aimed at your head, chest, and face are thrown back. The other glasses stab your limbs and knock you to the ground, making you cry out.

“Y/N!”

And the moment all the shards hit you suddenly everything around you changes, mirrors don’t appear anymore, the room you were once in doesn’t surround you, and your fire dragon is gone due to your lack of concentration. There’s just darkness, you’re surrounded by pure darkness.

“Suguru?!” You call out with tears filling your eyes. You try to stand, but the glass in your flesh hurts so you fall back down. “Suguru?!”

That annoying tune is gone and now a tapping sound coming from behind you fills the void. You try to ignore it and try to conjure fire, you try to use anything, but even if the glass isn't too deep, it still torments you, it weakens you. You can only turn slowly to try and see, hope that it’s Geto or maybe even Satoru.

Yet when you look, it’s no one you know, it’s some woman in a blood stained white wedding kimono and long veil that covers her face.

Is this what trapped you? It has to be, there’s nothing else around you.

Your fire-dragon attack must’ve caused her own attack to activate, leading you here with her just standing there in the distance.

“Will…you…stay…with…me…forever?” The curse asks, letting you figure out what this is, a binding vow.

“Well, well,” a second voice cuts in, making the curse and domain vanish around you, and instead leaving you in some kind of basement, or…dungeon with bad white lighting.

“What did you see?” The voice asks again, this time when you look towards it, you see the same creepy man from the picture. He’s much older now though—“huh?”

You don’t respond, you drag yourself back and drop your gaze to look at a glass stabbed in your leg.

“You’re lucky that you can see them,” the man says as he sharpens the knife in his hand. “I can’t. I can sense a part of them, but I can’t see them.”

You swallow thickly and slowly reach for a piece of glass in your leg as the man continues to speak.

“Which is why you might be curious as to why you’re here.”

You wrap your hand around the glass, and lift your eyes to look over at the man so he won’t suspect anything.

“I use people,” he laughs maniacly. “I kill them for the spirits that live in my house so they don’t torture me.”

So he’s not a curse user then? He’s just plain human?

It could be easier to escape then.

“You,” he continues to blab. “You’re one of those special people, the one who can kill the spirits?”

You don’t respond, you clench your jaw and slowly take a piece of glass out of your leg. The pain is so intense you want to cry out, but you bite your tongue and hold in that scream, letting the man continue to talk.

“You should make for an interesting ghost. A powerful one like the one who asks to stay with her.”

You lift your eyes and look at him, catching him swipe a knife off the counter as he slowly turns to face you. Luckily you already pulled the glass out of your leg, so all he catches is your hand hidden behind your back.

“I wonder,” the man says and begins to walk towards you. “What color do you bleed?”

You swallow thickly and keep dragging yourself back to try and stay away from him as much as you can.

“Let me see the inside of you,” he mutters and shows off a creepy smile.

You scoff and turn away to get on your hands and knees. You don’t say anything, you just try to drag yourself away to lure him close.

When he does get close he grabs your feet to try and pull you back, but you suddenly snap around and swing down on his chest.

Albeit when the glass stabs his chest he just groans before he slaps his hands on your hips and begins to drag you back.

“Let me go!” You bellow and try to kick your leg back, but the glass in your flesh hurts, causing you to stop your attempts and instead groan in complaint.

“Don’t worry I’ll make your last minutes worthwhile?” The man mutters and pulls you back harder.

You cry out and instead of trying to play fair, you focus the rest of your energy on using your technique. He says he can’t see curses, he’s a non-sorcerer so he doesn’t know what to expect, he can’t fight back against your technique, it will be an easy escape.

Thus, you focus on the earth beneath the cement floor to try and raise a piece of it. Albeit just before you break off a piece of earth from in front of you, the man then stabs the glass on your back, making you use your instincts and throw your leg back.

The man yelps and falls back, letting you reach back and pull the glass out of your back through the pain that blinds you and makes you cry out. When the glass is out you throw it to the side and try to drag yourself away, but the pain keeps you paralyzed where you are, leaving you unable to even squirm.

So this was his plan, paralyze you so you’re an easier target.

“Bitch, get back here!” He seethes and slaps his hands around your legs and drags you back towards him. The glass already in your body stabs itself deeper due to the movements, so you can’t find the strength to fight back, you cry out in pain and fall.

“Please,” you try to beg as you dig your fingers in the ground. “I won’t try anything, just let me go! I’ll tell my friends to leave, just please let me go!”

The man scoffs and grabs your arms to flip you around so you can face his creepy face. “As if, you witches are annoying and persistent. They’ll never leave me alone, not unless I kill you.” He chuckles slowly and leans in closer towards you. “I’ll parade your body around so they know I’m strong.”

You throw your hand out to try and use the fire you can summon, but he captures your wrist and then twists it, making the pain heighten.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” You beg with a shaky voice. “Please.”

The man moves his hand to your throat and squeezes hard. “Don’t worry, I’ll make good use of you before your friends get here.” He whispers. “I’ll take the glass off your body, I’m not a monster.”

You meet his gaze and draw back saliva before you spit on his face. “Fuck you.” You bellow out and yank another piece of glass off your body to stab his eye.

The man cries out and stumbles back, letting you push yourself up to your feet to pull out another piece of glass from your body to hit him. However, the man catches your swing and uses his other hand to counter and swing his palm across your face before he then kicks you back to the ground.

“Bitch!” He grimaces and then stomps over to grab a fistful of hair to drag you back towards a cell.

You try to use your technique, but he seems to know, he catches you concentrating so he slams his foot on a piece of glass and weakens you, making you stop your attempts to fight back.

“Now I’ll just kill you in front of your friends,” the man sneers. “I’ll kill you.” He spats and kicks you back. “Using this same glass,” he continues and proceeds to yank out every shard of glass out of your body rapidly, making sure each action hurt, making sure you reacted with a scream every time.

“Please.” You beg again.

Albeit when the man yanks out the last piece of glass, he swings down and stabs your hand but pulls the glass shard out to just leave a gape in your hand.

“There now you won’t use your powers,” the man mutters angrily and begins to walk back out of the cell.

You still try to fight back, but there’s no energy left within you, you’re left weak, defenseless. Your technique already uses a lot of your strength so after all these wounds, after this fear, you’re too weak. You’re useless.

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kaleldobrev · 9 months

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Spitting Image

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You think Dean looks like one of your favorite characters. Dean on the other hand...doesn’t see the resemblance.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Cursing (5x), Insanely minor spoilers for S3 The Boys

Authors Note: I’m sure there’s someone that has done this already, but I wanted to write this because I believe Dean would probably be one of the biggest The Boys fans there ever was | I also just really love Soldier Boy and just need S4 | This is my first time using gifs throughout the fic so let me know if that’s something you like. I mainly did it so if you haven’t seen the show you know what scenes I’m referring to. But you don’t have to watch the show in order to read this | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

When you and Dean first met three years ago, the two of you instantly clicked. It was a strange feeling for Dean at first, because the last time he had felt this kind of instant connection to someone, they turned out to be a siren; and he wasn’t about to fall for that again. Thankfully, because you too were a hunter, you had let him subject you to all the usual tests to prove that you weren’t some kind of monster. Silver, holy water, bearing your non-vampire teeth, and even showing off your anti-possession tattoo; the whole nine yards. Dean subjected himself to the same kind of tests as well, to prove to you that he was not a monster either. You had told him that he didn’t have to, that you believed him when he said that he wasn’t some kind of monster, but he did so anyway, without complaint.

Not only did the two of you share a passion for classic rock, Clint Eastwood movies, bacon cheeseburgers, and classic cars, you also shared a love of a tv show that barely anyone he knew, or you watched: The Boys. One of you, neither of you could really remember which of you had first mentioned it, but as soon as one of you did, it was like a light bulb went off. “Holy shit! You watch it too?” You had said. Not soon after that conversation, the two of you had started dating, which caused you to jokingly ask Dean, “Was me liking The Boys the final test if you were going to date me or not Winchester?” He remembered laughing at your comment. “No, I wanted to date you the moment I laid my eyes on you but, you liking the show did give you bonus points.”

Week One. Today was the day; the first three episodes of The Boys was going to be available to watch today, and you honestly couldn’t be more excited. “This is what I hate about tv shows now. One season is like five episodes, and then when it’s over, you have to wait another two or three years for the next season.” Dean started to complain, but you couldn’t help but agree with him. “Back in my day, you only had to wait like four or six months for the new season. Or, if it was a cartoon, the next week.” Dean continued. His, ‘back in my day’ comments only made you chuckle as you were only a few years younger than he was.

“Well, at least we can enjoy three episodes tonight, and then one each week for the next couple of weeks.” You said, trying to add some kind of positivity to the situation. Once you walked into the bedroom you shut the door behind you and started relying the list of quote-on-quote supplies that you needed for premiere night. “Okay, I got the popcorn, you got the beers. We’re both in our comfy lounging clothes. Is there anything else I’m missing?” You asked, making your way to yours and Dean’s shared bed. Dean was already sitting in bed with the remote in his hand, where he had already placed a beer on each nightstand – one for you and one for him.

As you stood at the side of the bed, Dean turned to look over at you with a small smirk on his lips. “Just for you to bring that ass over here with the popcorn.” Dean winked.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” You replied, giving him a wink back before sitting next to him in bed; both of you sitting with your legs crossed. You placed the popcorn bowl in the middle so the two of you would be able to have easy access. Grabbing the remote that Dean had placed in front of you, you hovered your finger on the play button. “Ready?”

“I’m ready when you are Beautiful.” Dean said – you had never pressed the play button quicker your entire life.

As the two of you were watching the show, there was one scene in particular where you couldn’t help but raise a brow. Without any kind of warning to Dean, you pressed the pause button on a scene that showed a black and white photo of Soldier Boy and a group color photo of Payback. You did a double take just then, looking at the screen and looking at Dean. You couldn’t help but think that Dean looked like a spitting image of the actor that was playing Soldier Boy. After looking at Dean for a second time, he couldn’t help but look at you with a slightly confused, yet annoyed expression on his face. “Y/N, why’d you pause it?” He asked.

“You’re not…you’re not seeing this?” You asked, sounding slightly baffled.

“See what Sweetheart?” He voice sounding a bit more confused now.

You pointed at the screen, as if it should be obvious what he should be looking at. “You look exactly like Soldier Boy.”

Dean turned from looking at you to looking at the screen, eyeing the black and white picture of the man before him. He squinted his eyes, and unsquinted them just as quickly before looking back at you again. “What?”

With an annoyed huff, you got up from your spot on the bed and walked over to the screen so you can point at the picture. “You don’t see it?!” You questioned, amazed that Dean could not see the clear resemblance between him and the actor.

With a sigh, Dean got up from his spot; doing his best to humor you in the moment even though he knew for a fact that there was no way he remotely looked like the character. Getting up close to the screen he stared for a moment, doing his best to focus on the picture. “Nope. I don’t see it. I mean, the dude has a mask on.”

“Dean, that smile, clearly yours. And plus, I think I’ve seen you with a mask on plenty of times to know what you look like with a mask on.” You said. “Two words: Zorro roleplays.”

“I…” As soon as you said that, he looked back at the screen again. “No. I still don’t see it.”

“I honestly don’t know how you’re not seeing it! It’s like looking into a mirror!” Your frustration was starting to show in your voice. You walked back over to the bed and sat back down, Dean following your lead.

“I’m sorry Sweetheart. I’m just not seeing it.” Dean said. “Can we finish watching? We got two more episodes to watch tonight. And we’ve waited like a year and a half for this season.”

“Fine, fine…Soldier Boy.” You whispered the last two words, hoping that Dean didn’t hear you.

Dean’s head snapped to look in your direction. “What?”

“What?” You asked, almost too innocently for his liking.

“Did you…did you just call me Soldier Boy?” The way he asked, you knew for a fact that he had heard you.

You hesitated to answer for a moment. “No…”

Watching episode three was a struggle for you. It was so hard not to picture Dean now in the Soldier Boy scenes because of how much he looked and sounded so much like the actor playing him. “Fuck, you would look so good in that suit.” You whispered, barely audible as you watched a flashback scene taking place about what happened with Soldier Boy and his team when they were in Nicaragua with Grace Mallory.

“Say something Sweetheart?” Dean asked. You could see in your peripheral that Dean had his face looking toward you instead of having his eyes on the screen like you.

“Nope.” You turned to face him. “Why?”

“I thought…” Dean thought for a moment whether or not he was going to comment on what he thought he heard you say. Fuck, you would look so good in that suit. But decided that it would be best to play dumb for now; he didn’t want to bring up the weird argument you guys had during episode one. “Nevermind.”

Week Two. The next week rolled around, and it was time for episode four. “I can’t believe that the season is already halfway over.” You commented.

“Don’t know why they can’t do thirteen episodes like a normal show. None of this eight episodes crap.” Dean complained, doing his best to try and set the show up like you had showed him to do so many times before.

“Alright. As usual, I brought the popcorn, you got the beers, and we’re both in our comfy clothes. Anything else I’m missing?” You walked over to the bed, holding the giant bowl of extra buttered popcorn that Dean had requested.

“You sitting next to me.” Dean winked. “Come bring those soon to be insanely buttered fingers over here.” His comment made you laugh. “What’s so funny Gorgeous?”

You sat on the bed, taking your place next to your boyfriend, and looked at him with absolute awe. “You.” Was all you said before kissing him.

“Oh come on!” You said, pressing the pause button. “He even sounds like you when you sing!”

“What? That sounds nothing like me!” Dean exclaimed.

“Yes, it does. That’s exactly what you sound like when you sing.” You argued back.

“I-I’m not that bad. That guy –” Dean pointed the screen, “that guy sucks!”

“I’ve heard you sing Rapture by Blondie countless times. You sound exactly like that.” Although you had only known Dean for a short amount of time – three years to be exact – you have heard this man sing all the time. More often than you would have thought for someone like him. Between the long car rides, hearing him randomly sing when he’s in the shower or working on Baby; even at karaoke night down at the local bar when he’s had a few too many, you were far too familiar with his singing voice. Your boyfriend couldn’t really sing, but he enjoyed it. He wasn’t horrible, but he wasn’t necessarily the best either.

“I don’t sound like that! That guy right there? Clearly tone deaf.” Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing right now. He knew for a fact that he wasn’t the best singer; he didn’t sing because he was good, he sang because he enjoyed it. “Are you calling me tone deaf?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just saying, I honestly cannot understand how you don’t see or hear that you sound exactly like this guy.” In that moment, you felt an idea hit you. Pointing your finger at Dean you said, “You know what? I’m getting Sam. He’ll agree with me!” Getting out of bed you started making your way toward the door; Dean following close behind you. “Sammy!” You called out once opening the door.

“Y/N! No! We’re not getting Sam involved.” Dean said, a hint of frustration and slight annoyance in his voice.

You stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, turning around to face Dean who you almost collided with. “Cause you know I’m right!”

“What? No! I didn’t say that!” He pinched the bridge of his nose; there was a small part of him that didn’t believe that he was having this kind of quote-on- quote argument with you.

“Sammy!” You called again, practically marching your way down the hallway.

Sam came out of his room, which was pitch black; the only hint of light was coming from the flashing lights of the tv in his room. “Y/N? Everything okay?” Sam asked, partially stepping out of his bedroom.

“Okay. Me and Dean need a debate settled.” You began. “There’s this character on The Boys called Solider Boy and I honestly think he a spitting image of Dean. Even sounds like him. But Dean, can’t see it or hear it.”

“I think she’s wrong. Clearly.” Dean chimed in.

Sam looked at the two of you, almost in disbelief. He didn’t know what he was really expecting to be honest, you and Dean had gotten into all sorts of debates since you two have known each other; some of them more ridiculous than the previous one. In some ways, it almost reminded him of some of the debates him and Dean would get into. They were slightly childish, but also weirdly passionate when it came to their side of the argument. “Alright.” Sam rubbed his face. “Show me what you’re talking about.”

Back in yours and Dean’s room you had episodes three and four pulled up: the flashback scene that had quite a bit of Soldier Boy lines, and episode four where he sang Rapture. After the three of you watched both parts – Dean rolling his eyes 90% of the time; you turned to Sam waiting to hear him hopefully agreeing with you. “I mean…” Sam looked at the scene that you were paused on and looked at Dean and then back at the screen. “Kinda. Like, if you squint.” Sam finally said.

“Ha! I win!” You slapped the sides of your legs as Dean said that. His reaction about what you were expecting.

“No! No! He said if you squint! That’s different than a flat-out no.” You argued.

Week Six. It had been a couple of weeks since you and Dean had your weird argument – more like debate – about whether or not he did in fact look like the actor who played Soldier Boy. You were a firm believer that he in fact did, which you thought was a compliment because you had thought that the guy playing him was probably just as attractive as Dean was. But Dean on the other hand, was of the opinion that he did not look or sound remotely like the guy and could not believe that you could even compare the two. “It’s like comparing apples to rifles.” Dean had told you. “Dean, that doesn’t even make any sense.” You replied. “Exactly my point.” He said.

After the first couple of episodes, you had decided that it was best to not bring up the debate again, knowing that the two of you would never agree. It wasn’t the end of the world of course, but there was a part of you that still could not believe that Dean couldn’t see it. Even Sam; who you really thought was going to agree with you, really didn’t. You had thought that if anyone would agree with you, it would be him.

You were currently in the Bunker kitchen with your back leaning against the counter waiting for the popcorn to be done. You were doing your usual weekly routine where you were the one that made the popcorn and Dean was the one that gathered the beers for the two of you. As you were watching the seconds count down on the microwave you heard heavy boot steps coming into the kitchen; full well knowing that it was Dean. You had been living with the man long enough to know exactly what his footsteps had sounded like, and you were also aware that you and Dean had the Bunker all to yourselves tonight. What made it slightly strange though, is that his boots didn’t sound like the ones that he normally wore. “I was thinking, after we finish the finale tonight, we could go for a nice long walk.” You said as the microwave beeped. Taking the popcorn out of the microwave you turned to see Dean; your jaw dropping. “Son of a bitch. Where did you…How did you…” In front of you, Dean was in full Soldier Boy costume – minus the mask; you were impressed that he even had the shield.

“Uh, Charlie.” He almost seemed embarrassed. “I uh, I called her up a few weeks ago.” He walked into the kitchen more so he was now on the other side of the counter that you were currently behind.

“You…you asked Charlie to get you a…Soldier Boy costume…?” For one of the first times in your life you were utterly speechless. You and Dean had roleplayed before and have seen each other in some…interesting costumes, but for you, this took the cake, especially since you knew Dean thought he looked nothing like the man. You wondered what had changed his mind, or even if he did change his mind, and was just doing this to appease you.

Dean let out a small, slightly embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah.” He put the shield down on the counter. “I asked her to get it for me. Mainly…Mainly for you.” He mumbled the last couple of words, but they were still loud enough for you to hear. Your face lit up a bit at his comment. Even though he really disagreed with you that he looked nothing like the man, that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge you in your fantasy; considering you have done that plenty of times for him, and well…he did have to agree with you on one thing: he did look pretty good in the costume.

“Well, I uh…” You walked around the counter and stood in front of Dean, placing your hand on his chest. “I’m definitely gonna have to send her a fruit basket cause…fuck.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You wouldn’t…You wouldn’t want to roleplay would you?”

Dean smirked, clicking his tongue. “Would I have to wear the costume the whole time?”

“Only for a bit.” You smiled.

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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plutoccult · 3 months

Text

HAIKYUU X THE OFFICE AU — EPISODE SIX: SUGA’S GOT A SECRET

pairing: sugawara koushi x female reader

description: now that ukai knows of sugawara’s feelings for you, it’s only a matter of time before the big secret spreads throughout the office, leaving sugawara with plenty of damage control to do.

word count: 6.3k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: tumblr keeps playing games when it comes to this au showing up in tags, which may be because of “foul” language apparently, so i’m gonna “censor” this episode and see what happens. it will be uncensored on ao3 though. if you missed episode five, IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU READ IT. it’s INSANELY annoying how tumblr keeps messing with me, and that’s honestly why i (along with literally every writer on here) press about reblogs. likes don’t do anything, reblogs do. not to sound like a pain in the ass, but how can you expect your favorite authors to feel inclined to write if you’re not helping them get exposure? anyway… i feel really good about this episode creativity wise (as i reworked the original episode a TON), and think it might be one of the better episodes i’ve written along with next week’s valentine’s episode. i hope you enjoy!

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @femme-lune @jeanboyjean @cowgirlikets @okkoiktoru @darthferbert @kazuchaos @bakagun1312 @beingbrokenfitsus @mumblepingu @daedaep69 @intheewrld @msbyomimi @sukxma @akari-fujikawa @milkteeboba @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten

taglist form here

for the second time today, you returned to your desk with your teapot full of hot water. it was scorching against your hands, but you had to be careful with your steps in order to avoid any spills. you’ve been doing this practically everyday since the office christmas party, so none of your coworkers were phased by it anymore.

“hot, hot, hot.” you whisper to yourself.

you place the teapot down and let out a sigh of relief before sitting down in your chair. the crew watched as you pour the hot water into a mug and pulled out a dish full of sugar of creamer packets, ones you recently acquired so you could be more efficient with your tea. it wasn’t necessarily the excitement the documentary was hoping for, but they kept the cameras on you in anticipation for something with suga to hopefully come up. unfortunately, nothing spicy had occurred.

you stirred everything together before taking a sip, letting out an “ah, that’s the stuff.”

•••

“i’ve been loving the teapot suga got me for christmas.” you say with a grin. “it gives me an excuse to drink more tea rather than coffee at the office, and not the kind you spill, if you catch my drift.”

you give a wink to the camera, but there might as well be crickets as none of the documentary crew laughed at your joke.

“none of you found that funny?” you pout.

•••

out of nowhere, daichi huffed and puffed as he emerged from the break room. “ugh, who in god’s name spilled coffee in the break room and didn’t clean it up?”

not again, you think to yourself. there was always someone leaving a mess somewhere in the office. it was like working with a bunch of children most of the time. you could almost always point your finger on who was to blame, but it’s not like anyone would admit their wrongs, like tanaka, who was responsible for most messes in the office.

“wasn’t me.” he immediately objected. you almost wonder if he spoke up first on purpose so the suspicion would go to someone else.

“you know i don’t drink coffee.” tsukishima said, which was true. you would find him always drinking some sort of strawberry soda, which you tried once and swore it was the most disgusting drink you ever tasted.

“yeah, and y/n has just been drinking tea lately.” suga spoke up. he immediately regretted saying anything as tsukishima, yamaguchi, kiyoko, yachi, and tanaka all collectively eyed each other. his cover was slipping terribly, but suga couldn’t help but feel the need to defend your honor.

“well, whoever did it needs to clean it up because i’m not doing it.” daichi crossed his arms.

“you know no one is gonna fess up, daichi.” tsukishima rolled his eyes. “this happens every time.”

“and i’m not gonna be stuck with the mess again!” he whined. “it’s like how you all expect asahi to reach everything on the top shelf when we invested in stepladders for a reason. those things weren’t cheap.”

the camera panned over to asahi as everyone quickly turned their heads to look at him. “why… why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“well, some of our coworkers happen to be leprechauns, you know.” kageyama said, evoking gasps out of hinata and nishinoya.

“oh, that’s not—” you began to say before covering your mouth with your hand. it was best if you kept out of this one.

“kageyama, that’s offensive to short people!” hinata exclaimed with a pout. “after everything we’ve been through…”

“my point still stands.” kageyama shrugged.

before hinata and kageyama could break out into a fight for the umpteenth time—one where tanaka would definitely yell out “world star!” and pull out his phone to record—ukai came out of his office in order to investigate what his employees were arguing about rather than actually working.

“something the matter? what’s with all the chatter?” he asked, immediately recognizing his clever rhyme. “oh, i rhymed! that’s bars right there.”

“someone spilled coffee on the floor in the break room and left it there.” daichi explained to him. “as if this office needs any more mess, it’s a disaster around here. we need to do something about the cleanliness of our work environment.”

“hmm… let me think.” ukai stood there pondering for a minute, resembling the thinker. some of you wondered if he was posing that way just for the sake of striking a pose. it definitely wouldn’t be a surprise if he was.

“uh, hello? earth to ukai?” daichi waved his hand in front of ukai, thinking he was frozen.

“i’m thinking.” he muttered, trying to stay as still as possible, down to barely moving his mouth. yeah, he was posing just to pose. typical.

everyone continued to wait for ukai to suggest literally anything, but he stayed in his position for far too long. thankfully, yamaguchi decided to speak up, but he would quickly be shut down by ukai.

“why don’t we all just clean the whole office together—”

“let’s all just clean the whole office together!” ukai interrupted yamaguchi, taking all the credit. “yes!”

“i just said that…” yamaguchi frowned.

“it’s spring cleaning, baby!” ukai clasped his hands together.

“but it’s not even spring?” tanaka questioned. he should know better than to question his boss at this point.

“so? who cares?” ukai shrugged. “don’t make me assign you to cleaning the men’s room.”

“no, please! anything but that!” tanaka begged. ukai instantly found joy in this, giving the camera a sinister, yet also off-putting stare.

•••

“i’m such a genius. if you do your spring cleaning in the winter, then you won’t have to do anything in the spring!” ukai said, praising himself as if it were his idea. “only i could think of such big brained ideas.”

“yamaguchi suggested it before you spoke over him.” a crew member spoke up, having documented it on camera.

“who?” ukai furrowed his eyebrows. it was almost hilarious how he couldn’t remember who he was.

•••

while some were assigned to clean certain parts of the office, others were cleaning out their desks, which everyone was mandated to do today. it seemed like “spring” cleaning wasn’t such a bad idea after all as many found random miscellaneous items, having no idea when they were from. tanaka even discovered why his desk had such an odd odor, which was because of an expired donut. everyone gagged at the sight and smell of it as he chucked it in a trash can and ran off.

as you were cleaning out your drawers, yachi walked up to your desk with a bottle of carpet cleaner and a scrubbing brush.

“hey, y/n. here’s that carpet cleaner you asked for.” she said as she placed it down on your desk.

you look up from what you’re doing and see yachi right in front of you. you had been waiting for your chance to use it as there were limited resources to share. thankfully yachi agreed to give it to you after she was done with it.

“oh my god, thank you.” you let out a sigh of relief. “daichi would flip if he saw the coffee stains under my desk.”

“trust me, i know… we’re desk buddies.” yachi groaned. she wasn’t particularly fond of the seating arrangement around here. at least you had your own little space, one where suga could steal pining glances as much as he desired, which reminded her. “how’s wedding planning going, by the way? did you start yet?”

the initial excitement of finally setting a wedding date sent you into overdrive, your mind racing of all the things that needed to be done to prepare for a wedding. as much as you dreamed of this, you didn’t think you’d be stuck doing all of the planning alone. ryo hadn’t made a single contribution yet, and despite your families expecting you to walk down the aisle, some doubts couldn’t help but brew up in your head.

“oh, uh, i bought my veil recently.” you reply. you hadn’t even picked a dress yet, despite having a long way to go, but picking a veil just seemed easier for right now.

“aw, that’s so exciting!” yachi couldn’t help but feel bad that suga was overhearing this conversation, given his eyes were fixated on you as he waited for you to speak, which wasn’t that hard to notice. “how are you gonna do your hair then?”

“well, i was thinking about wearing it down. kind of like—” you take out your hair clip and let your hair down, fluffing it up a bit to show yachi. “—maybe something like this?”

suga felt his heart still for a moment as he intently watched you fiddle with your hair. he wished he’d seen you like this before as you always wore your hair up at work. why were you hiding such beauty? it pained him to think about ryo always being the one to see your hair untamed like this at home. even if you failed to realize it, you were drop dead gorgeous in suga’s eyes.

“wow, you look so beautiful. you’re gonna make people cry.” yachi said, already able to think of one person without hesitation.

as yachi spoke a little too loud, ukai—being the nosy boss he is—overheard your conversation and decided to butt in. with poor timing, at that. “woah, y/n. why don't you wear your hair like that all the time? it's so much hotter than what you usually do.”

you cringe and roll your eyes as you reach for your hair clip. suga let out a sigh, wanting the savor the sight for a little longer. maybe another time, he hoped.

“man, this must be torture for you.” ukai said as he walked past suga. suga’s eyes widen as he looked around to see if anyone overheard that, and thankfully no one did. everyone was too occupied with cleaning to bother, it seemed.

•••

“yeah, on the booze cruise i told ukai about some feelings i used to have for y/n.” suga explained, albeit poorly. “i was just… feeling nostalgic, i guess, and i decided to confide in the world's worst confidant.”

used to have? even the documentary crew could see right through such a pathetic lie.

•••

later that day, suga knocked on ukai’s office door. as expected, he wasn’t cleaning his office one bit. do as ukai says, not as ukai does, apparently. it wasn’t a shock, to be honest.

“hey, ukai.” suga said as he entered ukai’s office. ukai quickly turned down the volume on his computer—seemingly not doing any productive office work either—and looked up to see what suga wanted. “remember that thing i told you on the booze cruise about y/n?”

“boy, do i?” ukai asked. he had been reeling ever since the bombshell was revealed to him. it was more exciting than the lame reality tv he usually watched at home. “of course i do.”

“well, that was, uh, pretty personal, so if you can just…” suga paused. how could he make this sound the least offensive to his boss? “if you can make sure you don’t tell anyone else about it, that would be great.”

“what? oh yeah, my lips are sealed. like the bangles song.” ukai said.

suga furrowed his eyebrows. he didn’t feel confident in that answer. “that was the go-go’s.”

“just get back to cleaning.” ukai scoffed.

“you got it.” suga nodded. it seemed he just had to take ukai’s word for it, but some worry still lingered.

•••

“suga and i are great friends. we hang out a ton, mostly at work, but the fact that he poured his heart out to me about y/n during booze cruise says everything about our friendship.” ukai said. “and because of that, i intend on keeping that information a secret for as long as i possibly can.”

“are you implying that it will spill out eventually?”

“course not. i’m the best at keeping secrets.” ukai then started to sweat profusely. he cannot keep this secret for long. “is it hot in here all of the sudden?”

•••

while suga was cleaning his desk, ukai emerged from his office with what seemed like the sole purpose of bothering him. his careful tiptoeing towards suga was evident, even if he tried to be sneaky. “suga…”

“yeah, ukai?” he looked up, ruining ukai’s opportunity to potentially scare him.

“whatcha doin’?” ukai asked. “you like football?”

“uh, ya know, cleaning. like you asked me to.” suga deadpanned. “plus, i’m more of a volleyball guy.”

“oh, yeah, makes sense.” ukai said before getting to the real point of this conversation. “so, any news on you know who?”

suga initially wondered why ukai would be bothering him like this, especially in the middle of the day, but now it was painfully obvious. of course it would be about you, but here, right on the open floor? it’s like ukai was asking to publicly embarrass suga. the poor lad had been through enough embarrassment these past few months. the documentary has seemingly only made it worse.

“time and place, ukai.” suga shook his head in annoyance.

“i just want to know more about your love life, suga.” ukai pouted. of course, he had some valid concerns. suga was just crying to him about his dilemma not that long ago, after all, but still, why here and now?

“like i said; time and place.” suga insisted.

“but—”

before ukai could plead his case, tanaka interrupted this conversation, seemingly out of jealousy over ukai newfound closeness to suga. “woah, what’s going on here? you guys besties all of the sudden?”

“um, yeah, we’re besties, tanaka.” ukai replied. suga wanted and scream and say that he was wrong. they would never be besties, never. “we tell each other secrets and stuff.”

“secrets? what secrets?” tanaka raised an eyebrow with a smirk. he instantly thought of one secret only a select few knew of, and suga knew he’d be thinking of it. “i know secrets.”

suga had to get tanaka off his back somehow. the combo and him and ukai would be a total disaster when it came to his secret. “deep, dark secrets?”

“wha… what do you mean?” tanaka questioned. it was hilarious how he was falling for this.

“oh, you know…” suga paused for dramatic effect. “the kind of secrets that could send people to jail.”

“oh my god…” tanaka let out a gasp then ran off like a scaredy cat. maybe that award went to the wrong employee on awards night.

that actually impressed ukai quite a bit. he wouldn’t say it out loud as he always had to be the very best, but ukai was definitely impressed.

“welp, back to work.” suga shrugged. this desk definitely wouldn’t clean itself, and he wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone else to go through his things. maybe he could trust you. knowing you, you’d organize everything by what you thought was worth keeping and what wasn’t, then let him figure out if your guesses were right.

“hey, uh, wait.” ukai said, catching suga’s attention once more. “what are you doing for lunch? i could take you out. my treat.”

lunch? with ukai? suga wasn’t sure if he was all too fond out that idea. free food, sure, but having to deal with ukai alone at a restaurant seemed like a bad nightmare. you never know what could happen in such an event.

“ah, no, you don’t gotta do that.” suga said as he quickly tried to think of an excuse to get out of this. “i gotta… ya know… clean and stuff.”

“what about we set up a picnic in the break room?” ukai proposed. “order some pizza and talk about you know who.”

nope. nope, nope, nope. suga knew ukai was just itching to talk about you. the only feasible solution was to get as far away from the office as possible and go out for stupid lunch. the sacrifices suga had to make for the sake of keeping his secret, well, a secret.

“haha, um… you know what? yeah, let’s go out. that’s a good idea, man.” suga stood up from his chair. ukai jumped up and down, overjoyed, which brought more attention to them. suga figured going right now was the best bet, so he quickly grabbed his coat and briefcase in order to leave right away. “let’s go now, actually. what place you thinking of?”

“oh, i know just the place.”

•••

after an awkward drive, ukai and suga found parking in the city before walking over to a popular strip of restaurants. suga assumed being a boss had its perks as there was no way he could afford to eat like this all the time. thank god ukai was paying for this.

there seemed to be amazing places to eat around here, but suga found ukai leading him to the outside of what seemed like a… maid cafe?!

“ukai, what is this place?” suga asked, hoping and praying it wasn’t what he thought it was.

“it’s my favorite spot.” ukai said, noticing suga hesitate. “i go here all the time. come on.”

“if it’s what i think it is—”

“it’ll be fine!” he interrupted suga. “don’t be shy now.”

suga let out a sigh before he followed ukai inside. it was exactly what he thought it was. he was at a maid cafe.

“no… no, no, no.” suga shook his head. this couldn’t be happening to him right now.

suddenly, a pretty woman in a maid outfit walked up to them, greeting ukai first as he was a regular. “mr. ukai! come, come have a seat wherever you’d like.”

“sana!” ukai greeted her. it was even worse that he knew the employees by name.

“there’s no way…”

•••

“ukai took me to a maid cafe.” suga said through gritted teeth. he was being interviewed outside the cafe, other cameras filming what was going on inside as ukai was being pampered by the waitresses. suga was lucky to have a chance to rant. “he took me to a F*CKING maid cafe.”

“you know you’re—”

“god, i’m tired of you guys scolding us over language. you’re just gonna cut most of this sh*t out in post anyway.” he cut off the crew member. he wasn’t necessarily wrong, but the poor editors had a lot of work cut out for them with the way the employees of japan pulp and paper act. maybe they were better off documenting another branch…

•••

meanwhile at the office, tanaka walked up to your desk unannounced, digging his fingers into the bowl of jellybeans you always had out for everyone. you don’t even wanna know where his hands have been. now that you think about it, does he ever wash his hands? you wanted to gag.

“tanaka, can you not shove your hands in the bowl like that?” you ask with a disgusted look on your face.

“whatever. all the good flavored ones are gone.” tanaka rolled his eyes as he continued to dig into the bowl.

“it’s a communal bowl…” you sigh.

“am i not bestie material?” he asked you out of nowhere. “i thought me and ukai were besties.”

you weren’t sure why he was asking this all of the sudden, but if validating him meant he’d leave you alone, then you’ll do it. “yeah, you’re bestie material, tanaka…”

“would you ever consider me to be your best friend?” tanaka questioned.

now, tanaka was a terrible worker, but he wasn’t necessarily a bad friend. he would definitely do crazy things for the sake of his coworkers. you remember on your first day tanaka told you he kept ninja stars under his desk incase of intruders and he would defend you in an instant. sometimes he was a little dumb, but he had a good heart, shockingly enough.

“sure?” you shrug.

“excellent.” tanaka said before walking away all of the sudden.

while he wasn’t looking, you quickly grab the jellybean bowl and throw away its contents. you stare at the camera for a moment as they’ve captured what you’ve done before panning to ukai and suga returning from lunch. you instantly smile upon seeing suga’s face.

“hey.” you greet him.

“hey.” suga said as he hung his coat up.

ukai eyed the two of you before going into his office. you wondered what that was about, but you shook it off and went back to talking to suga. “so, how was lunch?”

“oh, you know, pretty productive.” suga then held up a printed picture from lunch, one with him, ukai, and a bunch of waitresses in maid outfits posing together. it was worth the money. “got a lot of work done.”

you blink for a moment as you soak in the picture in front of you. never would you have guessed that out of all places. still, it was hilarious.

“you’re the worst.” you say jokingly. “there’s no way.”

“ah, but there is.” suga replied. he blushed as you began to uncontrollably laugh. it was adorable. he found it to be one of his favorite sounds in the world.

you manage to control your laughter after a few deep breaths. no more joking around. “pretty sure you’ve got more cleaning to do.”

“yes, ma’am.” he jokingly saluted before going back to his desk.

suddenly, kiyoko stormed up to ukai’s office. you couldn’t remember the last time anyone ever saw her so angry like this. you even feared steam would come out of her ears, and since she was knocking on ukai’s door, you knew it wasn’t anything good.

“ukai, takeda and i need to talk to you.” she barged in.

ukai raised his hands defensively, acting as if he were getting arrested. “i didn’t do it, your honor!”

“what?”

“…what?”

kiyoko didn’t have time for nonsense. she was livid. “ugh, come on. you’ve got some explaining to do.”

before ukai could try to protest, kiyoko dragged him away from his desk and led him to takeda, the last person ukai wanted to talk to right now. it didn’t matter what the matter was, he hated talking to human resources.

“specs, what do you have the female specs dragging me here for?” ukai groaned as kiyoko forced him to have a seat.

“uh, a new charge appeared on the corporate credit card—” takeda began to say as calmly as possible.

“you spent a hundred bucks at a maid cafe! you didn’t even get approval for this!” kiyoko interrupted him, yelling over takeda. if there was any good cop, bad cop action happening, it was clear who fit which role.

“it was a business lunch!” ukai argued. “who said i needed approval?”

takeda let out a sigh. there was a reason ukai couldn’t be trusted with anyone’s money, even his own, for that matter. he felt like he had to treat him like a child, despite ukai being the one in charge.

“ukai, you just got your corporate credit card back.” takeda scolded him. “do you really want me to take it away again?”

“what am i, a five year old? this is ridiculous!” ukai exclaimed.

“corporate is gonna be so angry!” kiyoko argued with him.

“look, suga needed a relaxing lunch.” ukai explained. “he’s been depressed and it’s been affecting his productivity. how is that not work related?”

kiyoko froze. now she’s wondering if ukai knows what she knows. does he know what she knows? takeda didn’t seem to budge by ukai’s explanation.

“he seems fine to me.” takeda shrugged.

“you're not his friend, you don't know what i know.” ukai said. “he is in love with a girl he works with who's engaged, so just cut me some slack, okay?”

unbeknownst to them, nishinoya overheard the whole thing as he walked by. “are you talking about y/n?”

no way that just happened. ukai is at a loss for words, same with kiyoko. he messed up big time.

•••

“this is bad. so bad.” kiyoko said frantically to the camera. it was safe to say she was freaking out. “did suga tell ukai? or did he figure it out? god, suga! you’re such an idiot! i can’t stand this madness!”

•••

thanks to ukai’s big fat mouth, suga’s secret had spread throughout the entire office like the plague and he had yet to figure it out, but he would soon enough.

the first person nishinoya told was asahi, who didn’t really have much of an opinion on it as he was merely a temp. once word got to hinata, however, that was when the train really started rolling. suga had no chance to swear nishinoya to secrecy, so his secret was finally spilled to everyone. well, everyone except you… for now.

hinata rushed to kageyama’s desk. had he gone any faster, he would’ve crashed and knocked over all of kageyama’s things, even his computer. it certainly wouldn’t be fun having to pay for a new one.

“jesus, hinata!” kageyama jumped out of his chair. “what are you tryin’ to do to me?!”

“nothing, nothing!” hinata exclaimed. “guess what? suga has got it bad for y/n.”

woah. even kageyama couldn’t pass up hearing such juicy information. he was rather impressed in suga’s taste in women too. you were a rather attractive woman, after all. “what? really? not bad, suga. not bad…”

ukai walked by as hinata spilled all the beans to kageyama. as hinata noticed ukai’s presence, he just had to get his opinion on the matter. after all, it was ukai’s fault the secret was revealed to everyone.

“hey, ukai. do you think suga is gonna try to break up the wedding?” hinata asked.

ukai was put off by such an outlandish question. he felt so guilty about this, as shocking as it was. suga actually put his trust in him, and he blew it in less than a week. some boss he was.

“hinata, suga is my friend, so the only people that this crush really concerns is suga and y/n...” ukai said. “and also me.”

of course, ukai had to make some of this situation about him. no surprise about that.

as suga tried to get some cleaning done, he felt as if there were more cameras on him than usual. to test the theory, he got up to go to the bathroom. the crew dared to follow him, but suga stopped before entering. there was no way he could let them film him doing his business.

“did the production value go up or something?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “what’s going on?”

before the crew could respond, nishinoya appeared, asking suga the last question he thought he’d have to hear. “suga, why didn’t you tell me you had a crush on y/n?”

his heart dropped instantly. it’s happening.

•••

suga had to carry out this interview in the calmest way possible. he was livid, sure, but there also was a bit of relief. the burden of his secret was so hard to carry most days. but the only way he could make it out of this alive is if he played it off like he used to have a crush on you.

“well, the cat’s out of the bag. i used to have a crush on y/n and now i, uh…” suga hesitated. “don’t. how thrilling...”

the poorly fabricated lies continued.

•••

now that suga got that dreadful interview was over with, it was time for him to talk to you about the newfound elephant in the room. as he discovered everyone was talking about this crush behind your back, suga decided he was better off confronting you about it. besides, it was either you find out through suga himself or ukai.

suga found you alone, knowing this was the only time and place he could get through this conversation. he didn’t need anyone else hearing in on this.

“hey.” suga spoke up. you look up and see his face, your calming smile putting him at ease.

“hey.” you say. “did you find anything good in your desk?”

“oh yeah, i found a coupon for a free sandwich.” he said. there had to be a way to bring up his crush somehow. “it expired in august, but i did find my phone charger from two years ago.“

“wow, big day.” you reply. big day was quite the understatement.

“i don’t even have that phone anymore.” suga chuckled.

“even better.” you grin.

“yeah.” he blushed.

thinking that was the end of the conversation, you began to leave the room, but suga quickly stopped you. this was his only chance, he couldn’t let it slip away.

“hey, uh, listen…” suga said as you stop in your tracks. you look up to see what he has to say. shockingly, this was harder than he thought it would be. “um, i told ukai on the booze cruise—it’s so stupid—but uh, i told ukai that i had a crush on you when i first started here.”

you felt your heart skip a beat. he had a crush on you when he first started here? now your mind raced back to suga’s first day at japan pulp and paper. he seemed so nervous, so you were the one to welcome him with open arms as you had only been with the company for less than a year at that point. you knew what it was like to be the newbie, so you wanted suga to feel more at ease. you didn’t think anything more of your kindness back then.

“oh…” is all you manage to muster out. you can’t believe you were so blind to it all. now you felt silly for only just now developing a crush on him within the past couple months. it was wrong on so many levels now.

“well, i thought that, uh.” he stumbled with his words. “i figured you should hear it from me rather than, you know, ukai of all people…”

“right…” you nod. even you could agree with that. that would result in a much more awkward interaction with your boss.

“and seriously, it's totally not a big deal, okay?” suga insisted. “and when i found out you were engaged, i mean, you know…”

right, of course. that cursed ring on your finger. no wonder he didn’t see you that way anymore, right? at least that’s what you thought was the case.

“no, yeah, i get it. i mean, i kind of…” you pause. lie, just lie, you thought to yourself. “i thought that maybe you did when you first started.”

“oh, you did?” suga questioned. now he felt a little stupid.

“well, i mean, just cause we got along really quickly…” you shrug. it was the best excuse you could think of on the spot, really. you clicked with suga faster than you did with anyone else. maybe there was a reason to that, now that you think about it.

“oh, so you saw right through me, great.” he forced a laugh.

“yeah.” you giggle. you were thankful suga fell for your sham, him feeling the same. “so are you going to be like totally awkward around me now?”

“oh, yeah, yeah... hope that's okay.” suga replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“mhm.” you nod.

“and y/n?“

“yeah?”

“it was like three years ago, so i am totally over it.” suga said. even if he was far from over it, he had to lie for the sake of saving face. he didn’t want to give up since ukai told him not to, but suga couldn’t let you know the truth just yet. this was merely dipping his toes in the water.

“yeah, cool.” you say before finally leaving the room. suga figured he kept you for far too long, anyways.

“alright, cool…”

•••

“so… suga had a crush on me, huh? emphasis on had, i guess.” you shrug. “more reason to move on from my own silly crush, right?”

the crew share a collective look. you wonder what they’re all thinking. was there something you still didn’t know?

“right..?”

•••

suga was thankful his conversation with you went rather smoothly. all he had to anticipate now was ukai’s explanation for the mess that’s been made. who knows what ukai will manage to do, he was so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time.

ukai jumped when he heard suga knock, even worse when he saw his face. he knew exactly what this was about, so ukai had no choice but to motion for him to come in.

“hey.” suga said, closing the door behind him. no way could anyone else hear this right now. suga would lock the door and board it up if it had to.

“i know, i know, i know.” ukai sighed. “i messed up.”

it was actually a surprise to suga that he was owning up to his mistake. he figured he should go a little easy on ukai for the time being, depending on his future responses. “yeah, i was kinda wondering what happened with that…”

“i um… you know, expense reports.” ukai said, frantically trying to explain his way through this. “and then stupid specs! he’s such a goody two-shoes, disgusting. he got all on me about our lunch—”

“the one at the maid cafe.” suga interrupted him. the puzzle pieces were coming together.

“yes, the one at the maid cafe! said corporate was gonna be mad about it, and…” ukai began to tear up, not even trying to fight back his emotions. “i ended up spilling the beans! it was an accident, honest! god, i hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, suga!”

wow. and to think suga was just crying to him merely days ago. now the tables have turned. suga didn’t know whether this was sad or hilarious. would it be wrong to think it’s both? he sure thought of it to be both ways.

as much as suga wanted to totally flip out and scream his head off, he just… couldn’t. for one, he’d probably lose his job, but this situation was inevitable. secrets can’t stay secrets forever, no matter how much you want to hold them close. they always make their way out of your grasp somehow.

“hey, hey, hey. relax, man.” suga tried to calm ukai down. “it's… it’s not a big deal.”

ukai wiped away snot and tears, which was quite disgusting. “it’s not?”

“yeah, it’s fine.” suga let out a sigh. “it was bound to come out one way or another, i guess. everything’s gonna be alright, okay?”

“yeah… okay.” ukai nodded. he was thankful to not be on suga’s bad side, which he‘s never seen at its fullest potential. no one has, really. suga is far too patient for this disastrous company.

“good… good.” suga said. “see ya.”

man, ukai was such a violent crier.

as suga left ukai’s office, he eyed you for a moment, seeing you were walking over to where he just was. you would have no choice but to see ukai crying like a toddler, which no one should ever have to see in their entire life.

“good luck.” he quickly whispered to you as you walked past him, confusion written all over your face.

huh?

shrugging off suga’s random comment, you head into ukai’s office anyway, not even bothering to knock as the door was already open just a bit. nothing seemed out of the ordinary to you yet, as if ukai isn’t unordinary anyway.

“hey, here's your schedule for next week.” you set the paper down on ukai’s desk before noticing he’s wiping away tears. “woah, are you okay?”

“yeah, i'm fine.” ukai sniffled. “look, about you and suga—”

“oh no.” you shook your head. was that what he was crying over? woah, did suga make him cry? nice. “ukai, you don't have to—”

“no, i feel like it's my responsibility as your boss and also your friend.” he cut you off, but you didn’t see any need for this. you and suga cleared the air already, right? plus, ukai considering himself your friend was quite a stretch.

“no, really, it's okay.” you insist. “i know that suga had a crush on me when he first started or whatever. but that was a long time ago, so…”

“what? no. it wasn't that long ago. it was on the booze cruise.” ukai said.

what the heck could he possibly be talking about?

“suga had a crush on me on the booze cruise or he told you about it on the booze cruise?” you furrow your eyebrows.

ukai very quickly realized he messed up once again. he figured he was better off shutting up for once in his life. “ahh… yeah… i’m just gonna… shut my mouth. i’m clocking out.”

“oh… okay.” you say quietly as ukai stood up and walked out of his office so he could leave for the day. it was about five o’ clock, after all.

you follow ukai on his way out and see suga packing up, putting his coat on before grabbing his briefcase. he can detect your presence, even when leaning over for his briefcase as he could see your mary jane’s in his vision. black and shiny, just the way they always were. you never, ever left them scuffed.

“you need a minute?” he asked as you walked by.

“yeah, just need to get my coat on.” you reply.

suga waited for you to pack up before you walked out together, both heading towards the elevator. you and suga enter, just the two of you, stealing glances while the other wasn’t looking until your eyes inevitably meet. you can’t even deny how often he makes your heart race, it was almost a nuisance.

you didn’t know how long this song and dance would last, but you needed this feeling to go away before june. it simply can’t go on any longer.

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