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onlyswan · 3 months

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summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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avis-writeshq · 26 days

Text

hello 😘 aaron hotchner drabble request!

anything with jealousy and possessiveness but in a natural normal way not a joe goldberg way haha

and also - aaron sees you wearing his hoodie/shirt drabble!

thank you and your work is amazing!

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily a/n: i wrote it and the more i wrote the more i realised that it... really isn't the same at all :( if you want me to redo it, please send me an ask !! thank you lovely <3 wc: 631

“You would think that he would know by now,” Emily hums, her tone disapproving and mostly disappointed as she watches from a distance as Captain Pembroke attempts to chat you up.

“He’s a captain?” Spencer asks in genuine amazement.

“For NYPD’s major crime unit,” JJ confirms, her arms crossed over her chest. “He tried to hit on Emily a couple days ago, and on Amy from the fourth floor. I wouldn’t be surprised it he has some sort of sealed file on him.”

Emily scoffs a little, rolling her eyes. “Sounds like a charmer.”

“The bigger question is, does Hotch know?” Derek pipes up as he glances in your direction.

“Well…” JJ lets out a nervous laugh. “I kind of hope he doesn’t.”

You offer a curt smile in Pembroke’s direction, doing everything in your power to subtly signal that you really should be leaving. Fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt, averting eye contact, taking tiny steps away in hopes that he’ll somehow get the message. It isn’t surprising that he doesn’t.

“I beat my PR yesterday, you know,” he brags, flexing his muscles. You think you’re about to throw up as he continues, “129. Impressive, right, hun?”

“The average amount of pounds an untrained man can lift is 135,” you respond dismissively in an attempt to lean into Spencer’s way of getting people to leave him alone, but Pembroke doesn’t seem to hear you.

“You know, sweets, I don’t think you should even be in this job. You’re far too foxy,” he says with a wink, “You’d be better in a different job. I mean, women aren’t fit for these types of roles. They get too emotional.”

You refrain from punching his face as it will only prove his point. “Listen, Ken–”

“It’s Keith–”

“Kyle,” you amend with a sickly smile. “I do need to get these files to Agent Rossi, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“Aw, come on, it was only a joke,” Pembroke says with a laugh. “It’ll be fine–”

“There you are.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life. Aaron’s hand rests flat against your back, dangerously close to the waistband of your skirt and he stands behind you. Aaron is a good couple of inches taller than Pembroke, especially when he stands at his full height, his dark eyed narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“Did you need something from my agent, Captain?” He asks lowly.

“Just pleasant conversation,” Pembroke responds dismissively.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from your uncomfortable frown to the captain’s smug face. “We have three missing women and you are disturbing an investigation by disrupting my agents. I suggest you get your act together before I report you to your superiors for harassment.”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, guiding you by the small of your back towards his makeshift office in the New York Police Office. He doesn’t say a word until the door is firmly closed and the blinds are drawn.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, taking a step towards you and curling his fingers by your cheekbone. “I heard what he said. Do you want me to report it?”

“I’ve dealt with worse.” You don’t mean to sound so honest when you say it and his frown deepens.

“That’s not okay, honey.” Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll report it. You know how it is with cases like these; someone just has to put the first step forward.”

You smile at that, poking at his cheeks. “I thought you were going to hit him.”

“I thought you would’ve beat me to it,” he admits through a quiet laugh, giving you a proper kiss. “We shouldn’t make this into a habit.”

“Tell that to Kimberly.”

“That isn’t even close.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader fluff #golden : a milestone event #hotch x reader fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds aaron hotchner #thomas gibson x reader #thomas gibson #thomas gibson fluff #thomas gibson x reader fluff

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sinner-as-saint · 8 months

Text

I loved you in secret

Mob!Bucky x Detective!Reader

Run-through: Your relationship with Bucky was the kind of dangerous secret that could destroy you. But you couldn’t let him go either, he was too addicting. And neither was he willing to let you go, despite all the risks. The city was his playground, and this game of hide and seek you both played was his favourite.

Themes: mob!bucky, smut, fluff, detective!reader, metal arm,

a/n: I missed writing and I missed mob!bucky so here’s a little fic for you ily guys so much muaaahhh

You were immediately on high alert as you left the pub.

The team was celebrating a big case finally getting solved, so a few rounds of drinks was mandatory. But you left just after the second round of drinks because you wanted nothing more than to just get home and take a nice, long bath.

Your apartment complex was a 20-minute walk away from the pub, and the precinct. And the thought of a warm bath made you walk faster through the city.

But you being on high alert meant that something wasn’t right. Your gut was telling you something but you couldn’t figure out what.

Right as you passed a dark alley, a hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into the alley and pressing you against the wall. A cold hand covered your mouth, muffling your scream. You were ready to kick and fight your way out of the man’s tight grip, but that was until you realised who it was, and sagged in relief.

Bucky chuckled, removing his metal hand and uncovering your mouth to let you breathe properly. “Hi babygirl,” He nuzzled your neck as you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, “Missed me?”

His soft lips brushed against your skin as he left kisses all over your neck. “Bucky!” You whisper-yelled. “You can’t just be here, you know that. We talked about this, you can’t be anywhere near this area.” You tried reasoning, but you couldn’t help the gasps and moans that left your mouth as Bucky’s kisses got more and more bitey.

“I know, I know,” He sighed, pulling away to look at you. His handsome face was partially hidden in the shadows, only one of his piercing blue eyes was visible and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, despite knowing that if anyone saw you here in his arms, your career was over instantly. “I needed to see you. I missed you, baby. I was away all week, I couldn’t just sit at home and wait for you, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his. You breathed in his scent and it helped you calm down a little bit. “I know,” You whispered. “You’ve been following me all night, haven’t you?” You asked, already knowing he was what your gut was trying to tell you about.

Bucky smirked, kissing your forehead. “I have. Ever since you left work.” He kissed down your face, along your jaw. “I couldn’t resist,” He whispered, “You know how much I like watching you walk around in your suits,” He chuckled into your ear, hands dropping down to grab your butt for emphasis. “Now, can we go home so I can take it off of you?”

As much as you wanted to go with him right away you said, “You go ahead. I have some stuff I need to grab from my place and then I’ll see you at yours, okay?” You cupped his face as you spoke. He gave you his rare puppy eyes, then groaned.

“Fine. I'll send a car for you. I want you home in less than an hour.” He whispered, playfully biting your lip. “You hear me, detective?” He teased, “Less than one hour.” He repeated.

Everytime he referred to his place as ‘home’, your heart skipped a beat. You smirked, “Yes, sir.” You replied, winking as you pulled away to walk home as fast as you could. “Now get out of here before you get us both in trouble.”

—

As you walked to your apartment, you knew an all black, heavily tinted SUV was following you from a distance. It would’ve freaked you out if you didn’t know that there were just a few of Bucky’s men in the vehicle, ordered to ensure you make it to your apartment safe.

You smiled to yourself as you took the elevator to your floor. Already making a mental list of all the things you needed to pack for the weekend that you would be spending with Bucky. He was gone for the whole week for some ‘work thing’ and you had missed him so much.

You and Bucky couldn’t text or call like normal couples, because the risk of getting caught was too high that way. If any one of his associates or allies found out, you could be in terrible danger. And if any one of your colleagues ever found out, you were done for. So it could only be brief late night phone calls, or messages only a few times in a day.

As you packed, you thought of the day you met Bucky.

A little over a year ago, you were undercover in an infamous club in the more corrupted part of the city. That’s when you caught Bucky’s eye. He walked over to you, flirting shamelessly, constantly asking if he could buy you a drink, asking you to dance, and whatnot.

You had taken your gun out then, and had discreetly pressed it against his side. ‘Leave me alone, or I’ll shoot.’ Bucky had chuckled in that proud way of his, and pulled you closer. ‘You don’t wanna do that, detective. Now leave before I set my guys after you.’

He had known you were a cop in an instant, but he played along.

‘You could always do that, even if I leave. Why would I trust you?’ You’d asked.

He had given you that devilishly handsome smile of his and said, ‘You don’t have a choice, detective. There’s a car waiting for you outside, get it in and go where it takes you. I’ll join you in a while.’

For some reason you had done as he asked, and that’s how you woke up in his bed the next morning after the best night of your life.

And since then, the two of you couldn’t walk away from one another. Your little risky situationship had turned into something so much stronger over the past year, and now you couldn’t imagine life without him.

—

A car was waiting for you downstairs, as always. You got in with your bags and couldn’t wait to get to Bucky’s place. Home, as he called it.

Bucky’s mansion was found on the outskirts of the city, hidden within the rather dense and heavily secured forest. Very few people had access to this place. It felt like it was another world, cut off from the rest. Quiet, luxurious, and private.

The moment you walked in through the huge front doors, you were ambushed. By a pair of muscular arms, and an eager mouth. His relentless kisses had you giggling as you tried to maintain your balance.

“Bucky!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him.

“Fuck,” He growled, hugging you so tightly it hurt. “I missed having you in my arms, detective, you know that?”

You tried to pull away to breathe but he wouldn’t let you. His metal arm tightening extra hard around you. “I’m gonna pass out if you don’t let me go.” You choked out through giggles.

Bucky pulled away, laughing as he grabbed your hand and led you towards the giant staircase. “Come on, we have so much catching up to do.”

—

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom before Bucky got handsy. He pushed you up against the nearest wall and undid the buttons of your shirt

“I missed you, babygirl…” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you hard. His hands slid your shirt down your shoulders, dropping it on the ground before he began undoing your pants as well. “I need you,” He breathed.

“Bed,” Was all you could mumble in your lust-drunk haze.

Bucky dragged you to his bedroom, stopping a few times on your way there to kiss you or get rid of an article of clothing.

By the time you both made it to his large bed, you were both naked and starved for one another.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered as he laid you down on his bed, hovering above you. “Look at you…” he leaned down to kiss your neck, “You’re fucking perfect, aren’t you, babygirl?”

You arched your back, pressing up against him and he nibbled on your skin before pulling away to look down at you. His stare was intense, fiery, eyes darkening with lust. His voice was deeper than usual as he said, “I love you so fucking much.”

You smiled up at him, running your hands all over his back, shoulders, fingers running through his hair. You were starving, breathless, and trapped between his strong body. “And I love you, Buck.”

He leaned down again, kissing you even more ferociously. “I’ve been dreaming of having you here with me, in my bed. Do you know how hard it is to be away from you?” He kissed along your jaw, “It drives me fucking insane.”

His mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts and briefly sucking on them, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs until he knelt in between your bare legs and stared down at you.

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare, burning with desire. You smirked as you held his feral stare. “Go on then, what are you waiting for?”

Bucky held your stare as he chuckled, leaning down to trail his lips up to your inner thighs then placed his hands on both your thighs and spread your legs further apart. “So bossy, detective…” He whispered quietly under his breath as he held your gaze.

Your wetness slowly dripped out of you as he kissed you everywhere except for where you needed him the most. You were whining and squirming under him but he acted like he was suddenly in no rush.

“Do you know how desperately I’ve wanted this?” He spoke, lips brushing against your heated skin. Then he scoffed, “I bet no one even knows how wet and needy you get for the bad guy, huh?” He taunted, “I bet no one knows how pretty the little detective looks when she begs the wanted criminal to fuck her harder and deeper.” He spoke and each warm breath of his made you whine and squirm even more as he held you there, open for him.

His words gave you butterflies in your stomach, made you clench hard around nothing.

“Bucky, please… I need you.” You whispered, your voice barely audible to yourself with how loud your heartbeats echoed in your ears.

“Beg.” He said. “Beg me to touch you. Come on, babygirl. Beg for my tongue.”

You whined. “Bucky please… It’s been so long, please. I need you,” You whispered. “I need your tongue, baby, please.”

Bucky smirked upon hearing the desperation in your voice. “Good girl.” He quickly pressed his lips to your inner thigh again, his mouth getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

You tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against your wet folds. Your body shivered and squirmed. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft hair, which only made him groan even louder.

You couldn’t help but moan shamelessly as he brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you squirm in pleasure. His tongue slid up and down your folds, teasing your entrance, occasionally flicking your clit. “Best thing I’ve ever fucking tasted,” He whispered.

You tugged gently at his hair causing him to growl against your skin in response. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must be coating his entire mouth and lips by now.

“So fucking delicious…” Bucky whispered, as he kept making you moan louder and louder with his tongue. He parted your legs further as far as they would go as he slowly brought a metal finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds.

You shivered under his cold touch, then bit your lip to refrain from moaning too loudly. “Oh Bucky…” You sighed, then gasped audibly as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit. “Please…” You begged, wanting more.

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” He asked, and chuckled when you were only able to moan in response. Lips brushing against your wetness he asked again, “Does it, baby? Hmm? Did your fingers feel this good when you touched yourself while I was away?” He growled as you kept whining and squirming under his addicting touch, “Answer me.”

“No…” You gasped. “No, it didn’t feel this good.” You whispered, breathless and wanting. “Bucky please…” You moaned. “Stop teasing me.” You said, looking down at him.

He gave you a cocky smirk. “You’re mine. I’ll tease you if I want to.”

You whined again, “Baby, please…”

His ocean blue eyes watched you as you lost control under his touch, whimpering and legs shaking as he teased your clit with his tongue and finger-fucked you. “You look so beautiful like this, you know that?”

You squirmed and gasped under his addictive touch. “Bucky…” You moaned out loud, your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

You came hard, all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. You tugged harder at his hair as you came, gasping for air as you came down from the high.

A faint giggle escaped your lips as Bucky left small kisses up your body until he hovered above you again. He stared deep into your eyes. “I love you,” He said.

“And I you.” You wanted him so bad it hurt. “Please, Buck…” You begged. “No more teasing, please.”

Bucky’s smile was genuine as he said, “Okay, babygirl. Whatever you want.” He leaned in to kiss you again. You moaned into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue.

You kept waiting for more, but Bucky wasn’t quite done kissing you yet. So you scratched down his back, frustrated as you pulled away and demanded, “Will you fuck me already?!”

Bucky laughed at your little outburst, “Well spread your legs then,” He smirked when you obeyed instantly. He held your stare as he slowly slid inside of you, both of you grunting softly as he went. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He whispered, nothing but desire and love in his eyes. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “How the fuck did I survive without this for a whole damn week?”

You felt his cock stretching you, filling you up. Every thick inch of him sliding into your tight cunt. “I don’t know how I survived without you either, baby.” You gasped. “You… you feel so good.” You could feel your eyes tearing up at how snug he felt inside you.

Bucky pulled away to watch you, “I don’t care, I’m bringing you with me wherever I go from now on.” He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He looked down to where your bodies connected, quickly spitting right on your clit, his metal thumb spreading the wetness around as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss, swallowing your desperate moan in the process.

You couldn’t help your loud moans as he moved his hips the slightest bit. He said, “I forgot how good you looked with my cock buried deep inside you, babygirl.” Bucky pulled away and watched you as you whined at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. The problems of real life didn’t matter anymore.

“You feel so good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, his metal hand wrapping around your throat as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “So perfect for me.”

You moaned at how perfect his hard, muscular, tatted and slightly scarred body felt against yours, his weight pressing down on you. His slight stubble tickled your skin as he moved.

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body, tight and hot.

Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at me, babygirl.” When you did, he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.”

You nodded. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. Normally the idea of anyone claiming they owned you would’ve pissed you off. But damn, he made it sound so hot.

He gave you a lazy smile, “Are you gonna come for me now?” His metal hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little detective. Look at you, all cock drunk and still wanting more…” He scoffed, giving you a messy kiss. “Come all over my cock, come on. Be a good girl and come.”

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his hand let go of your throat and his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

Bucky loved that look on your face, that look of utter bliss, pain, pleasure, lust and hunger all at once.

“That’s it, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, look at you. Now come, come all over me,” He whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him.

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze.

“Fuck, baby…” He watched you, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. “I need you again.” He said, crazed with hunger for more.

He pulled out, his cock still achingly hard. “Already?” You squealed as he flipped you around – your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the pillows. You were still catching your breath when his metal hand teased you in between your legs, his cold fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble. “Ah,” You moaned due to the sensitivity. “Be gentle.” Your voice sounded muffled because of the pillows.

His body bent over yours, his warm chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I love you, but don’t you fucking dare tell me how to fuck you,” He said, softly but you could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, now growly voice.

“Buck…” You whined, “I’m gonna be so sore.”

“Good.” He licked along your neck and said, “I want you to feel me all day tomorrow.” He playfully bit down on your shoulder and you let out a loud moan. He chuckled at the sound of it.

You whimpered, “You always do this.” You murmured, voice laced with need and lust as he pulled away from your ear and kissed along your shoulders.

“Hmm. And you like it.”

You felt his hands on you, warm and cold, as he gripped each side of your hips then pushed into you from behind. Slow and deliberate strokes, until he slid inside you fully.

Bucky groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely all over again, and moved in and out of you hard and deep, desperately trying to make both of you come this time.

Your fingers gripped the cool, satin sheets beneath you tightly, and your mind was all foggy, and you moaned wantonly as he pounded into you from behind, not once slowing down.

His metal hand grabbed you by the back of your neck, using that grip to create a delightful momentum that had you tearing up again. “Fuck,” He growled, “Remind me to use a plug on you next time. Your other hole is looking pretty empty.”

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your mouth. “You can be so fucking filthy sometimes.” You said, whimpering just at the thought of being filled like that.

Bucky chuckled, not stopping. “You love me.” He said. All true.

Your walls throbbed and clenched around him each time he filled you up, as he took you higher and higher all over again.

“Fuck, babygirl.” He hissed. “I’m gonna come deep inside you.” You felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls violently. “Come for me again.” He hissed again, then groaned as you tightened around him – coming undone again.

Bucky growled as he buried his cock deep inside you, coming undone inside you like he promised. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, feeling some of his cum drip down your thighs.

“Fuck…” You whined, feeling your tears wet the pillow beneath you as you caught your breath.

“Oh babygirl,” He whispered as pulled out and he laid down beside you, pulling you into him for a cuddle. “I’ll clean you up in a bit, okay? I just need to hold you for a while.” He said, kissing all over your face. “Fuck, I love you.”

You sighed in bliss, still trying to calm your racing heart. “I love you more.” You whispered.

—

“So,” You spoke, putting another piece of fruit in your mouth as the two of you laid in bed in your robes. You were both too lazy to put on clothes after showering so here you were now, lounging in bed in your robes, with food and wine. “How was work?” You asked, “What did you do all week?”

“Apart from missing you like a lovesick madman?” Bucky smiled, placing his empty wine glass on the bedside table. “I made more money for you to spend.” He said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Meanwhile I had to pretend I was closer to putting some of your guys in jail. They just happened to be faster than me so I very conveniently lost them in a car chase. On an empty road.”

Bucky smirked, “You’re the best, baby.”

You threw a napkin at him. “I’m gonna lose my job one of these days because of you, I can feel it.” You taunted playfully.

He scoffed. “Well good, we can finally move to the island once you do.”

“There you go again,” You rolled your eyes again.

Him and that island – the small private island he owned and on which he planned to spend the rest of his life with you. He was obsessed with the idea of the two of you living there and calling it home, cut off from the rest of the world. Honestly, you didn’t hate the idea.

Bucky turned to face you, placing a gentle hand on your exposed knee. “Baby, we talked about this.” He reasoned. “At some point we’ll have to move. There’s no place for us here.” He added.

You knew what he meant. You knew he was right. But then there were other factors to consider. “Buck… what will I even do there?”

Bucky sighed, grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him. You straddled him with a coy smile as he lazily caressed your thigh while he spoke. “You can do anything. Everything. You won’t even have to work, I’ll take care of you. You know that, babygirl.”

You chuckled, cupping his face and giving him a loud kiss on the lips. “So you want me to leave my entire life behind, move to a private island with you and do what? Twirl around in a pretty dress all day? While you work your ass off?”

He smirked, “I quite like the thought of that actually.”

You smacked him on the chest. “I’m serious, Buck.”

“So am I.” He argued. “Look, I’ve been carrying an engagement ring around for more than six months now. But I don’t want to force you into doing anything. We can wait, I’ll wait for you. Just know that this is gonna happen sooner or later. Us, the island, our future together. It’s happening and you can’t stop it.” He then squinted at you, “Why aren’t you surprised concerning the ring?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You keep it in the drawers of your bedside table. It’s not exactly a secret spot to hide an engagement ring that big.” You teased.

Bucky smirked then pushed you down on the bed, getting on top of you again. Your robes untied in the process. You squealed and laughed as he tickled you incessantly. “That damn smart mouth of yours.” He growled, leaning in to kiss your face. “If you knew about the ring, why didn’t you bring it up? Hmm? Why haven’t you said yes to marrying me yet?” He nuzzled your neck, biting down on your shoulder.

“Ow!” You hissed in pain, then giggled as he kissed it better. “Because you haven’t proposed to me properly.”

“I don’t have to” He mumbled, kissing down your neck. “You’re marrying me and that’s it.”

You scoffed. “So fucking controlling.” You teased him, your back already arching beneath him as his kisses got more and more steamy.

He pulled away to look down at you, his chain dangling from his neck right above your face, tickling your skin. Suddenly you wanted to live in this moment forever. Safe, warm, under him. This was your favourite place in the whole world.

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with a criminal if you didn’t want a controlling man, detective.” He slapped your thigh, making you yelp in surprise. “And don’t pretend as if you don’t like me like this.” He sounded just as cocky as he did the day you met him.

You sighed. “Unfortunately I do.” You pulled him closer and kissed him. A soft, gentle kiss as he pressed his entire body weight down on you. “And yes, I will marry you. Eventually.” You whispered through the kiss.

He smiled against your lips, “Good.”

“Not right away though,” You said, “I still have many bad guys to catch.”

He chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m so in love with you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au

2K notes · View notes

proxima-writes · 8 months

Text

the right wrong number

pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6k

summary:

When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.

He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.

dear reader:

this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!

Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!

Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.

Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.

Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.

Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?

[Photo 01.jpg]

Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.

Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.

Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?

Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.

Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.

[Photo 02.jpg]

Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.

You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?

Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.

Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.

Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.

And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.

Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.

Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.

Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.

Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.

Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?

I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.

Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.

You still being a good girl and following my instructions?

Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?

You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.

Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?

Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.

You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.

I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.

Unknown Number: Like this?

[Photo 03.jpg]

Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.

Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.

Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?

Of course I am, baby.

Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?

Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.

No. He shouldn’t do any of that.

[Photo 04.jpg]

Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.

Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.

Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?

Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.

Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.

Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]

He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.

Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?

Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.

Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.

He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.

He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:

Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx

Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.

It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.

——————

You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.

“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”

You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.

“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.

“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”

“Never say never, babe.”

“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.

“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”

You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.

——————

Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.

Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.

“That’s the coach,” she explains.

Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.

“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.

“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.

You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.

“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.

“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”

Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”

You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”

——————

“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.

He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.

Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.

“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”

“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”

You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”

“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”

“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

——————

Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.

His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.

“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”

“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Me, too!” Sarah says.

“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.

You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.

Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.

“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.

You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.

A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.

“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.

“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”

The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.

“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.

“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.

“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.

“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.

If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?

——————

As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.

A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.

“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.

“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Bright and early.”

——————

Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.

He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.

Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.

——————

Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.

You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.

One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.

What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.

You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?

You delete the last line again with a groan.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?

You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.

——————

Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?

Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.

She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.

——————

Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.

On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.

“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“

“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”

“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.

“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.

“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.

“Looking forward to it.”

——————

To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.

“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”

You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”

A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.

“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”

You blink. “Uh—“

“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.

“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”

You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.

——————

Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.

“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.

“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.

A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.

“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.

“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.

“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”

“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”

“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”

“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”

“Really? You play anything?”

“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”

Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”

The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.

Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”

Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.

“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.

“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”

Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.

“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.

You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”

“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”

“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.

“It does,” you confirm.

Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.

“Check, please!”

——————

After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.

He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”

“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”

His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.

“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”

“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”

“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.

“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”

You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.

When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.

“Get in the truck, baby.”

——————

You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.

He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.

You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“End of the hall,” you reply.

Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.

His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”

“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.

“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”

Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.

“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”

“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”

“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”

He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.

“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhm.”

An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.

“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”

Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”

He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”

You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.

His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.

Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.

“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.

“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”

His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.

Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.

It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.

“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”

“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.

He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.

“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”

Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re staying?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.

——————

1 Year Later

“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.

The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.

“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.

“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.

“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #pre outbreak!joel #no outbreak!joel miller

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babypinkhearts · 10 days

Text

know it’s for the better. - g. suguru

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader, implied gojo satoru + fem!reader

summary: but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

warnings: canon au, angst (please forgive me ily all), mentions of violence, vulgar language, crude humor, time-jumps, cameos from shoko, megumi, yuji, nobara :3 comfort.

word count: 16.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby for a month, i’ve poured so much love into it. treat her well <333 loosely inspired by the songs “first love/late spring” by mitski and “waiting room” by phoebe bridgers. there are so many references to so many things in this :) some quotes that i will think about forever. hope you enjoy.

october, 2006.

“nine out of ten times.”

it’s the first sentence you say out loud after minutes of silence, and you’re given a puzzled look. it kinda makes you want to laugh, the confusion etched across his face so foreign that it’s rather intriguing. he’s golden, even under all the darkness. the world makes space for fallen angels.

“nine of ten times… what?”

you resist the urge to thumb that furrow in his brows, the creases looking wrong upon his soft features. you only smile, snuggling closer to him. either the room is magically colder, or suguru forgot to close the window. you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“that i would choose you.”

you’re slurring your words almost, but more from the plain laziness in your movements rather than from genuine exhaustion. suguru hums, fingers tapping along your arm. it may be around four in the morning, but you couldn’t sleep.

the both of you hadn’t been able to for a while.

not since riko, not since toji, and definitely not since the new scar trailing across your stomach. shoko hadn’t been able to make the repair seamless.

you didn’t really mind. a lot of things seemed pointless nowadays.

“and the other time?”

your eyes linger on the strand of hair that always falls imperfectly on his face. a little crack in his flawlessness, though you’re not sure how grand that observation actually is.

you sit up a bit, propping your head with your arm as you look down at his pretty brown eyes. narrow, as they currently are, but still evidently alluring.

“well, i think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” you reason, voice soft. sometimes the dependency you had with suguru worried you. waves can crash, but the water itself remains. you think you’ll always be bound to him. his, forever. and yet you say, “i’d choose myself. just for a bit of sanity.”

it’s meant to be lighthearted, but the silence that falls afterwards kills any tone of playfulness that statement might have held.

you wish you had been a little more greedy.

•••

september, 2007.

emotions were complicated things.

it’s complicated to process the bullet you watch fly through a child’s head. it’s complicated to process your near-death experience. it’s complicated to process process the news of your classmate’s death. it’s complicated to process how it’s expected for you to go back to normal. it’s complicated to process everything.

so you curl up further, and hope that the news you’re hearing now is only a nightmare. because again, it’s too complicated to process.

“he killed them.”

and with the way satoru says it, repeats it, you think he wants you to sit up and hug him. be vulnerable, because god knows it’s been so long since you have.

but you lay there, back in the bed that you used to sometimes share with the criminal. the stillness makes satoru’s stomach drop, and he can’t will himself to say it again just for the chance of getting a reaction from you. but how much pain can a heart take? because it felt like yours might give out at any moment.

you didn’t sign up for this.

naively, no, you didn’t sign up for this.

“how many?”

you’re not sure why you ask. any number would have you spiraling, but with the silent refusal satoru gives by not replying immediately, you’re sure the answer would kill you alone.

he knows. he knows the exact number, he’d seen the report.

but he stares at your desolate form, eyes scanning the mess in your room. or, lack of. he hardly saw you get get out of bed these days if it weren’t for missions. the only sign of movement from you were the plushies that used to adorn your bed, now sprawled on the floor. for a second, he wonders if they’re gifted from who he thinks they’re from. but that thought feels stupid the moment he thinks of it, because - yes. of course they were. that man had loved you like his lungs naturally loved air. he loved freely, graceful in the way he cared. about satoru, about you. anyone, really.

so saturo makes a decision, hoping that it alleviates a little bit of the ache that he now concludes he will attempt to shield you from. because he cares about you too much to see you succumb to your own internal wounds. he wants you to be strong, like him. like suguru was. he can’t lose you too.

“i don’t know.” satoru lies, and he hopes that sentence can at least ease your heartbreak. but he feels it just as much. sorrowful, the kind of pain he’s been too familar with for a while now. he frowns when you don’t move.

obstruct from his view, your hands grip your sheets as tight as humanly possible, and you’re sure that you break skin through the fabric. you want to cry, but you can’t. not in front of satoru. not while he’s right there.

because this doesn’t affect you. you didn’t care.

so what? suguru had left you to the wolves. to fend for yourself. he became a monster. it didn’t bother you.

and you try to convince yourself to think the same when satoru sits beside you. you’re still thinking it as his shaking hand places itself on your side.

but you give up when he lays beside you, feeling his grief. and that pain only cements itself further as you begin to quietly sob months worth of misery.

you don’t feel much better after.

•••

march, 2008.

nine out of ten times, you’d like to be given the option to wipe your memory.

the other time would be the ability to travel to the past. it’s hard to decide which could be better, or arguably worse. maybe you could save haibara - tag along on that stupid mission and fight that stupid curse. switch places with him, even. the world seemed a lot duller without him in it. nanami spoke even less than he did before. you couldn’t keep up a conversation with him.

was it irrational to think that you might have been able to kill toji too? he just caught you on an off-day. you’re the reason he killed riko. it’s your fault that a child is dead.

there’s so much to be sad about, you’ve started to confuse those ugly feelings with plain normality. it’s natural to feel like this. you can’t really remember better days. they’ve blurred, causing twisted retroactive interference.

your rock had fled. any form of stability you had crumbled with the weight of your sorrow, and you’re forced to miserably pick yourself back up because you’ve never really been used to being alone. satoru wasn’t really around anymore, and shoko never left her studies. you certainly weren’t abandoned, but, unfortunately, you understood that grief couldn’t just halt time forever.

you’ve mourned so much, it feels silly to still have the same ache.

but how do you even move on? what’s the process like? because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t be able to survive it.

you’ve began to rid any remnants of him in your room; any proof of his existence. clothes, specifically, because they hold on to his scent, and you think if you stop for a moment to actually look at them you might break down again. you see memories in them. times where he’s worn the black t-shirts, or his white button-up. insignificant at first glance, but it’s your life you’re holding on to.

you stuff them into bags as quickly as you can.

if he’s not here, he can’t hurt you.

at least, not anymore than he already had.

you think it’s cruel that you’re stuck with a person’s presence even if they’re not physically there anymore. you’ll always associate this room with him. the world, at that.

and maybe it’s childish that your first response (after the sulking) is to trash his belongings, but you can’t think of anything more rational to do. the universe will move on without him. you can’t be left behind too.

when you’re finished, you’re not sure if the sight of five large trash bags and an emptier room makes you want to sob or hit something. it’s like life has lost it’s color - a new vision, duller than what was deemed humane. torturous.

yet you can’t bring yourself to pick them up and take them out of the room. you’re idle, staring at them like they’re just meant to disappear. you hadn’t realized how much your room consisted of just him.

trash, is what you’re unintentionally calling everything in them. but you don’t think that, never in a million years.

if it were up to you, you’d keep everything exactly where it was, and obliviously continue a cheery facade. but the thing about awareness is that after it’s discovered, you can’t really leave it. it’s branded into your mind, poking at your brain with a stick because it will annoyingly never have the intention to leave you alone.

it’ll sit with you in your darkest hours, and you’re unable to predict when light will shine through.

“dump them.”

you jump, defenses high on alert as you instinctively fall back. almost immediately after, you drop your hands, sighing.

shoko is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. you’re about to ask her how long she’s been standing there for, but her lingering gaze on your conflicting pile of issues answers your question before you have the chance to.

“i’ll do it for you.” she offers, finally looking up to meet your eyes. they’re a little sunken in, and she looks restless. it’s the first time you’ve seen her in nearly two weeks. she’s ditched the short hair since a few months back, the length sitting comfortably at her chest now.

you dumbly stare, non-respondent on purpose. you don’t want her to do that.

she seems to recognize the discomfort on your face at her suggestion, and you watch as her brows bitterly furrow, a small glare now directed at the bags. but you don’t get much emotion other than that.

“you can’t cling on to this shit. it’s unhealthy.” she softly explains, shaking her head. you wonder if that’s her medical opinion or genuine concern speaking, but you don’t ask her to elaborate. instead, you turn around, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you kind of want her to leave.

“what’s healthy, then?” you retort, shrugging. it sounded a bit hypocritical coming from her. shoko had barricaded herself for the past six months, not even offering an ounce of genuine sympathy. in reality, you know it’s because she’s naturally avoidant. she didn’t crave support like you did. she didn’t need it like you had. because shoko has always been independent, never strung up on people. and you envy that more than anything.

“i don’t know.” she answers honestly, pursing her lips. but with one look around your room, and she’s certain it wasn’t this.

hesitantly, lets herself inside, eyes scanning the bareness. if it were any other day, she’d see suguru at your desk, or on your bed. he’d wave, and you would greet her with open arms. everyone knew the two of you were nearly inseparable (if it weren’t for satoru). the room always had a pleasant atmosphere when the two of you were in it. it feels cold and grim now, though. shoko has to fight a shiver.

you observe her, waiting for a joke or two. you’re nearly hoping, because any form of comedic relief had begun to be your craving. you needed an escape from all of this.

but instead, she turns back to you and wordlessly sits beside your tense form. it’s quiet for a bit.

there’s a charm that shines on the top of your desk, catching her eye. it dangles among other souvenirs, and shoko has to avert her eyes when she realizes that they’re all gifts from a certain deceased underclassman.

everything about this room feels like a graveyard.

“satoru comes back today.” shoko suddenly says, letting the first thing she can think of be verbalized. her eyes stay on the wooden floor this time. “he’s been in kyoto for a couple of days.”

you hum, nodding. you didn’t know.

if shoko kept her distance, then it was like satoru had completely faded. you couldn’t even remember the last time he had texted you.

then again, you weren’t sure if you’d even respond.

“i was thinking we could eat dinner together… when he gets back.”

your head perks up. barely.

that sounded familiar. mostly because it had been a routine up until recently. never verbally established, but it was natural for you and shoko to be accompanied by two towering sorcerers as you ate whatever satoru had decided on for the day. he was a picky eater. there’s a bitter taste on your tongue as you realize you’d be missing a member now.

“we can.” you nod, awkwardly kicking your feet back and forth. silence again.

you can feel shoko’s annoyance. how she’s trying to get you to talk, but you’re stupidly stubborn and refuse to. however, she knows you a little too well, and plays the waiting game. because she knows you’re weak when it comes to your heart, and weaker when it comes to the people you love. her included.

it’s not a relief when you finally break. if anything, it’s painful to hear, to watch. and though it’s only one question, it’s so complicated that it feels like you’ve asked her how the universe itself was created. simultaneously, it’s equally as simplistic.

it doesn’t even sound sad. it’s hollow, void of any distinct emotion. you’re staring at the wall.

“shoko…” you don’t pay attention to how she stills and watches you intently. you’re oblivious to the frown on her face, how she leans in just a little closer. and the widening of her eyes as you finish speaking. “how are you… okay?”

you feel particularly pathetic. shoko was so strong. satoru was the strongest. and yet here you were, more fragile than ever. on an alter, you’re a mere viewer from below. simply watching perched gods, basking in all their glory. the difference always evident, never comparable.

and yet shoko stares for a little, dumbfounded.

no, absolutely no one was ‘okay.’ the world was crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. but you’ve always been a reminiscent person, she supposes. you search for familiarity. it’s harder for you to let go.

“did i tell you that?” she asks, more rhetorically than anything. there’s a teasing tone that her voice holds, but it does little to rid the tension of your question. you slowly shake your head.

“then how do you know that’s true?”

you shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “i don’t know.”

you want to tell her that your thoughts are purely based on toxic comparisons to yourself, but the air feels a little thick already, so you don’t.

“c’mere.”

there is no protest made when she wraps her arms around you, and forces you to fall into your bed with her. the pillows under your heads dip, and you’re enveloped in the softness of your blankets. shoko’s warm, and if you closed your eyes you might mistaken her hold to be like a mother’s affection. evident adoration, just by the touch. you’re derived and soak it up as much as you can, leaning into her.

it reminds you of late nights where you’d have sleepovers and gossip until the sun came up. too tired to train the next day, yaga ordering laps regardless of your visible fatigue. and you’d run with gleeful smiles, energy lifting as you were side-by-side again. an unexplainable friendship one could never truly describe with words, just pure thoughts. it’s sickeningly nostalgic, because you think about the fact that it really had not been that long ago. how quickly things change.

shoko nuzzles her face into your hair affectionately and sighs. she squeezes you tightly. declarative - ‘i’m right here.’ never enough to make up for the lost time and avoidance, but enough for now. because shoko didn’t act like this normally, and for you to see her in such a state meant more than just any regular apology.

“i think you know how to love better than any of us.” she admits, and that sentence alone has you curling a little more into her, your chest suddenly feeling tight. she leans in, and her lips form into a sorrowful smile as she observes you. full of pure understanding. again, a connection that could not be made with words. it feels a little spiritual. she brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. “that’s why you find it all so painful.”

hesitantly, you offer a sad smile, her words all bittersweet. it makes you laugh a little distastefully, the reality of them hitting you at once. “well, that’s not fair.”

“it’s not.” shoko agrees, nodding. “but it’s a lovely thing.”

you make a face. recently, it’s only brought you suffering. the good bits don’t seem as worth it - as ‘lovely’ as she describes.

you pause, contemplating for a little. and your voice is affirmative, like you’ve never been more sure in your life. you kinda sound like a naive child.

“i don’t want it. take my feelings. i don’t like them.”

it’s true. it’s the biggest truth you’ve ever told with the biggest sincerity. and you know it’s not possible, that you’re stuck like this forever. a soft, easygoing heart that beats for everyone around it. your words make shoko snort - a real genuine laugh. you giggle through watery eyes.

“the world sucks.”

this time, it is a pitying smile that shoko gives you. lop-sided, and hesitant. she feels bad.

her arms leave you, and she opts to instead lay facing you, faces mere inches from one another. you’re both laying on your cheeks, against folded hands. shoko taps your nose.

“you know what i think?”

you hum, sniffing a little as you try to focus on the small amount freckles across her face instead of the overwhelming urge to let some tears fall. it works, for the most part. you count twenty.

“i think the world gives strong feelings to strong people.”

you smile at that.

shoko was something else.

“i’m pretty fucking strong then, aren’t i?” you mumble, tired eyes blinking as you sigh. shoko’s eyes crinkle as she returns the fondness, a hand resting on your cheek.

“definitely.”

and you can only hope she’s right.

there’s nothing that interrupts those sweet moments of tranquillity. where you can act like everything is just a little better, because in all honesty, it was. shoko’s good at making you feel like that.

if you really thought hard enough, this could be just another regular day. you want it to be.

you feel shoko’s finger poke your chest, and she gives you a pointed look. it’s like she could read your mind - subconsciously, as if she had the ability of a third eye.

“it gets easier. every day it gets a little easier. but you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part.”

she leaves it at that.

you lay together, appreciating each other’s mere presence. and it feels nice. support, like you craved, but words even more. you aren’t able to formulate how much you adore her, but actions speak louder than words, so you shuffle just a tiny bit closer.

you’re not sure how much time passes by.

when shoko stands up, she rids you of her warmth, leaving the cocoon of wonder and comfort she’d so gracefully created for you. yet you feel fine, that isolating shiver now replaced with content. you think you feel a little lighter too.

“be outside by seven. if it’s up to me, we’ll all get sushi. no promises though.”

she’s back to being more standoffish, but still your same shoko. you nod appreciatively, the thankfulness worth the weight of a million tons. your eyes follow her as she walks across the room.

the door shuts, and you’re left alone again.

you can feel your heart beat a little faster, the realization of your commitment to the later plans finally dawning upon you. it would be the first real reunion since then. maybe a chance to talk things out. be levelheaded, get some communal closure.

or, maybe you’d be able to ignore the past and focus on the present. just act like friends eating lunch. because that’s all it was, wasn’t it?

begrudgingly, you force yourself to stand, too aware of the fact that your habits of wasting time in bed have far exceeded a reasonable amount over the past few months. it was time to get better, be better.

your hands grab the first bag.

it’s heavy, as you imagine all the other ones are. but you suppose if you don’t think about what’s in them, it’ll make the process a lot smoother.

you’re nearing the door when you stop.

it’s a small paper, it’s yellow exterior almost blending in with the sunlight escaping through the windows. you inch closer.

and it’s pathetic that the sight of his handwriting on a sticky-note makes you lose your breath. shameful, because how are inanimate objects this damaging?

it’s hung above your desk. by haibara’s gifts, and by notebooks you never really used in this academically-lackluster school.

you stare at it for a while, hand resting over your forehead as you take in every minuscule detail. you let go of the bag.

it’s the last note suguru had ever left you, made a few weeks before his disappearance. before everything went downhill. little poetic phrases that would embed themselves in your mind until death. you’re afraid to look.

it’s neatly written, displayed in purple ink. doodles of clouds and flowers surround the words. he had a habit of leaving them around. you suppose you never caught this one.

there’s a little heart next to his signature, encapsulating just a memory of lost devotion.

‘how strange to dream of you, even when i am awake.’

your hand crumbles the note in a second.

the paper is evidently weak, and when you open your hand back up, the words are still clearly there, haunting you. and you know you don’t have the heart to throw it away. or, realistically - throw anything away.

you fold the note gently, and leave it on your desk. your body yearns to leave, to escape the suffocation of what suddenly felt like walls that were caving in. you slam the door on your way out, bags and all left behind.

you’d definitely prefer to wipe your memory.

•••

april, 2005.

“you’re so annoying.”

satoru grins, standing proudly as you repeatedly attempt to hit him on the head, your touch stopped by his infinity. he’d only recently learned how to control it decently - claiming that he needed to because you had a bad habit of using him as your punching bag.

“you know what though? this is a good thing.” you muse, arms crossing as you finally give up. satoru’s head tilts, and you raise a brow. “no one wants to touch you anyways.”

there’s a dramatic pout that immediately finds itself on his face, and he whines from instinct, letting his guard down for a moment to shove you. you slap his arm before he has a chance to react.

“she’s right.” suguru nods affirmatively, earning a gasp from the white-haired male, and suddenly, suguru is being shoved too. you giggle, briefly making eye contact with him. it’s a little too quick for your preference, but the stolen glance has you holding your breath for a moment.

it’s exhilarating.

suguru is beautiful in a way that is hard to describe. but it’s not from a loss of words; you can speak endlessly about him. he’s everything a person could dream of and more. but it’s little gestures that truly draw you to him. how it seems like he always lingers, attentive and patient no matter what boulders you seem to throw at him. he’ll carry that weight on his shoulders easily, and with the most effortless smile. it’s a gentleness that you weren’t even sure was possible before you met him. he defies all expectations, all normalities.

“oh, i forgot to ask-“ satoru turns to you, raising his brows. sometimes his glasses bothered you. his eyes were freakish, yes, but you also had a conflicting urge to always look at them. “how’d your mission go yesterday?”

you cringe, involuntarily stiffening as you replay the events in your head.

“stupid semi-first grade. i let my guard down for a second and it almost clawed me.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. you fail to notice suguru’s eyes widen. “but we exorcised it right after. i swear i saw nanami shit himself.”

there’s a stark difference in reactions from both boys. while satoru snickers, suguru stays quiet. white and black.

“glad you’re still with us.” satoru beams, ruffling your hair before you have a chance to swat his hand away. “right, suguru?”

all attention flocks towards him, and you and satoru patiently await his response. he’s looking off to the side.

he feels a little childish.

there’s an uncomfortable pit in suguru’s stomach that he can’t shake off, and he swallows thickly, nodding with a dismissive cough. “yeah, glad it went well.”

obliviously, you flash him a thankful smile.

it makes him feel the tiniest bit better.

he wished yaga would pair you two together, or even put you with satoru. an actual backup - not someone below your skill level. haibara and nanami weren’t comparable; they were still new to jujustu. younger, less experienced. he holds a little resentment towards your abilities, and while he knows you’re never sent on missions that are tougher than you can handle, he always has an inkling of worry that lingers uncomfortably. he hates not being around you - not knowing if you’re okay. and he knows you’re a reckless fighter. you brush off the mention of critical injuries and move on, completely unbothered. the burden of stress came so easily when he was around you and satoru.

“you have another one tomorrow, right?”

you hum, nodding as you fiddle with the end of your uniform, sighing softly. “it’s across town i think. not sure who’s coming with me yet - maybe it’ll be shoko if i beg hard enough.”

suguru has to fight a wince. also not an ideal companion. shoko didn’t specialize in combat.

she’d only be actual help if you were wounded, and -

“why not me or satoru?”

he speaks before he thinks, and iternally, he punches himself in the face. he can see satoru stop moving in his peripheral vision. he thinks he sees a smirk. coy, but no words come out.

scoffing, you deadpan. “where’s the practice in that? you guys will kill it before i even get a chance to see it.”

and that’s true, because it’s happened dozens of times before. show-offs.

“we can get kikufuku after!” satoru exclaims, completely disregarding you as you begin to protest rather loudly. “i’ve been craving it. i haven’t had it since last week!”

“wait longer.” you sneer, glaring at him. “i rather go alone.”

now that, suguru would verbally be clearly against, without any hint of shame.

“boo.” satoru deflates, rolling his eyes at you. “that won’t even happen.”

it wouldn’t. you hadn’t earned that trust yet - the absolute certainty that you’d survive if you did a mission alone.

suguru’s glad.

“not yet.” you chirp, and the hopeful smile on your face doesn’t help anything. “but soon enough.”

there’s that unwavering aura you always hold that makes suguru feel a little sick. it’s determination, stubbornness, that follows you and keeps you whole. when you talk like that, words void of any doubt, he knows you mean it. and you’ll accomplish it, because your will for achievement is stronger than your rationality.

but he has you now, right in front of him, so he’ll ease himself of the worry. for now.

“in a million years.” satoru remarks, sticking his tongue out at you, not even bothering to look your way as you hold up a rather unpleasant finger in his direction. playful banter was regular between you two; you fed off of each other’s energy. suguru seemed to be the mediator.

an observer, with eyes particularly always lingering on one certain person.

•••

spring has flowers blossoming again, and you feel inclined to stay out for as long as possible. the confinements of your dorm feels like an obstacle, and it’d be a waste to miss out on the beauty that winter’s absence welcomed.

it’s perfect weather.

the cursed weapon in your hand had begun to feel rather light, your arm adapting to the overpowering weight. you disliked close-range combat, but you were being sent on tougher missions now, so there was no room for complaints. your abilities needed to strengthen.

and it’s frustrating, really. to have to constantly forgo complete confidence and figure out where you’re weakest; you could easily make a list with areas of needed improvement. a lot of your classmates seemed to lack that issue. you suppose what’s worse is that you’re completely aware it wasn’t a competition - but you had convinced yourself that at the least, you needed to stay on their level.

even if that meant working ten times harder, even if that meant exerting yourself past a reasonable amount.

but this routine has gotten you this far, and, sincerely, it hadn’t been too much of a problem to keep up with.

in fact, you could probably do a little more.

“you shouldn’t train so much, you’ll strain yourself.”

your stance falters, though you easily recover within the same second. maybe a little too late, but you tried not to be nit-picky. he was naturally quiet.

“i gotta keep up with everyone somehow.” you quickly grin, trying to calm the visible pants of your labored breathing. it’s futile, and you momentarily turn away, as if embarrassed to look anything but perfectly composed. to look less than him - or anyone, really.

your back is towards him.

suguru can read you perfectly. it’s with ease that’s almost completely overbearing, and some part of him believes that he’s only been put on earth to watch out for you. like it knows that you aren’t the kindest when it comes to yourself.

it’s so natural that he supposes it might be his true purpose.

you only hear him hum from behind you, and suddenly there’s a weight pushing down on your raised weapon, ushering it towards the floor. gentle fingers graze against yours, and you let him grab it from you, albeit with some hesitation. he places it on the floor.

“let’s take a break, yeah?”

he doesn’t even need to coerce you, you’d follow him blindly if he asked. you always do.

and he’s leading you, knowing you’re behind him without having the urge to look back and check. exhaustion lingers, but you’re too entranced by him to focus on the sore ache of your limbs. he’s graceful as he walks.

“we trained this morning.”

you freeze momentarily, looking off to the side with a shrug. it’s not that he sounds hostile - it’s just a bit more monotone than normal. “practice makes perfect.”

suguru makes a noise of acknowledgment, but it sounds a bit absentminded and dull, lacking any understanding. like a huff of annoyance.

“right.”

he shouldn’t be this bitter, this cold, when speaking to you. it’s rough against his tongue, and his entire body, mind and all, is actively telling him to stop. emotions are ugly things, though. it makes people less rational; less aware - say things they may regret.

suguru slows his steps, up until you’re beside him, where you should be. and by a glance at you, he knows he’s gotten too uncharacteristically rigid. you’re looking at him, confusion clouding your head. concern, actually. he sees it now.

“did i do something wrong?”

the meekness in your voice, haunted with worry, clears his senses in a millisecond. his eyes widen. panicked, he feverishly shakes his head.

“no — no. of course not.”

he sees you relax a bit, but you’re still looking questionably at him. your head tilts. “then?”

suguru sighs, swallowing thickly as he stops walking. it’s an enchanting sight, grassy fields just a little off main campus. you see a few flowers.

you follow after him as he sits, greenery cushioning your bodies as you settle. suguru picks at the weeds, his eyes on the floor. he speaks quiet, voice among the gentle breeze as his hair flows in waves. you have the urge to remove his hair-tie and see it fully.

“i just worry about you.”

you don’t even attempt to hide the slight flustered smile that finds itself on your face, body feeling overwhelmingly warm. he’s avoiding eye contact for once. l

it’d be a lie if you claimed you didn’t notice the tension - the smiles, the laughs, the soft-spoken volume of his pure voice. so silky smooth it’d rid you of all your worries in a second. but there’s something so alluring about never saying it out loud. like it’s your little secret the two of you can keep, because adoration itself is something so beautiful it needed to be dragged out for as long as possible. you’ve grown to be a little impatient, though.

you nudge him teasingly.

“don’t. i’m right here.”

and it’s true; suguru sees it as a privilege. to be around your presence, to just talk to you — he worships the ground you walk on, and he’s not sure how to tell you that might be the reason why he worries so much.

instead, he chuckles, head bowing momentarily.

“i wish it were that easy.”

you bring your knees to your chest, giggling lightly.

he’s cute.

undeniably.

“it is.” you urge, dragging out the last syllable as you sway towards him. he meets your eyes. “just trust me like i trust you.”

suguru thinks that you’re sometimes oblivious to the weight of your words. they can be so intimate, and you’ll deliver them like any other sentence. as if you hadn’t just made his stomach churn, and his heart beat a little faster. he trusts you more than a healthy amount. he’d trust you with his life, his future — he’d leave everything in the palms of your hands.

“i do.” he replies, reassuringly. it’s earnest, and you smile. suguru bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes. “it’s everything else that scares me.”

and there’s really nothing you can really do to help that fear, because you know it’s completely reasonable and realistic. tomorrow is never promised, especially with the hectic lives you live. you want to tell him that you have similar thoughts when he and satoru are out for days at a time, no return window strictly placed. that it has you pacing back and forth until their arrival, and even then you downplay your relief. but that’s a little embarrassing to say when he’s listening so intently, so you keep quiet.

you turn to him, shrugging with a smile you pray looks more optimistic than sorrowful.

“we can only ever hope for the best.”

a little hollow, less declarative than preferred, but it works the same. suguru nods in silent agreement.

suguru used to think that exceptional beasts like you and him could not fall in love — that it was the secret of ordinary people. for beings, who can alter the world, were special in indescribable ways. but he’s grown to be more open-minded, more accepting.

because what else could he do? you were so irresistible that it ceased the existence of his birth-given psychology. his mind, altered just for you.

“you know… you don’t have to prove yourself of anything.”

this time, it’s suguru who nudges you. he leans in, and you feel his hair brush against your arm. it tickles, but you don’t flinch. your body naturally welcomes the proximity, tingles and goosebumps etching across your skin. you squint, waiting for him to elaborate. and he does, with one validating sentence that kinda erases the possibility of self-doubt. just for a bit.

“i think you’re strong.”

he’d move stars for you, talk to the moon if it meant you got to keep the shimmer in your pretty eyes. and he’d ask the sun to stay out longer so he could continue seeing your rosy cheeks.

he’d gladly live for infinity if he could be the reason you get flustered forever.

you’re very pretty like this.

his eyes are watchful, observant as you scoff bashfully, avoiding him. and you quietly respond, with that same soothing voice. he thinks it could be a lullaby.

“i think you’re strong too.”

suguru smiles, nodding and all-knowing. he pokes you playfully.

“i know.”

you’d complain, but his tone lacks any arrogance. just a statement, enough said. because he knows how you think, how you observe.

and while you don’t say it out loud, your eyes are telling him ‘thank you.’

how beautiful the act of reading an expression is. of knowing a person so easily it’s like clockwork, unraveling intricate details to form a conscious understanding.

he watches your eyes narrow, and awaits a question he knows is on the tip of your tongue. your face looks a certain way during contemplation.

“you like doing this stuff?” you ask, tilting your head. “being a sorcerer, i mean.”

as if the two of you had other options. you didn’t.

but there’s something comforting about answering known questions. speaking the obvious into existence, letting the information linger in the air.

“i like it.” suguru replies, smiling. “if you get rid of the bad stuff.”

his voice gets quieter at the end, but you save him the questioning glance and smile back.

you hum, nodding. “like what?”

and you can name a million bad things. every day is a reminder of them. the two of you have that in common. but thankfully, the world has been kind enough to not let you experience them. your optimism hadn’t been tainted.

and as you expressed to him — you try not to dwell over the ticking clock, only ever hoping for the best.

suguru’s hands are behind him, propping himself up as he gazes at sheer, distant clouds. the sky is a pretty mix of yellow, orange, and red. evening approaches.

“well, all that self-sacrificing stuff for the betterment of mankind — for starters.” he sighs, head leaning back. you wonder if you imagine the way the slight slivers of sun sparkle against his skin, and how angelic his aura seems in that very moment.

you scoot a little closer, gaze matching his as you look upwards.

“we’re helping so many people, though.” you reply, glancing at him for a second. his eyes are closed, like a cat basking in the warmth of the light. you want to kiss his cheek.

“we are.”

“i think it’s cool.”

“it is cool.” he affirms, nodding. one eye opens, and he shamelessly stares as you obliviously observe the world. suguru is suddenly grateful that this view is currently only reserved for him, as he’s sure anyone would fall in love with you in this exact moment. yet, at the least, he wants you to see yourself in his neutral vision.

but butterflies cannot see their own beautiful wings, so he’ll gladly worship you quietly.

he looks at your hand on the grass, right beside his. it’s contemplation that’s been built up for months, thoughts of you invading all his senses. suguru figures that if he had a flower for every time he’s thought of you, he could walk through a garden forever. he inches his fingers closer.

and pauses when they’re less than a centimeter away, pulling back as you break the silence.

“i mean, i’d die for you guys too.”

suguru tenses, and you grow nervously quiet from the sight of his surprised expression, feeling suddenly embarrassed. an awkward laugh leaves your lips in an attempt to ease the gloom of your words, and you mindlessly wave your hand. “if it came down to it, y’know.”

you would in a heartbeat. you’d do it a thousand times over if you could, but you don’t tell him that. that proclamation is reserved for only you.

and as suguru looks over at you, stares, he doesn’t think he’ll ever despise an idea more than he does now. it’s blazing, the thought horrendous.

“don’t say stuff like that.” he demands, shaking his head brazenly. you can feel his eyes still on you, and he’s lost his smile. “don’t ever.”

all the defense, the stoicism, stemming from the thought that — yes. he 100% believed you would die for anyone. and that terrified him more than anything.

suguru isn’t sure how to communicate his thoughts in a softer way. he doesn’t mean for his demeanor to grow so cold again, but it bothers him - makes him sick - that you can say things like that so easily.

“i didn’t — i’m sorry.” you stutter, eyes wide. you swallow thickly, “sorry.”

and again, it’s hard to be upset with you.

but this, he can be against. he needs to be.

“you can’t think like that.” suguru speaks, softer this time. it’s pleading, as if he’s begging for a bit of mercy. and he is. “please.”

he wants to tell you that it’s okay to be selfish, to prioritize yourself first. but it would seem a bit hypocritical coming from him, because he knows he’d throw everything away in a whim if it meant keeping you safe.

love blinds him, he supposes.

“okay.” you nod, eyes on the floor. “i won’t.”

you’re considerate enough to lie, despite knowing full well that your words don’t align with your mind whatsoever. and you think suguru knows that.

he’s staring. you can feel it, eyes as intense as a midnight sky. you feel a little afraid to look up and meet them.

but it’s only instinct when he speaks your name softly, a coaxing whisper among suffocating tension.

you think he looks ethereal when being clouded with concern. godly, towering upon you. the magnitude of his gaze truly shows with the lack of distance. you register the feeling of his hand on yours before anything else, the touch searing from pure shock. a large palm covers your skin.

“… i’m sorry. i just care about you a lot.”

worry is care. it’s one of the greatest devotions — the act of panic for another person.

suguru thinks that romance may actually be the most horrific thing in life. that it’s not curses, but love. it’s the deepest weakness.

“you kill me when you get injured — when you speak like that.” he mutters, and the two of you don’t say a thing as his hand inches higher.

it feels a little harder to breathe.

“can’t promise i’ll stop.” you reply, a pitying smile finding it’s way on your face as you watch him close his eyes briefly.

“i know.”

suguru feels a little like a broken record player, doomed to repeat the same phrases like it’s clockwork.

it’s futile, you’re mutually aware.

he can’t control you, he’s unable to dictate what decisions you make — no matter how stupid, or how horrid they are to him. but he can’t bring himself to stop trying. maybe, if you’re reminded your value, you’ll eventually think the same.

but, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now could make him believe anything.

“did you find out who’s joining you tomorrow on your mission?”

the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, and he knows your answer before you say it out loud. he grins.

your other hand places itself on top of his, and you smile back. heart giddy, but you try your best to keep your composure.

“i pulled a few strings.”

•••

december, 2015.

you wonder if growing up not only changes your body, but your soul.

because it takes a long time to realize how truly miserable you are, and even longer to see that it doesn’t have to be that way.

it’d be kinda hard to feel your unhappiness now, regardless.

“i prefer if you keep them outside, megs.” you wince, eyeing the dirt-covered paw prints on the hardwood floor.

the two perpetrators stand on either side of their summoner.

flushed and clearly embarrassed, megumi curtly nods. his hair moves the slightest with the movement, and he turns his head away from you, kicking his foot back and forth. “sorry, i wasn’t thinking.”

the dogs leave your eyesight quickly after. you snort, playfully rolling your eyes at him, walking over to ruffle the dark spikes on his head.

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” you smile, silently pleased when he doesn’t move away from the ministration. he’s always been more lenient with you, a fact you hold high over a certain white-haired sorcerer. “plus, i’ll just make satoru clean it up.”

if you had blinked, you might had missed the way megumi’s mouth quirks up, satisfaction clear as day. it makes you giggle, up until you finally inspect him closer. your eyes linger on the dirt covering the side of his white shirt, and you softly sigh, pursing your lips.

“how was the curse?” you ask, nudging him a little where the stains are most prominent. “roughed you up a bit, huh?”

megumi’s introduction to jujustu wasn’t entirely seamless, but he was definitely a natural. an anomaly, like satoru. born with talent.

you watch as his face turns sour, and his eyes suddenly narrow, the stoic expression more familiar. he avoids your gaze and looks at the door expectantly, mumbling something under his breath.

“what?” you reply, brows furrowing as you lean a little closer in hopes he’ll repeat himself. megumi’s mouth opens again, and he’s about to, but an obnoxious ‘i’m backkkk!’ interrupts him.

you share an unimpressed look with the younger boy.

satoru strides inside, whistling with a grin. you’ve spent too much time with him, years ticking off your lifespan from both the annoyance and contentment that he simultaneously brings into the world. he and megumi had left early in the morning, and it was around midday now — too long with him, as you can clearly pinpoint on latter’s face.

satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he shuts the door with his shoulder, leaning back against it.

“missed us?” he smiles, and he walks over to throw an arm around megumi, which is immediately thrown off. satoru glares momentarily, but quickly looks back up at you, clearing his throat. “missed me?”

you stare, sighing softly before gently tugging megumi towards you.

“i missed megumi.” you correct, crossing your arms. your head motions to him, “and why does it look like he got pushed on the floor? i thought you said-“

“it was a grade three!” satoru immediately exclaims, and points to the boy beside you in accusation. “he told me not to get involved.”

despite his adult frame, satoru never really outgrew his childishness, still quick to blame anyone other than himself. his defensiveness was mildly irritating, but you've come to grow used to it. your head shakes disapprovingly, and you huff. “he’s thirteen, you idiot.”

satoru’s smile turns a little mischievous as megumi looks at you quizzically, a frown on his face. “so?”

you rub your head in annoyance, ignoring satoru’s ‘oooo,’ and gently flick megumi on the forehead. “you’re not an official student yet. dealing with curses by yourself can wait. for now, you fight with satoru.”

satoru dramatically sighs, and much to your dismay, approaches you. his arm infamously wraps itself around your frame, body leaning towards you, and it feels like the weight of an elephant, crushing you as you stumble. he doesn’t let up. “you worry too much. and he exorcised it! maybe with a little less ease than expected, but-“

he grunts when a hand collides with his side, and you’re too busy pushing him off to see the way he sticks his tongue out at megumi.

maybe your concerns were a little irrational, but your heart was in the right place. megumi was still young, still enrolled in a normal middle school — albeit, close to his last year — and you had originally planned to keep him completely innocent for just a while longer. no world of killing, curses, and whatnot. but satoru had pushed him into it within the first few months of his complicated adoption, and you secretly knew that there was nothing you could do to completely shield that side of the ugly world for him.

so, you suppose the least you could do was teach him how to protect himself. in case you or satoru couldn’t.

“well,” you sigh, defeatedly. there’s a lopsided smile on your face, and you expectantly look to megumi. “how was it, then?”

there’s a boyish smile, a little shy, that appears on his face. “cool.”

“see!” satoru grins, arms raising in victory. “he loved it, and he should probably do it more often-“

“fine, fine.”

it’s always been pretty futile to argue with satoru. not only is he stubborn, but painstakingly arrogant. he tends to think his ideas are always the best, simply because they’re made in his very head. and you can’t discredit them, because normally, they’re alright. but it can be frustrating. he’s also really hard to deny.

it’s only natural to give in. just so you can avoid drawing it out.

“awesome! i think he’s ready for a special grade!” satoru claps his hands, and you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

“don’t kill my kid.” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn, ignoring the way satoru’s smile settles into something a little more genuine. heartfelt, maybe.

truth be told, you’d trust satoru with everything and more. you worry and fret, but at the end of the day, he’ll still be there. he’s been stuck to you like glue for years now, and it didn’t help that you practically live under the same roof. different rooms, but realistically having no actual space. it’s nice, and you really do hold him in your heart deeply. at an arm’s length.

you end up being stuck with cooking dinner yet again — satoru winning because otherwise he’d ’poison the kids’ (which, you think is stupid because he could easily just follow a recipe. also, he’s used that excuse before.) — and it’s like clockwork, a routine, when you find yourself sat across from him on the couch afterwards, tsumiki and megumi long gone in their respective rooms.

you’ve found that gojo satoru acts a bit differently when it’s just the two of you. less irritable, and easier to talk to; you’ve noticed this since you met him. his voice gets quieter, the blindfold comes off, his hair falls, and you’re presented with a more raw version. and maybe the kids get a different version too, but you find that hard to believe when megumi’s distaste is so palpably strong.

“movie?” satoru asks, peeking at you through narrow eyes. his face is a little smushed by his palm as he leans against the armrest, and there’s a lazy smile on his face. he looks kinda tired, weirdly enough. exhaustion is so foreign on his face that it looks almost fake. you wonder how much he slept last night, spotting hints of darkness beneath the pretty blue of his vision.

you think it’s strange that you don’t get sick of his presence, even after all this time. that’s it’s forever missed more than loathed. you’re always in such close proximity, practically doing everything together, and yet you find that crave him every second he’s not beside you. pitifully, it might just be the attachment issues you’ve subconsciously formed, and have unfortunately plagued satoru with. but that reason just seems a little too sad for you to fully admit. everything realistic is somehow bitter. you softly sigh, momentarily closing your eyes.

you’d love to stay, just to hear his idiotic rambles and comments. they always brought more substance than the film itself. and he’s been gone all day. you rub your forehead, feeling a small inkling of guilt.

“i have a mission later.” you reply, apologetically, and smile sincerely. “but when i come back, yes.”

an active report coming from a town over — information on paper only describing the energy as ‘ominous.’

“oh,” satoru’s eyes widen, and though you’re unable to read the exact emotion on his face, he seems a little alarmed. nearly wincing. he’s kinda upset that you didn’t tell him sooner, that being visibly clear — but then again, did you really have an obligation to? he didn’t really tell you whenever he had missions. but that was because he’d return in a few quick hours every time. satoru didn’t like being gone for too long either. he never dragged out his departures; he hated to leave you by yourself, even if the kids were with you. it feels a little cruel. you watch his eyes dart towards the windows, and he shifts, facing you. the movement is a little awkward, and he pauses before his speaks, hesitant with his words. “want me to go with you? it’s kind of late.”

it’s sweet that he asks.

“satoru,” you chuckle, tilting your head. “it’s a couple of second grades. i’ll be fine.”

a little white lie, but you craved some action. satoru always got stuck with the interesting missions, and even then they posed no such threat to him. all of your assignments were simple, too easy to be considered enjoyable. if this was going to be the route you were taking in life, — exorcising curses — then you could at least make it somewhat fun.

satoru can tell something’s off. you’re too dismissive, and you won’t look at him directly. but he feels as though it’s not his place to scold you, and he trusts you dearly, so he ignores his gut.

“alright.” he shrugs, his arms moving behind his head as they nonchalantly cross, contrasting the way he feels a little unusual. “call me if you need anything.”

•••

december brings cold winter air, and you blow into your palms, attempting to warm the skin that’s begun to grow a little numb.

more people should go on nightly walks, you think. maybe then it’d be more calming. every street you’ve turned to is nearly empty, the only comfort being provided by dim overhead lights. but you suppose you’ve gone through more fearsome events, so this shouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

it’s a little frustrating to be walking around so aimlessly. the report gave no specific location, just the brief mention of a couple of previous sightings. by now, they’d more-than-likely dispersed to other areas.

you’re slightly tempted to call satoru for some help, as you’ve never been the best at detecting curses at a long-range, but you refrain.

it was late, and you know he’d probably never let you live it down.

satoru would never say ‘no’ to you. but there comes a price with that reliability and expectancy. small instances, like when you caught a cold, and had asked him to order for you at a coffee shop because your voice had been to sore to do so. he complied, but not without a relentless amount of teasing, even going to far as to lie to the barista, saying ‘sorry, she’s just really shy.’ he lived for your embarrassment, and it was generally harmless, so you couldn't reprimand him for it.

but sometimes every time, he’d have his own small apology. like how right after you had returned home, there was soup coincidentally ordered on your front porch.

satoru had walked inside without looking at you.

he can be tolerable. rarely.

you're nearly persuaded to go back home, midnight beginning to take a toll on your tired eyes. as far as you were aware, the curses hadn't caused harmful havoc. but it'd be pretty humiliating to head back without a small victory, and even then you'd probably stay up feeling guilty.

unintelligible whispers break you out of your thoughts, and you blink, eyes scanning the area.

goosebumps arise, and your head turns.

finally.

you nearly jump when you see it, though keep your composure, standing straighter.

it’s hardly detectable, as it stands. fairly large too. it might actually be a second grade.

you huff, brows furrowing as you inspect the curse. this was the cause of the ‘ominous’ energy? you feel it, but it’s looks don’t work well with it’s written description. maybe you’d be heading home sooner than you expected.

your hand reaches behind you to grab your weapon, and you move forward, testing to see how fast it’s reflexes are.

it doesn’t move.

you pause, rolling your eyes briefly.

“at least put up a fight, dude.” you mumble, nearly sighing as it continues to plainly watch you. you walk a little closer, up until you’re only a few feet away, and hum. “you’re not the brightest…”

you insert your weapon back into it’s sheath, and stare. it’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to see a curse so closely. they’re all usually extremely reactive, not sparing you a second before attacking. violence is their prime instinct; the main thought in their heads.

when you reach your hand to poke it, and it still doesn’t budge, you know something is wrong.

oh.

your entire body stills, and you’re certain that you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

something felt familiar.

confirming your terrible suspicions, the curse disappears in front of your very eyes. not exorcised. you’re staring at the empty space that it once occupied, too bothered by the fact that your heartbeat has picked up ten times faster.

you almost reach for your phone, but stop, feeling as though it wouldn't be the wisest decision.

this suddenly all feels a little too calculated. you don’t even attempt to grab your weapon again.

shock numbs your bones. it bleeds through and renders you useless.

you hear your name before you see him, and you figure it feels the same as the nearly-fatal slash toji had given you almost a decade ago. so painful that it makes your heart stop. it’s spoken with such intimate fondness — too much for your poor heart to comprehend.

his ubiquity is so daunting that you’re sure all time ceases to exist.

you don’t want to turn around. you want to run, flee before you know it’s too late. before you hear him speak, and the world comes crashing down all over again. you’ve tried so hard to piece it back together. every tiny detail - you’re not sure if you’d be able to start over. why now? when you’ve finally been better. when you finally believed that normality was even possible to achieve.

but you’ve always naturally given into him, and that habit stays strong even after all these years. you think he knows that too.

it’s with upmost hesitance that you turn around.

you’re not sure what to do.

he’s a sight for sore eyes. healing, beautifully transparent. a dear smile, inviting you closer. or more like a predator awaiting it’s prey. your body is giving you every negative cue, yet your legs stay in place, submissive to his presence that’s been so horrendously missed.

he a little looks older. or maybe that’s just the unfamiliar sight of all his hair down.

“hi.”

a part of you thinks that if you ignore him for long enough, he might disappear. leave you alone, as he’s chosen to do before. he’s lost the right to be welcomed.

fury is really the only emotion you could accurately pinpoint. you hate how soft he speaks. you hate it more than anything.

if you could stomach it, you’d ask him to close his eyes and turn the other direction. you’ve always been weak when he looks at you so intently, as if studying you to the finest detail. but you refuse to be the one to look away first - you selfishly crave his attention more than you value your own self-respect.

and as suguru looks at you, he thinks you’ve made it impossibly more difficult to do anything but beg for undeserving forgiveness. he’s staring at reflective streams, seeing as they slowly trail down your face. it must feel nice to be falling tears, symbolic of raindrops returning to the ocean. he’d like to sit in front of the ocean again. with you, being careless teenagers just for a little longer. but the ocean brings back bitter memories and the thoughts of a certain brunette child, so he refrains from thinking further.

“… don’t cry.”

it’s not a command of any sort, but instead a quiet plea. you’re too pretty for tears. too pretty for pain, too pretty for this unfair life he’s plagued you with.

he watches your eyes visibly widen, and your hand raises quickly, using your sleeve to wipe remnants of your intense emotions. it stains your skin a bit red from how roughly you move, lashes dismally coated with the aftermath.

“i’m not—“ and you huff, your throat feeling tight. your head bows by instinct, and you shake it firmly. you press your palms to your eyes for a few seconds, pushing harshly, as if the pressure could ease some of the shock, or ground you in any way. “i’m not fucking crying.”

cautiously, suguru nods. he’ll play into you, listen to everything you say even if it’s not entirely truthful. anything to make his appearance less daunting and harmful. he waits for you to speak, knowing the sound of his voice may not be as pleasant as he had hoped. he’s not sure what he was expecting.

battered already, in so much internal sorrow you might collapse, you breathe as deeply as you are able to. it shakes, and you opt to biting your lip instead.

harrowing disbelief is tainting your skin and bones, and it feels hopeless to even try understanding why he’s here. waltzing right back into your life, bewitchingly present. words linger, staying on the tip of your tongue as you internally battle yourself to release them. release you.

the air smells like rain. and you think — all this anger, it was once was love.

“i hate you.”

and there’s a frown on your lips, trembling as you try to muster up all of the loathe, resentment, and frustration into those three words.

it fails. because the admission is not of truth — if anything, it’s guilt. for the sole reason that you know your feelings stand the exact opposite.

you hate suguru for leaving you. not him as a person; him as a thought. a thought that consistently runs rampant through your mind, adding fuel to a prevalent fire that refuses to be extinguished. and you imagine that he likes that he still has that effect on you, because the hauntingly serene smile he holds doesn’t even falter, not for a second.

you’re forced to stare at him with that expression, and it feels wickedly taunting. not as comforting as it had before.

“that’s alright.”

it’s all he puts out into the air, and that gentle tone he holds kinda makes you want to hit him. he’s not like satoru — you’re sure he’d let you. but suguru can sense your agonizing heartbreak. he’d sense everything about you with his eyes closed. and he feels guilty for making you reopen old wounds, but he’s unaware that they’ve never been given a chance to properly heal.

geto suguru sees a little bit of you in everything lovely. the sun shining in the morning, the smiles on two pretty little girl’s faces, the moon casting a dim halo over the world at night.

you’ve only become a greater treasure. one to be cherished, to be adored. he’s missed you in his sight more than anything. you’re still a angel on earth, incredulously beautiful. even with tears, even with that despaired look on your face. he’s fighting every urge in his body to not step closer and mend your broken self.

he’d like to run his fingers over your soul and pour his love into each crack he finds.

“give me a few minutes. that’s all i need.”

he’d prefer an eternity. but he thinks that he’s asked for something reasonable.

it’s expected when you scoff, glaring daggers with blurry vision. but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

suguru can take it. he deserves it.

“please.”

the distaste on your face refuses to falter.

you crave to love without it having consequences.

since when had caring become so much of a burden? it’s evil, honestly. maybe stone-cold was the way to go. nanami might be on to something.

“stop this, suguru.” you whisper, hand sliding down your face in frustration as you let out a bitter sigh that lacks any amusement. “leave me alone.”

he savors the way his name sounds on your tongue, the drawn-our syllables holding the same familiar care of nearly a decade ago. it feels longer, too much time spent away from you. it lightens his aura, makes his senses heightened in almost a feral way. you speak of him like fate.

old habits refuse to die, and he stays where he is, the same face of persuasion used as he outwardly refuses your answer.

“kill me, then.” he shrugs, and he thinks he might actually die from the way your frown falters into shock once again. his smile twitches, nearly threatening to downcast.

it should be what you do.

suguru was a dead man. that fact hadn’t slipped your mind. you remember when satoru saw him, in the flesh, after the sentence. he couldn’t bring himself to kill him then, and you could briefly recall the look on his face when you softly told him you could eventually do it if he wasn’t able to. that solemn twinge, knowing something you wouldn’t admit out loud.

because satoru knew, better than anyone around, that if you went through with it, it would break you past the point of repair.

suguru, seemingly satisfied with your stillness, steps a bit closer.

it kinda feels like doom. you think the world may stop for a moment, and that all the bad things in life will come and finish you off. that death will take your hand, guiding you, kinder than anything that’s ever really touched it. because what it’s held before has cursed it.

when his hands reach up, you expect a knife in the throat — any consequence for the stupidity of your compliance. but the blades are soft, and they raise to hold your face. gently, as if earning the trust of a stray kitten. because they’re not blades, they’re his hands. he feels you shaking against them. and it’s odd that all tranquility really needs is a certain sight; reassurance in the form of a graceful being who has been absent for too long. you don’t move. you’re unable to. instead, you stare, taking in a lost future. hair you used to brush yourself, eyes that would watch you with such visible adoration. they still do, and that realization alone has your head hurting.

you feel his thumb wipe below your eye, and it feels cold over your heated skin. suguru sighs, his eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly.

“you’re very beautiful.”

it’s spoken almost hopelessly, as if the admission physically hurts for him to say. in a way, it does. he’s let go of one of the last devotions to you that he’s kept bottled inside of him, because he knows this might be the last time he sees you. he has to let everything go. you need to know what he thinks of you, how important you are. how he’s submitted his soul to the disaster of loving you since you were teenagers.

by the way his eyes narrow, and his pupils grow just a tiny bit bigger, your eyes widen, and you’re pushing him away instantly.

you know what comes next. you’re able to predict it before it’s able to horrifically conjure itself out loud.

“no, suguru.”

he follows after you, a firm yet gentle hold on your forearms stopping you from completely leaving. you’re already shaking your head, biting your lip as it threatens to quiver. he’s trapping you, and he knows he’s already won.

“let me.” he coos, rubbing the skin of your trembling limbs. and you try to convince yourself that you shouldn’t sympathize, or fall for that sweet, missed voice of his. how he’s just a stranger you unfortunately know everything about. to ignore gentle aura you’ve missed so much that you felt as though you’ve never been able to get a grip on the pain in your chest. “let me say it.”

you’re not built for this, not capable enough to take another harrowing blow.

“leave — fucking, leave.” you seethe, frantically attempting to pull your arms back, though his hold has gotten stronger, and the fight that you have left in you is quickly diminishing by the second. there’s a moment — the tiniest sliver of time — where you stumble, and you’re being pushed closer to him before you can blink.

“you don’t want me to.” suguru shakes his head, eyeing you carefully as you stop your movements. it’s declarative.

you’d like to slap him. knock some common sense into his head because, obviously. you never wanted him to. not when you were sixteen, not now, not ever.

it’s just defense. because you cruelly know that letting him in will just make everything worse. walls were needed for protection, even if the doors are halfway open.

his hands find themselves cradling your face once more, and he’s pulling you, a small gap being the only distance left between a terrible decision. you’re subconsciously following, body keen on obeying his every move. his gaze feels a little intrusive, looking so intently you have the urge to turn your head and close your eyes. your breath is shaky, and you feel a little light-headed.

you wonder if anyone else in the world has ever loved someone this terribly.

hastily, your hands place themselves on his chest with an attempt to push him away, but they stay pliant. you look at him, incredulously.

“what is wrong with you?”

it’s clear when his expression darkens a little, and he dejectedly looks to the side. you catch his eyes widening a bit, the harshness of your tone foreign, because you’ve only ever spoken to him with such tender care. you’re spewing out words with cracks in your voice, nearly whispering because you’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll truly start a storm.

“you… you kill people, leave me — leave everyone — and then…” your eyes close, and you feel the liquid trailing down your cheeks again before you’re able to stop it. you can’t finish your sentence, too busy holding your breath to calm a threatening sob.

it feels like you’re sixteen again, and everything is crumbling.

his arms move slowly as they wrap themselves around you, and you feel even more inclined to cry when he presses your head against his chest. like he’s done dozens of times before. he sucks, the world sucks. this comfort is long overdue, and you still can’t find it in yourself to complain, simply succumbing to the pressure of his presence. you’d like to hug your younger self. because she needed this, even if it can’t really count as closure. even if you currently felt your knees buckling from beneath you.

“i wish i could take away the pain, pretty girl.”

suguru won’t give you false apologies. he only feels guilt for causing you harm. he dislikes how pain looks on your face, and he wants to tell you that he’s unable to sleep at night without you, that every day is a challenge. that truthfully, the ache is mutual. but he has something to accomplish, and you stand on opposing sides.

the two of you are stubborn people.

“take it,” you tremble, and your arms are already around him, despite the screams in your mind. he feels safe. he feels like everything and more. “please, please, take it.”

the pleading in your voice makes suguru feel horribly ill, and he tightens his grip on you, not really knowing what else to do.

it’s worse when you’re the perpetrator. the criminal, the evil. he wonders what your life might have looked like without him in it — how happy you could have been. should’ve been.

but there’s been bad things — events that he’s sure might had ended horrifically differently without his existence.

he wonders how your scar looks, now.

suguru’s fingers are firm as they reach below your chin, and he forces your eyes to meet once more. they’re red and glossy, but still undeniably captivating. he’d like to look at them forever.

“i would, if it were that easy. i promise you.”

you believe him. it could be from the genuine strain in his voice, or your muddled brain that’s clawing to escape your own head. what good is a healthy mind?

he’s saying your name again, and it’s quieter this time. more intimate. you don’t cower, you stay, even huddling the tiniest bit closer. you’ve given up on composure, you’ll let him selfishly have you. besides, it feels nice when he’s treating you so delicately. hands ghosting over your cheeks, eyes that admire your desperate, sad ones. you don’t stop him this time, numbly prepared for the aftermath.

he pauses, trailing his thumb over your jaw, and swallowing thickly. he’s never quite looked normal. always too perfect in comparison to everything else. he smiles, and you see a hint of something that you can’t really classify as full joy.

“i love you.”

the world doesn’t end.

you’re still looking at him, thinking that it will for a moment. instead, you see bashful pink.

‘i love you’ is such a tricky sentence. it’s powerful, meaningful, and could also be a lie. the power of speech is that there really are no limits, and you suppose that’s what makes bad people. sometimes.

he toys with the collar of your shirt, briefly, and lets out a breath of amusement through his nose. suguru feels lighter. and simultaneously horrible. he tilts his head, barely, his voice quiet.

“will you let me kiss you? even if you hate me?”

there’s a little teasing in that sentence, and he nudges his nose across the side of your face affectionately. you’re unaware of how hard his heart beats against his chest as soon as he asks.

you’re sixteen once more, and you’re silently nodding before you’re able to think further.

you’re imagining fairytales you can’t believe in.

it’s hard to determine how long you’ve thought about it. his lips on yours. your hands are in his hair and on his face nearly immediately. you’d trade a lot of things to be this close for longer — you wish to be combined. and he’s soft. he’s so soft you dread taking your hands off of him. if heaven was a place on earth, it’d be this.

pitiful.

he tastes sweet, like a forgotten dream. butterflies suffocate your insides as you stand, and your knees feel a little weaker. suguru is a bit impatient with his movements, hands trailing down your sides to squeeze and caress. his touch feels hot and is hastily done, but gentle nonetheless. you feel his lips curl up against yours, and your stomach flips.

you rather not pull away. pulling away brings back reality, and fantasy is really all you want. if you kiss him a bit harder, and close your eyes a little longer, you’re able to stay.

he pulls back first.

you’re breathing heavy, eyes wide as they bore into his. he might be the most precious thing in your life, and you’re not sure if you’re able to let him go. you’re afraid that you’ll love him forever, and that you’ll never be in the same place again. this feels cruelly temporary, and you know it is. by the way his expression settles, and the way he repeats those three words so quietly, it’s meant for only you to hear. a fact.

“i love you.”

you swallow thickly, in a haze that’s caused just by his very being. a drug-like addiction, and you feel so content it’s like you’re home.

suguru knows you won’t say it back. and in all honesty, he prefers it that way. it’s what’s best. what matters most is that he knows you mean to. he’s able to read that lovestruck wonder on your face so easily it makes him warm. it was both a relief and horror to be known so perfectly. you, who still wears your heart on your sleeve. he’s forever grateful that you’ve always been so giving, so selfless when it comes to him. he feels as though he abuses your sweet compassion.

you tug on his sleeve.

“we can work something out.” you whisper against him, and suguru knows he’s gone too far. he’s tensing, and his eyes are anxious, a small shake of his head contrasting your nods. “i’m yours. i’m yours before anything else.”

heart, mind, body, soul. you’re bonded for life, and you’ve known that since you were young.

“oh, no, baby.” suguru hurriedly answers, and the desperation in your voice, the way you clutch on to him a little tighter, has his head reeling. he’s panicking. “you’re better where you are, sweet girl.”

you know his mind is made up, that it’s fruitless to try, but you’re so blinded by desires that you don’t even care that you’re begging him. he’s mean, doing this to you. there is no ultimatum or other decision - this is it. you’re just destined to be separate, and that hurts to realize, so you’re glad he’s cushioning the blow. just enough for you to keep standing.

suguru is complicated. he hates that he is, he hates what his life has brought him (the only exception being the beauty of the people in his past; you included), but he’s certain that you’re safer as it is. golden and pure. with satoru, with shoko. and you’re strong. you’re so strong he can’t put it into words.

maybe he had some reasonable motives — riko’s death, yours and satoru’s near deaths, haibara’s death — but they’ve shaped him. shaped you, more, as it seems. you continue your life, even after it’s been tainted red, and blackened with misery. satoru, the same. you can take a bit more. you’ve gone through the worst of it. at least — it’s what he selfishly tells himself.

it was stupid to come see you. kiss you, at that. but he can’t bring himself to regret even slightly. if he’s considered evil, barbaric, he’ll gladly take the titles if it meant spending more moments with you. it’s cruel, not malicious.

you’re still his person. but he can’t have you fully — at least, not in this lifetime.

suguru isn’t really sure he could pass on the torch so easily. to give you up completely — the most ultimate sacrifice. where there would be a possibility of his replacement, and the loss of his heart. he can’t trust anyone with loving you; no one can really love you like he does. he’ll take pride in that.

“you’re going to live a long, happy life.” suguru quietly assures, nudging his nose against yours. your eyes are tightly shut, overall avoidant. this might be a nightmare, if you believe hard enough. “find someone who loves you, and you easily will, do everything-“

“i don’t want anyone else.” you interrupt, eyes narrowing as they open, like the idea is something of the unthinkable. “you’d be stupid to think i do.”

this might be worse than unrequited love, you think. every feeling is mutual, besides the belief that you should be together. he’s the bane of your existence. and that kills.

suguru is reasonable. you understand his refusals, why the two of you can’t be — how immaturely you’re thinking about this. you can’t leave your life behind for him, it’d be asking for your own death sentence and the loss of everything left that’s good in your life.

you can’t create a cycle, as much as it pains for you to come to terms with.

“i can’t have you, pretty girl.” suguru sighs, trying to ignore the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit. he’s growing desperate in persuasion, but even he falls flat against the situation. “i want to, so bad, but it’s not right. we’re not right.”

your chest feels tight as you stare up at him.

you wonder, truly, if he’s aware of all the turmoil he’s caused; that he’s let happen, because he never even came back to offer a mere shoulder for support. he simply left you in the dust.

it hurts to hear, especially coming from lips that had been pressed so wonderfully against yours. you still can’t bring yourself to hate him.

you used to fear irrational ideas. that if you let someone in, take care of you, you wouldn’t really be yourself anymore. independency never worked well, and you’ve strung on a bit too hard to a knight in shining armour. a being like icarus, who’s flown too close to the sun. you were right, it seems.

you’ve lost, and it kills to realize.

bitterly, you remember hearing some time ago that ‘it gets easier.’ or better. it’s been repeated to you, multiple times. the reality is, you’re not too sure. what gets easier is maybe the coping. but even that is still evil and painful.

hopeless, you stand, and your voice feels hoarse.

“… suguru?”

how can you hate something so natural? when it feels as though those syllables are meant to be spoken in repetition. his name means excellence; to surpass all.

suguru looks at you, eyes previously occupied with gazing upwards to avoid an act of human emotion. they mirror yours, glossy and faintly red. no visible tears. he has the self-control you lack.

but you can be a little selfish.

“can you…” you take a deep breath, and lean a little forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck to escape a reaction. if he feels the liquid of your tears, he doesn’t comment on them. he’s awfully warm. you’d like to lay in bed with him under a summer sun again. you’re trying to force every part of him into your memory while he’s pressed to closely against you. how his hair tickles your neck, the security of his loving arms keeping you from physical harm, how pretty he looks up close.

it’s not greedy to ask for a final request, you think.

“can you stay with me, then? for a few more minutes?”

an innocent question, while he’s been nothing but cruel. despite everything, you’re still you.

it reminds him of his youth. when you and satoru would get into playful arguments, gaining a few steps on him, only for you to turn back and check that he was still there. or when you would return from missions, him being the first person you looked for every time, just to let him know you came back safely.

sometimes, you’d come back a bit battered up, and instead of confiding in shoko for help like any other person would, you trusted him with treating the wounds. all natural, because that meant you got to spend more time together. human bodies are fragile things. he realized the true extent of that after toji. you really can’t take anything for granted.

so it’s really no wonder why he fell in love with you. why he came to fully accept it. and his belief stands strong — anyone would. angels are irresistible, he finds. he would sometimes see wings.

suguru’s glad you can’t see his face. because maybe then, you’d catch the sight of a reflective shimmer trailing down his cheek.

the embodiment of your dreams, hopes, and desires holds you so gently, a little tighter now. he nods against you, but it feels disconnected, because he’s faded into darkness that has already consumed him. too far gone.

time is nothing for now.

and you wonder if it actually does get better, or if everyone is just lying to you.

•••

september, 2018.

“sensei?”

blinking slowly, you immediately straighten at the sight of three towering figures above your relaxed position.

there’s a panic that sets in at the recognition of how watery your eyes feel, and your head turns in an instant to cough awkwardly, avoiding their stares.

it’s around noon, judging by how pleasantly the sun shines through the window, and how awake your students look. yuji liked to sleep in sometimes.

“did i zone out for a bit?” you mindlessly chuckle, the words feeling a little strange on your tongue. you might have a migraine from how much your head is hurting. “i didn’t get too much sleep last night, sorry guys.”

your smile radiates a reassuring warmth, and the concern on their faces leaves by the time you look back at them. if jujustu didn’t work, maybe you could take up acting.

“we finished the warmups you instructed!” nobara beams, short hair flowing after her as she proudly stands. she glances at yuji, her eyes narrowing. “well, me and fushiguro did.”

yuji shoves her.

nobara has always reminded you of rough recovery rooms and gentle curing hands. it makes you a bit nauseous, the nostalgia of it all.

the sight of the whole trio sometimes felt like daggers digging into your heart, stabbing greedy wounds into open gashes before they have a chance to heal.

brighter days for them, a dull ache for you.

“you weren’t awake yet-“

“i told you to wake me up!”

“you did not!”

yuji and nobara bicker for a second, and you feel a little overwhelmed.

because since these two have set foot on campus, they had seemed oddly familiar. unbeknownst to them, but relentlessly distressing for you. you’re silent as you observe, the uncomfortable pit in your stomach staying clear as day. stubborn, because that’s only natural for you.

more than a decade has passed — nearly three years since your last encounter, almost a year after his death, and yet here you are. the hurt just as strong, because you’ve realized that the pain will never fully go away, and you suppose you’ll have to adapt to living with it forever.

but you’re grateful. though you couldn’t go back to the way things were, you have a chance at stopping the cycle. after all, you know little about what the future has in store for them.

you hope it’s kind. you want those grins to stay permanently, for their youth and innocence to linger for as long as possible. because you never had that luxury. the end of your purity was far too quick, adult emotions flooding your senses. you’d do anything to keep them from feeling like you.

plus, you’re allowed to grieve over the child you could’ve been.

“alright, alright,” you blink, interrupting them before their voices can get any louder. they immediately quiet down, turning to you expectantly. it freaks you out a little.

you were still relatively new to whole teaching thing, not used to being followed so attentively. it felt weird to give orders — to have them be listened to, really. satoru was more of a natural, his cheekiness benefitting him perfectly. even if the students found him undeniably strange.

“give me ten minutes and i’ll meet you outside.” you wave a hand, pointing to yuji. “and sorry kiddo, you’re doing some laps for getting up late.”

you fight a smile as you witness a pout form on his lips, nobara’s laugh drowning out his whining. you’d probably only make him run one, but it was always amusing to lie to his face. you adored yuji — he was a bundle of joy graciously given to the universe. it’s pure luck that he ended up with you.

you watch as nobara drags him out, your head resting on your palm, softly chuckling. they complimented each other well. like siblings, you think.

your head turns, finally facing eyes that hadn’t strayed away from you since you woke up from your daydream. it's like a sixth sense now. you know when he's looking at you, when he seems genuinely bothered. it took time to know him. he’s a hard shell to crack.

“you don’t get special privileges, megs.” you snort, motioning your head towards the door. “go join them, i just need some time to wake up.”

megumi looks unimpressed (and honestly, when does he not?), sighing softly before coming closer. the cushion beside you sinks as he sits, and you raise a brow questionably. his voice is blunt, quiet as it fills the room.

“you think too much.”

it surprises you a little, but you’ve come to learn that megumi is rarely predictable, and to always expect the unexpected.

“do i?” you muse, your smile visibly weakening as you softly laugh.

he was too aware of everything, perception like no other. he reminded of you of suguru sometimes, behavior so nonchalant in comparison to the rest of the world. they were both silent observers.

megumi nods, and you realize he’s rather close, only a few inches away from grazing your skin. touch was something megumi struggled with growing up, so you never pushed it on him; you hated making him uncomfortable, while satoru could care less. the giant didn’t understand boundaries. but sometimes, movie nights in his adolescence led to him latching on to you in his sleep. he had his moments.

it makes the action of his hand raising, pressing your head into his shoulder, much more meaningful.

“don’t think.”

megumi’s never been one for melodramatic situations. growing up, he’d used to complain when tsumiki would force him to watch disney movies with her, getting visibly annoyed when he’d spot her tears during more heartfelt scenes. you never brought up the fact that he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder (you secretly wonder if that’s why he’s doing that now), or would rub her back. megumi’s not kind, per say, but he knows how to secretly love (in his own, strange way. similar to satoru), and you think that’s more important than anything.

“that’d be cool.” you sigh, closing your eyes. your eyelids feel heavy on your face, and you try not to get too comfortable, remembering that you’d have to get up in a few minutes. “wish it were that simple.”

megumi hums, staring straight ahead.

your past is a secret to him, tightly kept in the confinements of your heart. and that's really the only hint he's ever needed to know that it still affects you. satoru, the same. he knew little about your lives before he came into the picture, only hearing bits and pieces when you and satoru would get a bit sleep-drunk and giggle about old memories. he's always tried his best to listen, soaking in any details he can. people are generally more honest and open when physically tired. it's why they confess things during late night conversations, and why the flow of words comes out more natural.

you were different from the idiot that had originally taken him in. megumi can scream from every rooftop that he hated gojo satoru (despite it being secretly untrue), but you? the mediator, who he looked up to more than anything? impossible, it’d be criminal.

maybe you disliked seeming hopeless in front of him, but he didn't mind that vulnerability. he wished you'd trust him with it more — that you knew he would never dream of judging you. he's not too well with words, or communicating, really, so he's also not too sure how to tell you. a double-edged sword.

"you're okay, though — right?"

his eyes glance downwards towards you, dark blue highlighting the inklings of concern. it's not awkward when he asks.

he has a heart, despite satoru's beliefs.

heart warmed, you grin, raising your head to look at him with crinkled narrowed eyes.

you find it funny how the world works. going in some strange, bittersweet chain of events because here you were, caring for the life of a dead man’s son while he had permanently tainted yours. and you're happy. not completely, but sun shines through. the blinds are halfway open.

something that had once seemed so dark has been becoming technicolor.

"yeah." you nod, sincerely, and pat his cheek gently, stifling a laugh when his face scrunches in silent disapproval. "thank you for asking. really."

his face gently pulls away from your touch, and you can tell he's slightly flustered, just a tad embarrassed at your small affection. you're grateful for him, unbelievably thankful for the bits of effort he's always put into caring about you (and tsumiki. and maybe the tiniest bit for satoru. tiny.). a true blessing.

gingerly, he stands up, hands in his pockets as he glances at you again, double-checking. you smile.

he only continues to walk towards the door when you give him a nod in reassurance.

you're left staring at your hands when he leaves, a soft sigh escaping your lips. some days are harder than others. it's the toss of a coin, no chances pre-determined. you simply wake up to the surprise every time.

admittedly, you miss the version of you that doesn’t really exist anymore. naive, but more open. fearless and valiant, only ever seeking improvement. you feel bitter that you took that time of your life for granted.

you’ve found that everything’s felt easier, though. something in the air is different.

“hey, did you leave the kids outside? it's hot out there and they're complaining like crazy-“

you hear footsteps come to a halt, and your head tilts up, finding satoru in it's vision. he stands in place by the door, eyes wide as he stares.

"hey," you nonchalantly wave, stretching to alleviate the soreness in your muscles. "i'll be out in a second."

you attempt to get up from your seat, but satoru ushers towards you, stopping you from successfully moving.

"woah, woah, woah — what’s got you so blue?” he asks, scanning over you briefly. there's a light-hearted smile on his face, and if you didn't know him well enough, you might have mistaken it for amusement. but it's down-casted slightly, and he's looking at you a little too intently.

you snort, rolling your eyes playfully, “i’m not blue.”

satoru blinks, unappreciative of the response that he can only justify was from being around him too often.

“fine — what’s wrong with you?” he corrects himself bluntly, crossing his arms. your eyes follow him as he takes a seat beside you, and you internally sigh, thinking about how you’ve left your three students to perish under the sun.

you wave a hand dismissively, "nothing.”

“aw, c’mon,” satoru drawls, and you have half a mind to complain when he sprawls himself over your lap, his eyewear pushed upwards and off his face as he looks up at you. the blue twinkles, even under the fluorescent lighting. “you’ve never been a good liar.”

“okay, now that’s a lie. a bad one.” you scoff, poking his nose. “i’m a talented actress. oscar worthy.”

he playfully winces, narrowing his eyes at you. “no one’s ever been honest with you before, huh?”

“who needs opinions?” you roll your eyes, nudging his head softly. “it’s all about self-love now.”

“yeah, yeah,” satoru whistles, peering up from one eye, the other closed as he visibly relaxes against you. “see how far that takes you.”

you gasp dramatically, “mean.”

the corner of his lips quirks up, and his familiar smirk returns.

banter was natural with satoru. it was hard to take anything seriously with him around.

he brings joy in mundaneness.

“you shouldn’t trust megumi, y’know.”

confused, you pause, looking at him questionably.

“why?” you ask, and you’re internally conflicted as you attempt to recall every recent memory in your head that’s a classified secret. or, something you’ve generally told megumi as of late. nothing comes to mind.

“dunno. he told me something was wrong with you when i walked past him right now.”

your eyes widen, and you groan, head falling back against the couch’s soft exterior.

traitor.

“so,” satoru continues, and his voice is softer, a little more serious. “really — what’s wrong?”

it’s always been pointless to beat around the bush with satoru. he’s impatient, immature, and wonderful. a bad mix that makes you wonder how it’s even possible that he’s generally likable.

“nothing.” you emphasize, rubbing your head in slight annoyance. “he’s making it up.”

you rather not have this conversation. not while the air is half-hearted, and everything has been steady. but he’s right there. and it might not hurt as much as you think it will.

satoru gawks, mouth open, before poking you harshly. “now you’re calling our son a liar? low blow.”

you huff, “he went lower by betraying me.”

a beat of silence.

“so he was right?” satoru blinks, and he’s sitting up hesitantly, awaiting your voice, or a movement. anything to confirm.

“will you leave me alone if i say no?”

“no? you just admitted he wasn’t lying.”

“oh. yeah.”

you’re smiling lightly, faintly awful because you’re not too sure how wise you’re being. maybe this was only the mature option.

“um… i was just thinking. about him.”

you hadn’t really spoken much about last december. there was no tension or anything — it was just a touchy subject for the both of you.

satoru had more right to be bothered.

you expect his expression to drop — for it to grow uncomfortably quiet, leaving you to voice a regretful apology. you’ve rarely seen satoru break. his joyous front is him in natural form. sorrow doesn’t look right on his face.

he’s only been at his worse around you. and that’s a fact that binds you for life, as dismissive as you two seem to act about it.

angels carry weights off your shoulders, and satoru smiles a little. albeit, visibly bittersweet, but a smile.

“we do that a lot, don’t we?”

he’s stupid, annoying, and infuriating when he looks at you like that. as if you two are similar, and he knows how to ice the bruises on your back.

(he does.)

geto suguru is an enigma. is, because even in death, he’s found a way to stay alive. he lives in memories; in thoughts that keep both of you awake at night.

“i guess i just …” you trail off, staring at the floor. you’d be okay with living the rest of your life by satoru’s side. he’s peace, and he knows you tenderly.

you exhale, a small bitter chuckle leaving your lips.

“i don’t know what to do with all the love i have for him.” you admit, arms laying flat as you shrug with a despaired smile that makes satoru feel a little hollow. your hands flow freely, motioning for a few moments before resting back in your lap. “i don’t know where to put it.”

you haven’t known in years. it’s bundled up, suffocating your insides and exhausting your soul. he’s too well tangled with it.

a lot was left unsaid.

answers you crave, questions that will forever follow.

“i’ll take it.”

satoru grins, and you have to bite back a smile from how infectious his expression is. it radiates sunshine.

you feel his warm hands cup over yours, and he gently rubs across your knuckles with his thumbs, soothing that isolating cold. “you can give it to all of us, actually. but more for me.”

he’s silly, and he’s everything and more.

you wonder if you would’ve made it through without him. he’s impacted your life so heavily, you can’t imagine a world void of his presence.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you mumble, smile ever-so-visible as you playfully nudge him. satoru nods feverishly.

“i’d adore it.” he’s beaming like the cheshire cat, and your expression falls flat as you await whatever idiotic words would flow out of his mouth next. he brings a finger to his chin and hums.

“you know what, though? maybe give some extra to megumi. but i’m not really sure any love could save that kid. not even a mother’s. he's creepy, i'm telling you-“

“satoru.”

he innocently smiles, eyes closed. “just a suggestion.”

you playfully roll your eyes.

it’s all romanticism until it truly hurts. love seems so small, so trivial, when you’re not being affected.

satoru hides his grief better than you ever could. he copes uniquely, and you suppose his way may even help you a little.

they should invent a healing that is linear, you think. so you can’t fall behind, and you can be all-smiles too.

but you’re close enough.

just the right amount, actually.

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winterrrnight · 25 days

Text

writing more on this at 12.42 am at night cause I am really in my feels and I need this so bad… <3 listen to redbone by childish gambino at 3.47, trust me <3 cw: smoking weed, suggestive content (no actual smut, just a lot of intimacy), intentional use of lower case <3 for @congratsloserr <3 (ily bb 🌷) <3 pictures are just for reference and to help you imagine what I have in mind!

part of this little universe <3

you don’t remember how it happened.

your best friend rafe came over like all the other times he comes over at your place. you sit next to each other in your bed as you play music, just like all the other times. you both share a joint, just like all the other times.

but this time, there’s something different in the air. maybe it’s the new cologne he’s started wearing which is taking a toll over your brain, or maybe it’s the white t-shirt showing off his formed biceps, or maybe it’s the dim, pink lighting of the led lights you just installed; but whatever it is, here you are, sitting in his lap with your legs on either side of his waist, your face nuzzled in his neck, and the sensual instrumentals of redbone are filling the background.

if anything, it’s only elevating the moment more and more. the joint hangs limply in between rafe’s lips as his head remains tilted to the other side, his eyes closed as your lips press soft, saccharine kisses to his heated skin, your hands holding his face. his eyes remain closed, the current moment heightened not only from your deeply intimate touch, but from the thc hazing his and your mind.

his hands remain firmly planted at the sides of your waist, lifting your t-shirt up just a bit so he can feel that soft skin under his touch. deep exhales leave his nose, the pungent, skunky odor of weed surrounding you both in its cloud as you remain wrapped up in the moment.

his fingers press into your skin and a sigh escapes him as he feels your lips slowly travel to his throat, his head leaning back against the headboard to grant you as much skin as he can. your lips trail up and up, finding his chiseled jawline as you press kisses along the strong bone, making your way up to his cheek, and then finally his lips.

you hover over his lips for a second, gently tracing his bottom lip with your thumb and he looks at you through his lashes, your gentle touch being just about the best thing at the moment as the thc creeps more and more into his brain.

you slot the joint in his lips between your index and middle finger and slowly slide it out of his mouth, before letting your own lips wrap around the end. you take a deep, long drag and flutter your eyes shut as you throw your head back, letting the smoke roll off your lips.

rafe watches you, so entranced by every movement of yours, and the melody of redbone only makes him crave more and more. you bring your head back to his level, meeting your own dreamy gaze with his as you pull the joint out of your mouth, and lean in closer to him.

there is merely a few inches of distance between you two, and he knows he can’t control himself anymore; causing him to push his lips against yours. you adjust yourself in his lap so you’re even closer to him, your fingers gently circling his shoulders through his t-shirt as your lips slowly move against his, the taste of the mint lip balm he always uses along with the weed spilling onto your own tongue, sending you in a high beyond euphoric than the one provided by a simple blunt.

— —

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my writing is really a social experiment lately as I’m trying out different things, so any sorts of feedback is really highly appreciated!! <3

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thisismeracing · 1 month

Text

Just like in the movies | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x actress!reader ― Warnings: curse words and typos; innacurate race schedule. ― Summary: You're shooting a new movie about racing cars, but you did not expect to get a racing heart from a certain driver. (based on this request).

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, chrisevans, and others

yourusername behind the scenes 😜

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formulafan not her trying to be sneaky and hide the cap's number

iguser_ I just now this about to be one of the best movies of the year!

monzayn can you imagine watching the behind-the-scenes live? 😭😭😭

leclainz not charles on the likes lol

⤷ szasaturn he's just like me trying to flirt

tifosilew for the first time I'm super happy with Ferrari's random partnerships bc that way we get to see yn creating her new motorsports fan personality 🙏🏻

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, and others

charles_leclerc what can I do when she's the one who makes my heart beat fast Ferrari? 😮‍💨❤️

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liekdbypierregasly I GOT THE REFERENCE, I GOT IT!!

yourusername I had no idea the hard launch would be hard like this

⤷ yourusername I love it though, Ily

⤷ yourusername il predestinato to have my heart ❤️

⤷ lecred she's just like us fr LOL

lewishamilton 💜 trully happy for you guys

fan4416 not the converses and the I heart my gf shirt IM GONNA CRY

kpopandcars I neeed my own charles leclerc, it's a must now!

anyonebutferrari this post just healed my broken heart and solved all my problems

hamiltontifosi they fell in love just like in the movies I- brb I'm gonna cry myself to sleep :')

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! It was kinda short, but hopefully worth the reading :D let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids @khaylin27 @bernelflo @fakehappy27

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

― Reminder: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

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daisynik7 · 8 months

Note

the scowl nanami had in the trailer reminded me of the safeword audio, it’s definitely his reaction when finds out you’ve been touching yourself without his permission 😩

Anon, you are SO RIGHT, and for that, I wrote a little something. In case anyone is curious, THIS is the audio anon is referring to (reddit link, 18+). It is SO GOOD. It actually gets so tender and sweet at the end, but I did not recreate that for this little piece LOL. Anyways, ily anon for your brilliant brain. I love the idea of getting caught in the act, I am SO here for it. Also, I’m going feral over mean!Nanami. This is barely edited or proofread. This is a result of my carnal desires for him taking over my fingers without a care in the world. I’m throwing feminism out the window temporarily for this, sorry ancestors. MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

You’re well into your third climax of the night, the vibrator buzzing on the lowest setting on your swollen clit, the exquisite sensations resonating down to the tips of your toes. You’re so sensitive now, basically mush puddled in the sheets, skin damp with sweat, arousal smeared over your loins. There’s nothing playing in the background; no porn, no nsfw audios, not even a dirty picture displayed on your phone screen. All that you have to get you off is the memory of Nanami railing you into the mattress, the same one you’re currently drenched in your slick, pumping his cock in and out of your wet cunt. That’s all you need to get your pussy throbbing, skin prickling, belly fluttering.

He's not home yet, still out on a mission with Gojo, doing what he does best: protecting people. Is it unfair that he has to work this hard, risking his life, while you’re twisting in the bedsheets, squirming with pleasure from a handheld toy? Maybe not. But what’s the harm in a little mindless release? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

Your eyes are shut tight as you descend from your high, vibrator shut off and teetering loosely in your hand, satiated and spent from tonight’s activities. You could fall asleep this instant, but there’s so much to clean up, all the evidence of your naughty deed that you don’t want your husband to discover without explanation. As you’re about to rise up out of bed, you hear the familiar jangle of keys unlocking the front door. Startled, and still a slippery mess, you quickly wipe off the toy, shoving it beneath the pillow. It’s not quick enough because just as you look up, Nanami is already standing at the doorframe of your bedroom, scowling.

Like a bit from a comedy movie, you twiddle your fingers innocently, completely naked and exposed on the bed. “Hi honey,” you greet, slowly pulling the covers over your body. You smile at him, acting like he hasn’t already caught you in the act. He doesn’t respond, expression serious. Dangerous.

Heat rushes into your cheeks, increasingly nervous by his lack of reaction. “Kento, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, sauntering towards you. “You tell me,” he mutters, sitting at the edge of the bed, studying you carefully.

You swallow loudly, mouth coated in your saliva. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh?” It sounds like he’s teasing you. Toying with you. You shudder with anticipation as he reaches over, hand slipping under the pillow, retrieving your vibrator. He waves it at you. “What’s this, then?”

Another noisy gulp before you answer, “My vibrator.”

His eyes narrow, his free hand tugging the blanket off you slowly, inspecting your body from your face, chest, then between your legs, squeezed together, hiding your arousal. “What were you doing while I was away?” he asks, resting his hands on your knees, spreading you apart. “Were you being a bad girl?”

There’s no need for a verbal answer, because as soon as his eyes fixate on your aching pussy, he already knows. “So, you have been a bad girl. Look at you, all wet and swollen already.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly as you hide your embarrassed face behind your hand, barely peeking at him between your fingers. “You didn’t even have the decency to clean up.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, limbs trembling, yearning for him to touch you.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” he repeats, mocking you. “You fuck yourself while I’m working and all you can say is sorry?”

“I – ”, you choke on your own spit, rendering you speechless.

“It seems that you forgot, so let me remind you one last time: This is my pussy. Not yours. Mine. You don’t get to play with it without my permission.” He sighs, hands sliding languidly down your thighs, prodding at the tender skin. “Such a dirty girl. What am I going to do with you?”

You moan, longing to feel his fingers, his cock, anything inside you. “Baby, please.”

He licks his lips, hungry eyes focused on your sopping cunt. “I guess it’s my job to clean up this mess.” He leans forward, tongue lapping at your sensitive bud, swirling circles around it, puckering his lips to suck. “Such a slutty pussy. So sloppy and wet for me.”

You squirm above him, pleasure stimulating your every nerve. “Fuck!” you cry out, lost in the ecstasy.

His low chuckle vibrates against your clit, pinched between his lips. “How many times did you come from this toy? Once? Twice?”

You grip his hair between your fingers, shoving his face deeper. “Three times!” you stutter.

“And you’re still so fucking horny for me, huh?” He slides his tongue up and down your folds, collecting your slick on his tongue, drinking you up. “I’m going to have to do better than that toy then for you to learn your lesson.”

The need to be used and manhandled by him overtakes you. It doesn’t matter how much you touched yourself earlier. All you can think about is how much you need to be touched by him. How badly you need his cock inside you. How insanely desperate you are for his cum to fill you up.

So you take it. Every lick, every suck, his fingers inside you, curled and hitting that sweet spot that only he can reach. His cock bullying you into submission, body weak and pliant from overstimulation, yielding to his every thrust like his own personal cock sleeve. All the while, he moans into your ear, constantly muttering the same reminder to you.

“This is my pussy. All fucking mine.”

#and with that I bid you all a goodnight and a good weekend! LOL #nanami smut #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader

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samandcolby-ownme · 1 month

Text

Summary: anon request - "y/n (she's dating Colby?) is with them when they finally go to the basement in the conjuring video and y/n tells him she went to the basement without them like how Sam did and he gets super upset/mad at her?"

This one shot will contain things some readers might find unsettling and/or triggering. PLEASE DONT READ IF THIS IS SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH!!

Warnings include: strong language, being alone in the conjuring house basement, reader being touched and spoken to, hair pulling, pushing, reader feeling like they're being controlled by spirits, reader having visions, angry Colby, mild fighting, arguing, mentions of puking, general spooky stuff - read with care my lovelies ily!

I will be using Sam and Colby's SAWATCH Part 3: The Basement as reference in this one shot but only for when the three go to the gravesite and then into the basement together. I will be adding some stuff in to make it flow since the reader is being written in, so everything won't be 100% accurate to the video itself.

Word count: little over 13.k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You don't know how Sam and Colby were asleep right now. You don't know why you even agreed to coming here for a few nights - if you can even last that long.

Maybe because you were more worried about Colby?

Maybe because you were actually really interested in the history that surrounds the house itself?

You were also an investigator. You'd think you'd be used to this stuff by now? But you're not. Nothing could have prepared you for what this house holds within the walls.

You sit up, glancing over at Colby who's softly snoring on his cot that, is in fact, under the table like he said he was going to do. You smile slightly as you lay back down, snuggling into your blanket.

You try to remind yourself that Abigail is there to protect you, and that helps, but only a little bit.

You suddenly felt a chill roll over your body, one that a few blankets wouldn't be able to calm.

"Y/n."

You slowly turn over on to your back, sitting up slowly, "Colby?" You whisper, but he doesn't move, "Sam?" He continues to lay there and you take a deep breath, realizing that it wasn't them who said your name.

"Y/n."

Your head tilts slowly as you watch a figure walk past the door frame, left to right, "Hello?" You call out quietly, but nothing answers.

Sam stirs in his sleep slightly, but nothing drastic.

Your eyes shoot back up to the door as you felt like you seen something in the corner of your eye, a face peaking around.

The spin chilling creak of a door opening slowly causes you to freeze, even your breath is held.

You stare at the dark opening for a few seconds before letting out the breath you've been holding.

You go to lay back down and you hear another whisper, "Go."

Your legs swing over the edge, feet planted flat on the floor as your hands move the blanket. Your stare is held on the darkness on the other side of the dimly lit door frame.

Mind on one thing. The basement.

You walk past Sam's cot, glancing back at Colby before slowly looking back into the darkness.

You know you shouldn't go down there at all, let alone by yourself.

Colby made you and Sam both promise not to go down there before going together. He even promised both of you that he wouldn't either.

As you round the corner, you stop as your eyes fixate on the specific door - that you know for a fact opened by something that wants you down there.

Are you going?

You wish you didn't, but you feel like you don't have any other choice.

You walk over to the door, placing a hand on the knob as you look around the door and down the lit stairwell.

Without taking another glance back towards the boys, you're heading down to the basement.

Alone.

But in reality. You're never alone when you're at the conjuring house.

You step gently on each step, careful not to make any loud noise. As you reach the small platform mid way, you stop, staring at the half lit room.

Part of you wants to turn around, high tail it back up the steps and go back to bed, but a bigger part of you wanted to try and get answers.

You wanted to know why, ever since you arrived, the basement has been - literally, calling your name.

You didn't want to give them, too much of your trust, no matter how human they sound.

"Abigail. Are you here with me?" You whisper, snapping your head to the table and chairs when a knocking sound comes from that area, "Knock again if that was you."

Another knock sounds and you walk over, slowly sitting down in the chair. Your eyes move from the well back to the table, "why am I here?"

"The woods."

Your body settles back into the chair and you get a sudden flash of the tree line, "The woods." You repeat, but in a much quieter tone, "Why?"

"Meet us."

You tilt your head, smiling slightly, "You're the trickster, Dave. Aren't you?"

It's silent for a few second, but then you're left in total darkness as the light turns off.

You can feel your heart rate pick up slightly, "I'm not going to the woods alone." Something clinks on the ground and you blow air through your nose, "Dave. Did you call me down here?"

You feel a light brush on your shoulder, but you don't jump. Something in you knew it was a loving touch, from Abigail.

"Do you want me to leave?" You lay your hands flat on the table, getting ready to stand up. A loud whisper in your hear causes you to sit right back down, "No!"

You close your eyes, slowly reopening them. You turn towards the direction of the stairs, staring for a few seconds before turning back to the table.

How did I get here, you think to yourself, but you already knew the answer to that.

Even though you were fully aware of what you were doing and what was happening around you, you didn't feel like you right now.

You knew you were sitting in the place you shouldn't be, but it's like you didn't have control over your mind and body.

As you're sitting there waiting for anything else to happen, you get a chill up your spine, and a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you cannot shake off.

You hear foot steps upstairs and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, waiting for either Sam or Colby to call for you, but nothing sounds.

As you turn your head, you get a quick vision of a soldier standing outside of the upstairs window, looking in.

"Are they watching Sam and Colby?" You ask and you can feel your hands start to shake. You wait for an answer but then it feels like you were released from your hold.

You shake your head and take a deep breath, "What am I doing here?" You stand up, laughing slightly as you turn to walk towards the steps.

Footsteps sounding behind you cause internal panic, now that you're.. yourself again.

You book it up the steps, quickly turning out to close the door and holding it closed for a few seconds before you turn and make your way back to where the boys were.

Still sound asleep.

You push your cot closer to Colby, what just happened in the basement haunting you. You lay down, facing him and basically bury yourself in the blanket.

Every little noise causes your body to jump ever so slightly.

Why did I do that?

Why did I break a promise?

It wasn't you, you try to convince yourself, it wasn't you.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You barely got any sleep the rest of the night. You were awake when you hear Sam stir around and sit up.

You closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Colby moves his arm from over your body and you pretend to stir. He brushes hair from your face, "Hey."

You open your eyes, pretending that you just woke up, "Mm, hi."

"Get scared last night?" Colby asks with a quiet chuckle and your heart starts to pound, "Yeah, I couldn't really sleep without being close to you."

He nods, "It's understandable." He leans in, pecking your forehead with his lips. You sit up, forcing a stretch before standing up to move your cot.

"How'd everyone sleep?" Sam asks slipping on his sweatshirt.

"I honestly don't think I woke up once." Colby stands up, stretching, "I think someone got a little spooked in the middle of the night."

He nods towards you and you laugh slightly, trying to cover up your nervousness, "Yeah. It was pretty creepy."

"Glad to know that there was a cuddle party going on while I was over here all alone, hot and ready for whatever wanted to drag me away." Sam holds his arms out, trying not to laugh, "What the fuck?"

Colby tilts his head, walking over and hugging Sam, "Oh I'm so sorry, brother. Come here." He squeezes him and you laugh, shaking your head as you grab your little travel bag and head for the bathroom.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You felt different all day and you were scared either of them would pick up on it, more Colby than anything.

You kept drifting off, thinking about everything that happened when you were down there. How you felt, what you heard.

You were torn between telling Colby and just waiting until they were done filming for the night, but at the same time, he'd probably find out regardless because of the cameras the owners have set up in the corners of the house.

So you decided it'd be better to tell him sooner rather than later, but that was going to have to wait as you were on your way to check out the graveyard.

You kept thinking about how mad Colby was going to be. He was going to be far from happy. You hated when you argued, which honestly wasn't that often, but you knew this was going to be a big one.

"Hey." Sam bumps into you, "You alright?"

You look up at him, "Oh yeah. I'm just anxious because of the woods and it being dark, ya know?"

He nods, "I know what you mean. I'm actually quite nervous myself." He chuckles and looks behind him, "You ready Colby?"

Colby walks up, wrapping his arm around your waist, "Yes." He nods, "I am."

You lay your head on his shoulder, taking in the happy Colby as much as you can before your words, eventually, ruin his mood.

Sam turns the camera on, light shining towards Colby as he walks forward, "Before we go to the grave site, we thought we'd stop where I talked to Dave, under the Estes method, earlier this week."

You follow behind them, shining your light on the trees. You feel like your eyes are playing heavy tricks on you, but after that night, you just felt like you were going nuts.

"So again." Colby's voice causes you to snap out of your thoughts and you walk up next to Sam as Colby continues talking, "After the past few days, we've heard the name, Dave." He points, "Specifically, super clear, on the Alice box, in the forest over there when we camped out. But, we were introduced to him right around these graves, so.."

Colby steps back, opening his arms as he moves around, looking side to side, "Dave.. if you're around, or any other soldiers. Feel free to follow if you can hear me."

"We have a long hike." Sam says and you groan, "Oh great."

Colby chuckles, "I mean the last investigation last night.." he looks at Sam, "Come find out? Thats like, the scariest thing they can say."

Sam laughs, "that's like, the most ominous thing any spirit has ever told us."

As you walk, you keep hearing things in the woods behind you, "Jesus fuck." You whisper, walking quicker to be closer to Colby.

He reaches his hand back, wiggling his fingers for you to take his hand.

You grip his hand, not letting go for anything. You shine your flashlight with your other hand and it starts to flicker before going out then turning right back on.

Sam and Colby stop, turning back to look at you then down to your flash light.

"I'm not even going to say anything." Sam says and you nod once, "please don't."

Colby squeezes your hand and you look up at him, smiling slightly at him, "You're good." He nods, "I got you."

That made you feel ten times worse.

You feel like you could puke.

Your nerves, between the basement and walking through the woods you were warned not to go into, were almost shot.

"Here's what scares me.." Colby starts out as he stops walking. You let go of his hand as Sam turns the camera to him, "Most of the spirits have these, like quiet knocks, but the one downstairs was way louder. It had more power. It had more energy, and we were on concrete."

"Last time we were.. in the woods, the only things we really heard was that it wanted to attack and stalk us.."

Sam's words cause your heart to beat faster - now you really felt like you were going to puke.

What if you're what they, the spirits, were attacking, stalking?

You feel dizzy, but you weren't sure if it was from the woods or just your guilty conscience.

".. man in the woods might be following us right now." Sam finishes and you lay a hand on your head, thinking that it might just be whoever Sam is talking about.

"Y/n." Colby's voice causes you to lift your head, "Are you okay?" He walks up to you and Sam shines the light on you, "What's going on?"

"I'm just.. dizzy right now." You shrug, "It started when Sam said they wanted to attack and stalk us."

Now you're just totally confused on why you're dizzy because there's a dozen things that could be causing your dizziness right now.

Colby wraps an arm around you, "Do you need to sit or anything?"

You shake your head, "It went away now, let's just keep moving." You motion forward and you all walk on.

A little bit later, you push through some brush and Colby shines his light, "Oh god. Where'd the path go?"

Sam turns around, "This is where we came from, but there's three paths."

"Pink ribbons right?" Colby asks and Sam nods, "Yeah I think, they're supposed to be pink ribbons."

"There's a blue ribbon over here." Colby shines his light and Sam walks down another path, "I can't see anything down here."

You follow Colby and he yells to Sam, "Oh, here we go. Here we go!"

"Pink?" Sam asks walking over and Colby nods, looking back towards him, "Yeah."

Colby grabs your hand, leading you down the path as Sam points the camera to the pink ribbon on the tree.

"It's like a river up here." Colby says, "Oh I remember this from two years ago!"

"Yeah isn't there some sort of.. like pond? Or something?" Sam asks and you stare at the ground, trying not to trip over the rocks that are sticking out.

"It's right there." Colby points and Sam nods, "Oh, oh oh yeah! I-I just remembered going to the side of that. So we just gotta figure out - Wait." Sam says and you jump slightly as he turns the camera towards you. You laugh, "Just frogs, Sam."

"Oh god, that scared the fuck out of me." Sam laughs slightly you guys keep walking.

"Okay so you said this way?" Colby points his flashlight and Sam nods, "Well, we just gotta get to the other side of this." He points, "If I remember."

As you're walking through trees, Colby shines his light, "Oh yeah pink ribbon."

"Pink ribb-" Sam stops, "Wait." You and Colby stop, both looking at Sam as he walks up to Colby, "What the fuck was that dude?"

Colby looks at him confused.

"I hear two of your voice, like in that research section.. where like, it echoed." Sam says and Colby looks out in front of him, "Hello?"

Sam pans the camera and you guys wait for a second before Sam shrugs, "I don't know, that was weird." He sighs, "Let's keep going."

"I don't know why I agreed to coming here." You shake your head, laughing. Colby stops waiting for you to catch up to him and he leans in, kissing your head as he gives you side hug, "You love the adventure."

You smile, nodding, "Yeah, I guess so."

After a little bit more walking, the feeling of it being just the three of you, quickly started to subdue.

"We are really in the middle of nowhere." Sam says and Colby blows out air, "We've been walking, guys, for like ten minutes maybe? Fifteen?"

"fifteen." Sam nods, "Yeah probably. I just checked though, we have zero service, too."

Sam pans the camera, "We are really out in the middle of the woods, alone."

Suddenly a noise from the woods catches all of your attention, getting you all to stop in your tracks.

"What the fuck was that?" Sam whispers and Colby shrugs, whispering quickly, "Wait, whoa whoa." He turns, pointing to the woods.

Sam steps around and you move close to Sam.

"What? What was that?" Sam whispers and Colby presses his finger to his lips before pointing, and staring out at the woods.

Sam pans the camera to the direction Colby's pointing.

All you hear right now is the crickets and buzzing of other insects.

You feel a slightly eerie feeling wash over your body and you take a quiet and slow deep breath.

Colby's stare is held on the woods as he brings his hand to the side of his neck, "Alright, let's just.. keep moving, I guess?"

You walk down the dark path, all on high alert.

The woods were scary, and being told not to go there was even scarier.

"I think I see it." Colby said and you feel a slight bit of relief, mainly because you were over walking right now.

"What?" Sam questions and Colby shines his light ahead of him more, "I think that is it up here."

"Oh fuck dude." Sam says and you and Colby stop and look at Sam.

"What?" You and Colby say in unison.

"This-this light just died." Sam says and you take a deep breath as you tilt your head back, "Great."

"You're lying." Colby says, walking up to Sam. Sam shakes his head, "No this light had like thirty five minutes of battery left.. look at it."

Colby walks up to Sam and looks down at the camera that's pointed to the ground, "Let me look."

"Look. It's out of battery." Sam states and Colby shakes his head, "Okay. Let me film that because no body is going to believe that."

"Right there." Sam points to the screen, "That is actually so strange."

"Is this one charged at least." Colby questions and you lay a hand on your forehead, looking around. You feel eyes on you but you don't see anything whatsoever.

"Yeah, that one is charged." Sam nods, "That's the graveyard?"

"I think." Colby answers and Sam points to the camera, "And this just died?"

"What the fuck." You mumble, running a hand through your hair, "what the fuck."

There's a sound behind you and you all turn around, "What was that?" Sam whispers and you shrug, staring out into the woods.

Sam lays his arm over you, moving you back with him as he steps backwards, "Footsteps, footsteps."

Colby grabs your hand, pulling you with him as you run away from where the sound came from.

"I'm just scared of like, what's taking the energy. Like why did we get lured out here? And then what's like-"

Sam cuts Colby off, "Wait, dude. What if all of our lights just go out? Like there's no way we're gonna be able to get back."

"No I know." Colby nods as he continues walking, "that's why we should make this quick."

You walk up to the gravestones and sam shines the camera, "Here it is."

"This is it." Colby adds, "This was like, a lot more overgrown last time we were here."

You walk ahead a little more, shining your light on the stones as you walk by to stay with Sam and Colby.

"All the graves, guys." Sam says as he shows the camera.

Colby bends down in front of one, "George. George baker."

Sam whispers the camera away, "What the fuck was that?"

Colby continues, "Another George." You tap Colby to get his attention and you point to Sam as he speaks, "Footsteps. Footsteps. Footstep, dude!"

Colby shines his light into the trees and Sam follows it with his camera, "What the fuck is that? Dude."

You move between Sam and Colby, your heart beating faster and faster with each second.

You're all silent for a little bit as you look around to try and find the source of the sound.

"Is that tree-"

Sam cuts Colby off, "Something moving in the tree." He shakes his head, "Alright, let's just go over to James."

You move around to walk over and Sam sighs, "oh god, I can't see shit, dude."

Colby shines his light, making sure you're good before shining it onto a grave, "Oh wait, it's this one."

Sam points the camera, "There it is." He bends down slightly, "James had a god dang pentagram as if he was getting summoned into the house."

Sam talks about James and you zone out, the guilt of going to the basement slowly consuming you again.

"Eighteen sixty five. That's a hundred years before the Perron's were even here." Colby faces the camera and Sam nods, "These people might know, what's been in the woods. You know, if they've been here for this long.."

Colby nods, "okay so we have the EMF and we brought the Alice box, right?"

Sam nods, "Yeah." He looks to you and you raise your hand, "Yeah, I have it."

"Last time the Alice box gave us pretty much the direct intentions-" Sam stops talking, panning the camera out into the darkness.

You and colby shine your lights on the tree before Sam goes back to talking, the direct intentions of the people that were out in the woods so hopefully they can give us that again."

You walk over, standing next to Colby as he takes the camera from Sam. You take your backpack off, getting out the Alice box for him.

Sam takes it before walking over to crouch down in front of James' headstone, "James. We came here a couple years ago. I don't know if you recognize us, you came back to the conjuring house with us. We're really just.. coming out here to look for some answers."

He pauses before speaking again, "lot of people are scared of the woods."

The box beeps and Sam looks down, "Oh fuck." He stands up, looking between you and Colby, "Dude."

"What?" Colby asks and Sam holds the box up slightly, his stare on Colby.

"Knife." The box plays and Sam repeats it, "Knife."

"Knife!?" You and Colby ask at the same time.

"First word is knife?" Sam asks, completely shocked.

"What's that even mean?" Colby asks and Sam looks back down at the box as it beeps, "Late." He looks up, "Late at night?"

Colby shrugs and you wrap your arms around yourself as Sam asks more, "Do you happen to have any idea who the man from the woods is? He's being very cryptic with the way he was telling us to come out to the woods."

You press your fingers to your lips, watching as Sam moves around to set the equipment against the stone.

After a few minutes, the box beeps again.

Sam leans down and Colby gasps, reaching out to point, "Oh that just spiked up!"

"Violent?" Sam reads and the box replays the word, "Violent."

All three of you shout out the word, shocked.

"What ever was out here." Sam starts, "In the woods, a couple of days ago, was trying to attack us."

"You said, violent-"

The box beeping cuts Colby off and Sam leans down, "Violent land!"

A sound causes Sam to look to his right, and Colby moves the camera, "What!? What!?"

"I saw- I just saw something move to the right." Sam points and Colby taps you with his hand, "Wait, point your flashlight over there."

You point your flashlight and the Alice box beeps again, "Spell."

Colby whips the camera back to the stone and you keep your light to where Sam saw something, but you look over at the boys.

"Spell." Sam says and Colby tilts his head, "The alphabet."

You stare out at the trees, zoning out for a second before the beeping of the alice box causing you to look over, "Levitation."

"Levitation!" Colby says loudly as Sam yells, "Oh my fucking god."

"Oh fuck." You shake your head, "There's no way."

"Wait wait wait." Sam whispers quickly, "does that mean from the thing from the woods, was the thing that caused the levitation of the seance in Nineteen seventy four?"

"I don't know." Colby answers, "But it's like threatening a violent levitation, like I can do that, too."

Sam covers his mouth, same as you, "Oh my god."

"Or it, it, it's just mocking the story." Colby says quickly, right before the Alice box beeps again, "Cycle."

"Oh fuck." Sam says looking up at Colby. Colby holds his hand out, "It's like it's gonna happen again."

Sam repeats, "It's gonna happen again."

You shiver slightly, "This is fucking wild. What the fuck, I don't like this."

Colby looks at you and Sam, "I don't like this." Sam nods, "I don't like this at all."

The box beeps again, "Alignment."

All three of you repeat the word in unison, "Alignment."

"Something's about to happen." Sam waves his hand in front of him, "Levitation. Violent land."

"Colby. Colby." You tap him a few times and point, "There's like.. a light or something over there."

Sam stands up, walking over to you guys and turning to look where you're pointing, "A light? Where?"

"Yeah, there's like a flash of light over there." Sam point and you and Sam shine your flashlights in the direction it's coming from.

Your flashlight dies and you look up at Sam shocked, "What the fuck?" You look down as you tap it a few times against your hand, "it's.. it's not working."

Colby scoffs, "I don't like that we only have one flashlight now."

"I'm actually really anxious about that." You say and the Alice box beeps, catching all of your attentions.

Colby bends down with the camera, "Fight."

Sam repeats the word in a whisper and Colby stands back up, "What's that mean?" Sam shakes his head and Colby sighs, "We're gonna have to fight? It- dude. It's all like, malicious words. The fact that it said levitation, and cycle, and alignment?"

"Yeah, it's like something's about to happen." Sam stares up at colby who nods, "Yeah, it's like this is about to be the same thing, every few years."

Colby takes a deep breath, "So how do we figure out who we're talking to? I think that's the main thing here."

Sam stands up, looking at colby, "How bout this.. we're not talking to anybody else. Just you..."

As Sam continues asking questions and talking, you start to feel dizzy again.

Your heart starts racing and you can feel your hands start to shake, just like they did in the basement.

You close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, but you start to feel like not yourself anymore.

You can tell that you're taking slow steps backwards, and you know that you shouldn't do that. You don't want to do that.

You open your eyes and gasp for air, it was almost like your breath was being held.

Sam and Colby's whip their heads around and Colby walks back to you, "Whoa, hey. What's happening?"

You shake your head, breathing heavy, "As.. Sam was.. talking.." you take a breath, holding it for a few seconds before you blow out the air, "I felt myself get dizzy, so I closed my.. eyes to try and get it to stop and I felt myself taking steps backwards. It felt like I wasn't breathing because when I-I opened my eyes I just gasped."

Colby wraps his arm around you, looking back at Sam, "okay, let's just go ba-"

"No." You cut him off, "I'm fine."

Colby states at you, "Y/n. I don't want you getting hurt. That's not why we're doing this." You nod, "I know, Colby. I know, but I want to keep doing this. This is.. this is stuff we need to get. If anything else happens, I'll tell you but.. I'm not stopping here, we're already deep into this."

Colby glances back to Sam and Sam shrugs, "She knows her limits, Colby. If she wants to keep going, I say we move to another spot because we aren't getting any names here."

Colby nods, looking back at you, "You sure you're fine?"

You nod, "Yes, Colby. I'm good."

He nods, taking your hand in his as you follow Sam to a new area. As soon as you stop walking, Sam holds up the Alice box, "Dog."

The Alice box goes off, "Dog."

Sam's head snaps to his left and Colby moves the camera to his right, "What is that!?" He asks, fear coating every word.

Sam shines his flashlight and Colby gasps, "What the fuck is that!?"

"That.. sounds like breathing." You whisper, holding onto Colby's arm, "What the fuck."

"Yeah, that sounds like.. h-heavy breathing." Colby pulls you close to him as he keeps the camera on Sam who tries to mimic the sound.

"Dog." Colby whispers after a moment of silence. Sam stares at Colby with his jaw slightly dropped. It drops more when the heavy breathing sound happens again.

"That's fucking insane." You whisper leaning out around Colby to look where Sam has his light shining.

Colby puts the camera back on Sam as he speaks, "Wait, that sounds like.. like an, instrument or something."

Sam imitates a horn sound and Colby nods, "Yeah, that's like a bass. I don't even know how to describe that." He walks a few steps away and Sam continues to ask questions, "What is that coming? Do you know?"

Colby stop, turning back around. Sam's voice goes down to a whisper, "Wait, wait. Voices."

Colby nods, "Voices, voices, voices. Wait!" He turns the camera to his right and then back to Sam, "I'm turning this off."

Colby switches the camera light off and Sam turns his flashlight off, leaving you in total darkness.

You get a strange feeling, feeling like you're back in the basement of the house.

You keep yourself calm, trying not to panic because this is a feeling you do not like, at all.

"Fuck." Sam curses, "What do we do."

It's quiet for a few seconds, then Colby speaks up, "Is that you, in the woods?"

The Alice box beeping causes you to jump, "Shit."

Sam whispers right before the Alice box says the word, "Teacher.. who is the teacher?" Sam switches his flashlight back on,

Colby gasps, his voice slightly louder, "What was that? That- dude."

"It's coming." Sam whispers and the next thing you know, Colby grabs your arm and is pulling you along as he walks away, Sam following.

"I don't want to go too fast." Colby whispers, turning back to look at Sam, "Because like, I actually think somebody's over there."

You stop and Colby shakes his head, "I'm not kidding."

The light turns off and you listen for a few seconds before Colby whispers, "You hear that?"

"No." You answer in a whisper. Sam shakes his head, "No, no I don't."

"Just wait. Just wait." Colby whispers quietly, squeezing your hand that's clinging to his, "Something is making noise."

"Something over there." Sam says as he's lit up by the red light blinking. Colby turns his head, "Now it's this way." He turns his body and sam turns too, "There's more voices?"

Colby turns again, "Now it's this way."

"Okay." Sam starts, "We're getting fucking surrounded."

"Again, again, again." Colby says taking over talking, "Okay."

The Alice box beeps and everyone waits for it to speak, "Dave."

Your heart falls into your stomach and you instantly feel your mouth watering like you're about to throw up.

"Oh my god." You lay your hand that isn't in Colby's, on your forehead.

"Dave, if you want to come back to the conjuring house with us, please follow us right now, we gotta go back." Sam speaks in one quick sentence.

"Please." Colby pleads and Sam keeps talking, "there's people surrounding us, we gotta go"

Colby holds your hand tight as he pulls you along with him, running after Sam.

"Wait, we don't have a light!" Colby yells after Sam to get him to stop. Sam turns around as you and Colby catch up to him, "Then we gotta stick together real close."

You guys run a little bit further before slowing down, "Look dude I don't want to go too fast."

The Alice box beeps and Sam looks down at it. Colby moves closer and the box sounds, "Special."

"Special?" Colby asks and Sam looks around, "Dave is special?" You walk a little bit more and Sam looks around, "there's probably actually people or something in the woods because we're hearing like weird voices-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Colby whispers, getting everyone to stop. You press your body against his back, closing your eyes as the feeling of puking returns.

What?" Sam asks and Colby leans in to whisper, "I just wanna see if we can hear what's actually out here."

It's silent, nothing but the insects for a few minutes.

"Is that a dog?" Colby asks, "It said dog."

"Dogs." Sam says with a nod.

"We're in the middle of the woods. That makes no sense." Colby whispers and Sam looks at Colby, "We're two miles in the middle of the woods-"

Sam stops talking as a noise close by makes you all freeze.

"What was that?!" Colby asks loudly.

"It literally sounds like a war horn or something." Sam says and Colby mimics the sound, "rrrrrrr."

"Like I said. Something is fucking about to start-"

Colby cuts sam off, "That's not like a car engine." Sam shakes his head, "No way. We should probably actually get back."

Sam looks at the battery percentages of the lights, "And our light's like halfway done, yours is out. Hers is out, too." Sam looks around for a second, "There's tons of dogs around."

Colby nods, "Okay. Let's go." He squeezes your hand, "Let's go."

The main focus for all of you right now, is getting back to the house.

Which you do, about twenty minutes later.

You make your way into the house, your eyes land on the door to the basement as soon as you walk in.

Your mind flashes back to you sitting down there in the chair, and you shiver as you remember the clinking sound that happened all over again.

"Everyone alright?" Sam asks as he walks through the door.

"Yeah I'm good. Are you good?" Colby pokes your shoulder and you nod, forcing a smile up at him, "Yeah, I'm good."

He nods, looking to Sam, "Ready?" Sam nods and Colby holds the camera up towards Sam.

Sam sighs, "Dude. We just got back to the house." He reaches back to close the door, "And it says one start of battery. We left and it was full. These things should last like, five hours?"

"Something was draining our power out in the woods." Colby's says and Sam nods, "genuinely. All of it. Something was taking a lot of the energy to follow us back. We invited it back."

Colby tilts his head, laughing slightly, "That could have been a mistake."

Sam pauses for a second, glancing over at you then back to Colby, "Well find out."

Colby turns the camera off and looks at Sam, "Are we ready?"

Sam stares at Colby and laughs nervously, "Now or never right?"

Colby looks at you, "Are you ready?"

You swallow, "I'm making myself not have a choice." You laugh and Colby walks up to you, embracing you in a hug.

You could cry.

You could puke.

You knew once you said something it was going to be a rough next couple of hours, even a day.

"Alright." Sam claps his hands together, "Let's do this."

Sam takes the camera and walks over to the door.

Colby walks over, standing off to the side and you're right next to him.

It felt like your heart was going to beat right through your chest. You weren't afraid of the basement. You were scared of how much disappointment Colby was going to feel when you finally told him.

Which you decided was going to be right now.

Sam reaches forward, grabbing the knob to twist. He pulls the door open.

Colby takes a deep breath, "Ahhh, my heart.. started beating faster as soon as I looked down there." He nods, looking to Sam then back to the stairs, "Abigail. Hopefully you were following us in the woods, but please, please please, I know you don't like it in the basement.. please follow us down here. We won't be too long. We need your help."

You get into a line, Colby first. Then you. Then Sam.

You felt like you were shivering because you were shaking from being so nervous.

Your heart was beating loud and hard.

Colby glances back, "Ready?"

Sam answers, but all you do is nod one time.

Colby goes down the steps, you force yourself to follow and Sam is right behind you. The camera light illuminating the stairwell.

You completely miss their commentary about the stairs. Your heart was now beating in your ears.

You knew that it wasn't you, that was down there last night. But you know Colby wasn't going to focus on that right away.

His mind is going to go to you being down there in general.

You reach the bottom and you lay your hand on your cheek. You can feel how nervous your arm by the warmth on your hand.

"Wait." Colby looks at you and Sam, "It's just us this time. This is the first time we're alone in the basement."

You sigh, forcing the words to come out of your mouth, "it's not."

Colby's head snaps towards you, "What did you just say?"

You clear your throat, "It.. um.. it's.." your voice goes quieter, "Not the first time.. for me."

Colby just stares at you, trying to fathom what you just said to him.

"Wait.. so.. you came down here? Alone? When?" Sam asks and you look at him, voice still quiet, "Last night."

"What do you mean last night?" Colby asks, "I don't.. I must not.. understand what you're saying."

"It wasn't.. um.." you wipe the sweat from your palm onto your jeans, "It wasn't me.. like.." you sigh, "It was me.. but it wasn't me, like I didn't feel like myself."

Colby looks away, jaw cocked slightly as he tries to wrap his mind around what's happening.

His silence was deafening.

After a few moments, Sam breaks it, "Can you elaborate, like what do you mean it wasn't.. you?"

You look down, trying to not look at Colby because it would just make it harder for you to talk, "I.. um. I heard my name.. being called. A few times actually. Um, then I seen a figure walk past the door way."

"Wait. Something walked past the door?" Sam asks and you can feel Colby's eyes on you, so you just nod.

"And then what happened." Colby states, his voice a little deeper, clearly with anger.

You look up at him, "I heard a door open, I wasn't sure which one u-"

"Until you got up and came down here?" Colby scoffs and Sam sighs, "Colby, just let her explain."

Colby motions and you swallow again "I tried waking both of you guys up, but neither one you heard me."

"Obviously you didn't do a very good job, now did you?" Colby shakes his head and you sigh, "Colby, I'm telling you. Something took over me. Something made me come down here. I was sitting up for a few minutes, I tried laying back down but something actually told me, whispered, go, and I just.. went."

"That's so weird." Sam says and you nod, looking at him, "Sam. I am deathly afraid of this basement, I told you guys this when you asked me to come out for a night or two. I never wanted to come down here, let alone all by myself. When I tell you that I had absolutely no fear at all about coming down here in the middle of the night, that honestly scared me more than this because you both know I wouldn't just do that."

"Where did you go?" Sam asks and you point to the table and chairs, "I literally just sat, right there in that chair."

You look at Colby and he smacks his lips as he wipes his face. He stares at the place you pointed to and stays silent for a few seconds before breaking his own quietness, "I just.. thought.. when we, uh.. first came here that we made a promise to each other not to come down here alone."

You clench your jaw, "Colby." Your voice breaks slightly, "I didn't feel like I had much of a choice."

He licks his lips, looking down at the items in his hand.

"I-I felt like I needed to come down here, like I just-" you sigh, "If I could have just went to sleep I would have done that."

Colby leans back as he looks at you, not saying anything.

He was mad. Disappointed.

He pushes his lips together, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks about what he wants to say next.

"Colby.. she said something to- you can't blame y/n." Sam sticks up for you, "You and I both know that this house is.. this house is way beyond something else."

Colby sighs, "I-" he pauses, "I get that.. but like.." he looks at you then to Sam, "We said we would go to the basement, together for the first time." He looks to you, staring at you for a few seconds before speaking, "So that's like.." he shakes his head, "I'm not gonna lie, it still just.. sits a little bit wrong with me."

He shrugs, "and that you wouldn't try and wake one of us up harder, you know?" His arms fall to his sides, "This was, like.. a big moment.. for us, Sam."

"I don't think you're actually under-" Sam is cut off by Colby, "She took that.. for herself."

You close your eyes as they start to burn, "I'm sorry." Your voice cracks again, "To both of you."

You open your eyes looking up at Colby slowly. He has his jaw clenched, lips pressed tightly together as he avoids looking at you.

"Do you know what time it was when you got up?" Sam asks lowly and you shrug, "I think it was almost three, or maybe three exactly?"

Colby nods, looking towards you but his eyes are on the floor.

"I just heard my name a few times and then something whispered go and that's when I just wasn't me, Colby. You have to believe that I mean it when I say I'm sorry."

He nods, running his tongue along his teeth on the inside of his lips, thinking about the situation, "I mean.. I just wish.. you know, that you would have woke me up before.. like, it would have been nice to know that something was trying to take over my fucking girlfriend."

"I know." You whisper looking down and Colby shakes his head, letting out a sigh, "Honestly I don't even really want to keep talking about it right now. So let's just.."

"Colby." You walk up to him and he avoids eye contact, "I didn't do it for the camera, or for the channel, or for my channel. I didn't even do it for me."

"But you knew what you were doing?" He looks at you and his stare sends a shiver down your spine, causing the words you want to say to disappear.

You nod, "Yeah bu-"

He cuts you off, shaking his head, "It's fine. I get it. It's all good." He walks into the room with the table and chairs and you look at Sam.

He walks up, laying a hand on your back, rubbing gently, "It's fine. We'll talk more about it after we're done here."

You nod, wiping under your eyes before you follow Colby into the room.

"Dave, the trickster.. Abigail. Whoever's down here, we are gonna be doing the Estes method, and we also believe this is the easiest way of communication." Sam says and you just stand there, staring at the table.

"I actually have an idea." Sam points to Colby, "Before we do the estes method."

A sound causes Colby's eyes to go wide and he points at Sam and Sam gasps, "What the fuck was that?"

Colby holds his hand up, listening to see if the sound happens again.

You were honestly terrified to be down here again. You wanted to move next to Colby but you weren't sure how that would go.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to console yourself silently as they continue.

"Dude." Sam says quietly and Colby leans back, "Footsteps."

"What the fuck is that?" Sam whispers quieter and Colby answers, "That was footsteps."

You step closer to the table, voice as quiet as theirs, "I heard footsteps when I was down here, right after I had a vision of a soldier looking in the upstairs window."

Sam snaps his head towards you, "No fucking way."

You nod, glancing over at Colby. He looks at you and looks away, not wanting to talk about it. He points to the wall, "But it sounded like it was in the wall."

Colby reaches out, knocking on the wall, "It was like deep inside."

Sam pans the camera, "If that was you knocking.." he pauses, looking down. Colby steps towards him, "What?"

"I don't know." Sam shakes his head, "just felt like something was grabbing my foot."

"Your foot?" You and Colby say at the same time, but Colby doesn't laugh like usual.

"Yeah, it was like hard to-"

Colby yells, cutting off Sam, "Oh fuck. There's something on me."

"What? For real?" Sam asks walking over you move closer to Sam and lean over to look at Colby's leg.

"For sure, there's some-" he sets his stuff on the table and leans down, pulling up his pant leg slightly, digging in with his fingers.

"what is it?" Sam asks and Colby stands up, putting something on the table, "I don't know."

"Tick?" Sam asks and Colby points with his two fingers, "It was a fucking tick."

"Oh god." Sam groans and you cover your mouth, paranoid that you have one or two on you.

"I knew there was something on me." Colby exclaims, stepping back. He leans down, "Shit man, that is so gross dude. I hate ticks." He picks it up and leans over, flicking it down the well, "go in the well."

"Speaking of the well." Sam starts, " A lot of the things that we've gotten, and a lot of things we've talked about, is the water could be the catalyst for activity."

You raise your brows, "Oh shit."

"What if we.. kinda like how we did in the Dracula's castle episode, why don't we grab some of the well water and use that to maybe like, summon something here." Sam pauses, "If things are coming from that well, at least maybe that's like a trigger object, you know?"

Colby nods, "Yeah. Do we have anything to get the water out with?"

You look around for something and Sam scoffs, "wait, dude. This just turned off." He looks up at Colby, "As soon as you touched- it just did it again."

"See!" Colby says with his hand pointing to Sam.

You walk over to Sam, looking down at the camera and he nods, "Yeah, it just turned off again!"

"It's not just me." Colby shrugs while holding his hands out to his sides. Sam nods, "It's not just you."

Colby nods, "So maybe it was a warning, not to do that."

"Are you still going to do it?" You ask looking between them. Colby looks down at the well for a few seconds before looking up at Sam with a smirk on his lips.

His eyes go to you then back to Sam, still smirking, "Yeah."

"Oh god." You laugh slightly, "How the fuck are you going to get it?"

Sam looks from you to Colby and Colby laughs, "Sam. Hold my ankles."

Sam hands you the camera and walks around to Colby and bends down. Colby gets down on his stomach and grabs the cup.

Sam grips Colby's ankles as he inches himself forward a little bit more. He blows out air, "Catch yins on the flip side."

He leans down, groaning as he stretches to reach the water, "Oh god "

"I promise you're not going anywhere." Sam says, groaning as he holds Colby's ankles down. You can't help but laugh at this situation.

It's just so.. them.

Colby's saying something but you can't really understand him because he's laughing.

"You good?" Sam asks and Colby answers, "Yeah I'm just gonna go forward a little bit." He inches forward some more, stretching down more.

As they're getting the water, you feel an uneasy feeling, but you just brush it off.

"You got it?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, I got it." Colby answers.

In a strained voice, Sam says, "He got the well water."

Colby comes back up, setting the cup of water on the ground with a groan. You put the camera on Colby and he sighs, pointing to his shirt, "XPLR merch, down below."

You hand the camera back to Sam and step to the side. Sam looks at you, "You good." You sigh quietly, nodding, "Yeah."

"Shit dude, I ruined everything." Colby says as he brushes himself off. Sam tries not to laugh, "It was well worth it."

Colby looks up, glaring at Sam and Sam laughs, "get it?"

You laugh and walk around to sit down in a chair and you watch as Colby moves to sit next to you, Sam next to Colby.

Sam leans forward, setting the camera down on the other side of the table to get you all in frame.

"This looks oddly familiar." Colby says and Sam nods, "literally learned the Estes method in this house, two and half years ago."

You watch as Colby puts on his blindfold and you hand him the headphones.

Sam looks at Colby, "Let's try and figure out who's trying to fuck with us."

"Weird full circle moment." Colby says as he brings the headphones to his ears, but stops, resting his hands back on the table, "Yeah, so as a recap real quick.. Dave.."

Your stomach drops when you hear his name now.

".. is the soldier.." Colby continues but Sam butts in, "Who's been following us for like four days."

Colby continues, "For four days, but we initially talked to him with the Estes method out in the back yard, and then he follows us to the woods by the campsite.."

You look around, squinting your eyes behind Sam. You stare for a few seconds before looking away.

"Hopfully Abigail is still here and guides us in the right direction. Please, Abigail." Sam looks up at the ceiling and you turn your head slightly, smiling as you feel the same loving brush on your shoulder, "she's here."

Sam looks at you and Colby turns his head towards you, "How do you know?"

"She touched my shoulder." You swallow, "She did it before."

"And you know it's her?" Sam asks and you nod, "Oh yeah."

"Hmm. Alright. That makes me feel a little bit better." Sam laughs slightly, "Alright. You ready?"

"Let's do it." Colby says and as soon as he puts on the headphones, "Reason."

"Yeah we're trying to figure out the reason why you like us so much." Sam starts, "Why you want us out into the woods."

"Works."

Sam reaches over between you and Colby, whispering as he moves the cup of water towards Colby more, "We also have the well water."

"What do you want with us?" Sam asks and Colby answers right away, "Sex."

You raise a brow, "Huh?"

Sam blinks, smirking slightly, "Alright, are you just fucking with us? Are you the trickster spirit?"

"Me."

"Can you give us a name?" Sam asks and Colby is silent. Sam looks up, "Okay. Are you a solider?"

It's silent again and you lean forward, "Sam." He looks up at you, "What's up?"

"When I came down here last night, I asked if it was the trickster spirit. And whoever, whatever it was kept telling me the woods." You say and he tilts his head, "Huh, that would make sense. Wait, is that why you got dizzy in the woods?"

You shrug, "I don't know. It could be. I was thinking about that, though." You nod, "I just thought I'd tell you now so you know who didn't get mad again."

He nods, "Yeah, I get it."

"Run."

"What do you want us to run from?" Sam asks, "unless it's Abigail?" Sam looks over at you, "like warning us?"

You shrug, "That, I don't know."

"Is it something dangerous?" Sam asks and there's no answer for a little bit.

"Injury."

You and Sam both look up at the ceiling confused.

"Science."

"Oh my god." Sam whispers and you look at him, "what the fuck was that?"

Sam looks from Colby to you, "everything's moving." He goes to say something else but Colby cuts him off, "Us."

Your eyes stay on Colby and you get a sick feeling in your stomach.

"Fall."

"Do you want to hurt us?" Sam asks and you lean in, "Sam, I feel sick." He looks at you, "Are you okay? Do you need to step out or something?"

"I'm not going alone. I'll be fine." You take a deep breath, "I'm good."

"Friendly."

"Okay. So you're friendly. Is this Abigail? Are you trying to lead us somewhere else, make sure y/n is okay?" Sam looks at you and Colby answers, "Stone."

"There's a lot of stones around here." Sam says and his tone makes you want to laugh, he sounded so done.

"Oh, Sam. Another thing. When I got that vision of the soldier looking in the window, there were footsteps before and then I asked if it was watching you and Colby.." you start and Sam nods, "Yeah?"

"That's when that weird hold on me went away and I booked it back upstairs because footsteps were coming towards me but I couldn't see anything."

"Stab."

Sam keeps his stare on you, "it said knife in the graveyard." You nod and Colby speaks up, "He had to go."

"Are you a murderer?" Sam asks and there's no answer from Colby for a little while.

"James."

Sam's eyes go wide and he jumps back, "James!" He covers his mouth with his hands. You cover your mouth, eyes wide, "No fucking way!"

"That's the soldier from the secret grave." Sam looks to you and over to Colby before looking back at the table, "James. Is this you that we're talking with?"

Instantly, Colby answers, "yes."

Sam's mouth drops open, "Fuck yeah." He rests his hands against his chin, "Okay. Thank you. Who is this man from the woods?"

You start to feel dizzy again. You lay your head in your hand as Sam continues to ask questions.

"Here."

"James thinks the man from the woods is here." Sam says and you lift your head.

"He's pointing fingers."

"What does he want with us?" Sam asks and it's a few minutes before Colby answers, "Rule."

"He wants to control this.. area? Is the man from the woods actually powerful, or is he just tricking us?" Sam pauses, "James can you answer? Are you just fucking with us?"

You shake your head as you look away from Colby to Sam, "I feel.. like there's something here, like.. around us." You motion, "Like a constant presence that's moving around."

"Yes."

Sam stares at you, "He's not actually gonna hurt us, right? Nothing can happen?"

You wipe your hands on your thighs, "This is fucking scary." You take a slow, deep breath and exhale quietly.

"Future."

A minute or two of silence goes by, "Use."

"What, are you gonna use us?" Sam asks confused and Colby answers, "Help."

You and Sam both look at Colby, staring at him.

"James, do you need help?" Sam looks away and back to Colby, "How can we help you?"

You both stare at Colby, waiting for a response but nothing.

"Tell us how we can help, actually this time." Sam looks around and you feel like hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"There's definitely something here, Sam." You whisper so quiet you weren't sure if Sam actually heard you. He looks over at you, nodding and his voice is just as quiet as you, "Yeah."

"Water."

"Is that how you get your power?" Sam motions to the cup, "We got a little of the well water right here." He looks at you and his eyes move up to above your head, like he's following something that's moving away from you.

"You."

"Are.. are both James and the man from the woods still here?" Sam asks and there isn't a response from Colby for a few minutes.

"Yes."

Your mouth, along with Sam's, drop open, "Oh shit."

"Dave."

You and Sam look at Colby, asking in unison, "Dave?"

Sam looks at you, "are there three people now?" Sam asks, "James. Dave. The man from the woods?"

"Fool."

"Fool." Sam repeats slowly.

"I'm back."

"I'm back.. as if he's been talking with us." Sam looks up at you and back down to the table, "Man from the woods, have you been with us this entire time?"

Sam pauses, waiting for a response but nothing happens for a few minutes, "You."

"Yeah, have you been with me and Colby?" He looks up at you, "or have you been with y/n?" You tilt your head down, shaking your head as you blink slowly.

"Woods.. Us.."

"Us and the woods? We were all in the woods." Sam says and there's a knock, causing you to jump slightly, "Fucking hell."

"In."

"We were all in the woods." Sam repeats, "Man from the woods, what is your name?" Colby instantly answers, "Yeah."

"I don't-." Sam rests his hand on his chin, totally consumed and Colby speaks, "Me."

"Yeah yo-"

Colby cuts Sam off, "I am."

"Are you-" Sam stops talking, looking at you confused, "Have you been-"

"Hello?"

You and Sam look at Colby and Sam stares at him as he speaks, "Hello.. have you been with us the whole time, It-" Sam is completely baffled by what you're getting back from Colby.

"Are you Dave?" Sam asks, keeping his stare on Colby.

You're so scared that you know you're going to jump when either Colby or Sam breaks the silence. You were so on edge right now, you didn't want to sit through another Estes method.

But you are.

"No." Colby moves his head slightly, "It's meee."

Sam looks away, letting his hands fall in front of him, "What the fuck?" He looks at you and you lay your hand on your mouth, shrugging as you shake your head.

"No, then it's me?" Sam whispers and Colby butts in, "Moon."

"Dave. Are you a soldier? Answer me. Who are you Dave?" Sam asks and another few minutes of silence go by, "Don't."

"You've been following us for four or five days." Sam leans forward, resting on his elbows.

"Again."

"Why don't you want to tell us who you are?" Sam asks, set on finding out who this spirit is.

"Sam." You lift your finger, pointing to the green camera light that's getting brighter by the second.

He shakes his head, letting out a sigh and Colby speaks up, "Yours.. friend."

"You want to be our friend?" Sam asks and Colby instantly answers, "Happy."

"Okay.. you like when we come talk to you Dave?" Sam asks and there's more silence before Colby answers, "Lake.. turn around."

You and Sam both instantly look behind you, a weird feeling in your stomach building up. You look forward at Sam and sigh, "This is intense."

He nods, "Are you.." he looks to his other side, "Are you right behind us?" Sam stays looking behind him as Colby answers, "Unlock."

"Unlock? Thats what it said about the door. Is the person down here right, the person that locked the door on us two years ago?"

"What?."

"Do you remember us? Cause we were here two ye-"

Colby cuts Sam off, "Yes."

"So were you the person th-"

"Yeah!"

Sam covers half of his face, "Fuck.. Dude.." He turns to Colby, fighting back the urge to tap Colby. He lays his hands on the table and before he says anything else, Colby speaks, "Here.. This.."

"Are you calling-"

Colby cuts Sam off, "Friend."

"His friend, was the one who locked us in the basement two years ago." Sam looks at you and taps the table with his fingers, "Is this friend of ours, this happy friend, the same person as the man from the woods? Are you the one calling us to the woods?"

"Yeah." Colby answers and you get a chill down your spine. That feeling like you're about to puke returns.

"Fuck." Sam leans forward.

"Smile."

Sam reaches out, grabbing Colby's shoulder speaking quickly, "Dude. Dude dude dude."

You lay your hand on Colby's opposite shoulder, "Colby."

Colby takes off the head phones and pulls the blindfold down. His hand lays over his eyes as Sam grabs the camera, "I actually think this thing that's been following us the entire time, Dave.."

Colby keeps his hand over his eyes, "Mhm."

Your fingers rub gently over his jacket as Sam continues to speak, "Is.. the man from the woods. I don't think Dave is a soldier."

"Wait, why do you say that?" Colby asks, blocking the light with his hand.

You keep your stare on Colby, making sure he's good as Sam keeps talking.

You feel that guilt feeling all over again. You don't want to feel it, not only does it make you feel upset, but you didn't want the spirits feeding off the negative emotion.

"But Dave was the soldier, because when we talked to him with the Estes method, like he was the one that came from underground." Colby says and Sam nods, continuing to talk.

Colby leans back and you drop your hand, leaning back as he speaks, "Wait. So you're saying he's been the one that's been stalking us since day one?"

You look from Colby to Sam, sitting there listening to them talk back and forth about what happened while Colby was doing the method.

You feel goosebumps form on your skin and you shiver.

"Let's check if he locked the door one more time." Sam says and you all get up, walking over to the steps.

Colby reaches back, grabbing onto your hand to pull you in front of him so you're not last on the stairs.

You look up at him and he just stares down at you, fighting back a smile because he still wants to seem mad.

You smirk slightly and walk ahead of him.

"The doors wide open? That's also bizzare, too. I thought we closed it." Sam says, turning around to look at Colby.

"When we went up and got.. the water cup? We might have-" Colby's cut off by Sam, "Oh, okay."

"You know what I just realized, too?" Colby asks as you walk out into the room, "when we first came to the basement, yesterday." He closes the door, but then opens it back up, "We did a ritual where we were saying soldier, soldier, soldier. What if that was just instantly telling, like the trickster as well, that we were trusting the soldiers too much?"

Colby closes the door, "Like duh, he's gonna act like a soldier to get on our good side."

Sam switches the green light back to the regular, white light, "Wait, the first day we did an investigation right here with Amanda. We opened the basement door and something came up and hit the REM pod."

"So you could have just let out, Dave, the trickster spirit from the basement and then ever since then he's been following us."

A knock causes you to jump and Colby wraps his arm around you, "What was that?"

"What was that?" Sam asks turning the camera, "It was like a knock on the front door."

Colby walks over, checking it out and you watch, making sure you don't see anything in the windows.

After a few minutes, Colby walks back, "Okay. Are we ready to go back down?"

Sam nods and you stand there, hesitating on how you want to answer, "Um.. I don't.. know."

"Do you feel comfortable going back down?" Sam asks and you sigh, "I mean.. yeah.. I just.." you shake your head, "Yeah. Let's just do it."

"Y/n. If you don't-"

You cut Sam off, "I'm good."

They don't argue anymore and walk over to the door. Colby first, then you, then Sam.

You make your way back down, sitting down at the same like you were before going up stairs. Sam ties the blindfold on and Colby looks at him, "Ready?"

Sam nods, "Yeah."

Colby switches on the static sound, "See how loud that is guys?" He looks into the camera and Sam puts on the headphones, immediately saying something, "Two."

"Two." Colby thinks, "there's still two of you here? I believe we were just talking to-"

Sam interrupts Colby as he continues to speak, "Young."

"Out."

"Hi."

You get instant chills and Colby looks at you, "Every single time I talk it's just talking over me." Colby looks up, making his voice louder, "Dave. Are you with me?"

A few minutes goes by, and Sam breaking the silence causes you to jump, "Here."

"Why do you want us to go to the woods so bad?"

You close your eyes, trying to keep that sick feeling at bay as Colby keeps trying to get answers.

"Evil girl." Instantly after, "Abigail."

You open your eyes, looking at Colby and you repeat her name at the same time.

"He would.. the trickster, or Dave, would think that Abigail is evil-"

"Dead."

"Dave I need you to be clear with me, why do you want us to go to the woods?"

Sam doesn't say thing for a few minutes, but within those few minute, you reach out, laying your hand on Colby's arm and his hand goes to lay on yours, "What's up?"

"I don't feel like it's just us again." You shake your head, "Someone else is here. Something else, or whatever. We're not alone."

"Down."

"Person."

Colby looks from you to Sam, and back to you.

"Blame."

"So if there's other people down there as well, is that what you're saying? Other spirits that you know?" Colby asks and Sam responds, "Seven."

Colby's mouth drops and he leans back, "we've been getting seven all the time.."

"Line em' up."

"Are these seven spirits dangerous?" Colby asks and you jump as something brushes against your leg. You refuse to look, mainly because you're scared.

"Who are these seven spirits in the woods with you? Are they other earth bound spirits, possibly?" Colby asks and you sit there in silence, awaiting a possible answer from Sam.

"With you."

You look at Colby, "Is that why I don't feel like it's just us?"

"If there's seven spirits with us now.. I mean.."

"Basement."

Your eyes go wide, "seven spirits here. In the basement."

"Do you have a plan to do something to us is we go to the woods?"

Sam answers Colby immediately, "Spooked."

You nod, your voice quiet, "Yeah, we're for sure spooked."

"Why didn't you scare us when we were there earlier tonight?" Colby asks and you look between him and Sam, wishing you weren't scared enough to leave the basement alone.

"Was that you making noises in the woods? Were you trying to scare us?"

Sam doesn't answer, he just sits there.

"Find out."

You feel like your skin is crawling with the cryptic responses. You were so on edge right now, you wanted to leave and never come back.

Colby looks at you, "That's the same thing is said yesterday.. come find out."

You place your elbows on the table, holding your head between your hands.

"Are you okay?" Colby whispers and you nod slightly, "I'm starting to get a headache."

"I promise."

"What's gonna happen?" Colby asks and there's another long pause, the pain in your head growing worse by the second.

"Trauma."

You look up at Sam and you close your eyes.

"Stone."

"Stone?" Colby questions and you lean back slowly, taking a deep breath as you rest your hands on the table.

The pain in your head is slowly dying down.

Colby continues asking questions and you feel that feeling of not being alone creep in again, this time it's more of a heavier feeling.

You can feel it, weighing down on you like something is pressing on your shoulders and you're resisting.

"It's time."

"I can sense."

The feeling disappears and you slam your hand on Colby's arm, "I just felt like something was weighting down my shoulders and when Sam said it's time, it went away."

"Is that plan happening now? When is it going to happen? Were you just touching y/n?" Colby asks, glancing from Sam to you, "Why would we come back there if you're saying you're going to attack us?"

"Pause."

"Dude." Colby rubs his eyes and you sigh, "i have a question, were you the one we were talking to two years ago?"

"You're scared."

Colby laughs slightly, "we were terrified."

"Don't record."

You glance to the camera and back to Colby.

"Dave.. do you call yourself Beelzebub?"

"I dare you."

You all sit there in silence, you mainly thinking about everything.

"I like you."

"At this point, we just know you're trying to get on our good side. So, it's not gonna work."

"Family."

"Do you do this for a specific reason?"

You lay your hands on your head, resting your elbows on the table.

Your headache returns.

"Heaven."

"Do you get power from scaring people?" Colby asks and you swear you hear a knock, but before you can say anything, Sam cuts you off, "Come in."

"It's the same thing. He's not answering any questions. It's the same things.. just come to the woods."

"My head hurts again." You look at Colby and he leans in, "Do you need to leave?"

"I'm not going by myself. I'll be fine." You take a deep breath, "it was hurting just a few minutes ago.. stopped, and now it hurts again."

"Did it do this when you were down here-"

Sam cuts Colby off, "Alone."

"No." You answer quickly, "It didn't."

"You know, that makes sense though, the owner did say the best way to get evidence is to be alone." Colby looks at you, snapping his head to Sam.

"He's ready."

You point to Sam, "Colby. Look at him."

Colby watches Sam and tilts his head, "He's like.. shaking.." He looks at you, "I'll pull him out of this in a second.."

You nod, sitting up and watching Sam intently. He shakes his head back and forth, just acting weird.

"Colby, I don't .. I don't like this." You look at Colby and he shakes his head, "Yeah neither do I."

"Thank you." Sam says, sounding normal.

Colby just stares at him as he places a hand on his shoulder. Sam reaches up, brushing his other shoulder before moving to take off the headphones.

Colby moves his hand and Sam brushes his shoulder again, almost in a panic to take off the blindfold.

"Why you acting like that?" Colby asks, kind of worried.

"Dude." Sam shakes his head, hand still on his shoulder, "I-" he stumbles over his words before he stands up, moving behind Colby, "It felt like someone was leaning in like this."

He demonstrates and Colby looks at you, eyes wide, "Isn't that-"

"Uh huh." You nod, "I felt that same thing."

"It felt like it was pushing me down." Sam moves to sit down and Colby nods, "Yeah your legs were shaking. I stopped it mostly because y/n kept getting headaches and I wanted to see, like what you were doing."

"I don't think I've ever felt an Estes method like that.. I don't.." he looks between you and Colby, ".. Was I like.. it literally felt like-"

"Just pressure on your neck and shoulders?" You ask and Sam nods, "Yeah, the pressure."

"It was your legs that were freaking me out because you were just like starting to twitch and like-"

Sam cuts Colby off, "that's what I'm saying like, the Zack Bagans thing.. my legs were tensing up as if I needed to like, move or I'd get up.. it was just fucking weird."

"Okay let's just.. get out of here. We can talk about it all upstairs." Colby stands up, "How's your head?" He looks at you and you nod, "It's fine again."

"The camera turned off." Sam says and Colby goes to grab it. He turns it back on and it shuts off again, "it just turned off twice, in a row, right when I grabbed it.."

"Alright let's just get upstairs." Sam says and you all start to gather the things from the table. Colby yelling causes you to jump, "Three times!?"

"Let's just go. Let's go." Sam says and it turns off again, "What's fucking happening? I'm holding it with my left hand because I'm holding this." Colby shows his hand and you turn your head, almost like a scuffling abound capturing your attention.

"Guys." You hold your arm out towards them but the camera shutting off has their attention.

You look back at them, then back into the darkness and the same footsteps that came after you while you were down here alone, come after you again.

You let out a yell, moving to stand between Sam and Colby.

"What!? What what?!" Colby asks wrapping his arm around you.

"Footsteps. Like footsteps running towards me just happened and that same thing happened last night when I was coming back up the steps." You lean into Colby and he sighs, "We need to be recording."

"Here. I'll just.." Sam starts recording on his phone. He explains what you heard and Colby holds the camera out, "Guys. Look look."

"It's just turning off." Sam says and Colby holds it back up, "Look watch. Are you gonna do it again? Turn off the camera."

Sam shakes his head, "Dude, I just don't think we should fuck with it like that."

"No that was five times in a row, Sam." Colby argues, "You got that right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I got it." Sam says. You sigh, "I think we just need to get out of here."

You all go up the steps, stepping out the door way and you take a deep breath, "Oh my god."

"It's still turning off." Colby says, and suddenly the light goes off, causing you all to yell.

"This is a brand new light." Sam says, "let's just go outside."

As you go outside, Sam pulls the door shut, "What the fuck is happening." Colby shrugs, "I don't know dude. Something is trying to delete the footage."

They go back and forth about it for a second and then Colby looks at you, "Are you okay?"

You nod, "No, yeah. I'm good. I feel better now that we're out here." You walk over to him, "Are you still mad at me?"

He pulls you into a hug, "Were definitely going to talk about everything in detail when we get a second, but as of right now I'm just glad that nothing serious happened to you."

"So you still love me?" You look up at him and he looks down at you, "Yes. Of course I love you. I love you, even when I'm mad at you."

He smiles and leans down to peck your lips, "so are you sleeping with me tonight or are you-"

You cut him off, "Going to a hotel? Yes. I'll see you in the morning."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you enjoyed this. I wrote so much my Wattpad started to slow down and didn't keep up with me so I'm sorry if there's any major mistakes.

Thanks for reading! Love yas!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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