#Why would you go on ao3 to read multiple fics about them...and you even read the whole thing...

[maipareshaan]

This blog that made compilations of true crime freaks has multiple posts about ao3 fics they read doing the whole 'my eyes someone shoot me' thing...like...

[stsgooo]

Haunted.

✩࿐ summary: geto had suffered enough, why should he let you go too?

warning(s): suicidal thoughts/idealizations, death, poor coping mechanisms, gn!reader, depression, isolation, description of violence, angst no comfort, curse!reader, cult leader geto things, character study vibes, not proofread (sorry). wc; 15.7k

pairing(s): geto suguru/reader, geto suguru/gojo satoru/reader (briefly), geto suguru/gojo satoru

a/n: hii, been a while since i’ve written an x reader fic so hope this abides by everyone’s standards :) as i finished this, i realized that this probably should've been multiple parts because of how long it is, but it was too far gone at that point. anyway, i hope you enjoy and if you don't i would rather not hear about it!

available to read on ao3. | divider 1

I. 2005

SUGURU WAS SURE YOU HAD A DEATH WISH.

Out of everyone, it seemed as if you had some crazy switch in you that just flipped during a battle. It was as if you got tunnel vision and your every move was erratic, death the only option. It did not matter to you whether you lived or died. Saving others was your main and only goal. That scared him to death.

You were powerful. Powerful enough where you didn’t need to go all out on every curse that even hinted at having some type of power over you or others. Yet you always found yourself in Shoko’s room, sporting one cut too many, and a bright grin as if you weren’t pushing the limit. You would wave away any and all concern with that smile.

I’m just fine, you would roll your eyes at their worry. Really, you guys, stop fussing so much.

Suguru had argued with you about it before. Both of you had been sent on a mission to some elementary school, few kids had gone missing. You found the curse, and the kids, and a fight ensued. It was nothing crazy. Not until you practically served yourself on a platter for the curse and told Suguru to run away with the kids. Of course, he didn’t leave. What kind of friend would he be if he just let you die? What kind of sorcerer would he be if he just ran away while you were torn limb by limb? He’d be a failure of a sorcerer and a failure of a friend.

It bothered him. It enraged him how easily you threw your life away for others. A hint of danger and you were willing to get yourself killed over it. The complete disregard for your life in the first year that you all knew each other irked his very soul. Your behavior was worrisome. It confused him.

The buildup to his fight with you was a lot to unpack in itself.

The car ride from the hospital the kids were at was silent. Filled with a tension that unsettled his heart and he was sure unsettled your mind. You made no attempt at small talk or passing a good job, it was just silent. He silently thanked you for it. Because he was sure if you spoke then, he would’ve blown up. He would’ve said horrible things. So he silently thanked you for your silence, your silent allowance to let him think. You even fell asleep and Suguru couldn’t help but ask himself how you could sleep so soundly after such a close brush with death.

Three days later, he could tell Satoru and Shoko noticed the tension.

He knew they noticed it the moment you two returned. Your clothes soiled, face covered in mud and blood, hands all too shaky. Maybe it was the way you walked away from his side to great them. Or it was probably the way he glared at the wavering smile on your lips as you told them everything went fine. It was most definitely that.

Shoko was weary of it. At lunch, she’d sit between him and you. Her words were light as she teased and prodded, but never dared to ask the serious questions. She kept the air free of the awkwardness or the anger brewing. Shoko was kind like that. She was optimistic.

Satoru, however, wasn’t.

Although he seemed to abide by the silent rule not to ask you questions, he was practically grilling Suguru any given moment. He asked what happened. Why was Suguru so angry? Why were you acting so standoff-ish? Had something finally happened between you? Did Suguru get rejected and was he throwing himself a pity party? There were so many things that he threw out into the open like it was silly. As if Satoru derived some entertainment from the tension.

Do you ever notice they’re ready to get themselves killed for others? Suguru had thrown out to Satoru a week after the mission.

Satoru’s eyes lost the amusement and his smile dimmed. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Of course I have. His voice was ridiculously serious and slow, extremely distant. As if recalling something he pushed to the back of his mind often. His attention had cut back to Suguru and shook his head. Man, it’s best to leave this alone. Trust me. Sensei will say something soon enough.

Suguru couldn’t help but worry that their first year teacher’s talk wouldn’t come soon enough.

Things just didn’t make sense to him. He just didn’t understand why you would be so willing to throw yourself into death like it was a blanket on a cold night. Sure, they’re meant to save people, but it didn’t mean death. Not everything had to be final. He feared that you just didn’t know it.

All of it came to a head when all four of you were placed on a mission three weeks after.

At this point, it was apparent that you both were avoiding each other. Different topics that neither of you wanted to address made headway into your dynamic. Distanced you both from one another like it was a bubble. A shield protecting you both from uncomfortable and frankly angry conversations.

But you did it again.

Sure, this time the curse was too much. Things weren’t looking too great for them. But the moment Suguru noticed you were missing from his and Satoru’s side, he felt panicked. He knew what was coming and knew what you’d say.

You caught the curse off guard as you jumped from the top banister, your large hammer at the ready. You shouted something along the lines that they should get out of there. But Suguru nor Satoru dared to run away. He watched, in horror, as you vanished into the curse’s mouth. As he was ready to summon his small arsenal of cursed spirits, the thing was cut from the stomach. Then you got its head.

There was silence as you stood amongst the carnage. Covered in the things purple goopy blood. Then you turned to them with that smile and Suguru lost it.

“What’s wrong with you?” He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls and converging on you. You looked shocked, eyebrows raised and faltering away from the pride to the confusion. He took in a shaky breath as he felt the built up anger from the past three weeks finally come up. “Do you have to throw yourself into danger like that?”

You frowned at him, then pathetically gestured at the curse. “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

Suguru pressed his hands against his face, letting out a deeply annoyed groan. “That’s not the point! The point is you threw yourself into its mouth! Like it was nothing!” He pushed himself forward to at least close the distance a little. Despite hearing Satoru’s soft protest, he needed to look you in the eye.

Your irritation was apparent as you furrowed your brow. “It doesn’t matter! Seriously, what’s your issue lately? You’ve been a complete asshole since that mission we went on. I thought you were just feeling bad for those kids, but you’ve acted completely different towards me!” Suguru could only clench his jaw at your obliviousness. There’s no way, right? There was absolutely no way you didn’t see what you were doing to them. To him. But when you said your next words, that thought was out the window. “Okay, so I threw myself into the middle of things, but so what?”

So what? So what. So fucking what?

Suguru felt something deep within him snap. As if there was a car underwater and the glass that was keeping the passengers safe suddenly cracked. His emotions, his clear mind, were the victims of the drowning. Buried deep under your ignorance.

“So what?” He snapped, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he regarded you with unsettled rage. “So what? Are you serious? Like, are you dumb or are you just playing with me because I seriously can’t tell right now!”

You flinched at his tone and he could hear the shift of rubble behind him. “Suguru, hey—“ Satoru tried to de-escalate the situation but he was ignored.

“Excuse me?” You uttered, glaring up at him.

“Whenever we go on missions, you’re the first one throwing yourself at the thing like it isn’t serious. As if there’s not a high possibility that you’ll die! Every single time.” Suguru had a finger against your chest now. He wasn’t even sure when he had reached out, but he could feel the curse’s blood on his fingertip. It was cold and thick. Uncomfortable. But you were covered in it like it was nothing. Everything was nothing to you. “So, I’m asking you: are you dumb or just acting like you are?”

Your eyes were narrowed as you regarded him. “I know it’s dangerous, but sometimes that’s the only option.” Was all you had to say in response.

“You shouldn’t be the first one to die every time!” Suguru was desperate for his point to get across. For you to understand that it wasn’t the matter that it was dangerous— it was the fact that you were so willing and ready to have everyone live without you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You frowned.

Just understand I care. That if you were to die right in front of my eyes, I’d lose it. I’ve only known you for ten months, but I can’t imagine a world where you’re dead. You’re one of my best friends— the first friend I ever made, please don’t make me live longer than you. Were all the selfish things that Suguru wanted to say. That he should’ve said.

Instead, he asked, “Do you just want to die?”

There was a very long silence that kept them all from moving.

The question was posed and he could see it in your eyes. Could hear it in the words you didn’t speak. You looked away from him, shame settled on your face. Suddenly, you looked small compared to your usual large and boisterous self. Have you always been this small? Or was this something he was just realizing now?

It settled in his mind, suddenly, that he was right. His assumptions, rash and brazen, were right.

It made him queasy, lightheaded, as he stared at you.

“Y/N…” He uttered with a pale face. He desperately wanted to reach out, to grasp your shoulder— make some type of contact. But his limbs wouldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing or blinking. His mind just repeated the one fact he knew over and over.

You wanted to die. You didn’t care if you died out there, alone, because it was all the same to you. You were waiting for death as it was waiting for you. Like an old friend. You wanted to die.

Suguru felt the overwhelming urge to cry as it all settled. “You want to die?” He couldn’t help the whisper as he stared at you in horror.

Your cheeks were a deep crimson red, tears pooling in your eyes as you took a step back from him. “It-It’s not like that.”

Suguru slowly shook his head. “Y-Yo—“ You shouldn’t feel like that. Is what he wanted to say. But what good would that do? You knew that. You probably prayed you didn’t every day.

“I just— you guys are so important to the school and-and to me! If you guys died, they’d be scrambling and a lot of people would probably suffer. But if I died, then who would even care—?”

“I would!” Suguru couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Here he was, almost 16, crying in front of you. But he needed you to know he cared. That life wouldn’t be the same without you gracing it. He reached forward, grabbing your hands in a vice like grip. “I would care! If you died I would be miserable and I would miss you like crazy. Don’t say no one would care because, if it doesn’t matter that I care, then everyone would. You’re important to everyone. You matter.”

Your eyes were on him now, wide and unsteady as you regarded him with confusion and disbelief. “Suguru—“

“We would all care. Satoru would be so annoying without your stupid quips. Shoko would be miserable if there wasn’t anyone to get her cigarettes when she forgets. And I…I would lose it if you were dead. I would. I would lose my mind, I’d do something crazy like… like leave everything behind.” It felt wrong to say. To put such weight on you, but he needed to know the role you played. How important you are. He clenched his jaw in determination, eye contact unwavering as he squeezed your hands. “I’ll prove it to you. I swear on it. I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”

“Better than anything I could say.” He heard Satoru utter behind them, then the tell tale yelp that came after Shoko slapped him upside the head.

You didn’t let that distract you as you fell forward into his arms. Clutching at his uniform as you let out a small cry. He held you up and listened as you dumped years worth of pain into his chest. Suguru couldn’t ever recall seeing you like this before. He never really wanted to see it again. You didn’t say anything in response to his rather embarrassing ramble to you. No, not to that.

Instead, all you said in return was, “thank you.”

II. 2006

Suguru was in love with you and Satoru.

He realized it the afternoon in Okinawa, all of you walking through the aquarium as Riko pointed out various fish that she knew too much information about. Of course, he wasn’t listening. He was much too focused on you and Satoru. The both of you had snuck away to a gift shop— proclaiming that you needed mementoes and souvenirs for your friends back home. You adorned an octopus hat while Satoru had various fish stickers pressed to his cheeks. You both more resembled children on a field trip than highly esteemed sorcerers.

Suguru loved it. He loved you both.

It was a sudden and rather scary realization.

It came over him as you placed another sticker on Satoru's face. The both of you releasing absurd laughs that had no business sounding so lovely. He could feel the small smile blossom on his own lips as Satoru argued that he'd have the "gooey stuff" all of his face later, which made you promise to help him clean it off with a rag. Then you placed a delicate kiss against his cheek. It was so nonchalant, something they should all be used to, but it was always so jarring. Satoru stared at you with wide eyes behind his glasses, then he grinned. Wide and devious.

Suguru's heart soared.

He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to grab both of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. To promise his heart and his life to you both. It would be easy. It would be mere second nature to him. Suguru may just be realizing how deeply he loved you and Satoru, but he was almost sure that he'd felt this way since month five of your first year.

Surely, it shouldn't be a surprise. You three had been getting bold lately. Shoko was even commenting on it. The late nights in your room, the both of them curled up at your side. The domesticity of one of you returning to your dorm and being greeted by the other two. You all had a routine. A promise to come back through the door and have another fight of arguing over what's for dinner. Or something obscure that he wouldn't put up with with anyone else.

He just wanted to tell you and Satoru that he finally feels normal in the world. With you both by his side. That when he has your skin pressed against his, he feels like he could take on the world. That Satoru makes him feel childish and free like he couldn't be when he was a kid. That his kisses were sweet and soft. He just wanted to tell you that he loved you.

But Suguru saw your eyes stray away from Satoru's and the smile faded away. "We have to give her a choice." You said suddenly.

Both Satoru and Suguru moved their attention to Riko. The girl was standing in front of a expansive tank, watching in amazement as the fish zoomed by. The girl unaware of their watchful eyes as she turned to Kuroi and asked her to enjoy the fish too.

Suguru and Satoru had acknowledged that you were probably the last person who should be on this mission almost immediately. It wasn't that you weren't well fit for it, or that you would be too detached, or not want to get involved— it was that you had warmed up to Riko immediately. The girl had become your shadow. She asked about your technique and how "two idiots" like them were able to be in your presence. She amused you and you amused her. Then she asked you what you thought about her merger and you told her you thought it was something you shouldn't get involved in.

But Suguru and Satoru saw it in your eyes. They knew what you thought the moment Yaga had said the word "erase".

You wanted to save her.

"I knew you'd say that." Satoru snorted, leaning back against the tank they stood before. His eyes rolled upwards to look at the dolphin swim pass across from them. "You're always meddling."

You glared at him. "I don't meddle!"

"You do." Satoru said fondly. "What did I say, Suguru? They'd meet the girl and meddle, right?"

You snapped your eyes to Suguru who shyly stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "You did say that." I did not. Suguru used kinder words— like you cared about Riko and you'd probably not want to see her throw away her barely lived life for Tengen-sama.

You pouted, picking at the railing next to Satoru. "Am I that predictable?"

"Only because we know you so well." Satoru teased with a small smile. Then his eyes cut back to Riko who was gradually making her way further down the area. As much as Satoru would deny it, Suguru could tell that he'd come to grow fond of the girl as well. "What do you propose we do, exactly?"

Now Suguru was looking back to you. He could see the shock in your eyes as they snapped up to Satoru— as if you couldn't believe he was playing into whatever ideas you were tossing around. There was a spark of hope in your eyes and Suguru had to look away to prevent the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Instead, he'd let his heart do that weird skip it usually did whenever you and Satoru were particularly adorable.

"All I want is for her to have a choice," Your voice was compassionate as you started. The look in your eyes distant as you turned your attention towards the small tank in front of you three. The portioned tank that had different beta fishes separated. Together they're deadly. Apart, they find peace. Riko had explained. "The way she's talked about everything... the merger with Tengen-sama— that's what she was born for. She's proud of it. But given the choice, she wanted to spend her last day with her friends. She wanted to go to school and hang out with them because she knew she'd never see them again. Instead of really wanting to do this, she's just doing it because she feels like she has to. Where's the freedom in that?"

Suguru smiled softly at you. "So we give her a choice." He agreed with a small nod, finding satisfaction with the brightness in your eyes.

"We'll have to fight Tengen, you know that?" Satoru kept his eyes steady on Riko as he questioned the two of you. Both of you blink, obviously not having considered that detail. "They'll put up a fight— probably other sorcerers too. Freeing Riko might mean we leave Jujutsu High."

Suguru let his mind wander. Would he really mind if the three of you left? Not really. If the three of you have to fight Tengen-sama, then he'd gladly fight them by your side. If you both wanted, he'd destroy the world. Then gladly live his final moments with you both at his side. That was a fact that he knew to be true in his soul.

"I'll gladly do so." You answered without hesitation. Of course you would, you self sacrificial fool. A bitter part of Suguru said. There was no question that you'd put your life on the line for Riko. "If her choice is to live life, then I'll fight Tengen."

"And you'll win?" Satoru asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "We're the strongest, aren't we? Us three?"

Something about your words made Suguru 100% sure that he wouldn't allow you both to walk alone in the world. Together, there wasn't anything you three couldn't take on.

Satoru finally turned from Riko to stare at you with a self assured smirk.

Oh, Suguru thought with a stutter in his heart. He'd already made up his mind before you did.

"Well, well! I thought you were above all that we're the strongest crap!" Satoru teased, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you rolled your eyes. "Don't be so entitled, Satoru. You're making Haibara and Nanami feel less than, Satoru. You sound ignorant, Satoru. Look who's high and mighty now!"

"Oh, stop!" You pushed his arm away, but your smile was fond. You turned back to the beta fish. "Sure, it's a little entitled, but right now, I'm being nice."

"Thank you, thank you, my beloved royalty." Satoru dramatically bowed before you. You uttered something about him being dramatic, which went ignored. The white haired sorcerer reached over and slapped Suguru's arm, peeking at him fondly from behind his glasses. "Suguru, bow for your deity!"

Suguru was about to decline, until you spoke up. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Don't do that." Suddenly, he felt inclined to follow suit.

Both of them were now bowed behind you, uttering their dramatic praises as you blushed, attempting to ignore them as people walked pass and stared. Suguru peeked up at you as you watched the beta fish swim around. In that moment, he prayed that nothing changed.

Things weren't right.

Things weren't right but you were so calm.

Silently, Suguru could only shoot a thankful glance in your direction as the elevator creaked under the strain of four people. He could tell you were worried but your expression was determined to stay pieced together. Satoru was above ground, fighting against that man— Suguru couldn't think about it. It was too much in the mess of things.

The elevator came to a screeching halt and there was no hesitation on your part to push the doors open. You seemed quicker, your movements a little stilted as you exited the elevator and, instead of looking at the three behind you, you kept your gaze on the various entrances. He could tell you were irritated. He could tell you were worried. Or nervous.

No, you were scared.

His attention turned towards Riko and Kuroi who were exchanging a heartfelt, tearful goodbye. They clutched onto each other— Kuroi told her to be brave and Riko promised she would. Then they separated and Suguru promised that he'd come back once everything was done to escort Kuroi to safety.

The trek to the Star Corridor was long and quite.

There wasn't much Suguru could say to comfort you because there wasn't much he could reassure himself with. His worries for Satoru were overbearing in his mind and he couldn't try and fool himself into trying to bear the weight of your anxiety as well. Both of you knew this, so you didn't dare try to comfort one another.

There's nothing wrong. Everything's going to be okay. We're the strongest. Satoru will join us once this is over. Were the things Suguru soothed himself with.

"Is this...?" Riko uttered as they finally broke through to the outskirts of where Tengen homes themself.

"Yes," Suguru confirmed as he came to a stop beside the younger girl. "We're just outside of where Master Tengen resides. This is the country's base for primary barriers. The main hall of the tombs of the Star Corridor."

"Basically, it's their home." You said flatly, coming to Riko's other side, your eyes moving over the vast area. It was quiet, dark, and looked isolated. Nothing that brought any welcomeness for the eternity to come.

Suguru tried not to let his gaze linger on the woeful look painting your face now. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Go down the stairs and pass the gate. Then head toward the base of that huge tree. It's protected by a different barrier than the one around Jujutsu High. Only those invited may enter. You'll be protected by Master Tengen until the merger."

Riko's expression turned sorrowful as she followed the path Suguru paved with her eyes. This was the end. Her fun and the little life she lived was at its finish. She clenched her hands at her sides and made a move to continue forward, without them.

"Or we can turn back and go home to Kuroi."

Riko's eyes snapped to you. Your eyes were compassionate and a small smile graced your features that was more reassuring than any words that could be spoken. She looked a little pale, but the glow of hope suddenly appeared.

"What?" The girl uttered.

You turned to her fully, keep your expression soft. "When our taecher assigned us this mission, he used the word 'erase'. It's like, deep down, he knew something was wrong with this and, for a muscle guy, he doesn't usually beat around the bush." You looked like you wanted to chuckle at your own jab at Yaga, but didn't have the energy. Instead, you sighed. "I talked to Suguru and Satoru and we all came to the decision that if the kid who is the Star Plasma Vessel should refuse the merger then we call it off."

Riko's eyes widened even further and tears were on the cusp of falling as she stared at the both of you.

"We're the strongest," Suguru offered gently, offering a closed eyed smile to the girl. "No matter what you choose, we promise to protect your future."

Riko's lips quivered as her eyes bounced between you two and the vast nothingness of Tengen's home. She took in a shaky breath. "Ever since I was born, I've been told I'm special and different. Being special was normal for me. I've survived till now by staying away from danger... My parents died in a car crash. I don't remember it. I'm not say or lonely anymore." She started to fiddle with her hands as her words grew more unsteady. You moved to press against her side, hands rested against her shoulders. "That's why... with the merger, I thought I'd be okay... leaving everyone. No matter how painful it became, I believed that, some day, the sadness and loneliness would disappear."

"You just need the right person." You uttered to her, her eyes snapping up at you as tears silently streamed down her face. "You need that one person to prove that there's beautiful things out there— that there's kindness and love. I know. I understand, Riko."

The girl bursts into tears, a trail of snot ran from her nose as she shook with her cries. "I want to stay with everyone a bit longer!" Her voice seemed to echo around the two of you. "I want to go to more places and see more things with everyone! More!"

Both you and Suguru smiled softly. His hand reached out while you squeezed her shoulders. "Riko, let's go home." He beckoned her forward.

"Yeah!"

Suguru registered the shot last second, but it was too late for him to truly do anything.

He's never quite seen anything like it.

You were smiling, you looked free from your worries for one second.

Then you were falling. Your face slack and eyes blank. You fell against the ground with a deafening thud. Blood pooled around your head, chunks of your brain scattered across the ground. Your eyes.

They're so blank.

Suguru barely registered Riko's scream. His eyes couldn't leave you even as the girl screamed and screamed, hands clutching at her head as she stared at your body beside her.

You were just speaking a moment ago. You were smiling. How could this happen?

Your eyes are so blank.

"Y-Y/N...." Suguru uttered, eyes wide and face pale.

He felt sick. He didn't feel right. This wasn't right. Why were you on the ground? Why were you bleeding? Why can't he move? Why can't he breathe? Are you going to get up? Please get up.

Riko continued to scream. She just wouldn't stop. Her once hopeful eyes were now reduced to horror and terror as she smeared the blood covering the side of her face. None of it hers.

It's yours.

Your eyes are blank.

What are you doing? Get up. Get up. Smile. Just breathe. Get up. Please, I'll do anything. I'll listen to you ramble about those books you love so much. I'll buy you those disgusting snacks you crave. I'll do anything for you.

Please don't die.

Your eyes are blank.

"Oh," groaned a voice that rattled Suguru's soul. "I missed."

Suguru slowly turned his head to stare at the man. The one that had stabbed Satoru through the chest and had talked to him like an old friend. The one that was now standing, clutching a gun in his hand, pouting as if he was amused by his miscalculation.

As if your death was something he hadn't accounted for.

"How..." Suguru's voice doesn't feel like his own. It feels like he's out of body. As if something else is controlling him. He felt something warm on his cheek, but he couldn't reach for it. His limbs felt heavy, his hands cold. What was happening? Why did everything feel so muddled? "How'd you get here?"

Still, Riko screamed.

Still, your eyes were blank.

The man frowned. "How...?" Suddenly, he chuckled and pressed the side of the gun to his temple. "I see. I killed Gojo Satoru."

Suguru was swarmed with an unfamiliar feeling of rage. You and Satoru had once praised him for his ability to remain calm and level headed when things seemed to crumbled around all of you. He was the voice of reason— your moral compass. The map that lightened your way.

Suddenly, he felt like he was reduced to nothing but rage and this empty feeling in his chest.

Your eyes are blank.

Gojo Satoru is dead.

"I see..." Suguru growled, his eyes unmoved from the man across from him. "Then die!"

III. 2007

Suguru didn't feel right.

Although, he hadn't felt right for 11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds.

He hadn't been right since the moment you dropped dead.

Your eyes were blank.

He wasn't enough to fight against Fushiguro Toji. The man had ruthlessly downed him then killed Riko. It was like it was nothing. He came, he killed, then he left.

Suguru had laid amongst the rubble of Toji's doing and stared into your blank eyes. He still wasn't sure how long it was. He couldn't move and he could barely breathe as the blood from his chest trickled to the stone and concrete under him. Your eyes stared lifelessly into his own. Endlessly. A never-ending staring contest that he pleaded to end.

The entire time he laid on the floor of Tengen's barrier. His mind only repeated one thing.

Please get up. Please be alive. Please get up. Please get up.

Your brains had scattered across the floor and your eyes were unmoving but he spent so much time just pleading with you to snap out of it. He thought he was enough. He apologized for not being enough.

Please get up. I promised to prove it to you.

There was a point he passed out. He could remember thinking, thankfully, that he was going to die. And he swore he heard your gurgled call for him.

Then, he woke up.

Shoko had looked distraught. He could still remember the way she eyed him wearily through red rimmed eyes. Cautious as she told him that you were dead. As she told him Satoru was gone.

Gone. But not dead.

Suguru had, very briefly, rejoiced in Satoru's survival.

Shoko said she cleaned your blood off his cheek.

Suguru hated her for a while after that.

He didn't stay at the infirmary for long. Despite Shoko telling him that Yaga wanted to see him and that he shouldn't move around yet, he dragged himself away. He dragged himself to the cult. He dragged himself along the side walk with his mind flashing with images of your blank eyes.

Was that all death was? Nothingness? Did it comfort you? Did it welcome you? Was it everything you imagined?

His mind wouldn't rest.

He could remember as he entered the building. As he heard the resounding and endless applause. He mindlessly entered and was meant with a never-ending crowd, parting as they just clapped, and clapped, and clapped. It rumbled through his ears, bouncing around his brain.

Your eyes were blank.

When the crowd parted, he remembered the clench of his heart as Satoru, bloodied and blank, appeared. He carried Riko's body in his arms. Lifelessly moving forward. His eyes stared right through Suguru.

"You're late," Satoru had teased blankly. His voice distant and flat. It missed its usual punch. "No.... I guess your're early."

Suguru remembered the confusion that washed over him as he stared at the one he loved. "Satoru... is that you...?"

What happened to you?

"It looks like you saw Shoko." Satoru had sounded like he wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings. Or he didn't care. "Is Y/N there right now?"

Suguru didn't have the heart then. He could remember silently apologizing to you, but he hadn't thought Satoru could handle the news of your death amongst this room.

"Shoko fixed me up fine." His eyes had moved to Riko's limp hand and he felt sick. Her screams were still in his mind. He almost threw up. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who messed up. Don't worry about it." Satoru had easily deflected.

Suguru couldn't handle the clapping. They just didn't stop. They clapped, and clapped, and clapped.

Your eyes were blank.

"Suguru," Satoru's voice had stopped him in his tracks. His voice was so detached and so odd. Suguru couldn't handle much change then. He couldn't handle hearing Satoru so different. Not then. "Do you want to kill them all?"

Suguru could remember the shock that shook his body. Could remember the bitterness that immediately followed. The realization that he would love nothing more than to unleash the worst on these people and sum their deaths up as their lives— useless.

"Suguru," He had sworn he heard your voice, distorted and all too sweet. His back stiffened and his eyes widened. "Do you hate them, Suguru?"

He did. He hated them. He wanted them all to burn. He wanted them to suffer. Suguru would've loved nothing more than to have heard all of them plead for their lives. To have the same terror that Riko had when she realized her life was coming to an end. To have that same blank look in their eyes as you had.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's pointless." Suguru had shot down emotionless. He still wasn't sure if he was answering that tiny voice in his head or Satoru, maybe it was both. Who really cared?

"Pointless, huh?" Satoru walked past Suguru and started to make his way outside. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"Of course, it's important." Suguru had easily answered. "Especially as Jujutsu Sorcerers."

11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds later, he believed that was all bullshit.

It surprised him how much and how little could change in a year.

The way everyone seemingly returned to normal and he was left in the past.

Suguru felt like his life was now segregated into two sections: Before the Star Plasma Vessel assignment and after the Star Plasma Vessel assignment. Before and after you.

He realized, quickly and bitterly, that the after you was worse than the before.

Before he knew of your existence, he was happy to be alone. He embraced the fact that kids at school thought him odd, unapproachable. That they would whisper about his habits behind his back. He was happy to know that no one wanted to be around him. It meant they didn't see what he saw. He didn't know anything else.

But the after you was considerably worse.

You had given him that breath of fresh air. That love that he had unknowingly reached out for his entire life. The way you and Satoru had touched him, he didn't even know his heart ached for that type of love. He didn't know he was depraved until you showed him.

He hated it. For a moment, he hated you.

In the first weeks after your death, he felt angry. He was bitter. Even as Satoru rubbed his back in bed. Even as he told Suguru it wasn't his fault. Even as everyone told him that you would hate to see him like that. He felt a hatred. A regret.

For months, he hated you.

He'd ignore topics centered around you. He ignored the day that Shoko and Satoru cleaned out your dorm for a new first year. He was stagnant and blank at the funeral your family held. When everyone walked up to recall memories about you, he didn't. He just listened and he thought that none of them truly captured you. They said you were kind, that you were funny, that you went our of your way to help whoever needed it.

If it was Suguru up there, he would've said you were selfish. That you always put your life on the line when it wasn't needed. That you were arrogant. That you could really make him worry.

But he loved you.

That's what he hated most. Isn't that the worst?

He hated that he loved the way he missed your hugs, your reassurances. He hated that he missed worrying about you. That he wouldn't ever see you again. That he wouldn't join you on a mission and be forced to listen to Yaga or fellow students worry about your sanity. He missed that sometimes you would play into Satoru's words, like saying the three of you were strongest together.

"Hey," Satoru called from across the training yard. Suguru barely looked up. "Have you lost some weight? Are you okay?"

Satoru became "The Strongest". His abilities were starting to blossom and it allowed him to work by himself. The higher-ups sent them alone. And Suguru hadn't felt more confined in his life.

"I'm just a little tired from the summer heat." Suguru easily explained it away, his hands buried deep within his pockets. "It's not a problem."

"Maybe you had too much somen noodles?" Satoru asked, niavely.

"No," Suguru wanted to snap at him. "It's the fact I can't eat without feeling sick. I can't taste anything except the fucking vomit of the curses. I hate it. I hate it. I'm always sick. I'm so hungry. But I can't eat."

Instead, he sighed. "Maybe."

The curse population was springing up like maggots. Everywhere and all consuming. The summer had been busy and Suguru truly was tired. In his heart, he started to blame the mess of last year for the increase of curses. It was easier to blame that than nothing. It was better to put a face to his suffering rather than blame himself.

The repetitiveness of his life was becoming crushing.

An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.

Exorcise. Consume.

You had once asked him what curses tasted like. Under a beautiful tree and a beautiful night sky. You stared at him from your place on the ground. "Suguru, what does it taste like?"

"It's a taste nobody knows." He had explained. "Like ingesting a rag used to wipe up vomit."

Exorcise. Consume.

"Oh," You had uttered, a heavy frown on your lips as you pondered on it. "I'm sorry."

Exorcise. Consume.

He didn't need your pity then. But it had been nice. It felt nice for someone to pretend they understand the disgust, the bitter tang. He pretended that it helped.

"Thanks."

Then, you asked, "Would it help if you had mints?"

No. "Yes."

That first Christmas you all spent together, you got him mints. And, despite it doing nothing, he still popped one in his mouth every time. False hope that something could push down the disgust he had for his technique, for what he was considered special for. What lengths he went to save people.

For what?

Every since that day, the day you and Riko died, it's been running through Suguru's head. That everything he saw, Toji, your blood, your brains, the never-ending applause of the cult members— it was a hideous evil known to everyone. What he saw wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Still, knowing that, he protects them as a Jujutsu sorcerer.

"We can't lose our way." You had reassured one day when the curse you and him were fighting was particularly ruthless. It had killed so many people that the both of you hadn't been the same for weeks. "Don't lose your way. We just have to follow through with our duty as sorcerers."

The thunderous applause took over that of his heart.

"Monkeys." Suguru uttered in the shower. The first time he whispered it. His eyes unmoving from the wall as the water trickled down, down, and down.

Your eyes were blank.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

His hand clenched above him. "Fucking monkeys."

He snapped the water off and robotically dried himself off.

Suguru felt like he was merely living through the motions. That he was being guided other peoples words and the wind itself. He was merely a leaf being blown away. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do to ground himself and force himself to take the wheel. To be in control. He could only watch on.

He found himself hunched over on the bench near the vending machines. He barely acknowledged the rain that poured outside. It was one of those days. Those days where the weather matched his mood and made it considerably worse. Maybe he could get away with hiding inside his dorm. Being curled on the bed and not appearing until the rain was well gone— when Satoru couldn't ask him if he's ate.

He closed his eyes in defeat. How could loneliness possibly feel worse now than it did then? He'd been alone for years before. Why was it worse now?

"Hi! Mister Geto!"

Suguru's eyes snapped open and dragged upwards. "Haibara..."

You liked Haibara. You said so on his first day. When he enthusiastically introduced himself to everyone— gave his blood type and his family history. You had laughed for twenty minuets. You said that Haibara was like a breath of fresh air. He had no idea what he was getting into and he was happy. Suguru said you were looking into it too much. You didn't agree. Then you invited both him and Nanami to join you all on a trip to Shinjuku.

You liked Haibara. He was sweet.

You liked Haibara. So did Suguru.

"Hope all is well!" Haibara continued, seemingly ignorant to the war raging on in Suguru's mind.

You liked Haibara. You trained him. He was sweet.

So did Suguru. "What can I get you to drink?" Suguru asked, pulling some change from his pockets.

"I couldn't possibly—" Haibara's eyes glanced at the vending machine then his eyes brightened. "I'll take a coke!"

Suguru couldn't help the little laugh that broke through his lips. Amusement in his eyes for the first time in a while as he gently dropped the change into the junior's cupped palm. Haibara pratically skipped over to the vending machine, dropping the coins in, and retrieved his coke.

Fully expecting him to carry on with a thanks, Suguru was a little surprised that he sat down beside him and smiled big.

"My mission tomorrow is pretty far away." The boy started, wiggling with excitement.

Suguru smiled softly. "That so? I'll be expecting a souvenir then."

"You got it! Something sweet or savory?"

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

This was the normal. It felt refreshing for everything to be so normal. A silent agreement amongst the second and third years to get everyone who asked a souvenir from their respective mission areas. It made for interesting foods or items. Silly things that he could place on his shelf or for him to take a bite and Satoru to steal the rest. Usually complaining about how no one ever gets him anything. Just like Okinawa when you picked that hat—

Your eyes were empty.

Suguru's smile faded away.

"Haibara..." He spoke, not entirely aware if his junior was speaking before he was. But Haibara's eyes moved to him with curiosity. He bowed his head once again. "Are you okay with being a Jujutsu sorcerer? Doesn't it bother you?"

Immediately, the junior took the question seriously. His chin rested between his finger and thumb, eyes narrowed in thought. "Hm... good question..." He uttered, a vague pout on his lips. "I'm not really the type to think too hard about things..."

"I don't think we should underestimate Haibara or Nanami." You had defended the two new boys against Satoru's beratement one day. Your eyes cut to where they were practicing against Yaga's cursed dolls. "We all started somewhere. I'm sure they'll surprise us one day."

"Giving my all toward something I know I can help with is a great feeling!" Haibara finally answered, snapping his fingers and looking at Suguru head on.

Suguru couldn't help the way his eyes widened. For whatever reason, his answered shocked him. It was a pure answer. Further proof that Suguru was different from everyone else. Proved that he was slowly losing a part of himself. Haibara hadn't been graced with the same tragedy he had. He didn't know the cruelty of people and was still hopeful.

"I see..." Suguru uttered, looking away once again.

"You're right." Spoke another voice that neither of them know. Both of the boys looked over to the woman that stood a few feet from them. She was tall, long blonde hair and she wore a smile on her face. "Are you Geto? What kind of girls are you into?"

Your eyes were blank.

He only stared in return.

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Haibara answered happily.

Suguru frowned. "Haibara."

"It's fine!" He turned to Surguru with a bright light in his eyes. "She's not a bad person. I'm a pretty good judge of character!"

Suguru felt something in his chest shift.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

"You say that while sitting next to me?" He uttered, sparing the junior a sidelong glance.

"Of course!" Haibara didn't hesitate.

The woman laughed, resting a hand on her hip. "He was being sarcastic, kid!"

No, I'm not. Suguru almost felt compelled to say. But he didn't have the energy. There wasn't any point in arguing with this stranger either. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Something he would happily continue to stay true.

Embarrassed, Haibara excused himself with the woman quickly taking his spot. In an instant, Suguru drew back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is he your junior? Such an honest and cute kid."

Suguru couldn't help the distasteful glare he sent from the side. "As a jujutsu, he shouldn't be so trusting." He said bitterly.

The woman looked a little discouraged by his little jab, but continued on. "And you, Geto? Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first— who are you?"

The woman raised her chin, a small smirk on her lips. "Special grade sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo. Ring a bell?"

"You're the...?"

Yes. Yes, it did. Suguru thought bitterly.

He could distinctly recall you rambling on about Tsukumo. On how you wished you could be like her. Someone highly recognized and didn't care what the higher-ups said— just lived her life. To Suguru, it sounded like Tsukumo was kind of a failure. But to you, it was as if she was a symbol of something amazing. Proof that something that was suddenly attainable to you.

Suguru had been convinced you just had a crush on her.

"Nice! The what?"

Suguru clenched his jaw at her interruption of his thoughts. "The no-good special grade who doesn't take on any missions and just bums around overseas." He informed her flatly.

The woman's smile slipped away and she pouted heavily. "I hate Jujutsu High!" She fell back, her elbows rested on the back of the bench. She sulking. "Just kidding. But I'm not lying when I say we don't see eye-to-eye. What they do here is treat symptoms. What I want is to get at the root cause."

Suguru couldn't help perking up with interest. "The root cause?" He asked slowly.

"I don't want to exorcise curses after they appear. I want a world where curses don't even exist."

He stared at her in shock. A world without curses? He felt like he could almost rejoice. His heart gave a little skip and he almost felt like things were normal.

"How about a little lesson? Tell me, what are curses anyway?"

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Curses are created when cursed energy leaks from humans. It then gathers like sediment and takes form." He answered easily. It was something taught in their first year, something everyone knows.

"Excellent," Tsukumo encouraged, nodding. "If that's the case, there are two ways to create a world where curses no longer exist: one, eradicate cursed energy from all humanity. Two, teach humans how to control their cursed energy. The first one's not a bad idea. There was a model case for it after all."

"A model case?"

"Someone you're familiar with: Zen'in Toji."

Almost instantly, Suguru felt an anger rush over him. Toji. That was someone else that he tried to avoid thinking about. Usually, it only led to thoughts darker than when he thought about you. He thought about the various things he would've done to Fushiguro if given the chance. The slow and torturous death he would've given to him if he had the chance. He doubted it would eat away the hatred in his heart, but Suguru would take anything to have him suffer as you did. As he did.

"There have been several cases where heavenly restriction has reduced a person's cursed energy to normal levels. But to eradicate one's cursed energy completely... I've searched all over the world, and he's the only one who's ever done it. But that's not the only thing that's interesting about him. Despite not having cursed energy, Zen'in Toji was able to sense curses using his five sense. By eliminating all cursed energy, his body became sharpened to the point where he developed a resistance to curses."

A part of Suguru really wanted to tell Tsukumo that he didn't care. That monster died and he was glad to hear it. Even if he was the only way to get rid of curses, he was overjoyed that the man was dead now.

"Don't feel bad about losing him." Suguru scoffed, face blank. "I wanted to research him but he blew me off. It's too bad he died."

You smiled at Riko. You held her shoulders. You were going to take her home.

Your eyes were blank.

I killed Gojo Satoru.

"Cases of heavenly restriction are few and far between. So my focus is on two." Tsukumo seemed completely unaware of Suguru's mind raging on while she spoke. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Did you know, jujutsu sorcerers don't give birth to curses?"

That snapped Suguru out of his thoughts. He slowly dragged his eyes to stare at the side of the woman's head as she carried on.

"Of course, that's excluding cases where sorcerers become curses after death—" Do you hate them, Suguru? "—The amount of cursed energy that leaks from sorcerers, compared to from non-sorcerers, is extremely low. There is a difference in how much we consume and use cursed energy because of our profession. But the real reason lies in how it flows through us. For sorcerers, it flows heavily within us. If we're talking general terms— if every single human became a jujutsu sorcerer, no curse would ever be born again."

Suguru's world as he knew it, paused.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Those people. Humans. Non-sorcerers. They created the world that killed you. They created a world where he was alone.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"Then why not just kill every non-sorcerer?" He asked softly, not daring to lift his head or eyes from between his feet.

There was a silence between the two of them that made him tense up. He said something wrong. But why didn't it feel wrong? Why didn't the suggestion disgust him or make him sweat? Why did it feel like an idea that was meant to be said?

"Geto," Tsukumo finally spoke, voice slow and calculated. "That is an option."

What?

"In fact, that might be the easiest route!"

Suguru slowly lifted his eyes from the floor and stared at the woman next to him with wide eyes. Now, he felt it. He felt the sweat on his brow. It's an option. "What?" He uttered, tilting his head to try and meet her eye as she stared into the distance. "Um..."

"Weed out non-sorcerers and make them adapt to a jujutsu sorcerer based society. In other words, forced evolution. Kinda like how birds grew wings. Using dear and danger as a catalyst."

It's an option. Suguru couldn't shake his stare. He was holding his breath and just staring at her.

"But," There it is. "I aint' that crazy."

She looked amused, but she didn't know him. She didn't know his feelings and the fact that he hated—

"Do you hate non-sorcerers, Geto?" She asked it sincerely.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

His eyes went back the floor, ashamed. "I don't know." He started with a whisper. "I used to think jujutsu sorcerers existed to protect non-sorcerers. But recently, I've been doubting whether non-sorcerers are worth fighting for. The preciousness of the weak. The ugliness of the weak. I can no longer tell the difference. The part of me that looks down on non-sorcerers.... the part of me that tries to resist that feeling...."

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

"If being a jujutsu sorcerer is like running a marathon, then the finish line is too unclear." Suguru placed a hand against his forehead, hairs tangled between his fingers. "I don't know what I really feel."

"It's understandable, you know?" Suguru glanced at her with a frown as she eyed him contemplatively. "You watched your friend die, right? It's never easy. Messes you up. I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

You don't.

"Death and mourning something can really conjuring some nasty things in your mind. Like killing non-sorcerers— you want to take that anger out on someone. The anger for your friend's life being taken away." She explained it like it was so easy, as if she knew his next steps when he did not. "But looking down on non-sorcerers... resisting that feeling... those are just possibilities you've thought of. Whatever your true feeling is, you still have to decide."

The conversation didn't lead to anywhere else and Suguru was feeling himself grow more tired the more he stayed away from his dorm. He was about to excuse himself when Tsukumo asked for him to follow her out. She didn't say much on the way out and Suguru was grateful for it.

The woman got on her bike and waved at him. "I'll see ya! I was hoping to say hi to Gojo as well. Bad timing, I guess." She slid her goggles on. "As fellow special grade sorcerers, let's all three of us get along, okay?"

Suguru gave her his best smile, which wasn't much. "I'll send you regards to Gojo."

Tsukumo smiled, starting up her bike. She was about to ride off when she looked back at him. "One last thing. Don't worry about what happened with the Star Plasma Vessel. Whether there was another vessel or another vessel was born— whatever happened, Tengen is stabilized."

He didn't think it possible, but his hatred grew. Tengen is stabilized.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Tengen is stabilized.

Suguru bowed his head as she drove off. "I figured."

What the fuck had you died for, anyway?

Haibara was dead and he'd seen the body. The entire time Suguru thought of you.

As Nanami attempted to hold back tears, as he explained that they were caught off guard by a special grade, Suguru saw you in Haibara's place.

Both of you victims of a system created to protect people who weren't grateful. Who didn't even know you exist. People who had spared both of you not a single glance despite being so caring, so selfless. Who were they to put this unbearable burden on everyone's shoulders then act like you were different?

Haibara was sweet. You liked him. So did Suguru.

Haibara was dead. So were you. Suguru felt hatred build in him.

As he stared at Haibara's bloodied face, he had thought one thing: who would suffer for this death?

Gojo completed the mission. Gojo exorcised the curse. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo.

Gojo.

Why should Gojo be the one wrecking havoc? When it was Suguru that was filled with rage? When he was the one that wanted nothing more than to harm the ones that caused this all?

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"What is this?" Suguru asked slowly, staring at the sight before him.

Two girls seemingly coward away from him. Their faces bloodied and bruised. The cage that contained them offered no comfort. Just the cold hard ground and the darkness. They shook under his gaze and he couldn't find it in himself to look away. He couldn't turn around and question the people behind him. He did not know what he'd do if he looked them in the eyes as they explained themselves.

"What do you mean? These two are responsible for the incident, right?" Asked one man.

Suguru clenched his jaw. "No, they are not."

"These two possess strange powers and often attack the villagers."

This was of your own creation.

"I already dealt with the cause for the incident."

"My grandchild nearly died because of these two!" Protested the elderly woman as if she realized that Suguru wasn't going to believe these two were responsible.

The blonde child leaned forward. "That was because they—"

"Shut up you monsters!"

"Your parents were the same! I knew we should've killed you when you were born!"

As the two adults berated the children, Suguru came to a decision. His heart was no longer torn in two. As he stared at the girl's, his resolution was made.

He lifted his finger and a shadowed curse sprouted. "It-It'll be okay..." The girls stared at him with wide eyes, almost relieved. If he were a different man. If he in a different mindset then, he would've cried over the relief that washed over them. "Do...Don't worry... it'll be o-okay."

He ignored how familiar the voice was, how familiar the words were. He'd grown used to finding something that wasn't there in the curses he had collected. The fact that the ones he barely manifested were the ones that sounded like you the most.

Suguru turned around to the villagers and smiled. One that he hadn't managed to conjure up in some time.

"Let's step outside for a moment, shall we?"

The two followed him out and Suguru wasn't sure what words he said, what movement he made, but he could see the horror in their eyes. As he manifested his beloved curses, the one people like them had created, he felt an anger bubble up. Emotions that he had desperately pushed aside in an attempt to continue his life were now running their way to the forefront of his mind.

The grief of losing you. The anger of the complete disregard of you life by the society as a whole. The fact that there was nothing left of you now. Nothing—

"Suguru, do you hate them?"

His body stiffened. His wide eyes dragged from the horrified, begging people before him, to over his shoulder. The shadow that loomed over him now.

He'd read about this before. It was some obscure book he found while researching previous curse manipulators. It talked about various things that he used to prove to Yaga that he was learning something. One section had piqued his interest, but it was never information that he'd use in random day-to-day. Vengeful spirits. Usually, this only happened after sorcerers die without jujutsu being used against them. Their very soul and spirit is corrupted and transformed into something horrible. Something darker than who they truly were in life.

As Suguru stared at the spirit before him now, he knew what he had inadvertently done to you. The way your large body curled around him, wisps of what should be hair floating above you, your body clad in an open and flowing kimono. What caught his eyes the most, were your own eyes. Despite being almost invisible, he was relived. They were not blank. Instead, they looked like they burned with the rage he had held back for years.

It was as if you were the extension of his very soul.

"It should be noted that if you find yourself attached to a vengeful spirit: You must establish a clear master/servant bond. As the spirit is attached to your own soul, they musn't be allowed to overcome you. If exorcism is not an option, then create a clear set of rules. Summon them only when necessary. Vengeful spirits are not to be taken lightly."

"Suguru, do you hate them?" Your eyes did not leave his.

This time, he didn't hesitate nor lie. "Yes."

He heard them whimper in fear.

You moved unnaturally, but he didn't care. "Do you want them to die, Suguru?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Your hand rested on his shoulder and he didnt even care if your talon like nails dug into his flesh. He watched, awestruck, as you turned your feral gaze onto the cowering villagers. "Can I hurt them for you, Suguru?"

Despite your state, despite what it meant for him, he couldn't help but feel the warmth blossom through his chest. He basked in the feeling of your brushed against his shoulder.

"Yes."

An unnatural smile creeped over your face and your shot forward, now clutching your katana.

All Suguru could think was: you're back.

"Suguru....what have you done?"

Geto adjusted his gojogesa with a emotionless mask over his face. The bags that had adorned his eyes for the past year were mostly gone. He was finally able to eat. His mind wasn't constantly ringing with that thunderous applause or the thud of your body. Instead, he was free. There was silence.

Except whenever you spoke.

"Where did you get that energy? Suguru, answer me!"

He had seen Gojo a week ago. He had said his goodbyes, vaguely masked as threat. Geto knew what they were now. Enemies by default. He knew it couldn't be long before the higher-ups found out about the village— known exactly what he'd become that night. He was a curse user.

God, was that a great feeling.

Geto was giddy that night. He couldn't help the giddiness he felt with his freedom. The happiness he felt as he held Nanako and Mimiko in his arms, trekking through the woods to the main street where he dragged them to his parent's house. That whole situation had been something in itself. Their anger, their confusion, the heartbreak for not understanding their son anymore.

Geto had simply taken what he needed for the twins, then left you to take care of his parents.

"You feel it, don't you, Gojo? You see them."

There was an assortment of things that Geto found himself doing after he defected. He suddenly found himself in the place of taking care of two twin girls that clung to his clothes and followed his every word like he was the Buddha guiding them towards enlightenment. There big eyes screamed the thank you's that he did not need or would accept. Still, he could tell that they were trying to prove that they were useful to him. Whatever that meant coming from a pair of 6 year olds.

The second thing he'd started was taking over the Star Plasma Religious Group. Although he heard they had disbanded a year prior, it appeared that they were just absorbed by another money hungry fool scamming them for every last cent they had. Not that he was about to go bad mouthing other people's methods for something he was about to do himself. It was surprisingly easy to take over a religious group when you had a vengeful spirit hanging off of you. The men, although easy to get on his side, he still killed. There was no point to their existence now. Not when he had his own plans outside from worshipping the likes of Tengen.

The last thing he was taking care of was you.

"....What did you do?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. They're was always with me."

Geto's adventure back into the books covering vengeful spirits was actually welcomed this time around. As a younger student, he hadn't really cared to think about what would happen to him if he happened to die in a terribly normal way. But now it was something he regarded with the utmost fascination. The different descriptions of vengeful spirits made him ponder exactly what you were.

Violent and seeking revenge. Sad and lost. Unaware they're dead and seeking guidance. Plague that spreads death, leeching off certain hosts. Clingy, they seek approval from the attached for their actions. These spirits had a connection with the host in their life and feel something unfinished in their death.

He could remember the look in Gojo's eyes as his eyes strained to look over Geto's shoulder. The fear and the realization that washed over him. The anger in his eyes as he seemed to grieve over not only Suguru, but you as well. The waver in his voice as he asked Geto what he had done. It almost made Geto feel bad.

Almost.

Gojo had his life laid out for himself. The higher-ups knew what they could do with him. He was practically bred and born for his role amongst everything. He'd live and die the jujutsu society. Something that always unsettled Suguru, but something Geto accepted. He came second. Last compared to jujutsu.

At least he had you. It was you and him first. Then Gojo. He could make this work again. He wouldn't let anything happen to you again.

Geto shifted his attention elsewhere as he flattened his robes.

God, he really did look the part now, didn't he? Except, maybe, the hair. But he wasn't doing anything about it.

"This place is still a religious group to the public, are you okay with that?" Asked one of the nameless faces that Geto would encounter in his life.

He over looked the stage before him with a flat expression. "As long as I can collect curses and money, that's all right." He reassured.

The man frowned, looking at Geto with some vague confusion. "Are you really going out there like that?"

He let a grin spread across his lips. "Why not? Bluffing and looking the part is important."

"Master Geto..."

He spared the twins a soft glance, a reassuring smile gracing his features. He reached down and ruffled their hair gently. "Be sure to watch closely." He whispered to them, watching with a warmth in his heart as they smiled and giggled at one another. "Have they gathered?"

"Directors, representatives. The chairman. And a lot more money waiting."

Geto grinned, taking the microphone from the man, and making his way out onto the stage.

The last time he'd been in the building they were giving a thunderous applause for Riko's death and, by extension, yours. He had been waiting a year to see them all again. To look them in the eyes and find a proper way to make them suffer. To make them feel the same fear or suffering that you and Riko had in your last moments.

"Can everyone hear me? Thank you for waiting, I'll keep this short." He announced as he came to a stop before them all. Nameless faces, judgmental side eyes, questionable whispers to one another. They did not remember Suguru. But he would make sure they remembered Geto. "As of this moment, this group is mine. We'll have a new name as well. You all will obey me."

Instantly, there was a scattered rise of opposition in the crowd.

Geto's grin faltered as he listened to the various questions of exactly who was he made their way to him. He could hear the anger and the confusion. His frustration heightened.

"Well, isn't that a shame." He dragged a hand over his face, eyes grazing the crowd before he grinned one more. He tried to look as inviting as he could, waving a hand at one man in particular. "Mister Sonoda! Could you please come up to the stage? Yes, that's right, you!"

As the older man stood from his seat and hobbled his way up, Geto narrowed his eyes. Despite his smile, his eyes couldn't hide the contempt and the hatred he had for the man before him. He could see that he noticed in the way he faltered on the steps. But pushed through and stood by Geto's eyes.

He made eye contact with Sonoda, then— "Y/N."

He found it easy to summon you. To watch you tear away at the man who had so brazenly ordered Riko's death. To listen to the garbled expressions of hatred you exclaimed as you tore his enemies limb-by-limb. It felt like it was some form a justice. To finally see the horror in their eyes, the blankness of it all. Bittersweet for him to watch.

However, he couldn't stand there and watch you in awe forever. He had people to take under his control.

Geto turned his attention back to the crowd. Satisfaction grew in his chest as he saw the horror and shock fall over their faces. Easily, Geto threw the microphone away.

"Now then, let's try this again." He scowled at the crowd, feeling you loom over his shoulder once again. He used his thumb to brush away some of the blood. "Obey me, monkeys."

III. 2015

"Are you mad at me, Suguru?"

Things had been going smoothly for Geto in the past eight years.

The cult, because that's what he considered it, was running finely. Those who owed money, gave it to him, or else. Those who followed, followed with loyalty, or else. Those who served no purpose, were dealt with. He had created a normal amongst the congregation. A standard that he himself had wanted to watch them scramble to keep. A constant state of panic or devotion for them that fed into his, honestly, growing ego.

Things like his family kept him rather humble.

The girls had grown accustomed to their lives with Geto. They seemed to thrive and love under his care. All of them had grown to a routine that they cherished with one another. They even seemed accustomed to you. The fear and confusion of others wasn't found in their eyes or hearts. Geto never properly explained what happened after death if certain things didn't take place, but they understood anyone. They knew you were important to him— by extension making you important to them.

The other members of the family— Laure, Miguel, Manami, Toshihisa— had a vague understanding of exactly what a vengeful spirit entailed. Although, they weren't jumping at the opportunity to really talk about it. Laure had attempted once, but the conversation died out quickly due to the look on Geto's face. The man was quick to drop the topic once he saw the expression painting the leader's face. Allegedly, he looked ready to kill.

Earlier that day, though, Miguel was braver. And Geto was in a far clearer mood.

"How did it happen?" The man's deep voice asked gently from where he sat across from Geto. Once the confusion set in of his sudden question, he raised an eyebrow at the apparent shadow rested behind his chair. "How did they get cursed?"

Geto himself had thought about it for years. He wondered what point you had been damned blessed to be attached to his soul even after death. It took him a long time. In the mix of things, death and decay, the sharp turn of his ideals— he had barely any time to really think about what made you this spirit clinging onto his life.

Some books said that it could be the connection shared by the host and spirit before death. Others said that hosts had the ability to curse the spirit themselves. That their desperation and their inability to let go was the true reason that sorcerers would live on as something horrible. Something completely opposite as to who they were in life.

He had pushed the thoughts away before they could ever really come to fruition. The possibility that he had been the one to create you into this. The thought alone was enough to twist his stomach. So instead he ignored it. He lived in blissful ignorance.

"Just happens sometimes after death." Geto answered flatly, turning his attention back to his book. He knew there was curiosity amongst his family to know things about you. Afterall, you were considered a part of the family, but there was simply no room to have conversation with you. You either grew hostile or confused and sought Geto out for answers. "Sorcerers whenever they're killed by a non-curse way or something another.

"Hm," Miguel's hum had remained unconvinced as his eyes trailed back to you. As your fingers hovered over the corner of the seat, but you didn't peek out. "There was a couple in my village back home. They were considered the ideal relationship at the time— I was a kid and thought so too. They were kind people. I always enjoyed getting special treatment from the wife, she was like a mother. She was one of the only other people I ever met in my home country that could see curses. Everything was good. But then her husband went and died from sickness. There was something different from the moment she died. She went a little crazy and one day she went and got real angry. Then— boom, there's her husband. But he was different. He was like yours."

Geto hadn't really known what to make of that rather non-sensical story at the time. He had just stared at Miguel before nodding slowly in return. "That's tragic." He wasn't interested in the possibilities.

"Nanako told me it was hard on you when they died." Miguel carried on as if he hadn't very visibly paused for Geto to speak his heart out. "Said that you said it was the reason you're the way you are now."

There was moments where Geto felt frustration with the twins. Their willingness to be so open with the family. Their ability to talk about their emotions so easily. The fact that they couldn't keep a secret for their lives.

The conversation about you had come up when the house was particularly restless and they were morbidly curious. They asked what you were like alive. What he was like as a kid. What the both of you were like in high school. How did you die.

He had looked off distantly and recalled the details— although he left out the gorey, unlikeable parts. He left in the parts where he was sad, that he had a hard time. He explained it in a way that kids like them could understand and use later to make sure they didn't end up the same way. Isolated and full of hatred.

Then, he made the mistake of mentioning Gojo. Their questions fell on deaf ears as he wished them goodnight and tried to drown out the memories of his youth.

"Don't get on her case about it. She's was just curious what certain things meant." Miguel must've taken his silence as anger because he stared at Geto with pleasantly narrowed eyes. "Have you ever considered exactly what happened to them?"

The question wasn't hostile or had any nefarious undertones.

He might as well had threatened Geto though.

Your eyes were blank.

"Please get up."

Geto had quickly excused himself, claiming that he needed to head to bed. He didn't miss the disappointment in Miguel's eyes or the fact that he had tensed up as you drew closer. He didn't want to think about it. What had taken place before, during, and after your death. He didn't need the questions—

"Please get up."

Tonight he couldn't escape it.

Eight years worth of questions and mystery filled his mind. The things he didn't dare address or ponder upon.

Sitting against his headboard, staring blankly into the darkness, he knew exactly how things ended up like this.

Him, a pathetic boy, staring into your lifeless eyes— he had begged for you to be alive. He had laid there with tears in his eyes, a pain in his chest, and a wavering plead breaking from his lips. Before he had fallen unconscious, he reached out his hand.

He reached out his hand.

Your eyes were blank.

Geto knew that he had cursed you. That his pleads and desperately attempt at touching you one last time had somehow damned you. He didn't need to know how it worked. He just knew that it was his fault.

The disgust in Gojo's eyes, the heartbreak, the shock. It was all things Geto deserved. For he had robbed you of the eternal rest you deserved.

The tears collected in his eyes and, for the first time in eight years, he felt a heavy bought of regret press against his chest.

He's known you longer dead than you were alive. Two years of his life had ruled onto the next eight. He had let his grief blind him. He was desperate to not let you go. To keep up some illusion in his head that he would be able to keep you there. To not let you fade away.

Selfish. He'd never been selfish before your death.

"Suguru?"

Your voice, distorted and garbled, was not something that he wanted to hear in that moment. Whatever reason, you were beside the bed now, head rested against your arms. He barely spared you a glance as the tears spilled over.

Selfish. Here you were now. Some weird sense in you to come out and comfort him. He had done this to you. An eternity to comfort him.

Selfish.

"Suguru, are you angry?" You sounded concerned, an odd sound that it didn't seem to fit you now.

Geto clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers. "Only at myself." He uttered.

You inched forward on the bed, a heavy frown spread across your face. "Why are you angry at yourself?"

He finally dragged his eyes to you, lids heavy and face almost as lifeless as your own. "I cursed you." He said it quietly but it felt extremely loud in his empty room. He looked for any realization in your eyes, any type of anger directed at him, but there was nothing. You just stared in return. You should be enraged. "I cursed you. Don't you understand what that means?"

Still, you didn't look angry.

"You saved me—"

"No, no, I didn't." Geto interrupted, closing his eyes in mild irritation. "I didn't... save you. I cursed you. I-I cursed you to stay by my side as I kill. As I kill in your name, you should be angry, Y/N."

“But… they’ve hurt you.” You say it with such confusion and sincerity that it makes him sick.

It’s then that he realizes what this all meant.

If you were alive now, you would look at him with all the rage in the world. You would damn him. You would be disgusted. If you were alive you would probably try to get him to see it all differently. You would tell him that staying with Gojo would’ve been better than this isolation, than this constant feeling in his chest. You would’ve known better than him.

It was then that he realized that he still blamed you for a lot. He wasn’t sure if things would be the same if just Riko died. Or maybe if you all had lived. Would he still be drawn to the same fate only later? Sometimes he was hopeful that he would be the same. Other times he wished he didn’t. All of it led to one thing: his anger for you.

There were some nights he would stay up and think about what you would do in his position. You would forgive them, try to use death as a chance to grow. You were much kinder than him. Or maybe you would be driven insane. None of you had quite tasted death until that mission. You probably would’ve handled things much differently than him if you had seen where Haibara ended up.

Bitterly, Geto thought, you probably would’ve given up.

Your sadness was always prone to taking you down. To whisper those forbidden and nasty things to you until you just wanted to bleed. You admitted to him and Gojo once that you didn’t even think you would make it to high school once. It scared them both, but you always got back up.

Yeah, you wouldn’t handle the sadness.

With a clenched jaw, Geto reached out and held your face. “I made you into this. You only kill and feel that way because that’s how I feel. Doesn’t that make you angry? Don’t you hate me?” He so desperately wanted you to see it from his point of view. He wanted the logic of it all to hit your brain and for you to finally finish what Toji and Gojo couldn’t— properly kill him.

However, just as you were in life, you would never take his life.

“I don’t care about those things.” You uttered in that distorted voice, those eyes of yours filled with emotions that he couldn’t hand pick. “Have I done something to upset you, Suguru?”

"No." Geto answered without hesitation. He pinched his eyes closed and took a deep breath. "I just want you to understand what this is."

He could feel your nail ghost over his thigh. "I understand."

Geto didn't believe you did, but he didn't have the energy to fight you. Not anymore. A part of him would always long to have a good long argument with you. But now it felt different. It felt as if it were all fabricated.

You were too agreeable now.

Please don't die. Please don't leave me.

But he supposed this was his punishment now. For being so desperate.

He rested his hand on top of your head. "Thanks for listening, I guess."

He can deal with the guilt later.

IV. 2017

Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

At least, a part of him was aware that death with a very high likely once he looked Gojo Satoru in the eye and declared war. Maybe even before that as he overlooked the mess of blood and limbs Rika had left behind at the elementary.

Either way, Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

"Hey," You had spoke one day as the three of them lounge in the courtyard. You had your uniform jacket open and your hair loose from the headband you wore to keep it out of your face. A good memory if it weren't for your next question. "Is it good to live a dishonorable life and have a honorable death, or a honorable life with a dishonorable death?"

"Huh? Why would you ask that now?" Satoru had pouted.

You had shrugged. "I mean, Yaga-sensei says that to be a sorcerer we'll have to live with our regrets, but he never talks about honor."

Satoru, in true fashion, rolled his eyes at you before taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Because it's a bunch of self righteous mumbo-jumbo." He had said through a mouth full.

"Whatever." Your eyes dragged to Suguru. Your face had blossomed into a soft smile. "What do you think, Suguru?"

Suguru had frowned, biting on his lower lip as he thought. "I think what we all consider honorable varies. At the end of the day, you'll have to look back on your life yourself and decide whether you lived it worth wild." As you and Satoru stared at him with raised eyebrows, he shyly shrugged. "Don't worry about how honorable or dishonorable you'll be to others— just live a life that'll make you happy."

While you stared at him with someone akin to awe, Satoru stared blankly at him before bowing. "Truly inspirational, Suguru-sama, please invoke more of your wisdom on us!"

You had defended Suguru fervently as Satoru crowed against your assault. Then, he had been unwavering in his beliefs.

Now, Geto Suguru, stumbling down the ally with a missing arm, knew that all was bullshit.

There was nothing honorable or dishonorable about death. It was all a matter how people viewed you at the time. No one would be truly satisfied with their death because there would be a long list of things they wished they had done or hadn't done in their life.

As Yaga had said, they would all die with regrets.

His plans to obtain Rika had been rooted from a place of pure selfishness. His need to find alternative needs that didn't include using you in the most indescribable and unforgiveable way. He knew, deep down, that if he had used you the way that he planed to use Rika's powers— he would never forgive himself.

He hadn't even wanted to use you against Okkotsu Yuta. But that kid was something else. Most definitely a protege of Gojo Satoru. He could recall the caught off guard look on Okkotsu's face once you appeared. The confusion and the shock that overtook him as you wrapped yourself around Geto Suguru. He had uttered something that made the man falter.

"You're like me?"

There were so many things something that could mean.

You're like me: you're cursed with a love by your side, permanently protecting you against things that you didn't think were dangerous.

You're like me: someone had died so close to you that couldn't quite detach themselves from your soul.

You're like me: you cursed another because you couldn't accept that death was final?

Yes, Geto Suguru bitterly thought as his drive to kill Okkotsu grew. I did.

Now, Geto Suguru couldn't even feel you brewing with his soul. He didn't even think there'd be a difference if you ever left him. But there was this odd sense of loneliness deep within him that made him sick (definitely had nothing to do with the intense blood loss). His stomach churned as his mind silently cried out for you.

Was this true death? Nothing left to hold onto, just the memories and emptiness?

You're like me: you can't live without them.

Geto Suguru fell against the wall of the alley with a bitter scoff. Of course he couldn't. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he spent the last 10 years attach his very life and soul around you. Tried to act like a big boy whenever he was asked what he would do if he was freed from this curse.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Your eyes were blank.

"You finally made it," Geto Suguru snorted as he shifted his eyes over to the looming figure feet from him. "Satoru."

There was something so jarring seeing him now.

Compared to when he arrived a month prior, Gojo Satoru lacked those bandages around his eyes. Those blinding and once comforting pair of sky blues were staring into his very soul blankly. Did he realize that he wasn't coming to say goodbye to you? To free you from a monster like Geto Suguru? That he had actually used you in a last ditch effort to obtain Rika?

He was sure he was aware now.

"You'll be the one to take me down, huh?" He kept a hold on his shoulder as he dragged his eyes away from Gojo Satoru to avoid the unbearable guilt that overcame him. Years of regret and what if's overtaking his mind. "How's my family?"

As long as Nanako and Mimiko were safe, he could die without regret.

"They all got away. Kyoto was your doing too, wasn't it?" Gojo Satoru's voice was as telling as it was 10 years ago. As saddened and angered as the day he had walked away from it all.

"Yeah, unlike you, I'm a kind person. You sent those two here knowing I'd defeat them.... just so you could trigger Okkotsu's growth." He had been thinking about it since the moment Okkotsu's eyes had darkened. The unbearable grief that took over the boy as he eyed his unmoving and bloody friends.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's called trust. People with beliefs like yours wouldn't kill a young sorcerer without reason."

Geto Suguru laughed. "Trust, huh?" He couldn't help the amusement flow through him. After all these years... "I didn't realize you still felt any connection with me."

His counterpart responded with a scoff. "Suguru." It was said with the weight of a thousand lonely days— as if Satoru had thought the same. As if nothing had changed. The man clenched his jaw, ducking his eyes from view as he spoke once again: "Any last words?"

Geto Suguru drew in a heavy breath, things were really getting hazy now— almost feather light. "No matter what, I'll always hate those monkeys." His words were said with the disdain and hatred of the past ten years. Then he thought about where he was 10 years ago. The grief and the isolation that overtook him. He grew quiet. "But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu High. It's just that in this world... I couldn't wear a heartfelt smile."

Satoru stood there in silence. Seeming to take in the words carefully.

"Anything else?" He uttered.

Suguru frowned, ducking his head. There was one thing he had been thinking about for the past two years that grappled him in the most unnerving ways. "Do you think they'll forgive me?" His question was soft and barely there— he was barely there himself anyway.

Satoru scoffed, except it sounded more fond than before. "They were always too forgiving of us. If you're worried about your purgatory being apologizing to them for eternity, then you're fine— it'd be too easy anyway." He joked softly, except his blank expression didn't quite add to the comfort or joke of it all.

I'd spend the rest of time apologizing. Suguru fought the urge to say.

"I figured."

"Suguru," Satoru took attentive steps forward, crouching down to his level. Their eyes met and there was something almost tangiable in that gaze of his. "I love you. I forgive you."

Suguru couldn't help the shock that flushed over his body. As the pain seemed to leave him completely, he used the last bits of his strength to show Satoru a true smile. The only one he could really conjure.

"You could at least curse me at the end."

As Satoru stared at him, as Yuta Okkotsu celebrated with his friends the victory and their safety, and as Suguru took his last breaths, his eyes trailed over Satoru's shoulder.

You stared back with a kind smile. Looking more alive than you had in the past ten years, you wore the clothes you had the day you died, your normal boring uniform. Suguru hated to admit he missed seeing those terrible uniforms.

"Suguru."

[steveseddie]

of movie nights and holding hands

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 1,841

tags: eddie munson lives, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, holding hands, getting together, first kiss

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is asking ‘do you want a blanket?’” by @thefreakandthehair

a/n: i liked this prompt so much that i wrote two fics for it! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

Eddie tries hard to focus on the movie.

It shouldn’t be that hard since Top Gun is supposed to be a good movie. Tonight was the first time since movie nights at the Harrington residence became a thing that an argument didn’t break out amongst the group when they had to choose what to watch. Everyone just agreed. And even if the movie didn’t turn out to be good, Eddie would never waste the opportunity to ogle Tom Cruise for an hour and fifty minutes.

Except he is because, for the last thirty-two minutes, Eddie’s focus has been solely on Steve.

This isn’t the first time they sit next to each other during movie nights. More and more lately, they tend to gravitate toward the other whenever they hang out, and Eddie loves this as much as he hates it.

He loves being close to Steve, being able to whisper to him or touch him, or lean against him. But he hates how it makes him feel. How it makes his palms sweat or goosebumps appear on his skin. He hates it because he can’t let Steve know. Steve might’ve been cool about Eddie being gay and he’s cool with Eddie being touchy and loud and basically too much, but Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be cool with him having a huge hopeless crush on him.

(He probably would, though, because Steve is a good guy, the best guy Eddie knows, and he would let Eddie down easy and make sure nothing changes between them, but Eddie would still feel rejected and they might still end up drifting apart because he can’t handle that.

And Eddie would rather go against another army of Demobats than lose Steve.)

So Eddie tries hard to pay attention to the movie and be normal about the fact that Steve is basically sitting on top of him tonight.

They didn’t start the night like that. At first, it was just Steve, Eddie, and Robin on the couch with plenty of space to sit comfortably. But then Max and Lucas got into an argument- a childish quarrel really- that will probably be forgotten by the end of the night, but still she demanded that they open a spot for her on the couch since she didn’t want to sit with Lucas and the others on the floor anymore. To do that, Steve had to move closer to Eddie, pushing him against the arm of the couch and trapping him between it and his body. Max sits cross-legged next to him which leaves Steve with little to no room for his legs, so one of his thighs overlaps with Eddie’s, same with their arms. And of course, Eddie, who always dresses in multiple layers, decided to only wear a shirt and his battle vest tonight, meaning that his bare arm is touching Steve���s and every time he so much as wiggles trying to get comfortable, a shudder runs through Eddie’s spine.

He thinks Steve is too focused on the movie to notice, but halfway through it, he feels Steve shift closer (and how does he keep getting even closer?) and whisper right into Eddie’s, making the hairs on his neck stand up. “Do you want a blanket, Eds?”

“What?” Eddie asks. It comes out as a squeak. So much for acting normal.

“You keep shivering. Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

The thing is Eddie isn’t cold. Eddie feels warm all over actually, but he can’t tell Steve that the reason why he keeps shuddering or why he’s getting goosebumps is him.

So he says, “Uh, yeah. I could use a blanket.”

He expects Steve to get up so he can get it or to tell Eddie where to find one. Instead, he lifts the blanket that he placed across his lap when the movie started and drapes it across Eddie’s body too, shifting even closer to him.

“Better?” Steve asks with a sweet smile. Bless his clueless heart.

Eddie wants to scream “No, it’s not!” but instead, he just gives him a shaky smile that he hopes looks genuine and nods. Then he shoves his hands under the blanket so he can anxiously play with his rings without Steve noticing, feeling restless and jumpy at having Steve so close. After a moment, he sees Steve do the same out of the corner of his eye. Maybe his hands are cold.

Steve stays still after that, and Eddie can somewhat focus on the movie.

That is until he feels Steve’s pinkie finger brush against his under the blanket.

When it does, Eddie yelps, his leg jerking and kicking Lucas who sits on the floor right in front of him. He feels Steve withdraw his hand like he got burned.

“Dude!” Lucas protests.

“Sorry, Sinclair, uh. Muscle spasm,” Eddie mutters. The other kids give him weird looks but thankfully they go back to the movie.

Whispering so he doesn’t bother the others, Steve says, “Uh, sorry. It was- uh, it was an accident.”

“All good, Steve-o.”

Steve gives him a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Eddie gets the feeling that he’s lying, but then it would mean that his hand touching Eddie’s wasn’t an accident, but a deliberate move.

But why?

Glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Steve looks nervous. He’s biting his bottom lip and there’s a divot between his eyebrows, his cheeks are also tinted bright pink.

So Eddie thinks, fuck it! and moves his hand under the blanket, hooking his pinkie finger with Steve’s.

Steve’s reaction is definitely more subdued than Eddie’s was, but Eddie still hears him gasp. He glances at Eddie, big doe eyes wide and a little hopeful, and Eddie feels like throwing up because holy shit, Steve Harrington was, in fact, deliberately trying to touch his hands and now their pinkies are linked. If it weren’t for the fact that the blanket offers them the cover that they need to do this, Eddie would toss it away. He feels like could burst into flames any minute.

Soon, it’s not just their pinkies touching. Soon, the tip of Steve’s remaining fingers find Eddie’s. He waits for a second, probably to see if Eddie is gonna jump again, but when he doesn’t, Steve tangles their fingers together and gives Eddie’s hand a little squeeze. And Eddie wants to scream, he wants to melt into the couch, he wants to kiss Steve, the kids and Robin be damned.

He doesn’t. He stays still except for his thumb which starts rhythmically stroking over Steve’s knuckles. Eddie hears his breath catch and sees his blush spreading up to his ears. At least he’s not the only one affected by this.

Neither of them is paying attention to the movie at this point, too focused on playing with each other’s hands and biting down on their dopey smiles.

Eddie doesn’t want it to end. He doesn’t want this bubble that they created under this blanket to burst. He’s afraid Steve won’t want to hold Eddie’s hand ever again if it does.

But eventually, the movie does end. The end credits start to roll and the kids spring to their feet, stretching and talking excitedly about the movie. Eddie hopes they don’t ask him anything about it, he couldn’t tell them the names of three characters if he tried.

“Did you like it?” Steve asks quietly.

“The- movie?”

Steve’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “I think we both know you didn’t pay attention to the movie, Eds.”

Eddie feels the blood that rushes to his cheeks at being called out. “Well, I was distracted,” he murmurs, thumb flicking over Steve’s knuckle one more time just to see Steve’s eyes widen a little and his lips part.

“Yeah? By what?” He asks, his voice sounding a little strained to Eddie’s ears.

“A pretty boy holding my hand.”

Steve whines low in his throat. Eddie is glad that the kids are being loud and that they’re focused on each other instead of them.

He continues, “Which I liked. A lot. And uh- I would like to do it again.”

“Me too,” Steve says with a shy smile. God, Eddie wants to kiss him stupid.

“Eddie!”

He jumps when Max calls his name. He and Steve both let go of each other’s hand at the same time, but keep them under the blanket.

“What?”

Max’s eyes roll to the back of her head. “The movie is over? We have to leave now if we want to make it home before curfew.”

“Oh. Sure thing, Mad Max.”

She narrows her eyes at him and Eddie tries to look innocent, not like he spent the last eighty minutes holding another boy’s hand. He’s not so sure that he nails it.

Together, they quickly gather the blankets and the pillows and stuff them into the hallway closet. With Nancy skipping tonight’s movie night and Robin still having no license, it’s up to Eddie to drop everyone off, and unless they leave right now, they’re gonna be late like Max said.

That doesn’t stop Eddie from running back to the house after everyone already piled up inside the van, claiming that he forgot something.

After he knocks on the door, Steve opens it with a confused frown that melts into a smile when he sees Eddie.

“Did you forget something, Munson?”

“I did actually,” Eddie says and for the second time that night, he thinks fuck it! and surges forward, pushing his lips against Steve’s in a quick kiss.

Steve yelps, but Eddie feels the softest press of lips from him before he backs away.

Before Eddie can spiral because oh, god he just kissed Steve, Steve is grabbing him by the lapels of his vest and pulling him toward him. They both stumble back into the house a couple of steps, just enough so they’re hidden from view and Steve can kiss Eddie for longer and a little more forcefully this time.

“Do you want to come over tomorrow?” Steve asks when they pull apart.

“To watch a movie?” He asks. Steve licks his lips and Eddie’s eyes track the movement. “Or not watch a movie?”

Steve smirks. “The second one.”

Eddie nods enthusiastically. “It’s a date,” he says with a grin that Steve mirrors.

They jump when the horn of his van blares, probably waking up a few of Steve’s neighbors.

Eddie makes a face. “Gotta go or the brats are gonna be late.”

“Drive safe,” Steve says, giving the vest a little tug.

“Always do, Stevie,” he says, giving him a two-fingered salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Eds,” Steve says with a dopey smile. Eddie starts walking backwards.

And if he trips on the steps because he’s too busy watching Steve and almost falls on his ass, then at least it’s just Steve who sees it.

And at least, he does it with a sweet smile painted on his puffy pink lips that Eddie just kissed.

[berry-potchy]

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Mine - Part 4

Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2643

Summary: Steve and Reader struggle with whether they can trust one another or not. Both have feelings but is it enough to forgive and start over? Will they be able to have the future they each dream of?

Series Warning: NON/DUB CON, Swearing, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Male Masturbation, Somnophilia, Drugging, Light Bondage, Physical Fighting, Rough Sex, Choking, Female and Male Oral, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasms, Spanking and Stockholm Syndrome

Please READ the Warnings!! These will be touched on throughout the series.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait with this fic. I just have recently been able to type again after my right shoulder surgery.

A/N 2: This chapter isn’t as dark as the other ones.

Moodboard by @fictional-affairs

Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫 🚫

Time seemed to go by slowly as you sat in the bedroom window watching as Steve finished chopping up logs for the fireplace. A faint sound of thunder echoes throughout the room and little goosebumps rise on your skin. You snuggle into your hoodie to chase away a storm that is brewing not just outside but within you as well. Steve grabs a bunch of logs and starts heading to the house. Light rain falls from the sky covering the ground below. You hear the door open and close downstairs followed by him walking around. 

The storm seems to pick up as the wind blows through the trees. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and your hands start to fidget in your lap. Will he be in a good mood today? Your heart is beating faster and faster the closer his footsteps reach the door. Suddenly a key unlocks the door and you hold your breath. Which Steve will greet you today? The door creaks open and you sit as still as you can. 

“Doll? I got a fire going in the fireplace and soup simmering on the stove. Why don’t you come join me?” His words held no authority in it but a simple request. 

You slowly stand up and turn to face him, walking over to where he stood in the doorway. Your eyes glanced over him as he stood before you in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. He gives you his million-dollar smile and pulls you in for a hug. Closing your eyes you let him envelop you in his arms. Your arms wrap around his body and you just give in. A minute later he is taking your hand and walking you down the stairs. 

The warmth from the fire hits you as soon as you descend the stairs. The smell of wood burning and soup filled the air as you took a deep breath in. Gosh if this was only a different time and place you would swear you were home. 

Steve leads you over to the table and pulls your chair out for you. You offer a shy smile and thank him. Steve kisses the top of your head and walks the short distance to the kitchen where he can still see you. 

Your eyes scan the dining room and kitchen. Steve was right, this is how you wanted your future house to look like. It’s as if he took all the ideas from your head and made it a reality. Everything in here was perfect except the man you once loved was a kidnapping, psychopath who had ripped away any trust you had in him. Tears lightly poured from your eyes and before you could do anything Steve was wiping them away. 

You hadn’t noticed that he brought the soup over to the table. Instead, he kneels next to you and continues to wipe them away gently as he takes in your shaking body.

“Doll, what’s wrong? You know you can speak to me about anything, right?” His voice is laced with concern and his deep blue eyes stare at you taking everything in. 

You shake your head as you continue to cry. What if you shared the truth about everything with him? Would he still carry out this twisted plan?

“Steve I can’t, I won’t share my thoughts cause you will just be mad at me. I don’t want to be humiliated again with your punishments. Let’s just eat and forget about it, okay?” 

Steve just stared at you. He knew something was weighing on you but did he want the truth? What if it was about leaving could he keep his composure? He shook his head knowing that this was tearing you apart inside and being this nervous around him wasn’t healthy.

“Please, doll, I promise I won’t be upset with you. Just tell me the truth.” His hand caresses your cheek. “I swear I won’t punish you for being honest with me. All I want in this world is for you to be happy with me.”

Your gaze drops to your lap where your hands are and you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself. You look back up into his blue eyes and decide it is now or never.

“It’s not that easy Steve to tell you this. There is no question that before all of this, I loved you from the moment I met you. Your smile drew me in and I knew I was yours forever. At that time you would flirt but always held back with me like you were searching for something else or maybe someone else. That was until recently and your emotions shifted so quickly that I felt overwhelmed but excited that you finally wanted me. But that’s a lie 'cause you just want to breed me.”

Steve’s breath hitched and he was about to retort before you cut him off.

“That night we made love, I finally felt like my dreams were coming true and that maybe you had loved me all along. But that’s not the case. You said it yourself last night you want me to listen to you and not question anything you say. But how can I not question your behavior? You’re mean, and controlling and you have a device on me to keep my super soldier serum from working. You talked about how I broke your trust, have you ever considered that you shattered my trust with you? The love I once had for you is slowly falling apart and I don’t think I could ever love you under these circumstances.”

Steve listened as you poured your heart out. A part of him wanted to be angry about what you’re saying, while another part of him couldn’t believe that you were once in love with him. Once? Steve shook his head, maybe he was going about this in the wrong way. He never liked bullies and from what she is saying he sounded just like one.

“Steve trust goes both ways. If you want me to earn yours then you must earn mine as well. This dominant thing you’re doing over me won’t work if you want true love and a family one day. I’m pleading with you to stop this madness and let’s work on us before my love goes out like a flame never to be lit again.”

He takes a breath in and out trying to contain himself. Yes, he could see what she was saying about him. Steve did want her to make a family with but it was more than that. Little did she know he loved her the same, from the very beginning. He didn’t think for an instance that Tony would match them together in a million years, that’s why it never went beyond flirting. Steve took her hands in his and decided he needed to be honest.

“Look doll, I have loved you from the day we met. I never thought I would ever have a future with you. Not until Tony said we matched. I was so focused on finding the right woman who could have my children that I got blinded along the way. I’ve never wanted to hurt you nor do I plan on it. I just want a chance at us. For what could be? But it’s hard to trust your intentions after you tried to run away from me. How can I know if what you’re saying is the truth?” His eyes pleaded to hers as he searched her face for answers.

There is no way he loved her for that long. But, what if he is telling the truth? She closed her eyes and thought back to the beginning. Their awkward conversations, the silly jokes, him always complimenting her, the soft touches when no one looked and then it clicked. Her eyes opened wide and a tear fell from them again.

“I’m sorry I tried to run away but I was scared. I didn’t know what you wanted to do with me. You can believe this to be the truth. With how messed up this situation is I don’t want to be away from you. Look if we both try, maybe we can work towards trusting one another again. What do you say?”

Steve gave you that smile you always loved. He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s try again and work towards trusting one another. I promise to not harm you or take you against your will again. But know this, if you are lying to me you will know my wrath, and trust me when I say you haven’t seen the mean side of me yet.”

The last sentence sent chills through your body. By the way, he was looking at you, you swore there was something evil brewing. You kept telling yourself to relax and everything would be okay. If you did decide to run, the time had to be right. For now, your feelings were telling you to try things with Steve. What’s the worst that could happen?

The next morning you woke up to Steve cuddling you close and your legs tangled together. You had gone to bed in just his t-shirt and he slept naked.  The rain had ended overnight and the sun was rising in the sky. You reflected on last night after you spoke your truth. Steve let you sit by the fireplace and read a book instead of locking you in the bedroom. It was a nice moment between the two of you when he sat on the other end of the couch with your legs in his lap. 

Before bed, Steve had told you that tomorrow you both were going to try to start over again. That he would follow your lead on this while he learns to trust you again.

You smile to yourself as you soak up all the cuddles from him and let out a sigh of contempt. Just as you wiggle your butt from excitement you hear a groan behind you.

“Keep that up and I’m going to fill that pretty pussy.”

A giggle escaped your lips. “So what if I want you to?”

Steve’s eyes opened at that comment and he had a grin on his face. “Is that so?” He questioned. 

When you wiggled again Steve quickly rolled you onto your back and parted your legs so he could now lay in between them. Steve pushed his shirt up and pulled it off quickly. He rubbed his cock against your already wet pussy. You couldn’t help but be excited cause you knew how well Steve was between the sheets. Steve’s cock started to get covered in your arousal and the tip of his cock kept nudging your entrance until finally, he slid home. 

Both of you let out a groan once he was fully inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands claw at his back when he starts moving with hard thrusts. Your nails rake down his back with every thrust of his hips. Steve is on his forearms so he can kiss and swallow your moans. With every thrust, you moan and gasp in pleasure. He keeps a steady, hard pace and you end up squealing in pleasure as he hits a certain spot inside you that has you seeing stars. With every thrust, you’re getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm. Steve quickly scoops your legs up with both arms and pushes your legs to your chest deepening his thrusts. 

Your fingernails scrape down his arms as you try to find a way to ground yourself from the pleasure he is giving you. Steve keeps thrusting into you harder and harder while he starts to play with your clit. It brings your orgasm to a peak as you scream his name into the abyss. Your pussy clenches down on his cock as he continues to plow into you. Once you come down from your high Steve pulls out of you and flips you over to your stomach. Pulling you to your knees he sinks back into your velvety walls and fucks you hard and fast as his fingers dig into your hips. 

This is everything Steve has wanted from you. You're being submissive to him whether you realize it or not. Your head is on the bed, fists clenched into the sheets while you moan out incoherent words. He desperately wants to fill you up and breed you. He knows having a baby will link you two forever and the time to start that family is now. 

The faster Steve is pounding into you the closer he is getting to his high but lord he needs you to cum one more time. His left-hand leaves your hip and his fingers move down to circle your clit again. All it takes is a few swipes and you're screaming his name to the heavens above. Your cunt grasps his cock and milks him dry as Steve cums deep inside you. His groans fill the air as he gives a couple more sloppy thrusts into you. Steve looks down on your spent form and leans over your back to kiss your shoulder. 

Once he pulls out of you he goes to the bathroom to clean himself up before he returns to you with a washcloth. Gently he cleans you up and throws the washcloth in the laundry hamper. You’re completely exhausted and feel like you can barely move. If you had your super soldier serum running through your veins instead of suppressed you could have kept up with him, no problem. Now your body could just roll over to your back and look up at him. 

He was smiling down at you looking like a man who just finished a successful mission. You lifted your arms a little to show him you wanted a hug. Steve lay next to you and brought you in for a hug. He held you close to his chest as you snuggled into him. Your cheek rubbed against his chest hair as you enjoyed this feeling of euphoria. 

Maybe things could work out between you both and you could have a happy ending? It just depends on how Steve decides to treat you, like an object or someone to be loved unconditionally. You both promised to start over and this was the best way to show each other how much you loved one another. Hopefully, he will begin to trust you over time and maybe get your super soldier serum flowing through your veins again. I mean it’s not like he wants you like a regular woman, right? There is always going to be that adventurous side of you and you’re going to want a normal life that isn’t just sex. Though you had to admit this is the best sex you’ve had in your life. It’s everything you dreamed of minus the kidnapping part. 

Steve kisses you on the forehead and groans as he stretches. “Why don’t we get in the shower and I will cook breakfast for you? I’m sure you’re hungry. What does my lovely doll want to eat?”

You smile up at him and answer, “Well I do have a craving for pancakes and you sure do make the best ones.”

Chuckling, Steve nods his head. “I can do that for you, doll.”

Steve rolls out of bed and pulls you to your feet. As you walk to the bathroom Steve slaps your butt playfully. “Though first, I think I need another round of you in the shower.”

You squeal in delight as you head to the bathroom. Maybe this could work, you think to yourself as the hot water sprays down on both of you. Today is a brand new day to figure out whatever it is between the two of you. 

Taglist:

@americasass81

@astheskycries

@awesomerextyphoon

@caffiend-queen

@caplanbuckybarnes

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jtargaryen18

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@missvelvetsstuff

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@noellez-best-life23

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@spectre-posts

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@talia-rumlow

@thefallenbibliophilequote

@what-is-your-plan-today

@wolfsmom1

[olderthannetfic]

I thought it would be interesting to see if I could easily determine which ships had the most works updated in 2023.

It turned out to be fairly easy, though a little time consuming. I think these results should be reasonably accurate.

Some points to note:

I did this on my own account, and I have like 2 people muted. So I am capturing the effects of archive-locked works, but my numbers might be off by one or two works due to muting.

Works updated in 2023 is a number that constantly changes as works are deleted or updated again in 2024.

I didn't scrape the entire archive or anything like that, so it's possible I missed a ship that would bump one of these down below 100. I'd take the last few at the bottom there with a grain of salt. But I think we can be reasonably sure the top ones are accurate and that the kinds of numbers that we see at the bottom there (eighteen hundred plus works updated in 2023) are about where the cutoff will be even if we find a ship I missed.

--

As for how I did this, I went to the category tags and the rating tags, filtered for updating in 2023, then excluded ships in the sidebar till I got to 130-150 ships excluded. I also grabbed ships that are big in general from tag search, which you can use to find all relationship canonicals, ordered by frequency.

I combined those lists of ships, cleaned off the works numbers, and generated a list without duplicates. That got me three hundred and something (yes, they were mostly duplicates). I generated the relevant AO3 URLs, opened them in batches with Open Multiple URLs, and copied the works totals into a spreadsheet. Not as tidy as using a script but honestly pretty easy if you know a few spreadsheet formulas to clean up data.

The key here is that if you're only going for pretty good and not accurate beyond a shadow of a doubt, all you need to do is generate a list of likely ships, then check them.

It's possible that there's some much-updated ship that is so evenly spread across these various other tags that it just missed showing up in the sidebar. Hopefully, grabbing more than just the top 100 avoided this problem.

This method also doesn't take into account backdated works. If a whole archive was imported in 2023 but all backdated, there could be some ship that didn't have new works but where AO3 users experience in 2023 was of an influx of content.

I also did this just now, in late March/early April, so some 2023 works have inevitably been deleted or updated again. So the exact work counts don't represent the experience of using AO3 throughout 2023. A fandom active in early 2023 might not have much updating in early 2024, while a fandom active in late 2023 would. This could demote the latter a few places in the rankings since I didn't grab numbers on January 1st.

Even if a person scraped AO3 every day or was monkeying around in the databases, you also have to ask what conceptual answer you're after. Is it works a user could have read at some point during 2023, whether they were deleted by the year's end or not? Is it new-to-AO3 works or only newly-created ones, not including imported archives? Does it matter if the works are fic? If they're in English? What about accidental double-uploads or translations of a single work?

I hope this makes it clear why a definitive ranking is not actually possible.

However, despite these drawbacks, I am confident that the rankings above accurately represent the broad trends on AO3 in 2023. Just don't get too fixated on whether a ship should be at number 73 or number 74.

And, of course, I excluded these from the top 100:

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) - 20,026

Minor or Background Relationship(s) - 16,187

No Romantic Relationship(s) - 8,052

Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) - 7,195

Original Male Character/Original Male Character - 6,283

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added - 5,618

Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) - 3,990

Original Character(s) & Original Character(s) - 3,210

Here's a spreadsheet if you want to see the actual numbers not as a shitty screencap. I left the next few below 100 for context.

[heavens-aesthetic-kitchen]

Why the TF2 Defense Trio deserve more recognition

The people have spoken, I have decided to create an essay disguised as a post on this godforsaken website because it's a free country goddammit! (I would have done it either way lmaooo, I have a lot of shit to say about these maniacs) To start this formal essay glorified very serious shitpost, why should you as a tf2 fan care about these 3 men? They're so "boring" and there's not much going on with them. If ya took a second, let's pause with what was being said. YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND to think such thoughts, we must shake you out of cuckoo land by giving you an in-depth look into these three so that you understand where I'm coming from. Let's start in order:

Demoman:

After being in the fandom since 2019, there's always one character I always thought wasn't given much anything in the fandom at all. Even taking ships out of the equation, there's barely any fics I've that focus on Tavish Finneagan Degroot specifically that I've seen that isn't a compilation fic (I read a lot of x readers, don't judge me). Believe me, I checked ao3. I went through Demoman's tags and I tried very hard to filter a lot of the crossover and relationship tags, yet there's less of Demoman himself, than there's him just existing as a side character of a story. Which is honestly sad, I honestly think Demo is one of the more kinder mercs compared to a lot of the team. This man made friends with the BLU soldier, despite knowing that they were supposed to be killing each other. Sure, it's unclear whether or not Demo did actually go through with it and it's just a ruse, because the voicelines in WAR! don't have a set timeline. But I do think that Demo would have tried to keep his friendship with BLU soldier. He's very chill. I've never actually seen him get violent against his friends and family, despite being a drunkard. I honestly think he's one of the sweetest people in TF2, he takes good care of his mom and haunted sword lmaoooo. Jokes aside, he seems like a genuinely good man and I barely see anything that suggests he's sadistic. He's a chaotic and loud, but not bad. Not bad at all. The fact he can still do his job well, even after drinking so much that his body created a whole distillery, is even more impressive. He is damn good at what he does and works very hard. He's had multiple jobs, even as wee little lad. Despite what people think of him, the fact he's getting paid 5 million dollars a year, is proof he knows what he's doing. He loves his job and couldn't bear the thought of not working. I feel like his backstory isn't talked about enough in the fandom either. When you think about it, it's kinda fucked up that he was put in an orphanage by his biological parents until he was in the right age to be blowing people up. Not only that, his eye socket was haunted by the Bombinomicon so that every halloween a giant eye would manifest, attacking him and his friends. Even Medic couldn't help him and instead resorting to scooping the part of Demo's brain where he remembered so he would stop asking. He most likely has a lot of stories for you, I see him as the type that has a lot to say. His past is the most fleshed out and complete out of all the mercs, which I really appreciate, you can do a lot more with him. Also another thing, during Unhappy Returns, he took the time to reassure Soldier that he wouldn't think he's a civilian. He didn't brush Soldier's worries aside and instead comforted him. I wish I had a lot more to say about Demo because I am baffled that he isn't being gushed about as a potential partner. He has the excitement and like zero baggage. A thing I also wanna point out is that he seems to be insecure of the fact he's a black scottish man with only one eye during Meet The Demoman. I may be reading into things a bit too much, but it makes me wanna be like "NOOOO don't talk about yourself like that, bro. You're so cute UGHHH" Also also he's handsome. Sure looks can be subjective, but I still think Demo has a face I would kiss hehe. He looks great with his beard and his cheeky ass smile. GOD I could gush about him all day, but I have to move on rip.

Heavy:

Honestly, I'm having a hard time just finding the words to describe this amazing man without giving him the respect he deserves. But I'll sure try. Heavy has had a difficult life and I've always admired how strong he was. Not just of his muscles, but he endured one of the toughest situations and still kept moving forward with his life even though it was traumatizing. You see why I'm even having a hard time talking about him? I can't really get down into the weeds, without getting serious for a min. I feel like the fandom doesn't give him much credit for being able to deal with so much. He's the rock for his family after his father disappeared (atp I think he's dead, which is the cherry on top this depressing sundae) and I wouldn't doubt that he would be the same for his team. He's a man of few words, but that makes him all the more intriguing. Just because this man has a lot of brawn does not mean he's dumb at all. Despite how he acts in the battlefield, Heavy is observant and clever. Although, it's implied that Spy being Scout's dad is an open secret between the mercs and Miss Pauling, the fact he figured it out without saying it directly must mean he has a lot more going on. He's also educated, getting a phD in Russian Literature. It's not a STEM program, but he actually got a doctorate and went to college, that's a lot more than half of what the mercs did lmaooo. Also he has a bit of a softie side, not just for his mom and sisters, but also other creatures as well. I respect him so much for avoiding violence against those dogs during the Showdown comic. Not only shows what an absolute sweetheart he is, but also how much he's able to think quickly on his feet. Heavy is very direct and blunt, I don't see him as the type to lie about his feelings. I appreciate that he doesn't feel the need to sugarcoat anything, he'll get the job done and he ain't playing. There's no fluff, he knows what he wants and that's to rev up Sasha and ram through sons of bitches without any worries.

I feel like I wanna point out, his story seems the most unexplored in the fandom, even though it has a lot of potential for ANGST factor. I already broke down how sad it is, but I just feel like it isn't said enough. Can I just say how cuddly he looks?! GAH, I feel like he would give the warmest hugs! The way he smiled in Unhappy Returns when he finds out his family doesn't need to live in fear anymore, just melts my heart! He's so protective over his family and friends! I wish I had a lot more to say about this guy because I just can't stop finding more things about him that go unappreciated. I had to literally edit this part so many times before moving on, he just has those little details you don't notice until you take a second and have that OH MY GOD moment

Engineer:

I was getting so hyped, when it was finally our resident southern nerd's time to shine. GOD I have so much to say about this man. It's been over 5 fucking years and I have never stopped simping for this man since 2019, I think I'm gonna go insane from how much I've been repressing, I go feral when he's around. Anyways enough stalling. I don't ever think a fictional character has ever made me swoon quite like Engineer, I really mean that. I have ask and pleaded to whatever god was listening to give me a man like Engie. To me, he is everything I ever wanted and more.

First, I wanna talk about what makes him attractive to me. His accent. His southern charm, UGH he's killing me with that smooth voice and chivalry! I swear this man could make me faint just from existing. The way he smiles is so warm, his insults are so corny I love them. That five o clock shadow GAHH! I'm getting butterflies all over again. I swear I love all three of the defense bois, but Dell Conagher has my heart wrapped around his gunslinger metal finger. All those personal reasons aside, I've always thought Dell Conagher was a very interesting character in the world of TF2. He might not have much screen time or goofy shenanigans like the other mercs, but that doesn't mean you can ignore him oh no no no. This man is important within the whole story of Mann Co and TF industries, his grandfather being the catalyst of the game's events and the comics going forward. The Conaghers are the SOLE REASON why Team Fortress 2's story exists. I find it strange that the fandom hasn't done much with this fact because you can do a lot with this idea. Engineer knows a lot of shit and would be the biggest threat to Helen, if not for the fact that his family has been helping her for years.

Like his backstory, he's not seen much in the battlefield, but he has a lot more going on behind the scenes. Imagine the possibilities. He is damn intelligent and he knows it. While Dell is very sweet and has a southern charm, this is a facade to hide his God complex and sadistic tendencies. If you think this man is just your boring gentle engineer, you've got a big storm coming. It's heavily implied that he sawed off his own arm so that he could use the gunslinger. This man works on projects with Medic and doesn't question the moral implications of putting a human brain in a pumpkin. Hell, he threatened his own employer, even if he was an old man (Granted, Blutarch dug up his grandpa's grave, so he probably should have gotten something a lot worse than just Dell telling him to fuck off). Engineer is more than the texan egghead sweetie pie, he is a mercenary for a reason and I would argue that he might be as insane, if not more than, the rest of the team. No sane man would willingly work with a bunch of war criminals if he wasn't also crazy. That's the thing I really like about him. I love playing as him in the game because it represents his character very well. He technically serves a supportive role to the team with his buildings, but he is a killer with a lot of tools in his disposal, With the right amount of training, he can absolutely dominate in the battlefield.

I feel like he's one of the people that underestimate and assume that he's an easy target, but he's a lot more than that. He has a lot of layers that makes me want to learn more about him and what he has to offer.

In Conclusion:

These guys are cool. Lmaooo okay I won't just end it there. I genuinely believe that they're not getting the recognition that they deserve, they've got a lot more going for them if you pay attention. Sure they might not always be the loudest or most prominant character in the story, but what they lack in quantity, they make up for in quality TEN FOLD. They don't have to be your favourite, but you should at least give them a chance. You never know, they may surprise you.

Okay so thats enough of that, I couldn't find a divider above this message, so you're getting this grainy ass gif. Honestly, I put way too much effort on this shitpost lmaooo, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out in a more concise manner. If you want to add more stuff about these three that I didn't mention, feel free to do so. Anyways thanks for reading

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  steddieas_shegoes! @steddieas-shegoes has 382 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 355 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@starryeyedjanai recommends the following works by @steddieas-shegoes:

call me sunshine, send me to space

we'd shake the frame of your car

this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation

driver roll up the partition please

"Mickala is a PILLAR in this fandom. She's doing microfics, she's doing multiple month-long challenges at the same time, she's writing a big bang that I am frothing at the mouth over reading soon. She's doing it ALL!!!! She's written an absurd amount of words in such a short amount of time and I am just in awe of her 💕💕💕" -- @starryeyedjanai

Below the cut, @steddieas-shegoes answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Because my love for Steve Harrington could no longer be contained, and neither could Eddie’s. Because have you seen those two? Look at them. Keep looking at them. They’re so!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

This list is longer than any of us have the time to read, but I will say that enemies to lovers or exes to lovers has been hitting the spot hard lately. I’m also a sucker for a good modern au, like texting the wrong number or rockstar Eddie and otherwise famous Steve.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

At the heart of everything I write, they’re stupid in love. Whether they know it or not, whether they say it or not, they are. I think my favorite tag to use is idiots to lovers or idiots in love because it’s true. They’re just dumb for each other and it’s so fun to write from every angle.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Okay my absolute all time favorite fic of any fandom I have ever read anything in is Tuesday's Gone With the Wind - Chapter 1 - thisapplepielife - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]. It changed me from the inside out. I think about this fic every single day, sometimes multiple times a day.  But I do also have to say my very, very close second would be start by pulling him out of the fire by pricklywhicket. There is no better Wayne fic, there could never be a better Wayne fic. If you love Wayne, and you love Eddie, and you love Steve, and you love Steddie, this is the fic to read.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I tend to avoid writing heavy angst of any kind, mostly because I tend to also avoid reading it unless it has a happy ending. But I have two things currently in my notes app that are very angsty, one of them would possibly have a more open/slightly unhappy ending, and I might be brave and do it. It’s the one area that I know I haven’t delved into.

What is your writing process like?

There’s a process? You guys are following a process? Oh shit, I didn’t know. But seriously, the process looks a lot like: *has idea *types what should be headcanon of said idea *headcanon becomes 2500 words of actual story *posts I really just go with the flow. I don’t edit 90% of the time, I don’t have a beta reader (except for my bang fic), I rarely even go in with a full-fledged plan. Whatever happens, happens.

Do you have any writing quirks?

If I write Steve with a migraine in something, it usually means I was suffering from a migraine at the time. I almost always give him similar symptoms to mine, though I usually dramatize them a little for the hurt/comfort of it all. They say write what you know and boy do I know migraines.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I have only written a handful of chaptered fics, and I tried to follow as much of a schedule as I could, but I don’t. I get too excited and I end up just posting as soon as something is finished.

Which fic are you most proud of?

This is a hard one. I am proud that I ever even posted the first thing I did. This was the first fandom I ever published anything in, and I was pretty nervous about sharing something I wrote in a rush on my notes app. But I think I’m most proud of call me sunshine, send me to space. It challenged me to take this one on, and while I know I probably wouldn’t write it the same if I were to write it now, I know that it will always be there as proof of how far you can come if you keep doing the thing.

How did you get the idea for call me sunshine, send me to space?

Uh…personal experience? I was getting a small tattoo and had my usual reaction and then went home and said to myself “Steve would end up in a situation about this” and then I wrote the situation. Which is actually how so much of my works start.

When writing call me sunshine, send me to space, what was something you didn’t expect?

The amount of love it’s gotten! It was still kind of my early days of posting on AO3 and I had only just started really interacting on tumblr, so it shocked me how quickly people started commenting and asking to be on the tag list. That fic is what “put me on the map” I guess, and is definitely responsible for all of the friendships I’ve made in the last year.

What inspired this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation?

A silly little headcanon I posted that got way out of hand in my thoughts and then on paper. We tend to lean more towards the single dad Steve thing, especially myself, but then I completely ran with the single dad Eddie thing, and a whole fic came out of it.

What was your favorite part to write from this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation?

This fic was my worst enemy for months. I was so busy in real life that I felt like I wasn’t able to give it the attention it deserved. I had a few favorite parts, but I think the first time Mia calls Steve ‘Mama’ is up there for sure. It kinda sets the tone for the whole fic that Steve is meant to be in their lives and this baby knows it before the rest of them.

How do/did you feel writing we'd shake the frame of your car?

Honestly, I was just trying to stick to as much of the prompts as possible. Since it was a gift for Sandy, I wanted to make sure it was the best gift I could give!

What was the most difficult part of writing driver roll up the partition please?

Keeping it on the shorter side! If it were up to me, ficlets like that would be 20k minimum, but because it was for an event and I tend to take on more than I can actually handle, it had to stay short.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I have a lot of lines that I really love that I am always in awe that I managed to write. But I think I am most excited about the scene in my upcoming bang fic, the scene that came to me before anything else for this fic and inspired the whole thing.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My bang fic bear hugs starts posting on September 27th. If you like hockey, single dad steve, and friends to lovers, this is THE fic for you. I also co-mod for steddie microfic, which is a monthly exact word count challenge with a new prompt and word count every month; I run Steddie Song Fics, a monthly writing challenge that changes every month with new songs, word count limits, genres, and more; I run Steddie Holiday Drabbles, which is a daily drabble event that takes place in December, with multiple pop-up events throughout the year; and if this posts in time, I am running Steddie Smutty September, an 18+ only event that will have weekly writing and art prompts for the month of September.    

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to whoever nominated me, and thank you to everyone who supports me and other authors by liking, commenting, reblogging, and recommending fics!

Thank you to our author, @steddieas-shegoes, and our nominator, @starryeyedjanai! See more of steddieas_shegoes's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[celestie0]

hello, my lil smut for ch 10 enthusiasts!

i know most of you are here for porn without plot, with little to no care about the plot, but let me get something very straight to you: ellie has mentioned before that kickoff is a slow-burn, it’s in tags too (cue: go check them out).

you might be wondering what a slow burn is (i fully believe you have slow comprehension skills, it’s fine, i myself am dyslexic), but for your ease here’s a number of definitions of slow burn from google:

A slow burn is when the romantic attraction between characters builds slowly over the course of a novel or series.

— bookriot.com

If something is a slow burn, or if it happens on a slow burn, it develops slowly.

— collinsdictionary.com

The slow-burn genre in movies is typically characterized by deliberate pacing, restrained storytelling, and a gradual buildup of tension and suspense.

— collider.com

Slow burn love is a love that goes beyond the initial spark of attraction — it is, as the name suggests, a kind of love that requires time and attention, but that can also last.

— slice.ca

next time, i would suggest you all should use google to search for terms you do not understand the meaning of, or better yet when you do understand something (which i am sure you do), you must always consider it and the feelings of the writer before you send insensitive asks to them.

moving on, you all are in fact very horny and need to get laid instead of asking ellie or anyone to write you smut. ellie had specified multiple time that kickoff chapter 10 will not have any amount of smut in it. if you want to read smut jjk fandom is very horny there are at least 2000 smuts of gojo satoru on tumblr and ao3 alone, you should read those. very easy to find them.

anyways, here are the reasons why smut in chapter 10 of kickoff is bad idea:

reader is an introvert, she’s not weak, not insecure, she is an introvert. i am not saying introverts don’t hook up because they do so. but reader is not the kind to hook up the first chance she gets.

reader and gojo are not just two people who are lusting after one another, their feelings are both emotionally and sexually very strong for each other and they respect one another a little too much to jump in to fucking each other and ruining their relationship before it even begins. why will it be ruined? because they both have not bonded as much as you all would like to pretend they have.

it is one thing to have sex with a stranger or a friend you find attractive and not let it interfere with your relationship with a person than doing the same with someone you are interested in. when you like someone, there are emotions involved. there is a lot more that satoru and reader need to sort out before they should consider sex.

they want a long lasting relationship with each other, rushing into sex will hinder that, because when you rush into things you do not let them develop with the ease and smoothness that they would have had had unnecessary stress not influenced the they. for a relationship to be successful, the foundation needs to be strong. you do not build a foundation by fucking each other’s brains out but rather by doing other mature stuff like bonding through conversations and emotional and significant gestures.

remember when reader walked out of that washroom leaving satoru with blue balls? remember when satoru refused to touch her when reader when asked him to? yes, you are invalidating their entire personalities by asking them to fuck each other already.

they each have a personality, and neither falls in the bracket of fucking the person they want to spend their lives with without letting the relationship marinate enough to last.

they began fresh in chapter 9, where reader made it very clear that satoru needs to reassure her of his feelings. you are not reading the same fic that most readers are if you think they have been together for a long time now, because trust me the last 4 chapters have been anything but smooth sailing between them. if that is your definition of “been together for a long time”, maybe reconsider the relationships you have in your present lives because it requires revaluation.

when they established starting afresh, it meant they will rebuild their bond, which means that they will need to go back to square one and start to focus on one another in order to strengthen their bond and state their feelings in a more tangible manner.

when ellie wrote this fic, she created an outline of the plot, the events that would take place and their sequence; you expressing your disappointment will do nothing but demotivate her and it will definitely not make her write that smut for you.

this is ellie’s fic, and the plot in her fic does not allow her to write smut in chapter 10. done.

a bonus:

if you’re asking reader to make gojo jealous maybe consider the fact that they have indeed established semi-exclusivity, and in order to build the foundation of a relationship you need to act petty like pulling cheap stunts to make the other person jealous.

i need you to realise that kickoff is a rather realistic, non-toxic piece of fiction where two people who are into each other are not going to fuck before reassuring the other of their feelings.

wait patiently, and the good will come to you. if you can’t do so and would prefer to send ellie hate, send in passive aggressive messages to make her characters have sex, or give her backhanded compliments disguising your demand for the couple to fuck, you should:

use your creativity, your knowledge of english and write a smutty fic.

go ahead and read one of thousands of other gojo smut.

stay quiet and keep your opinion to yourself, kickoff is free for you. ellie is not your provider, she is sharing the fic with you. if you want her to do something that desperately, negotiate a commission.

anyways, kickoff has healed me.

some of you loudmouthed ones may not care about plot, just the smut, but most of us are here for the plot. we like the plot, we like knowing what’s going on in the lives of the characters. we enjoy their lives, we grieve their loses. let the experience be fun for us and ellie, and leave if you cannot behave in a civil manner.

the only things that’s acceptable of you readers are constructive criticism and love. if you don’t have either of it to give, kindly quieten yourself and close the tab. leaving the fic would be easier than being frustrated over it.

apologies for the mistakes, the ask was written and sent in absolute rage over a small fraction of you very insensitive people.

💌🫶🏼

flowie, i could cry. seriously idk how you manage to know my own story more than i do LOOOL but i swear every time that you reflect so deeply on kickoff, it has me in awe and in tears because i just feel so seen by you. and thank you SO much for standing up n making these points, because they are points that i've really wanted to make but was just too scared to, and i feel so safe to see that you've written this out for me in my defense 😭😭😭

those definitions of slow burn had me tearing up so bad idk why sdfkjdshfklj i think because they take slow burn as more than just "oh two characters wait long time to fuck" and make it into something more, and honestly even i needed to have that put into perspective for me! thank you so much :'')

your understanding for my characters 😭😭 i just i canttskfksjdf. i totally agree 100% w all your points, and they completely align w the creative direction i want to take w my story. i KNOW that sex can be spontaneous, and doesn't always need to be goody goody and within the confines of a relationship. i have enjoyed so many stories where sex is wild n toxic n crazy, because i just think it fits the VIBE of that specific story.

but i've tried to show time n time again w kickoff characters specifically that they aren't as inclined to act on their libidos, at least not when they truly care about someone else AND when they're trying to look out for themselves (like the examples you brought up, w reader putting her foot down during the bathroom sex scene. or when gojo refused to touch reader in the hotel room bc he knew that she would regret it in the morning)

i knowww that readers have different perspectives on these scenes, and i LOVE that. there's absolutely no right or wrong way to interpret a scene, because stories are inherently subjective and are meant to be enjoyed that way. i have interpreted scenes in my own favorite stories very differently from maybe what the author had in mind, or what other readers had in mind. but what i find really upsetting about people expecting me to include smut prematurely is that it makes me feel like you're not really reading my story for what is is, and rather you want me to make it into something that YOU want, disregarding all of my other attempts to really try n show my readers who these characters are. if reader was spontaneous or if gojo was careless, and these traits were shown in the story, then maybe i could understand certain expectations, but i've tried to put thought into showing their personalities, and for certain readers to entirely gloss over it and move straight to "SEXSEXSEX" is really disheartening, n yes demotivating for me as well.

there's a difference between "oh my god it would've been so hot if they fucked in that bathroom, but i guess it makes sense why they didn't...can't wait for them to slut each other out eventually tho!!" and sending me a direct ask that just says "i am so disappointed you're not gonna make them fuck in the next chapter, even though you've spent the past two months working on it and it's 80 pgs long and you haven't even released it yet but i'm still going to be passive aggressive n find fault w it because! me want sex!! me want sex!!"

i think deeply about my stories because they are personal to me. it's like journaling essentially LOL. i've mentioned before that kickoff is an ode to a painful situationship i had my first year of college, and i've also mentioned that reader is based off of a very close friend of mine who i love very dearly n i feel so bad that she doesn't believe in herself at times, and i wanted to show her how much i'm rooting for her through my story. i figured, well if i'm going to write a story, might as well share it w others and i'm a horny bitch so of fucking course there's gonna be smut.

like it's a win win situation for everyone i think?? i get to write what i want, i get to share what i want, n i get to entertain my lovely lil readers, n we all get to interact w eachother n make cute lil headcanons n talk about our days, n then we move on w our lives until next time?? why can't it just be like this, lol. i think if some people just really toned down their entitlement, then the writing community as a whole would thrive.

ANWYASY sorry flowie i didn't really direclty respond to your words, kinda went on a rant here, but tbh i think you said everything i wanted to say :'') so thanks bb <33 LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[erisweekofficial]

Today we're highlighting @acourtofladydeath, creator and mastermind behind @polyacotarweek. She's written so many amazing pieces about Eris across multiple ships and genres. And if you find yourself wanting to explore other characters, she's got you covered with her masterlist of 30+ works on AO3.

🧡 Looking for something deeply emotional and poignant? Please start with LD's favorite fic, All Things End (Azris). 🎧 It even has a playlist. 🎧

🔥 If you're looking for a good horny time, try Welcome to the Family, which features Elain x Eris or Rules are Rules (Azris). You're in for a good time with those two. Especially if you like Beron.

Read on to learn more about LD's writing process + some advice for writing about Eris...

What themes do you like to explore in your work with Eris?

I really enjoy exploring the juxtaposition and depth of Eris. He needs to act a certain way to protect the people he loves and keep his place within the Autumn Court under his father. But does he want to act that way? How soft is he, or is he actually as mean as he seems? I like when he's a bit of both. I think he's a very protective person, and I enjoy exploring the different ways that manifests with different people. I also think he's experienced a lot of trauma in his life, and I'd be remiss if I didn't say I enjoy exploring that and how it influences both his external and internal persona.

What other characters do you enjoy writing about alongside Eris?

Three favorites, three different relationships: My favorite person to ship Eris with is Azriel, and I love writing different iterations of their relationship. Some are softer, others are spicier, and then there's the really sad takes. There's so much give and take with these two and it's so fascinating to play around with. I love writing Eris and Nesta as best friends. Their wit is so well matched, as is their lived experiences with their siblings and parents. They have so much overlap, and you can write them funny or feeling and any combination in betwell. Plus, who says friends can't fuck? Not me. The third person is Lucien. I really enjoy exploring their familial relationships. Were they close as kids? If they hate each other, have they always? How does this relate to their relationships with their parents and other brothers? There's so many different ways to skin this cat and I want to write them all.

What's your favorite piece you've created featuring Eris and why?

I hemmed and hawed over this question forever, but I think the fic that fits best is "All Things End." This fic is pure bittersweet angsty sadness. What if Beron's torture gave Eris incurable dementia? How would his mate, Azriel, their children, and Lucien handle the situation? CW for dementia, death, and grief. I created two playlists for this fic: one that's a direct accompaniment and another that's an extended cut. The direct playlist is timed to the reading length of the fic, and specific songs play during specific scenes to enhance the reader experience (AKA bring more tissues).

Do you have any advice for other creators wanting to make eris content?

Eris is a character that we don't know much about compared to others in the series. When I go to write him I start with what we do know: his father's abuse, he's a general, he protected Lucien, we don't have the whole story about the Mor situation. He's cunning, so you know that what you see isn't all there is. I like to build backward. What from canon do I want to focus on? How does canon tie into whatever type of fic I'm writing? Why does he act the way he acts, and how does that tie into his canon history and the plot/theme/characterization of my fic? This helps build up the layers that are so integral to who I think Eris is as a character. Complex, captivating, keeps you on your toes. And don't forget his gold jewelry.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Jump Then Fall - Chapter 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”

Word Count: 5000

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Well, we've finally reached the end! I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. I really do love these 2 and would welcome any asks about them! When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30 but in this part, Javier is 36 and Vanessa is 25.

**Shoutout to @vanemando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.

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Jump Then Fall Masterlist

General Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

<<Chapter 3<<

I don't see him until lunch the next day as he and Chucho had run into town for a few things. They both come in with some grocery bags and set them on the counter.

"They were out of broccoli so I got green beans. Will that work?" Chucho asks as he hands me a bag of fresh cut green beans.

I take them with a smirk. "Why do I get the feeling they weren't out and you just didn't want to eat the broccoli?"

"She's got you there, pops." Javier chuckles as Chucho punches his arm.

"Pendejo."

"Alright, alright. Get cleaned up and I'll make you both some lunch. Extra broccoli for you, old man."

Chucho hides a smile, grumbling as he heads upstairs to his bathroom. Javier stays in the kitchen with me, helping to unload the bags.

"New relaxation thing?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

"What?"

I gesture towards his mouth. "The chewing gum."

"Oh. Nope. Giving up the other one. I'm trying the Nicorette thing."

I close the refrigerator door and look at him. "Really?"

He shrugs. "It's a nasty habit, or so I'm told."

I turn away from him quickly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up at face at his use of my words.

"Well that person must be very smart to say that."

"I think so."

-------

I don't find the time to tell him the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Despite having a lot of chances to. Javier always finds his way to me around the house, chatting and asking me questions. I try to ask him some too, but his eyes grow dark and distant and he shuts in on himself, no doubt recalling the horrors of his time pursuing Escobar. I stop asking.

"Vanessa! We have to go or we'll be late to Danny's wedding!" Chucho yells up the stairs at me, just as I'm putting on my mascara.

"I'll be right down!" I take one last look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress. It was bold, for me anyway. Spaghetti straps and a form fitting dress that stops just above my knee, a lacy slip over top of it all that's long sleeved. It's a dark green color, always one of my favorites. I'm not sure it's entirely wedding appropriate, but it's the only thing that I liked that fit me decent enough. My hair is down and loosely curled and I turn my head back and forth to make sure the bounce had stayed.

I grab my clutch and head downstairs. Chucho stands at the foot of the stairs, smiling at me.

"You look beautiful, Vanessa."

"You're just saying that so I won't make broccoli next week."

He chuckles and gives me a hug. "You caught me. Oh, when's Alex back?"

"Next week."

"Pops, we have to get going or we'll..." Javier comes walking back inside the front door, red flannel shirt tucked into tight jeans that hug his body in all the right ways. He stares at me, his eyes moving up and down my body until Chucho elbows him in the stomach.

"Fuck! You uh..you look uh nice, Vanessa."

"Nice?" Chucho says, chuckling in disbelief. "I thought you knew how to talk to women." He heads out the door, leaving Javier and I standing in the entry.

"You look really..handsome." I manage to choke out at Javier. "Now come on. Your dad will kill us if we're late."

I move to hop in the truck and then realize the stick shift will need to be right between my legs if I wanted to ride in the front.

"I'll get in the back," Javier speaks into my ear.

"No you won't. The bed is dirty and I will not have my son walking into church covered in-"

Javier puts his hands up. "Ok, ok. We'll figure it out."

I get in, taking Javier's offered hand to help me up into the cab. I slide across the bench, looking down at the gear shift as Javier slides in next to me. I try to move my legs but there's nowhere for them to move to.

"Tuck them next to my leg." I look up at Javier, the closest I've been to him since that night.

"Are you s-sure?"

"Yeah. I won't bite." I swear he mumbles "Unless you want me to" under his breath but maybe I'm projecting.

We make it to the church on time. Well, early actually as Chucho wanted "a good seat." We get out of the truck and to my surprise, Javier offers me his arm again. I take it, using him to help me out of the cab, smoothing down my dress when I finally plant my feet on the ground. But he doesn't let go, doesn't drop my arm, letting me choose if I wanted to hold onto him or not. I link my arm further in his, noting the small smile he's fighting to contain on his face.

I am very glad I chose to hold onto him. Not just because his touch is electrifying my body, but because the ground in the dirt parking lot is very uneven, the last rainstorm having put in several large potholes and what feels like millions of smaller ones. Javier saved me from falling right in the mud more than a few times. When we finally make it to the pavement, he still doesn't drop my arm, looking down at me with raised eyebrows, silently asking me what I'd like to do.

"Oh no. I'm attached now. If you let me go, I'll fall on my butt I know it."

He chuckles and covers my hand with his large one, engulfing mine. "I got you, baby."

We say our hello's to everyone as we enter and I feel Javier tense next to me at the amount of attention he's starting to receive. Many people wanting to shake his hand and tell them how proud they are of him, that he's a hero. He smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes, and thanks them, shaking their hands with his free one. This happens several times on our way to the pew Chucho wanted and after the third time, I place my free hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. I can feel him relax into me slightly as the man in front of us thanks him yet again. But as the next person approaches, I cut them off.

"Juan, it's so nice to see you, but we need to sit. These shoes weren't made for real feet," I chuckle and nod my head towards my feet. "I swear if Javier weren't escorting me I'd be taking these things off or fallen on my rear end by now."

"Oh! Yeah go sit. See you later, Javs!"

We finally make it to our row and Javier gestures for me to go ahead. I make my way in, sitting down as Javier slides in next to me.

"Hey, thanks." He speaks quietly so only I can hear him.

"Yeah of course. Anytime."

Shortly after, the ceremony starts and Javier places his arm across the pew behind me and I will myself to not blush and just pretend like I'm focusing on the sermon, the priest now saying something about love and devotion in marriage or..something. I have no clue as I feel Javier stretch a little and slide a little closer to me in the pew, our hips almost touching.

The reception was beautiful, music starting up a bit later while everyone was eating. We finish eating and Javier turns to me, mischief in his eyes.

"Dance with me?" His hand is outstretched towards me and I take it without hesitation.

"Do you know how?" I ask as he pulls me to my feet.

"Do you?"

"Fair question."

He escorts me onto the dance floor, placing his hand confidently on my hip, the other taking my hand. The music starts and he spins us around, our feet moving together to the beat. His eyes are on me and mine on his, the air between us igniting with something that we felt 6 years ago.

That realization jolts me back to the present and I move my head next to his, looking over his shoulder. I really need to tell him. I catch sight of a blonde woman, about Javier's age, giving me a really nasty look. But then the songs ends and Javier pulls back.

"Thirsty?"

"Yeah."

We head back to the table and sit, several more people coming up to shake Javier's hand and tell him how proud they were, that he's a hero, all of it. I can see that far away look in his eyes, like he's here but not here. His eyes lock on something across the room and he leans towards Chucho and me.

"I'll be right back."

I watch him walk across the room towards the blonde woman who had given me such a nasty look earlier.

"Who is that?" I lean over to Chucho, nodding towards them. He glances up before looking back down at his plate of food.

"Lorraine. His ex."

"Oh. They serious?"

He takes a bite of his food and chews. "They were. But that was maybe 10 years ago?"

"Hhm.. how serious?"

"Well, they were going to get married."

"Oh."

Chucho looks at me and leans in. "He left her though. The day of."

"The day of...the wedding??"

"Not one of his best moments. But he was young and scared. And stupid."

I look over at them, a man now walking up to them and putting his arm around Lorraine.

"Well she seems to have done alright."

"Yeah. Married some banker or real estate guy or something. Seems happy. Couple of kids."

"Should you have told me this?"

Chucho gestures around at the room. "Everyone here was there that day. They all know. It's not a secret."

I nod, turning to look back at them when I see Javier turn, his hand doing that thing where it opens and closes, his bottom lip worrying slightly into his teeth. He stops a few steps away from Lorraine and looks back, watching as she picks up her kids and animatedly talks to them. When he turns back around, his face is full of regret and want, but I don't know if it's about her or the kids, his almost family. He walks through the room and out the back door.

"I'll be right back."

I get up and cross the room, heading out the door Javier did. I look around and see him sitting on a bench under a tree several feet out from the reception room. He pulls out some gum from his pocket and stuffs it in his mouth, his jaw chewing furiously. I walk up to him and he looks up at me, his eyes sad.

"Can I sit?" I ask, gesturing to the space next to him on the bench. He nods at the space, leaning back to put his arm across the back of the bench behind me.

"Thank you," I say to him after several moments.

He looks at me. "For what?"

"For...everything. I know you must have had to do some things you aren't proud of in order to catch a very bad man. I can't imagine how that must weigh on you, make you feel like you don't deserve praise. But you worked so hard and they took that ending away from you which was, excuse my language, very fucked up of them and you didn't deserve that no matter what you did, and I just....thank you."

His eyes bore into mine, shifting emotions behind them. Anger, regret, fear, disappointment in himself, disbelief, but then something else. Something softer as he focuses on me. His hand comes up to cup my face and I lean into it, loving the feel of his calloused hands on my skin. He leans in towards me, his eyes shifting down to my lips, his breath fanning out over my face.

"Wait. I have to tell you something, Javier."

"Can you tell me after we make out?"

Can I? No. No, Vanessa.

"I really think I need to tell you first."

He pulls back and it looks like it costs him a ton of effort, just like it did me to tell him to stop. He puts his hand on his lap and watches me, waiting for me to continue.

"Do you remember when I told you that Alex's dad had important things to do? And you thought he was giving me a line?"

He nods. "Yeah..."

"What if...what if that were you?"

He furrows his eyebrows together, confused. "If what were me?"

"If you had gone off to Colombia or were going off and you found out you'd gotten some girl pregnant?"

"I would have come home or not gone."

"Yeah, but wouldn't you resent them just a little for robbing you of this opportunity?"

He scoffs. "They would've saved me a lot of shit."

"You know that now. But then?"

He thinks for a moment. "I don't know. I can't say I wouldn't have been disappointed."

"Don't you think your kid would pick up on that?"

"I...I don't know. I didn't consider....Vanessa?"

I swallow down the tears that are fighting to escape my body. "Yeah?"

"How old is Alex?"

I take a deep breath and look him in the eyes. "6."

It takes him a few moments, probably doing the math in his head. But then his eyes widen and he pulls his arm from around me, scooting back a little.

"6?"

"Yeah."

He shifts on the bench. "Is he...who's his dad?"

I can't help the one tear that falls from my eyes. "Y-you are."

He looks at me before abruptly standing, pacing back and forth, his hand on his hip and the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm his dad? Me? Are you sure?"

"I've only ever been with you."

He scoffs. "It's been 6 years, Vanessa. You haven't fucked anyone in 6 years?" He stops to look at me and sees the truth in my face.

"I've gone on some dates, but nothing ever happened."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I can only tell you the truth, I can't make you believe it."

He laughs angrily, finally stopping in front of me, glaring down at me.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"I-"

"Did you not think I deserved to know?"

"I-I-"

"I would have stayed for you! I-"

I stand up and he backs up a couple steps. "That's exactly why!"

"What?"

"You would've hated us if you stayed. You would've resented it. You just said you'd be disappointed. You don't think we wouldn't have picked up on that?"

"You didn't give me a fucking choice, Vanessa! Does he even know me?"

"He doesn't know who you are. I told him you were a superhero, fighting a really bad man in another country. And that you'd come back when he was caught."

Javier hesitates a moment. "You never gave me a choice! I lost all of that time. I lost...FUCK! I can't even look at you!" He turns and walks away, past the parking lot and into the street, heading towards town.

I call after him but it's no use. I collapse onto the bench, my head in my hands, finally letting the tears out that I'd been holding back for so long.

-------

The next morning, I set at the kitchen island, a mug of hot coffee clutched between my cold hands as I wait for Javier. I hear the sounds of someone moving down the stairs and I sit up straighter, but Chucho enters the kitchen. I feel my face fall as he looks at me.

"I know I'm not a looker but-"

"Sorry, Chucho. I was expecting.." my voice trails off and he cocks his head.

"Javi? He left."

I sit bolt upright. "Left?"

Chucho pours himself a mug of coffee. "Yeah for Cali. Didn't he tell you? He was going to tell you last night that he was heading back. It was sort of a secret but I told him you'd probably notice if you were no longer sharing a bathroom."

I feel the blood drain from my face. "He's gone?"

Chucho turns, mug in hand and scans my face. "Yeah. I thought he told you? When neither of you returned to the reception, I assumed...well, I thought he'd tell you before he..."

Tears fall wet and hard from my already puffy face. Chucho looks alarmed but sets his mug down and pulls me to him, letting me soak his shirt as he makes calming sounds at me.

"I told him, Chucho. I told him about Alex," My speech is muffled but he hears it all the same.

"What happened?"

I tell him the entire conversation, how Javier just stormed off and how I expected to see him this morning, to apologize and tell him he doesn't have to be involved, that I can move out to make it easier. Chucho waves me off with that last one. "I would never make you move out. Javi doesn't cook nearly as good as you."

I give him a small smile, my shoulders still shaking from sobbing.

"Listen, Vanessa. I won't give you a lecture. You know my opnion and it's no use retelling you. But he knows now. Javier tends to run from things."

"So we're his latest Lorraine?"

Chucho cocks his head, thinking. "I doubt that very much. You're not Lorraine. He looks at you differently."

"Looked. I doubt he'll even want to see me again."

"Mm...let's just give him space, ok?"

"But what if he's down there another 6 years?"

"Something tells me it won't take him that long to think about things."

-------

Javier

It had been a month since Vanessa told him he has a kid. That he has a 6 year old son he knew nothing about, knew nothing about him. Except that he's a hero. Which is a lie.

The Cali Cartel had another 5 months before they would be "turning themselves in", which was a big joke. He had to catch them before the time was up so they could face actual justice and not this fake, bureaucratic bullshit.

He's tried to resort back to his old ways of dealing, burying himself in a woman. But when he tried to, he couldn't bring himself to do anything, let alone sleep with them. It was everything he could do to not pick up a cigarette, but his patience was wearing thin.

He tried not to think about Vanessa and her confession. But when the work day was over, and he went back to his penthouse the government provided, his brain would play that conversation over and over in his head. At first, he continued to remain livid, that she had denied him the choice of knowing his family, being with his kid. But then his dad's words echoed in his mind, the call coming the day he landed in Cali.

"That girl has been through hell, Javi. Don't be the asshole you claimed you wouldn't be."

"She didn't tell me I had a kid, dad. A kid! Who does that?"

"She was only thinking about you! This whole time, she was worried about your wellbeing. She didn't want you distracted or resentful, even if it cost her everything."

"What did it cost her?"

"Her parents! Her family, friends, her church. Ours welcomed her with open arms only because I was there to vouch for her. She was shunned from her entire life and still only worried about you. Don't be such a stubborn asshole."

He thought about Vanessa, so young and pregnant, trying to figure out how to tell her strict parents she was expecting despite not being married. Them kicking her out, closing her off from all of her friends and family, anyone who would support her. Her finding the strength and will to drive all the way back to Loredo to try and find him and discovering he would be away for an indefinite amount of time. What would he do in that situation? Run away from it, probably. Which she didn't have the option of doing.

He takes a swig of his drink, the ice cubes clunking against his top lip. He wants to meet his kid, Alex. Wants to tell him that the bad guy was caught and that he's back. Would he be back? It's probably good Alex doesn't know who he is, in case something happens to him here. But if he gets to go home, he knows he wants to be in his life.

What about Vanessa? Will she let him in their lives? Javier is pretty sure she will, even with the way he left. But what about her? If he's honest with himself, truly honest, when he looks past the anger, he sees her big eyes, the freckles on her cheeks, the sass she gives him in her quiet manner. And he thinks, no. He knows. He knows he loves her. He thinks she loves him. If she didn't, surely she would've told him long ago, not caring about his well being. But she had been so adamant about not telling him, wanting him to be safe.

He crosses his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuck, what was he doing? Granted he signed up to go back to Cali when they called him in, assuming that if he didn't they would throw him in prison. But honestly, he was ready to come back and actually be here when they get the bad guys. But then Vanessa came back into his life and now a kid.

Fuck, he's an idiot.

-------

Vanessa

6 months. It had been 6 months since Javier stormed out and ran away to Cali. Ok, run away was harsh as he went there for work, agreeing to it long before he knew I was here. But he hadn't called and I took that as a sign, no matter how many times Chucho said it doesn't mean anything because he doesn't call him either. He gets too caught up in his work.

It's the start of summer, the windows are open to get a cross breeze coming through the house. I do miss the ac back home, but I'll take Chucho's home over the one I grew up in any day, heat or no.

Alex got a new book and I hadn't seen him for a couple hours as he's spent them in his room, devouring the latest in his series. He did come out once, nose buried in the book, to ask me for a snack.

I finish washing his cup, setting it on the rack to dry. I stare out the little window over the sink, watching Chucho putter about between the barn and the shed, thinking about the animals and how hot it's going to get out there. I know they're used to it, but still. I'' have to get some extra ice trays at the store so I can throw some more in their water troughs. Chucho says that's why they all like me so much.

Suddenly, I hear heavy steps on the wood floor behind me, much heavier than Alex's. I spin, my hand gripping the cast iron pan that was sitting there. But when I fully turn, I nearly drop the pan.

Javier is there, standing in front of me, his chest heaving, a small bead of sweat sliding down his neck and onto his chest, which is slightly exposed by his several undone buttons in his lavender purple, button up shirt.

"Javier, I-"

"Sshh. I'm sorry."

"What?"

He takes a few steps towards me. "I never should have just left. I at least should've told you about Cali."

"No. I'm sorry. I should've told-"

He's only a couple steps from me now. "No, it's ok. I understand. You were thinking about your family. About how it would affect even me. you did what you had to do."

This was not what I expected. He reaches for the pan, still clutched in my hand. He takes it and sets it on the counter behind me, leaning close to me. He looks down at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek and I inhale sharply at the sensation.

"You're so brave and I'm a fucking idiot."

"You have every right-"

He pulls me to him, gently pressing his lips to mine, giving me time and space to stop him. But what he doesn't know is his touch has sent me spiraling, spinning away into the sky. And when his tongue slides into my mouth, my body trembles slightly, my hand coming up to mindlessly grab onto his arm. But then he pulls back, staring into my eyes.

"I'm in love with you."

My stomach lurches, a thousand butterflies being released in my body at his words. Love? He loves me? I never thought I'd hear those words from anyone, let alone the man I've loved since I was 19. The reason none of my dates every worked out.

"And it's ok if you don't-"

"I love you too."

He smiles, a real smile that lights up even his eyes, both of his hands now cupping my face. "Really?"

"Why do you think none of those dates ever worked out? It was always you, Javi."

He kisses me more passionately now, his hand leaving my face to grip my hip, pulling me against him. I feel him through his tight jeans, pressing into me and I groan a little in his mouth.

"Fuck, you're so intoxicating. It was killing me not to kiss you."

"Mmm." Is all I can manage to say. But then I remember we're not alone, not this time.

"Do you want to meet him?"

Javier pulls his face back from mine. "He's here?"

I nod. "Yeah. Reading, upstairs."

He shifts, tugging on his pants. "Hell yeah I want to meet him. But uh, give me a sec?"

I glance down and chuckle. "Maybe I can help you with that later?"

He groans. "You aren't helping any now."

He turns and walks out the back door and I see him say hi to his dad, embracing him. Chucho watches him for a moment and then a smile appears and he claps him on the shoulder. I can only assume he's telling him he's going to meet Alex. Javier comes back inside, taking a deep breath.

"Ok, I think I'm ready."

"Alex! Can you come downstairs for a minute?"

Small feet patter across the floor upstairs and make their way down, Alex appearing in the kitchen a moment later, his book still propped open in his hand.

"Mom, I was at a really good part!"

"Alex, I have someone I want you to meet."

"Can it wait?"

I kneel down to get on his level, his eyes, so like Javier's, staring back at me, sensing the seriousness.

"Alex, meet your dad, Javier."

Slowly he turns, looking up at Javier who waves at him awkwardly. "Hey, kiddo. I uh, got the bad guy. I'm sorry it took me so long."

Alex continues to stare at him for a moment. Then he throws his precious book to the floor, running full out towards Javier, who throws his arms out at the last minute as Alex leaps into them, nearly knocking him over.

"Dad? It's really you?"

"It really is."

Alex clutches onto him, tears in both of their eyes. "I always dreamed of meeting you! This is the best day of my life!"

Javier hugs him tight, fighting back the tears that are quickly gathering in his eyes. "This is the best day of my life too, son."

-------

2 years later...

I load up the old tractor with a couple of picnic baskets, 4 large thermos full of homemade lemonade next to them. I close the back and carefully hop up, driving slowly across the property, a smile on my face. After a while, I pull up to the 3 men in my life: Chucho trying to carry wood by himself, Javi yelling at him as he runs to help him, and Alex, hammering away at a spare piece of wood. They were at the back end of the property repairing a downed section of fence. Javier sees me pull up and he rushes over, offering me his hand to help me down.

"I wish you hadn't driven this thing."

"Well if I walked, it would've been dinner by the time I brought your lunch."

"Mom! Watch me!" Alex starts hammering on a piece of wood Chucho had laid in the ground, Javier moving to help him pound it in further.

"My strong man!"

"Son, gather up the tools and put them in the box. We're taking a break for lunch."

Alex starts to look around for the tools as Javier turns back to me. He wraps his arm around me and leans in to kiss me, sliding his tongue over my bottom lip.

"Now now none of that. That made this happen," I rest my hand on my enlarged belly as Javier leans down, planting a kiss to my stomach before standing back up. He leans close to my ear.

"I plan on putting as many kids in you as you'll let me."

I slap his chest, but the thought warms me. "Let's just see how these 2 go first, yeah?"

He smiles at me, kissing me again before lifting Alex into the back of the trailer, helping me to set up the picnic lunches I had made for all of them. As we stare out at the river, a boat comes through, obviously carrying illegal items, most likely drugs. Javier stiffens, but then looks around at us.

"I'm done. I've done all I can. Now I just want to spend my life with my family."

-------

General Taglist:

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[antimony-medusa]

HEY MCYTBLR HAVE YOU HEARD OF YULETIDE?

What's this? I have come once again to your dash to tell you about an exchange? Absolutely I have. And let me tell you, this one is a doozy.

Yuletide is The Big Multifandom Exchange. It is the king of exchanges. It happens every year, and the works reveal on December 25th, and de-anon on the 1st of January. Last year over 1,800 people took part in the exchange. A lot of people only do Yuletide from the roster of exchanges. It is literally so big that it's the reason we have the Ao3 matching algorithm, because the Ao3 algorithm was built to handle Yuletide, because you have to algorithm match that one, it is simply unfeasible to hand-match an exchange of this magnitude.

What makes Yuletide special is that it is an exchange for rare and tiny fandoms— specifically, fandoms with less than 1000 fics on the archive. So all these niche book fandoms that get 10 fics posted in them a year— these people sign up for Yuletide, and they get matched. And people sign up with SUCH small fandoms.

Commercials.

Tumblr posts.

Art.

Songs.

Reddit Posts.

TikTok skits.

Web comics.

Twitter threads.

Books published 30 years ago.

Anthropomorphic concepts.

Niche tv shows.

Video games.

You can look at the tag list last year to get an idea of the sort of fandoms that show up in it. I did it last year, and I signed up with two book fandoms, SMPEarth, anthropomorphic apple products, and the "humans are space orcs" tumblr post as my fandoms.

Wait, SMPearth? And yes, we have come to the point of why I am specifically talking to MCYTblr. I do the MCYT on Ao3 stats dive every month, so I happen to know that there are 35 canonized MCYT tags that are eligable, as they have less than 1000 fics.

Pirates SMP is eligable.

Ivorycello Prison Escapes is eligable.

Karmaland is eligable.

Rats SMP is eligable.

Witchcraft SMP is eligible.

New Life SMP is eligable.

SMPLive is eligable.

Mianite is eligable.

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[zgvlt]

the trials and tribulations of a third wheel silver x reader (+ platonic! sebek x reader)

summary: sebek, your best friend, finds out that you have a crush on silver; he also finds out that silver has some interest in you. he does not know what he's signed up for when he ends up helping the both of you out

author's note: [see end for full notes] this is like half friendship fic, half romance, but fully written to just be filled with good vibes :> (no unrequited feelings here so no need to worry about that if it bothers you)

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, friendship and romance, friends to lovers, attempt at humor, multiple POV, 8.5k+ words, not beta read

you can also read this on AO3

I. YOU decide to spill a secret

You should have had the foresight to keep your hands slapped over Sebek’s mouth when you let him in on one of your secrets. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too late to do so and the boy was too surprised to even get mad about your insolence… or whatever fancy word he had in that big brain of his.

“Yeah, yeah, go get your screaming out right now,” you said in a placating manner, as if he was your kid or something, “I’ll let you talk in a bit when, you know, you won’t immediately spill my secrets to everyone outside of this room.”

“Excuse ME!” Sebek exclaimed—or, that was what it sounded like muffled—before getting tired of your behavior, pushing your hands away. To your credit, he could have totally pushed it off a minute ago, so he was at least indulging you… probably. “I’m FAR mature enough to not shout at you OR complain about your horrid taste in men—id est, Silver—to everyone else.”

“Horrid?!” you gasped despite not being surprised at all, “so we’re just gonna pretend you weren’t completely agreeing with everything I was saying about him?”

“That was because I THOUGHT you were talking about–” he stopped mid-hiss, lowering his volume before you could reprimand him yourself– “I thought you were talking about the Young Master! Or if not him, then Master Lilia.”

“I said princelike, not prince.”

“It’s not like he’s anything like the Young Master!... or even Leona Kingscholar, if we want to be generous with the descriptor.”

“And Lilia?”

“He’s majestic in his own right,” he claimed, which you supposed had some truth to it, though you personally saw the third year as someone more mischievous than majestic.

“Okay, fine, fine, my mistake for not clarifying immediately,” you said, not particularly sorry. General misunderstandings aside, there was something funny about watching your mint-haired friend do a spit take (fortunately with no actual drink to spit out). “So if I ended up being into one of them instead, what would you have said?” 

Because honestly, you couldn’t quite tell if he would smite you on the spot—friend or otherwise—or if he would have congratulated you for your efficient, working eyes.

Sebek frowned.

“It would have been weird and I wouldn’t offer to help you,” he admitted, “but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“And now that you know who I actually like?”

“Even weirder. It’s like… having my friend and a sibling date,” Sebek said, which was his way of telling you that you were giving him the icks, “there could be… there are worse choices, but because it’s you and it’s because it’s him… ugh.”

You wondered which one of you he saw as the sibling and which one was the friend. Knowing Sebek, he would loathe to admit either of you were either one unless he was feeling particularly vulnerable or in an insanely good mood.

After a moment of silence—Sevens, it was just like Sebek to take seriously things that weren’t that big of a deal—and a  minute of staring you down he sighed, sinking into his seat as he slouched for once in his life.

“I don’t know what to do with this information,” he finally said, “am I supposed to give you approval before you start courting him? It would be better to ask his fa– Master Lilia, you know.”

“Why would I ask either one of you for approval? I just like him, I shouldn’t have to ask permission to like someone,” you huffed, “I just felt like telling you is all. Impulse decision.”

“So you don’t have any plans on telling him?”

“Not any time soon, which means you better not say a WORD about this to him either,” you said, only a semi-serious warning. You didn’t think he would, definitely not on purpose, but the idea of Silver having a clue made you nervous. “I know you’re loud as hell, but I trust you.”

Whatever retort or snippy remark Sebek planned to say had been bitten back; he had been unable to hide his smile at the compliment.

“Hmph! My lips are not as loose as you think! I can keep a secret just fine, thank you very much! He won’t even get an inkling of the fact that you carry feelings for him!”

“Alright,” you readily accepted his claim. Honestly, it felt nice to finally tell someone about this crush of yours, even though you wouldn’t have thought Sebek of all people would be the first to know.

“By the way… Not that I need your approval, but do you approve?”

The boy in front of you looks contemplative one second and constipated in another, as if he was holding back from saying something nice, too early in the day to be particularly honest.

“There are worse men to fall in love with than Silver,” he settled with.

“Oh, like who? Like yourself?”

A pillow hit you in the face but you could only laugh at how obvious the lack of strength he put into the throw was.

“Flattering yourself, typical of you. There are few people above you in league and I would be one of them,” he said and you’re unsure if he’s even aware of the praise he just provided. Backhanded, but praise is praise regardless. “Worse as in… my fellow first years.”

“Hah! Traitor behavior! It’s like you’re asking to get told on!” You hit him back with the same pillow, sticking your tongue out as he caught it with one hand.

“Then I’ll go tell Silver right now about this crush of yours!” And just by looking at his grin, you knew the ever serious Sebek had simply been joking. 

He’d shield your secret as best as he could.

II. SEBEK answers a dumb question

In Sebek’s defense, he’s doing the best he can in, for a lack of a more eloquent way to phrase it, shutting the hell up about your crush on his rival. His rival of all people! 

You should get your eyes checked, really, and if his father were an ophthalmologist instead of a dentist he would have taken you with him to Briar Valley already.

So no, maybe he wasn’t actively cheering you on, but you’re one of the few people he can actually rely on and call a friend, so he supposed he wasn’t going to judge you too harshly, even if he thought you could do better (not that there was much better in NRC anyway, so he guessed you already picked your cream of choice from the crop).

Silver would just have to pick up his slack. 

Sure, you told him you needed no help whatsoever, he would at least do his part in making sure his rival would be good for you… or something. He’s not too sure what he’s supposed to even do, really, other than putting his 105% in training instead of the usual 100.

Sebek only has one prevalent issue, that being that he’s having a bit of a hard time not interrogating his sparring partner about you. It’s so DIFFICULT when your secret would loop in his head each greeting Silver gave him in the mornings or when they passed in the hallways.

Difficulty aside, he’s PROUD to say that he’s been very successful in not even uttering your name to the second year, so clearly his good restraint has kept him as trustworthy as usual.

Then a second problem rose out of nowhere, a wrench thrown in his well-kept secrecy.

He had not anticipated that Silver would be the one to bring you up himself. Even more surprising was the way he brought you up—well, it was odd for him to bring you up midst spar, but the way he worded it was the true unusual part.

“Repeat that.”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

Would Lord Malleus be angry if he whacked Silver with his own baton? Would you… oh, why was he even questioning it, of course you would, but you wouldn’t have the chance to be mad if he never told you, right? He could keep a second secret.

“Are you joking?!” he asked in spite of Silver’s usual expression. The boy never had a particularly obvious sense of humor.

“It’s a serious question,” Silver replied, narrowly dodging a jab from Sebek, “I’ve never seen you so close to somebody before.”

He scoffed. Was it that unbelievable? 

“WELL–” he had meant to retort that he only spent a perfectly normal amount of time with you (had he been implying he was abandoning his duties?!), promptly followed by calling the notion disgusting (he couldn’t find it in himself to say such a thing), but he instead said– 

“Why does it matter? I’m allowed to be around anyone I want for as long as they mean no harm to the Young Master!”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Sebek. You need to untense,” his rival sighed and the first year had half the mind to hit him in the face (and not with a pillow). HE was the exasperated one, so why was Silver doing the sighing?!

“I was just curious about your friend, that’s all.”

Sebek furrowed his brows. 

“Why?”

While there were no right answers there were certainly a few wrong ones, so he listened carefully, clenching his fists. One demeaning word and he would—

“I was wondering if–”

III. SEBEK reports back to you

“–I hate him? Silver thinks I hate him?!” 

“He was wondering, it wasn’t definitive!” Sebek corrected, catching the piece of popcorn you threw at him. He promptly ate it, never one to waste food. “Hey! I told him you didn’t, so it’s not a big deal anymore.”

“But for a time he thought I didn’t like him,” you argued, “that’s worse than him thinking we were dating!”

Sebek gasped.

“I resent that!” 

“Please, I’m sure you beating him in yesterday’s spar was more than just your skill talking—you were probably appalled at the accusation,” you retorted, “and don’t think I forgot! I heard him talk about a bruise forming!”

“It’ll heal! And he could have dodged it if he was paying attention—he usually does!” he said, though now that you mentioned it, it was odd for Silver to not pay attention to training—usually Sebek was the conversationalist between the both of them. “It’s not like you can see it, so you don’t have to worry about me ruining his face or anything.”

“I’m sure he’s pretty even when injured,” you sniffled, and Sebek gagged. He’d have left you to your own devices already (he already sees Silver everyday, why should he listen to you rave about him?) if you hadn’t offered a nice variety of snacks for him to partake in while you talked.

“Okay, wait, back to the topic—why does he think I hate him?”

“He said that you act differently around him,” he said, placing the word in air quotation marks, “which is Silver speech for you being a weirdo. Did you do something?”

“Huh? Weird?! There’s no way I act weirder around him than I do around you!”

“THAT’S WHAT I WAS SAYING!” he agreed wholeheartedly. Well, he didn’t call you weird to Silver’s face—but that was the gist of what he was thinking, and there was no need to pretend to be polite about it to you. 

Sure you were kind, that much he would admit, but a little… a lot. You were a lot, a lot of the time.

Still, even considering your lack of shame around him he doubted Silver would have seen or heard anything too odd from you. 

“Although there’s always the chance that I’ve just become desensitized considering my unfortunate choices of company.”

“So, so rude,” you huffed, “I swear I’m normal around Silver. I don’t get many chances to talk to him in the first place.”

Sebek blinked. 

“You don’t?”

“I mean, maybe a few times a week?” you replied, suddenly looking embarrassed at the estimate, “I don’t see him everyday, but even if I did I don’t think I could actually say anything more than hello.”

There was a saying, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say it at all, but if he’d never abided by that saying, nobody would expect him to start following it any time soon.

“So you really had no plan to make him like you back, huh.”

“Is that your way of saying I have no game?”

“I wouldn’t word it that way, but you really don’t!” he ignored your look of offense (he’s not the best at reading faces, but he doubted you were actually offended) in favor of giving some actual advice. “Maybe he thinks you act differently around him because you won’t even talk to him!”

He was on to something, he was sure of it, and by the look you had on your face he was sure you agreed.

“You’re probably right… but I was totally going for that cool and cute and mysterious vibe, you know,” you grumbled, “people always notice those types. I mean, Silver is literally an example of it. 

“I feel like if I actually talk to him about something other than school, he’s going to realize I’m lame.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You are, but that hasn’t stopped me from talking to you,” Sebek said with a shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal or anything, “so if I don’t care, obviously Silver isn’t going to.”

And then he gave you a pat on the head, because he’s not really sure of what else to do. 

“Do you want me to do anything?” Sebek offered, “I won’t say anything to him, but if you want to know his favorite food, or birthday, or weekly class schedule–”

“I feel like you went from zero to one hundred real quick,” you said with a laugh, patting him on the back in return, “but I don't need you to do anything. Some things I should probably find out for myself.”

“If you say so.”

IV. SEBEK stresses out for you

While you were content to not do anything about your crush (said crush didn’t think you hated him anymore so you lost all sense of urgency), Silver himself seemed to want to do something.

And Sebek had to be on the receiving end again. Never again can you call him a bad friend.

“I’m not telling you anything,” he said with a sliver of annoyance, “there’s nothing you can’t figure out for yourself.”

“I tried, but a few minutes into the conversation… I was left behind.”

“Ah…” 

YOU RAN AWAY FROM HIM?!

He cursed you in his head. What were you doing?! Did he not teach you ANYTHING? Well, okay, he technically didn’t because the thought of him giving advice on how to catch Silver’s attention… yeah. Still, you have to face your problems, run up at them! Why were you running away from them like a coward instead?!

“Try harder then,” Sebek said, because that was all he could really say without giving away too much… which, at this point, he was very tempted to do just so you and Silver could stop dragging him into things. 

More Silver than you, really, considering you mostly enjoyed talking over acting… unlike Silver, who preferred acting over talking, and Sebek, who liked talking and acting.

“What are you trying to do anyway?” he asked inquisitively, subconsciously taking on the role of the investigators and detectives he’s read about in those mystery novels. Sebek did not want to be questioned about you, but he was very much interested in questioning Silver on the same topic. It was not hypocrisy, it was a matter of privilege.

Privilege equating to you being his friend, resulting in him knowing things about you that he wasn’t just going to easily shell out without proper reason.

“Since when were you so interested in my friend? This doesn’t feel like you just being curious anymore!” 

He did not bother hiding his suspicion, his head conjuring up all sorts of theories on Silver’s sudden interest. 

Sebek was neither purely optimistic nor purely pessimistic, neither was he a realist either (though he liked to think he was). Thus, his theories ranged from wait what if Silver thinking you hated him was a form of projection as he was the one who hated you to perhaps Silver overheard you talking about some way to stay awake and he wanted to talk to you about it to Silver is in love with you but he’s just as much of a coward when it comes to acting on it.

“It wouldn’t be good if anyone was uncomfortable with me,” the second year replied, “I want to do something to fix it.”

“Huh,” he said, more an expression of his disbelief than an actual question. Sure, Silver could be considered nice, but something about the explanation was off. He’s really not sure why, but he just knows it’s far more personal—that it had to do with that someone being you as opposed to you being just anyone.

“Well, FINE! I’ll give you my assistance just this once, so DON’T put it to waste, Silver!”

V. SILVER gets to talk to you, finally

“Since when were you so interested in my friend?”

Since Silver had seen you with Sebek, if he had to be honest. He hadn’t been sure if that was an acceptable thing to tell someone so he hadn’t admitted it to the younger boy, but that was the truth.

It wasn’t that he had only been aware of you then—he knew you existed, had seen you around more than a few times on campus—but noticing you was inevitable when you chose to stick to a presence as loud as Sebek Zigvolt.

As for why he had taken an interest in you… there were a few reasons. 

The first would probably be curiosity—what kind of person could not only withstand the half-fae’s volume, but could also manage to pull him away from constantly following Malleus (without having to be dismissed in annoyance!)

The second was somewhat Sebek related, but also quite a general reason—it was your general disposition. There was just something heartwarming about the way you interacted with your friends (Sebek in particular—it was hard not to be in awe). Yes, he never made a habit of watching you, but seeing you from the corner of his eye, goofing around and spitting out jokes, never failed to liven up his mood.

The third was… something he couldn’t quite place about your attitude towards him. 

At first he had assumed you hated him, but Sebek in all of his bluntness had expressed exasperation at the idea, so he supposed that wasn’t the case. Silver then figured he was the problem and, well… considering you seemed to have a hard time holding a conversation with him, perhaps that was the case.

It shouldn’t have mattered—people were entitled to dislike whoever they liked—but the idea of you specifically not liking his presence, especially when he enjoyed your presence  on campus… It was quite the upsetting thought. 

He wasn’t asking to be close to you, but it would have been nice to have a few conversations with you in between classes.

Whatever the problem was, Sebek said he would try to help decrease the awkward tension, but… was making himself your chaperone the ideal way to do such a thing?

“SEBEK…!” 

Maybe not, considering you were (angrily? fiercely?) whispering a flurry of things to the mint-haired boy, who was (far more loudly) whispering back. Still, the context clues were not enough for him to figure out what the two of you were conversing about—other than that it was about him.

“Don’t you dare…”

“...push…helping…

“I don’t…I told you already…”

“...assuming…for you…Silver.”

In any other circumstance, he would have pointed out that it was rude of Sebek to be talking about him to someone while he was literally in front of him, but he figured that you would just use it as an excuse to, well, excuse yourself from the situation, so he kept his mouth shut.

At some point the both of you remembered that he was in earshot distance, the two of you owlishly looking at him.

Sebek nudges you, you nudge him right back, and not for the first time Silver wonders if he could ever achieve that level of comfort with you… which was an odd thing to think about, considering he should probably be aiming to at least complete a full conversation first and foremost.

“Hi Silver!” you greeted, as though you had just noticed him, as though he hadn’t been standing there for at least five minutes. 

At least you’re not walking away from him this time around.

“So… what are… Do you need Sebek for something?”

Sebek rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word for once, clearly expecting you or Silver to do most of the talking. Considering his fellow guard was always the more talkative one of the two… that was asking for a lot more than Sebek might have realized.

Right… What now? If Sebek had informed him of this beforehand he might have thought of something to say

Silver looked down at his wrist before realizing he wasn’t wearing a watch, then looked at yours to see if you were—you hadn’t been. He then fished his phone out of his pocket, only to find out that he had forgotten to charge it last night (had he passed out before doing so?), so he turned to Sebek, who only looked mildly disappointed at the silence.

“What time is it?”

“Half past four.”

“Do either of you have any classes left today?”

“We’re both done,” you responded, “why?”

“Maybe we should all get something to eat or drink then,” Silver said, “there’s a lot of tea in Diasomnia, but Mostro should have coffee if you prefer that.”

He’s heard you laugh a dozen times before but you’ve never done it in front of him and sure, you try to stifle it within seconds, but the idea that something about him humored you had him smiling in return.

Even though he wasn’t quite sure what was funny.

“Coffee? You could have just said you wanted Sebek to go away—I’d understand, really.”

“For your information! I can drink coffee as long as there’s milk in it!”

“Yeah right. Coffee with milk? More like milk with coffee.”

The conversation had returned to mostly being led by you and Sebek once more, with Silver responding whenever he felt it suited. Still, all three of you were heading to the same place, so he supposed there was always later in the afternoon to get closer to you.

He feels Sebek pat him on the back during the few seconds you look away to greet someone in passing, and he says,

“You did okay, I guess… but don’t expect me to help you anymore after this.”

He thinks it might just be a compliment, or some form of approval.

VI. SEBEK gives decent advice

“You talked to him just fine yesterday! What do you mean you’re too shy to talk to him again?!”

Things had been going well, hadn’t it? He had watched you interact with Silver and you were actually forming words instead of foaming at the mouth over your crush. You were having a laugh with Silver and discussing your respective hobbies with him, even letting him have a taste of your order! 

Sebek had been all proud of you too, even with the shared jokes about him (which were haha funny, he was so getting back at you later)! What happened?!

“That’s because you were there! I’m too nervous to go up to him on my own!”

“I can’t just be there to babysit you all the time, now can I?!”

He didn’t want to invalidate your feelings or anything of the sort—some conversations in the past with you have led him to realize that—but it was difficult for a partial-bystander, partial-participant like him to not feel frustrated at the situation. 

You’re his friend, and Silver is… Silver is the only other person his age from his hometown, so while he understands that he doesn’t actually have to get involved, he also feels this need to make sure things go well for the both of you. Not necessarily romantically, but anywhere you (and he SUPPOSED Silver) would feel happy would be good in his books.

He gives the both of you a few minutes to just… sit, for him to think with his head and not the stress hormones in his body. The cortisol levels needed to die down just a bit else his blood pressure rise or his digestive system weakens.

“Sorry–”

“Stupid,” Sebek interrupted, “don’t say sorry about things you shouldn’t be sorry about. You said what you felt, I replied with what I thought about it, and that’s that. I’m not sorry that I’m kind of annoyed with you sometimes, but you’re not obligated to follow my recommendations either. Be annoyed with me back, if you want to!”

You blinked at him for a few moments, taking your sweet time in having the words sink in your skull, then laughed as you called him stupid back. You probably agreed, or so he would like to think.

“Even if I didn’t want to, you're always annoying, Sebek.”

He ignored your rudeness in favor of returning the conversation back to what it was initially, albeit with some more delicacy on his end.

“Why are you so nervous around him?” Sebek asked, realizing he had never seriously discussed it with you before. He’d poke fun at it, but never really stopped to question why you froze up so easily around your crush. 

Maybe it was because he thought it was the natural thing to do around someone you liked, at least based on the stories he’s heard and read, but there had to be, if not a logical reason, a personal reason behind it.

“I get that you like him and all but he’s just… a regular human.”

“Easy for you to say! Not only have you known him since childhood, but you’re also not a regular human!” you interjected. Despite the jab you did seem to want to answer properly, so he let you collect your thoughts for a minute, figure out how to explain yourself.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve always liked him from afar,” you admitted, “he was this… handsome and shining figure—quiet, but charming and diligent. He was just… so cool that I couldn’t help but admire him.”

Sebek would have pretended to gag at any other time, but upon listening to you he wondered what Silver would have felt had he heard the way you described him, how far it was from hatred.

“What do you think about him after talking to him yesterday?”

“He… he was so considerate even though I thought I was being a complete weirdo sometimes! So kind and helpful and occasionally funny. Was it possible for someone to be so…wow!” Despite the slew or praises leaving your lips, the irony of you sounding as if you were lamenting your feelings was not lost on him. 

“I think I like him more than I thought. It’s making me more nervous, just thinking about interacting with him and messing up somehow.”

It was then that Sebek had come to a realization, an actual finding as opposed to another hypothesis—the way you saw Silver, the way Silver saw you, the obstacles in your path that blocked you from being comfortable with the guy you liked so much.

“Silver’s just a guy.”

“He’s–”

“No, listen to me,” Sebek interrupted. He’s always had a voice that demanded to be listened to, booming like thunder, but when his voice was steady and firm it was like he was asking, maybe even begging. 

“I don’t mean it like it’s a bad thing. I’m just saying that no matter how perfect and amazing you think he is, he is just a normal guy,” he said, “so it’s okay if you mess up because he messes up too… a lot, actually.”

You wouldn’t say anything at first and he wondered if you perhaps didn’t believe him, or if he worded things a bit harshly. Should he try to lighten the mood? Should he double down and explain some more?

“I’m serious! I can list a whole bunch off the top of my head right this instant if you want!”

“No! No, not needed. I feel like I should hear that from Silver himself? Or Lilia? You spent your childhoods with him, right?”

Your laughter only stayed for a second or two, but the length didn’t matter much. As long as it was genuine.

“That… might actually be some really good advice,” you admitted; he was only able to detect a smidge of disbelief, “it’d be nice if you took… ah, nevermind.”

“You can say what you want to say.”

“I’ll save it for later,” you replied, shaking your head, “otherwise we’d be cooped up in my room until sunrise talking about all our issues.”

“You talk as if I haven’t been on the receiving end of that before.”

“Okay, point.”

A few minutes pass where neither of you do any talking and while it’s not uncomfortable Sebek does wonder if he should get up and leave, if you would prefer to be left to your own devices. Before he can do that, however, you ask one last question.

“Do you think I could ever be this comfortable with Silver? You know, where I can rant to him, or talk about any insecurities I have, or anything along those lines.”

He’s not really sure if the question was rhetorical, more you pondering and less expecting an answer out of him, but he replies with his thoughts anyway.

“Maybe start with your hobbies first, or his favorite food or something,” Sebek says, only half joking, “but if… once you get closer? I might have to start arguing with him about who knows you better!”

“Stupid…you already argue with him about everything anyway!”

VII. SILVER talks to you, the sequel

Sebek can’t chaperone you all the time. Friendship aside, he’s a busy first year with other people to follow around and other people to (excitedly) ask about their days, after all.

That’s what Sebek tells Silver, although the latter’s not sure why he’s suddenly become the replacement to keep you company, or why you need a replacement at all. 

The answer is probably that you don’t. You’ve escorted yourself from class to your room just fine before Sebek became your friend and it’s not like you’ve forgotten how to do it on your own. 

He’s well aware that Sebek’s trying to get him to do something and while he’s not sure what it could be, Silver had no plans to say no anyway. 

He’s been wanting to talk to you again—reasons difficult to describe but could at least be summed up as simply wanting to be around you—so for as long as his presence isn’t needed elsewhere he’ll take the chance to do so.

(Something in his gut tells him neither his father nor Sebek will try to call his cell phone anytime soon.)

He made his way from his last class to yours… but not before drinking the leftovers of his afternoon coffee—just in case. He’s sure you know of his predicament and he has no doubts you’ll be nice about it, but it’d be upsetting if a conversation with you was cut short.

You smile upon meeting his eyes and he can’t help himself from smiling back. It wasn’t that he was trying to stop himself from doing so, but more so that it was less a conscious choice and more a natural reaction. You actually seemed happy to see him this time, and the thought of you being happy because of that made him… glad. 

He’s not as verbose as… literally every fae (and half-fae, on that account) he knows, but the word seemed good enough to describe his present feelings.

“I feel like I should apologize on Sebek’s behalf,” you said, trailing after him as the both of you moved through the crowded hallways, “he’s… he means well, but he likes to meddle.”

He understands what you mean—Sebek at his very core is a well-meaning worrywart, but he doesn’t really get what that has to do with you. He simply assumed that this was Sebek going against his once-in-this-lifetime-assistance promise, but apparently you knew something about the first year’s motivations that he didn’t.

That or Sebek had ratted him out, which was just… awkward. Imagining himself explaining his thought process… He himself was having difficulties sorting it out, new reasons popping up one after another, so having to choose what reason to give you or worse, having to tell you everything… 

No thank you.

“That’s just how he is,” he shrugged, “but I don't mind. I enjoy talking to you.”

“Sorry?!” you sputtered, as though unable to fathom the thought of it. Before he could repeat himself or ask why you seemed shocked, you followed up with, “I… not that I don’t feel the same, but why?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he asked, eyebrows furrowed, “does there have to be a reason?”

He does have his reasons, but all the same those reasons stemmed from him simply feeling that way, not exactly anything logical he could explain.

“I guess not, but we’ve only had a proper conversation… like, last time? All the other times I, uh, cut it off short,” you looked a bit sheepish at the admission. “Sorry about that by the way. I didn’t hate you or anything.”

Oh. Unless you were particularly good at reading his thoughts, Sebek did relay back to you about some things he asked about you. 

While he’s not as competitive as the younger boy, he’ll try to get back at him next training.

“That’s good,” he said, a small sense of relief filling him. Not that he thought Sebek was lying, but it was still nice to hear it from you. “It would be bad if you did, since…”

He thought about your question again—what could he possibly say to get you to understand without being too upfront, or vague, or confusing?

“Since?”

“Talking to you is a good way to relax after class,” Silver said, admittedly just saying the first reason he could think of, which was what he thought to be a decently-worded depiction of the truth. 

“Well, when you put it like that, I totally get what you–”

“Seeing you soothes me.”

Maybe Silver shouldn’t have said that last portion. However, what’s done is already done, and while you keep walking with him, you neither look at him nor speak to him. He wished he could understand what you were thinking, or that he could ask someone for advice at this moment without you knowing.

Realistically the silence lasts only for a minute or two, but by the time that you break it it feels like ten at the last, and it’s to the point that he inwardly sighs in relief that you don’t seem particularly upset or perturbed.

“I feel the same,” you replied, “similarly, I mean… maybe not the exact same, there’s probably some differences, but, you know.”

“Right,” he agreed, simply happy that his current feelings towards you were not seen as anything odd, that it was mutual. 

“So… Do you have to go back to your room immediately?” Silver asked, “I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to drink or eat again today.”

VIII. SEBEK tries to give love advice

“Silver, why are you in my room?!” 

That was the first question Sebek had asked Silver. The second was,

“Why are you asking me? Go ask Master Lilia!”

Normally Sebek would try to answer any question thrown at him, mostly because he found himself knowledgeable enough to at least be able to answer anything academic, but Silver’s questions were so far removed from the academic curriculum. It wasn’t even training or physical fitness related!

Books and (unsolicited) advice from his parents (and Silver’s father) aside, he’s NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP! NEVER BEEN, NO PLANS TO BE FOR A LONG TIME (note: while in Night Raven College), so just why did Silver think HE was the person to go for things like this!

He only put up with it because you’re a friend! What’s Silver’s excuse?

“But the two of you are best friends? So it would be better to ask you for advice, right?”

… Okay, maybe Silver had him there.

“Okay, FINE!” Sebek sighed, pulling out a chair—for himself, of course. The intruder could stand there all he wanted. “What’s the issue now?”

Seriously! It’s been, what, a month or two of the both of you talking normally (meaning without his help) and hanging out (again, finally without him trailing after to make sure neither one of you messed up somehow, or checking up on you every so often through text to make sure Silver hasn’t said anything to break your heart or whatever), but somehow neither one of you have made a move! What is going on?!

Again, he was too busy with academics and it’d be nice if everyone followed suit with that mentality, but if the feelings are already there? Might as well act on it! As long as Silver didn’t slack off in training, as long as you wouldn’t be too distracted with love to focus on your classes, wasn’t it alright?

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but I think I… no, I’m sure that I like…” Silver paused, as if rethinking his decision to tell Sebek after all. Honestly, Sebek already anticipated the question, so he really didn’t need to continue. Still, he admired his lack of cowardice and ability to actually speak your name.

“As you should,” he replied instantly, thanking the Great Seven that progress was finally being made! “I would be surprised if you didn’t.”

“Sebek, just to clarify, I don’t mean it in a purely platonic manner.”

If he was talking to you, he probably would find a more delicate, but still very much genuinely him way to word his upcoming statement. It’s Silver, though, so he speaks his truth unabashedly.

“Silver, I KNOW!” Sebek huffed, with neither the grace nor sensitivity he believed people typically wanted in situations like these. “Imagine! Someone tells you they think your friend’s laughter reminds them of the chirping of birds, that their smile is like the coming of springtime. Do you think me incapable of connecting the dots, Silver?”

Really, he was getting used to hearing the compliments from you, but hearing them from Silver made him want to grab one of the horses from the stable and simply get as far away as possible. It reminded him of his parents and their sickly sweet words to each other, except this was obviously worse because his parents were together, the both of you were not… yet!

“Hold on,” Silver said, and Sebek doesn’t get why he wouldn’t just spit it out already. Hold on to what? His patience? He was trying because you deserved a good confession straight from the source and not from a third party (otherwise known as him)!

“If you know, and you’ve known for a while now, then–”

“No, of course not! Do you think I possess the audacity to tell on you?” he huffed, honestly taking offense at the implication. Sure, he’s told on Silver here and there, and maybe a few other times once or twice because he deserved it, but CERTAINLY not with something as important as feelings!

“If anything, I’m upset that you’ve told me first! Should you not be acting on your feelings instead?”

“I came here to ask for advice, remember?”

Sebek frowned. Why do humans have to make things complicated?

“You don’t need advice! Just don’t break my friend’s heart and don’t confess half-heartedly! Is that not simple?”

Silver looked stunned by something for once, which honestly? Good! At least that meant the information was being absorbed into that brain of his.

“Huh. That might actually be decent advice, coming from you.”

Déjà vu aside, he huffed in reply.

“Don’t be surprised, of course I can give decent advice,” he said, “even if I don’t want to give any. So don’t ask me again.” Just please get together already so I can sleep peacefully at night without having to worry about this for once! 

Silver only smiles and says thank you, as though he knew Sebek would not be able to stop himself from providing his assistance anyway if either you or him needed it.

IX. YOU and SILVER finally talk about that 

Unbeknownst to each other, the both of you have thought about being the one to confess first. It’s partially motivated by Sebek, who genuinely seems to be positive that nothing will go wrong and that it is merely nervousness keeping the both of you from reaching some storybook happily ever after. Realistically the both of you know that reality can often be different from expectations, but his optimism is quite infectious.

The other motivator is simply the both of you not being able to help yourselves from spilling out phrases of praise for the other, not merely to Sebek but to your fellow peers as well. 

And, well, the idea that even if the feelings were not returned, the receiving party would at least be gentle with the rejection.

Plans aside, neither of you actually thought today would be the day, but Sebek had excused himself early (something to do with his Young Master Malleus, who Silver knew wasn’t actually requesting for his presence at all) and it did not look like he was coming back anytime soon.

“He’s been doing that lately,” you said, as used to it as Silver is, “leaving the both of us together.”

“So you’ve noticed it as well,” he replied, though it would be surprising if you hadn’t, “that time at the library–”

“And that time in the greenhouse–”

“When we left campus as well to roam around town, then he simply left us to join some of the other first years.”

There were so many chances even when your mutual friend wasn’t making them out of his own volition, but none of those times seemed particularly right to say anything, moreso just a chance to spend more time with each other, a chance both of you were eager to take. 

Something about this afternoon—or evening, or the time in between the both of them—was different from all the afternoons you’ve spent together, though.

Maybe it was because of the sky—the explosion of pinks and purples and blues as the dusk began to settle, a sky that reminded you of Silver’s eyes, not necessarily in hue but in its salience, a call to attention. 

Maybe it was because it was a quiet, peaceful time—a fair weather that Silver found himself prone to falling asleep to, and yet he felt no sense of drowsiness or tiredness whatsoever, merely contentment to be seated next to you.

“You know, I asked Sebek once, a few months ago, if he thought I could ever become close to you,” you admitted, with just enough courage to stare him straight in the face. “I know I already said sorry, but sorry about all those times I ran away from you. You made me nervous sometimes.”

“I asked him about something similar before, too.” Sort of, although he was far more straightforward when it came to questioning him about you. He can admit now that he’s glad that the boy kept his lips sealed quite tightly, a certain delight in learning things about you through you yourself.

“Is there a reason to be nervous around me, though? I’m having a tough time envisioning anything I’ve done to warrant that…”

You laughed, a tinge of embarrassment slipping out—perhaps directed at your past, perhaps because of the present, or how your next choice of words could affect the future. 

“Because I liked you.”

It’s silent for a few moments, the loudest sounds being that of the rustling leaves and the critters of a nearby forest, but strangely enough it’s not as scary as you thought it would be. At the very least, that’s what you will keep telling yourself—your affections are a secret begging to be spilled.

“Even though I never talked to you that much, I just enjoyed seeing you go about your day out of the corner of my eye. I like the way you carry yourself—you’re so cool and laidback and devoted that I thought I would embarrass myself if I even spoke a word to you,” you said, shaking your head at the memories, “I used to think you were so perfect compared to me.”

“I’m not–”

“I realized that eventually,” you intercepted. As brave as you found yourself at this moment, you were scared that if you were not to say your peace immediately, the conversation could be derailed, or that you would lose the courage to confess completely. “I’m glad I did. I don’t think I would have gotten to spend time with you like this otherwise.”

“Then… I’m glad you did, too,” Silver said in agreement, “because I was in a similar situation.”

“You were?!”

“Somewhat. It’s more in the sense that… Do you remember when I told you I thought your presence was soothing?” He waited for a second, continuing when you nodded your head. “That wasn’t a lie, but it was also a bit of an understatement. 

“For the longest time I’ve always enjoyed your presence, and it came to a point where I wanted to be around you more often and to get to know you instead of just being at the same time and place as you,” Silver said, “I think we just had different approaches to our feelings.”

“That sounds about right,” you replied, finding some humor in the situation, “I guess it’s a good thing that we found our way to becoming friends somehow.”

“It was.”

Neither you nor Silver follow up on that right away. It’s not that it’s not possible to say what either one of you have been leading up to anymore, but more so figuring out how to lead up to it. Was there a particular way the other wanted to hear it, and how could they combine that with their own words and feelings?

“You said you liked me,” Silver said, giving pause as if to allow you some time to correct him, or to clarify that you meant one way and not the other. 

The idea of you liking him had never occurred to him.

Well, no, that wouldn’t be right—he’s thought of it before, but it was always attached with the plan of him having to take you out on a date or two first, or at the very least asking to be given a chance to win you over. 

Still, he can’t find it in himself to mourn that he had not realized sooner. There was always a proper timing to these things, and if now was the perfect moment to strike, to act on it, then so be it.

“Do you still like me?”

“...That’s not a very fair question,” you said. It’s a half-hearted complaint at best, more of a request on your behalf than anything, but Silver heeded it regardless.

“Sorry, you’re right,” he replied, “then let me be the one to tell you first.”

Silver takes a deep breath, shakes off any nerves that could still be on him, and, for as much as you would allow, looks you straight in the eye as he conveys his confession.

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now, I hope it’s okay with you that I feel this way,” he says. He’s as serious as ever, but he says it in such a gentle, tender manner that the already tranquil mood lightens even further. 

Subconsciously, the both of you realize it then—if there were any odds against him, against you, none of them existed now. There could only be a happy ending written for the both of you.

“Being around you calms me, and yet I find myself staying awake for as long as possible just so I can listen to you. Even when I end up falling asleep I know I can trust you to wake me up, and when I do wake up, I find myself more rejuvenated than usual because your face is the first thing I see.

“I thank you for always gracing me with your presence, but all the same I want something more with you,” Silver trails off after, letting out a small huff of laughter as a sheepish grin settles on his face. “Is that too forward? I’ve been told that I could be quite…”

“Not at all.”

The tips of your fingers tap against his knuckles before enveloping his clenched fist with your hand. Any vulnerabilities, words and feelings never spoken until today, will be held carefully by you—and when he relaxes his body, his palm glides against yours, and he promises that he will carry your affections just as gently as you do his own.

X. SEBEK receives his well-deserved peace, somewhat (OUTTAKE)

Sebek was well-aware of his role in your relationship, so he was not the least bit surprised that you and Silver would (separately, and then once more together) not only make sure he was the first to find out, but to thank him for his services as well.

He alternated between rolling his eyes and pretending his help was no big deal and demanding that he be recognized for his efforts, all before eventually not being able to help himself from bursting into a grin and congratulating the both of you.

Mostly you, but he wasn’t sure he was able to hide his approval properly from Silver.

Sebek was genuinely happy for the both of you, of course, but he would not deny that a part of his delight stemmed from no longer having to be on the receiving end of whatever will-they-won’t-they trope the both of you were applying. Even when he wasn’t losing his mind listening to the both of you, he was losing it by watching the both of you interact (at a distance. What was he, a stalker? He had more important things to do than pay attention to a budding romance!)

For the most part, peace was achieved. You still invited him out frequently, sometimes with Silver and sometimes without, and nothing really changed between him and Silver either other than having another mutual person to protect.

What Sebek did not anticipate was to be on the receiving end of questions from the two he respected the most—one who was upset to be told of the recent developments later than he would have wanted, and another who was ready to pry any details his foster son neglected to tell him.

This was Silver’s fault, so why was he on the receiving end of the complaints all of a sudden?! Was this what he got for keeping his mouth shut?!

“Silver…!”

His rival better prepare—even if he was your significant other, he won’t be exempt from his wrath tomorrow morning.

end notes | masterlist of all my works

[1] The initial idea for the fic was pure humor and fluff with a bunch of clichés and Silver being jealous of protective BFF Sebek and reader. I kept the Sebek BFF dynamic because I love him, though his protectiveness is actually toned down to something more "I have my eye on you but you're free to get to know my friend just treat them well" than pure "Silver you are on my DNI list".

[2] I also mostly discarded the jealous Silver idea. Silver is less "I'm jealous that Sebek is your s/o even though he actually isn't" (made sure to have Sebek clarify it right away) and more "I'm jealous that he was able to form this genuine connection with you, and that other people can be in your presence. I want to be one of the people in your circle too." I don't mind the first type of jealousy, I think it's cute when played for laughs + good drama if executed well, but it's not what I was going for.

[3] I also tried to get the idea across immediately that Sebek does not have romantic feelings for the reader. I didn't want to use that trope. I don't want him to be sad. In the platonic sense, he loves reader and Silver (would rather die than admit it), so he's in this spot where he thinks it's "ew gross" but also "you're both good people so you should both be happy and i want to be supportive but why are both of you taking so long why are u stupid oh seven let this go well i will scream if this doesn't"

[4] Chemistry is one of the subjects I was weaker in back in high school so excuse my bare minimum research but Sebek feels like the type to go "MY CORTISOL CIRCULATION IS IN HIGH LEVELS RIGHT NOW DO NOT APPROACH OR I WILL YELL AT YOU" instead of "wow im fucking stressed!" like any other normie would lol

[5] Another thing I was a bit delicate with is Sebek's pushing, and that while he has his frustrations he doesn't completely diminish reader's insecurities or difficulty in talking with Silver specifically. I imagine that it happened in the past, but he's probably working to be more understanding of others, reader in particular bc friendship and favoritism lol.

[6] I was really stuck on what I think Silver would appreciate the most in a person and how he would fall in love with them. Of course all dynamics are fun and I want to use different personalities and types of readers in the future, but for this one I decided to have reader remind Silver of the pleasant and peaceful things in life. I liked the idea that they've both admired each other from a far, like a "this person really heals me…" but while Silver wants to get closer and tries to act on it, Reader instinctively wants to run away bc they like him so much. The pure romance trope, basically.

[7] I decided to not explore the whole "falling in love" process, like dates and stuff, mostly to allow the reader some flexibility in imagining what activities or conversations or whatnot Silver and reader have had. Compared to my other fics, that's not really the purpose of this one.

[kiwiana-writes]

I dont think anyone subscribes to you for t rated 5 +1s in your own au lol. Chop chop with those wip’s porn girl!

Well. Quite a bit to unpack here on an otherwise unassuming Friday!

#1:

#2: I actually track this stuff. Admittedly the E-rated percentage is a bit higher if you look at RWRB only, but overall...

#3: I think anyone who subscribes to me on AO3, or indeed anyone who follows the kiwiana-writes tag here on tumblr and sees all those fucking WIPs, knows that I like to write a bit of variety. That's not to say there aren't definite underpinnings of, like, themes and vibes that I return to over and over (which I can only assume are why people subscribe to me), but if someone only likes my college AUs, or only likes my post-canon stuff, or only likes my E-rated stuff, or only wants to listen to my podfics, they're probably going to have a much more successful time saving the tag search than subscribing to me at the author level. Or they've mastered the art of archiving and moving on without complaining about it, like I do when the authors I'm subscribed to write something that doesn't interest me. It's a useful skill! I highly recommend cultivating it.

#4: AO3 not giving series stats is and continues to be the bane of my life, but based on the number of people who subscribed to the OG actor AU, there's probably a significant chunk of people who aren't subscribed to me as an author and only want the actor AU verse stuff. And good for them! I LOVE that AO3 offers multiple ways to subscribe so you can get notified for the stuff you want (my kingdom for the ability to subscribe to individual pseuds, though.)

#5: This fandom is OVERFLOWING right now. Like, I can't keep up. You only want to read E-rated stuff? Awesome! Well over 100 E-rated fics have been posted in the RWRB bookverse tag just this week (it looks like most of the movieverse smut has also been tagged bookverse, but either way it's also very easy to find). Or go back to older fics and find some hidden gems—there's nothing an author loves more than for someone to come in and gush about a fic they wrote a year or two ago.

#6: You don't pay me, and I'm not subject to annual review. One of my favourite authors was talking this morning about how sometimes she thinks about taking a break from writing for RWRB because it's starting to feel a little rat racey, and that would suck for me personally because I love her stuff but god knows I couldn't blame her, because the (extreme minority but still exhausting) entitled comments and rudeness really do not help. Stop treating your favourite authors like content creators who owe you something new on a regular schedule, because that's a damn good way to ensure they don't want to create anything new ever again. Like... anon, you haven't even bothered to couch this in a compliment. The bar is ten feet underground and somehow you still managed to trip over it.

#7: Not to be all 'back in my day' but... well, back in my day, snippets and peeks into the universe of a remotely popular longfic were pretty much the standard lol. Nobody is forcing you to read them, I promise.

#8: I've posted two E-rated fics in the last two weeks.

#9: Honestly I just really want to reiterate #1 because what the hell lol. While pronouns don't equal gender, it's pretty reasonable to extrapolate from pronouns if you don't have any other info to go on—and of the three "main/standard" pronouns, the one most closely associated with 'girl' is the only one that ISN'T in my bio 🤦

[gabessquishytum]

Hello Again Friend,

I wanted to thank you for your kind response to my last submission - it has given me the encouragement to actually start this outrageously large fic that I have going on in my head. We shall see if at least part of it will be ready for AO3 by the end of the year😅

I have been considering sending you a snippet I was working on but it’s not nearly as flushed out as the first scenario (emotional Dream kneeling fic idea, just to confirm) I submitted to you. (read: I haven’t had a 2am anxiety-induced writing frenzy over it lol). But seeing your reblog of deviantly-inspired’s post made me feel like I could share it with you no matter how unfinished. The concept in my mind is similar and is also inspired by multiple fandom headcanons/fic readings so here goes nothing~

*****

Before Dream begs Hob not to love him, before he kneels at the power Hob’s love has over him, and even before he allowed their relationship to slip unacknowledged past “just friends” into “what are we?,” territory, Dream had ignored his growing feelings for Hob. They had been friends seeing each other quite regularly for the better part of a year when Hob invited him upstairs to get away from the rambunctious new college graduates swarming the inn. Dream blamed their drunkenly hopeful and untamed dreams for the excitement he felt at following Hob to his private quarters. Of course, it was just a friendly invite considering Dream’s dislike for crowds and it was just a regular apartment for all intents and purposes. Except that it wasn’t. It was Hob’s apartment filled with Hob’s things and it was cozy and welcoming just like The New Inn. So how could Dream resist when Hob suggested they move future meetings there. “For the convenience, ya know? Less bothering the staff and saving money eating out ya know?” Hob is only rational so why disagree. “Not that you ever were an expensive date, ha! Seeing as I don’t think you ever ate at one of our meetings when I think about it. Hmm, do you even eat?”

Dream meets his eyes from where he sits across the couch: “If you mean do I need to consume sustenance for energy than no I don’t need to eat. But I usually abstain because like all things I consume I can sense the dreams of their creators which is unsatisfying in most cases.”

Hob’s eyes widen, “Unsatisfying because the dreams are bad or…?”

“Some. Often, the wishes are for riches or fame in cooking and sometimes they are dreams of being delicious or fulfilling which I find gratifying. But usually they are simply wishes to go home and rest which I believe you could see my hesitance for eating them in your company.” Dream smiles that tiny one-sided smile of his and Hob brightens up because he has a new goal based on what Dream said. He’s going to cook him a meal to enjoy just for him.

*Spongebob meme voice: Three Weeks Later”

Dream smells everything before he even knocks on the door of Hob’s flat. Hob has a bright smile despite the sweat on his face and he bows mockingly to say: “Your highness, dinner is served.”

Dream arches an eyebrow ready to decline the invite but even he knows it would be rude to deny as a guest. Especially when he can see Hob put a substantial amount of effort into the steaming pot he is currently scooping from. The drone of the oven fan fills the silent camaraderie of the moment as Dream sits at the small table set with two spoons and two glasses of wine. ‘How intimate,’ he thinks and is glad his embarrassed flush is covered up by Hob placing a gently steaming bowl in front of him and sitting across the table. “It’s just some beef stew but I hope you’ll like it. And it’s a totally odd companion dessert but I made some chocolate chip cookies to go with it. I’m just preheating the oven now.” Hob gives Dream a blindingly kind smile before he starts to eat and launches into a story about his Tuesday class.

The lack of pressure to eat or even talk is one of the things Dream appreciates about his friend. But to return this kindness he chooses to at least politely take a few bites before outright denying the cookies. On sight the stew is nothing more than dark gravy with hefty chunks of tender beef, soft carrots, fluffy potatoes, and translucent onions. A good hearty stew to be sure but nothing crazy for the palette and definitely not anything worth writing home about.

Dream scoops a single spoonful into his mouth and freezes. His natural stillness allows the moment to go unnoticed by Hob but the entire collective unconsciousness comes to a halt. The simple stew resonates with a multitude of wishes that coalesce into one overarching dream. The single most important dream of its creator imbued into every molecule and Dream can more than taste it. Run his human tongue over it, crush it between his teeth, and swallow it into the empty cavern of hunger too large for this human form to possess. The oven beeps so Hob excuses himself to quickly shape some cookies and get them into the oven. In the meantime, Dream is allowed to continue being overwhelmed in private.

He stares at where his spoon disappears into the comforting brown stew until his vision starts to blur. Tears are starting to well up in his eyes and though he has not been breathing this entire time his hands begin to shake. Shake with want, he wants to eat the entire bowl stew and all. The dream buried within that bowl begins to call to him and the intense fervor with which he wants to consume it all almost scares him. He wants to grab the still simmering cast iron pot and absorb it’s entirety into his being. Is it rude to eat Hob’s remainder? Could he lick the remaining flavor from within Hob’s lips so that he may always know it’s flavors? Is it too much to feel this way for a friend’s kindness? Is it too much for him to beg Hob for more sustenance? Is it too much to admit to Hob he is starving and only this will nourish him? What taste will his longing tears add to the broth? What more would Hob give him when he had nothing to offer in return?

The oven door shuts and suddenly the thought of an even sweeter food causes Dream to take in a lungful of air in fear. It would be too much to bear. It would be too much because he is too much.

“Are you okay, Dream? You look a little shaken.” Shaken? Yes, he is shaken to his core. The stinging tears threaten to fall but Dream blinks them back with immeasureable control because he cannot lose control. Not here.

“It is of no matter. My apologies for your efforts but I do not believe I could partake in your dessert. Thank you however, for the stew.” Dream carefully says only the truth. He does not say that it was ambrosia and the only reason he does not gorge himself on it is fear that there will be no more left. That’s not true, he fears acknowledging it would mean no more would come. Better to take this single bite now and have many singular bites in meetings to follow than to choke it all down now and never be able to feast again. He returns the spoon carefully to where it was initially set and puts his hands into his lap to hide their trembling.

“Of course, it’s totally fine, Dream! I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want. Besides, I’ll eat all of this myself eventually,” Hob smiles and tries not to let it be strained. He had hoped pouring all of his emotions into this meal would show Dream that he wanted to have more than just friendship with him but he must have misunderstood. It’s just plain soup after all and the cookies are the Tollhouse recipe so what was he expecting? A dramatic and mutual love confession? Was he thinking Dream would fall to his knees and rejoice in Hob’s regard? No! Of course, he would only stare at the soup with his starry eyes and take a singular bite before denying more. Maybe eating was painful and that’s why he had a pained expression on his face. Maybe Dream did know what feelings Hob put into the stew and was kindly ignoring them to allow Hob to save face and for that he was grateful. For that, he could continue their friendship without shame and choke down his soup and two cookies while still trying to play that he wasn’t bothered. He knew once Dream left the food would be thrown away.

Dream waited patiently for Hob to finish his stew and eat his warm cookies a little too soon after pulling them from the oven. Hob barely avoided choking on the burning dough through a series of undignified swearing about the temperature and blowing puffs of hot air from his open mouth. If Dream weren’t so caught up in his mind he would have done more than laugh his braying laugh. When Hob finishes they retire back to the perfectly worn out couch and Dream takes a last glimpse at the pot on the stove.

In that pot was a stew filled with unfathomable care and gentle regard for Dream. Every morsel flavored with warm feelings of positivity and each piece a wish for nourishment. The time taken imbued every spoonful with a wish for happiness. The mixture of textures and wishes gave the stew a singular flavor, a singular dream that Dream could not ignore. The stew, because its creator created it so, dreamed of comfort for Dream. A dream so beautiful and heartfelt it filled him with tears to be so cared for. It would be torture then to taste the cookies and know he could never have Hob. To know that he should not have Hob.

They said their goodnights and Hob packed away the stew because he couldn’t really bear to waste a perfectly good few meals. He did however, throw away the remaining cookie dough because it felt wrong to eat them or give them away when he made it for Dream. When he imagined Dream’s laugh with every scoop of flour, when he imagined the stars in Dream’s dark eyes for every grain of salt, the baking soda his smirk, the egg yolks his sunny small smiles, the white sugar his pale human skin, the brown sugar his dark unruly hair, the vanilla extract his unique scent, when every stir was a loving caress he longed to give and with every chocolate chip a sweet kiss. He would throw this declaration of love away if only to keep their friendship.

Dream returned to the Dreaming in a sweep of sand and he was glad to be away from Hob. From his flat’s intoxicating warmth and his easy smiles if only so he could think. He had to stop this from going further. He could not love Hob. It would ruin him. He would not let himself do that to his dearest friend…his only friend. He would not love Hob and it would be okay. Because they could be friends! Because it would be enough.

It will be okay because Hob does not love him.

****

You know, I am so sorry for coming to you a second time and just dropping my long ass scenarios on you lol. I just can’t get the imagine of Hob making Dream something yummy and it being so full of care that it makes Dream well up with tears. He has never been loved so quietly before, so patiently, so unobtrusively and I just want that for him. Hopefully, this will get worked into the same fic and hopefully one day we’ll all be able to read it lol. Once again, my apologies for dropping this on you but I hope you have a good day!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️

Sincerely,

🧶Anon

Oh beloved 🧶 anon!!! I'm so glad to hear that you felt encouraged by my last response, I'm absolutely thrilled and so excited by the prospect of reading what you create! Even if it takes some time, I promise that the effort will be worth it.

I'm absolutely obsessed with what you've done with Dream and food and love here. It's so beautiful and it's one of my favourite things to think about. How does Dream interpret love, as an Endless being with access to the entire collective unconsciousness of humanity? He seems very much to feel emotions in the same way that we do - perhaps even in a more heightened way. I'm so interested in the way a home cooked meal imbued with all of Hob’s thoughts and good intentions and love would make him feel. How overwhelming would it be to have those things directed at him specifically for once? Hob’s love is not overwhelming, in itself. It's an ember that's burned softly for many years, and nothing can put it out. But even though it is so gentle, Dream just can't... hold it. Not without coming apart.

And Hob, oh bless him. I'm totally in the "food is Hob’s love language" camp. I'm so emotional about the idea of him sadly throwing out the cookie dough, respectful of Dream’s wishes but still feeling a little bruised that his love doesn't seem to be enough. I think that he won't stop trying, though. That little ember isn't going anywhere.

So, once again: thank you for sharing this. You are wonderful and you're going to make a wonderful fic. I hope you have a great day, my friend!

[up-in-space-reading]

The End of the World and Everything After

pairing: Matt x F Reader

word count: 6,345

warnings/tags: angst, grief, hurt, fluff, comfort, established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, swearing, domestic fluff, dad!Matt, the blip/the snap, mentions of alcohol, allusions to sex (nothing graphic). no use of y/n.

read on ao3

masterlist

Story Summary: Half of the universe is turned into dust because of Thanos. You and Matt were left behind to pick up the pieces of yourselves and try to learn how to live without the most important people in your lives.

a/n: This fic was born from me babysitting, listening to 90s top hits for two weeks straight, and way too many conversations with my partner about what our fave characters did during the blip. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy <3

The whole world stopped that day. The entire universe stood still. It was unbelievably quiet everywhere, a silence settling down on the surface that wouldn’t lift anytime soon.

On an average Tuesday afternoon, half of the earth disappeared in minutes. Leaving behind the other half to cope with the losses and clean up the mess left behind.

No one was sure what the Avengers did or didn’t do, all everyone knew was that five minutes after someone had snapped their fingers half of their loved ones were no longer around.

Not dead, just dust.

Matt had taken losing Karen and Foggy hard. He spent months taking out his anger on anything he could hit and kick. Bruised and bloody fists a harsh reminder that he is alive, and they aren’t. The streets and the punching bag in the gym got hit with his rage, and you got hit with his sadness. There was no denying you felt it too, you were just as much of a mess you just didn’t have the physical outlet he did.

He started training you in the old dusty ring at Fogwells a few months after, hitting the bag and sparring until neither of you could handle it anymore and the tears began falling again, collapsing into each other’s arms for a while. You’d then walk home, arm in arm on the quiet streets of the Kitchen, Matt would listen to the people left and you’d stare at the empty buildings.

It was a similar routine for a year but getting easier to handle with every passing week. A smile here and there when you would land a punch, a giggle when he’d grab you around the waist in just the right spot to tickle you.

Slowly, you were getting yourselves back. Not your old selves, but a new version, versions that lived with the pain and held onto the small glimpses of hope. Versions of yourselves that settled into a calm and quiet routine. You got to a place where you could talk about them with a bittersweet tone instead of not being able to speak through the tears. And in the strangest turn of events, connections were made.

It was Jessica who had reached out first. You had been so surprised you read the text on Matt’s phone yourself multiple times. Her and Luke had figured things out, they even had a kid a few months before the blip. But they were getting lonely, and once Luke has realised who was left he figured you and Matt were getting lonely too.

Halfway through that first year you quit your job, began working with Matt in the office doing the admin and office managerial tasks. He didn’t have many clients, but people were still having issues during this time. At some point everyone decided the world had to keep turning, people needed money to stay in their homes or downsize and businesses still needed to run. The city kept going, it just felt smaller and emptier now.

You packed away Karen and Foggy’s things, in storage boxes. Matt asked why you didn’t get rid of them completely and you didn’t have an answer, maybe a small part of you hoped they’d come back one day. Maybe you just didn’t have the heart to get rid of it all yet. The door to Foggy’s office staying almost permanently shut, windows dark.

So, you sat at the desk in the main foyer of the office, answering emails and doing any research Matt needed done. Matt went over files and case notes in his office, listening to you hum along to the music playing quietly through a speaker in the corner of the room. It was a little over a year since it had happened.

It was a warm day, sunlight pouring through the dirty office windows making the space look happier than it ought to be. You were busy typing an email response to organise an appointment with a client when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in” You said loud enough so the person could hear, not looking up from your computer screen.

Luke opened the door with one hand, holding Dani and a bag of food in the other. Dani had her arms wrapped around as much of Luke’s neck as she could reach and was babbling in her fathers ear while he hummed in response.

“Hi Luke, hi Dani” You smiled wide at the two of them.

You were always happy to see Dani, convinced she was one of the cutest kids you’d ever seen. Looks like her fathers and a temper like her mothers (only if you didn’t give in to her ice cream demands).

“Hey, how you guys doing? We bought you both some lunch if you haven’t already had some” He took the bag of food in his free hand and held it up for emphasis.

“No, we haven’t eaten yet, thank you so much.” You stomach grumbling as you stood up and accepted the bag happily, peering at the contents inside “Can’t believe the mayor of New York is doing a lunch run while also looking after his little one”

At the mention of Dani you look at her and scrunch up your nose and smile, she smiled in return before quickly hiding her face in Luke’s shoulder. Luke laughed.

“If I’m behind that desk for too long I’ll lose my mind, besides, needed to ask Matt a few things and figured it was a good excuse to get out”

You laughed in response, it was a new feeling, laughing at things regularly and feeling a semblance of normal. It was something none of you had been used to in a long while, but it did feel good, you almost felt relieved that the worst was over even though the worst was technically still ongoing.

“If there’s enough here for all of us I’ll get a table and some chairs set up so we can eat together, you go chat with Matt, Dani and I will hang out for a bit”

Luke passed Dani over to you before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and going into Matt’s office. You went about dragging out the fold out table and chairs from the unused conference room, Dani in one arm and dragging furniture with the other. Eventually you put her down on the floor next to the small basket of toys you’d acquired for her so you could finish setting up the table and chairs and place the food out on the table.

Once done, you knocked on the door of Matt’s office and poked your head in telling the two boys that food was ready. The four of you sat down around the small square table, Dani on Luke’s lap trying her absolute hardest to stab things with a chopstick.

You small talk about your days and what everyone has been up to recently, its mostly the same as usual and at some point Matt and Luke continue talking shop so you start entertaining Dani with funny faces and peek-a-boo.

It was a nice day, you finished work an hour before Matt and were able to cook something nice for dinner by the time he got home.

Later that night you and Matt were sat on the couch, both reading a book quietly. He had decided to not go on patrol that night, it had made you wonder at first, but you weren’t going to complain at the chance for quality time. The two of you were sat on the couch, you were leaning against the arm rest with your legs stretched out on Matt’s lap, his feet were resting on the coffee table and you’d both been wearing your pyjamas since arriving home after work. A record playing on the turntable in the corner of the room, Matt had picked tonight.

At a point in the evening when the sun was down and the moon making its home in the sky for the night Matt put his book down on the side table, running his hands up and down your shins. After a few minutes and once you’d finished your page you closed your book and put it down, looking up at him to see he was already facing you, a lazy smile on his face.

“What’s up, handsome?” You teased reaching one of your hands down, meeting one of his at your knee.

“Nothing much, beautiful” He teased back.

You sit in silence for a few moments, taking in all his features and how they seem to have aged so much just in the past year and you assumed you looked the same. But he was still beautiful, pensive and unfocused brown eyes staring while his other senses take in everything. The stubble lingering on his jaw that you had always preferred over him being clean shaven.

“You’re staring” He pulled you out of your thoughts.

“If you could see your reflection then you’d understand why” You giggled.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked tentatively.

“Of course”

You leaned your head sideways to rest on the back of the couch, still looking at him as he seemed hesitant with his question. Had this been six months ago your mind would have run wild with possibilities, anxiety having already decided the worst outcome was definitely going to happen. But this time, your instincts weren’t screaming and your mind was clear, it should’ve scared you but instead your heart stayed steady. The worst had already happened, anything since couldn’t compare.

“I love you, so much. The past year has been…” He looks away, blinking hard a few times before turning to face you again “probably one of the worst ever, we were- are dealing with something so unprecedented. But we’ve made it this far and it has me convinced we’ll make it through anything” You both let out a short laugh.

“I feel like I’m getting off track, sorry” He laughed nervously this time, at this point you could see he was fiddling with something in his pocket with his free hand.

“That’s okay, keep going” You smiled and squeezed his hand, trying to calm your heartbeat as your mind jumped to conclusions hoping against everything they were the right ones.

“Anyway, if it weren’t for you I don’t know what I would’ve done or where I would be now. You’re the most amazing, kind, funny and caring person I’ve ever met.” Tears were welling up in his eyes, matching the ones that had been brimming in yours threatening to spill “I-I can’t live without you, so would you marry me?”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding a silver ring. It was beautiful, two small bands winding around one other creating an infinite spiral, decorated with small diamonds embedded in the bands. It was the perfect ring for you, he knew you weren’t a fan of big jewellery and a big diamond wouldn’t match your style.

“Oh my god Matt… yes I will, of course I will” The tears had now begun to fall now and there was no way you were going to be able to stop them.

He held your shaking left hand steady as he slid the ring on your finger, and you looked at it for a few moments before sliding closer to Matt to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. He returned the favour, hands going to your waist to hold you close and steady. When you pulled back for air you could see he was also crying.

After a few moments of catching your breath, you spoke up again.

“What about K-“

“I know, I thought about it. They would hate that we stopped living just because they’re gone, and if we get to see them again one day I want to be able to tell them the things we’ve done together”

“Okay, if you’re sure” You put your forehead against his.

“Sure as I’ve been about anything”

The two of you chose a date a few weeks later to go to the courthouse and make it official, with Luke, Jess, and Dani in tow. You and Jess went out to get a dress, she insisted she was only there to tell you which ones were ugly so you’d know what to avoid. The dress you chose was simple, not a wedding dress by definition but it was white and it suited you. Jess had even said you looked nice in it, which coming from her she may as well have called you Aphrodite.

You filled out and signed papers, quickly kissed, and by that evening the five of you were sitting in yours and Matt’s apartment a few drinks in laughing over nothing. Music from the turntable and Dani’s babbling as she played on the floor creating background noise, and for the first time in a long time the city doesn’t feel too big or too quiet.

It was a perfect night to end a perfect day.

Throwing up into the toilet isn’t how you had anticipated you’d start your Saturday morning, Matt still in pyjama pants and no shirt holding your hair back as your body convulsed. He rubbed your back soothingly until you’d finished, and once you were sure you were done, he held you on the bathroom floor as you caught your breath.

A year and a half since half the universe disappeared, a few months since you and Matt had gotten married.

“Oh god” You gasped, looking at the results of the test later that day.

“Well..” Matt trailed off.

You were both processing the results in silence for a little while, you weren’t sure if it were seconds or hours that passed.

“Quarters” Matt whispered.

At first it confused you until you racked your brain, did some rough maths and suddenly it made sense.

“Quarters” You whispered back in shock.

“This should be incredibly unfair to you but I actually think it’s the opposite and incredibly unfair to me” You giggled while pouring a shot of whiskey into the cup in the middle of the table.

“Mrs Murdock attacks her husband once again, will the torment ever end” Matt pretended to fret to someone else who wasn’t in the room before laughing.

“Mr Murdock is going the right way to sleeping on the couch if he continues to pretend he will be bad at this game”

Matt walked to the dining table, carrying freshly washed quarters in a towel, drying them as he walked. He had insisted on washing the coins before playing, they smelled so strong he could taste them and it made him feel ill.

“I’m going to cheat” You said matter of factly.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t marry you because you’re a fair player” You both laughed hard.

You had begun playing games every so often, going out drinking less meant you and Matt had time to fill and you were determined to not have him fill the time with Daredevil. An argument six months after the blip which left you both emotionally raw had already gone over that issue. He was doing worlds better now, not relying on Daredevil as much to cope and you were proud.

When Matt was satisfied that the coins were as clean as he could get them and dry enough, the game commenced. You immediately regretted it, wishing you had chosen a card game instead. He was landing every single one, you were lucky to get one in four. After a little while you stood up to get some water and wobbled on your feet, deciding that you had to stack the odds in your favour somehow so you wouldn’t get blackout while Matt stayed lightly buzzed.

“Need help getting to the fridge?” He teased, leaning back in his chair.

“I am perfectly fine walking a few steps to the fridge” You insisted, but you were definitely trying harder than usual to take balanced and even steps.

Once you had acquired a bottle of water, you returned to the table and picked up a coin for your next shot. Unsurprisingly you miss the glass, but before Matt can pick up a coin of his own you take one off the table as quick as possible and take another shot. This one makes it into the glass and you throw your arms up in victory while Matt throws his head back laughing.

“Drink up Matthew!” You cheered.

From that point on Matt let you keep trying until you got the coin in the glass before taking his turn. At some point in the evening when your cheeks were hurting from laughter and your mouth was sticky with the taste of alcohol you called it a night, advising Matt that you two had shared enough of the bottle for a single evening.

You stumbled through the living room and into the bedroom together, feeling grateful that you from a few hours ago decided to put her pyjamas on before starting the game. You were warm and happy all over, but it wasn’t until Matt took his shirt off that your heart began to race and heat spread through your body.

“Hmm”

The noise had accidentally slipped from your lips, you hadn’t meant for it to come out but it was too late, Matt had already heard it and was taking in the rest of your body’s reaction.

“Oh” He responded quietly while smirking.

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” You asked nervously from the other end of the couch.

“Sure as I’ve been about anything, only if you’re sure too” He placed a hand on your knee.

“Yeah, I’m sure”

You let out a deep breath, taking it all in and already thinking ahead. A feeling settled in your chest, a mix of excitement and anxiety. You both had a daunting future ahead of you but you were sure it would be worth it, and there was no one you’d rather do it with than Matt.

Luke was elated for the both of you, and Jess pretended to not be as happy also but had a hard time hiding it, a rare smile gracing her face for just a moment when you had told them the news. You often texted Jess with a million different questions and whilst reluctant to answer she still helped more than you’d ever be able to thank her for. When you found out the gender Luke brought over a few bags of Dani’s old stuff that she had grown out of and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Your daughter is fuckin’ huge, can you help me with my shoes please” You yelled across the apartment to Matt.

“As soon as she’s an issue it’s my daughter, huh?” He teased as he walked over to where you were on the couch, his tie still undone.

Matt knelt on the floor in front of you and helped with putting your socks and shoes on, you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for a while now so he was used to it and he never minded helping in any way he could. You were the one doing the hard work after all, who was he to complain about having to help with a pair of shoes every now and then.

Once he was done with your shoes he placed a kiss onto your belly and then your forehead. He finished doing up his tie and you both headed out to work for the day. It was a brisk morning as you walked to the office, arm in arm as per usual. You had to stop once to catch your breath and Matt sat with you on the bench, hand on your knee in comfortable silence.

After you had gotten to the office and up until lunch you had felt minor pains but nothing to be concerned about. It wasn’t until about 2pm that they got worse and you grew worried, but you still hadn’t caught Matt’s attention until a bad one hit you suddenly causing you to hiss through your teeth and clench your fists.

He got up from his desk and rushed to the doorway of his office.

“Are you okay?” He asked concerned.

“Uh-“ You thought about it for a few moments “Not really”

You knew Matt would be annoyed if you downplayed how you felt, he had been all over since you found out you were pregnant making sure you weren’t having any pains that were out of place and making you be almost too careful. Fortunately, you’d read about these pains, and you now had the task of quickly mentally preparing yourself for the coming hours.

“I’ll call Luke” Matt was ready for action immediately, pulling out his phone and finding Luke’s contact immediately.

Taxis were harder to come by after the blip and it was a jarring change for New York. The only person you and Matt knew who did drive was Luke, so he was always the go to if you needed a ride for a bit of a distance; and he had offered to call him anytime for the baby. Luke was outside the office not 10 minutes later ready to take the two of you to the hospital.

Matt would do anything for her, he had decided that the moment he got to hold her for the first time. She was his everything, two people in the world he would do anything for.

While you were sleeping that night, exhausted after all the effort that afternoon, he held her in his arms. Sat on the uncomfortable hospital couch he felt her warmth against his chest and listened to her tiny heartbeat. She was perfect, and he cried as he stroked her soft cheek with his finger.

His girls were everything to him. Two years ago his world collapsed and he thought he could never be happy again, he’d never be lucky enough to laugh or smile. But despite the many difficulties the day offered, he was content.

If he ever got to see Foggy and Karen again, he couldn’t wait to tell them everything.

You told him she was still mostly bald but there were whisps of dark hair covering her head, you joked she wasn’t done cooking enough to tell who she looked more like yet. Luke drove the three of you home two days later, not lingering too long so you could get settled.

Sleepless nights were tough on both of you, Matt didn’t get enough sleep as it was and now with a crying baby it was worse. But eventually you figured out a routine, and after two months of stumbling and sleepless nights the two of you found a way.

Saturday afternoon and you were finally getting around to doing the laundry you’d been putting off for two weeks, Mia propped up by some pillows at the head of your bed and unfolded clothes covering the foot of the bed. She was holding a toy in her hand that she would occasionally decide to chew on or wave around while music played in the background.

“Your father hates when I sing this one, rolls his eyes and everything, can you believe him?” You told Mia as you swayed your hips to the music while folding t-shirts.

She made a quiet cooing noise and you couldn’t help but smile. A few minutes passes of you humming and Mia watching you, content in between feeds and naps.

“Oh my god yes! Mia baby this is important stuff I expect you to remember this one” You said as the next song begun, one of your personal favourites.

The swaying hips very soon escalated into dancing around the bedroom as you folded clothes, Mia smiling at your antics only encouraging you further. You were getting lost in the music, and though you didn’t know it Matt was smiling from where he was washing dishes in the kitchen, attention focused completely on you in the other room.

Near the end of the song Mia waved her arms around a little, and you didn’t care if she was copying you or just doing her thing but it made you laugh anyway.

“That’s it baby, get into it!”

It wasn’t often you had the opportunity to sneak up on Matt, ears hearing you approaching from more than a block away, always making sure you’re safe. But every now and then you had a rare opportunity to, and it was always a gem to catch Matt off guard.

Today you had gone grocery shopping while Matt stayed home with Mia. You had returned from shopping, hearing Matt’s voice on the other side of the apartment door made you stop for a moment. You stood by the door, ear close to the gap trying to listen to what he was saying.

“Now it isn’t so bad, see? If I had known this is what you wanted in the first place we could’ve avoided a lot of stress, sweetheart”

A warmth blooms in your chest as a smile graces your face, a few moments of silence pass before you hear him speak again.

“Ah here we go, you like this one. You gotta learn to tell me this stuff, your mother says communication is important, y’know” He chuckled to himself.

Finally, you unlock the door and go into the apartment. Upon walking into the living area you find Mia lying on her tummy on the play mat, surrounded by toys within arm’s reach, and Matt lying on his stomach on the floor, chin resting on his arms facing Mia.

He greeted you the moment you walked in and you greeted back while putting the bags of groceries on the counter. You shrugged your jacket and shoes off and walked over to Matt and Mia, lying down right next to Matt, mirroring his position and facing Mia.

“Didn’t realise we all needed tummy time” You laughed, giving Matt a kiss on the cheek before leaning forward to kiss Mia on the forehead.

“This was what made her happy, who am I to argue” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re a sucker” You nudged him with your elbow.

“I might be” He laughed and hung his head.

Mia’s first birthday involved too much ice cream and cake, but Dani had insisted that after all the time she’d spent playing with Mia that she wanted ice cream and you didn’t have the heart to say no. She loved ripping the wrapping paper off of her gifts more than she liked the actual gifts, you made a note of that for when Christmas came around.

As she grew a whole corner of the office became a play area for her, and occasionally Dani. At first it was one corner, but as soon as she began walking unaided the whole office was hers to play in as far as she was concerned. Matt would often step on toys left lying around his office, muttering to himself in annoyance while putting it away. The conference room had become the nap room, and Mia enjoyed the walk between the office and home.

She often wanted to sit on yours or Matt’s lap while you worked, eager to bang on the computer keyboards and scribble on notepads. You caved and bought an old keyboard for her to play with, it meant she stayed off your lap a little longer, but not Matt’s.

Mia was a daddy’s girl through and through, and Matt would do anything for his little girl. His ears were always tuned in to the sound of ‘dada’ and always telling her she was perfect. You would often hear them having ‘conversations’ on his office, him telling her a story and she would babble back happily.

It was 1:30pm, you had put all work on hold to deal with Mia who refused to nap and was letting everyone else deal with the consequences. Matt was getting frustrated; she would cling to her dad when upset but he had work to do, and the crying child on the floor under his desk didn’t help with productivity. You were getting annoyed that she wasn’t being receptive to anything you did to calm her down and eventually gave up, bordering on tears yourself.

Despite the feelings of guilt Matt made you sit on the couch with him in his office and just leave Mia, she would cry herself tired. He reassured you that you weren’t a bad mother for letting it happen, and if she kept going then he would handle it. You leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, trying to relax even with the sound of crying filling the room. Matt rubbed your arm soothingly and sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.

The two of you hadn’t felt like this since the sleepless nights when Mia was a newborn, you’d gotten used to her good sleep schedule and generally good behaviour. Jess laughed that the ‘terrible twos’ was approaching, and you refused to believe your baby girl could be anything remotely near terrible. That was until today, when she wouldn’t nap and you were quickly running out of patience.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you came back to reality, thinking you had tuned out the crying you opened your eyes and took stock of the room around you. You lifted your head and looked at Matt who had a small smile on his face, looking relieved. It was then you clocked how quiet the room was.

“Is she-?” You whispered.

“Yep” He sighed in relief.

You got up from the couch and made your way over to the desk, crouching to peer underneath. Mia was curled up under Matt’s desk, dark hair pointing in all directions and cheeks still red from her meltdown. Other than the wet tears under her eyes she looked as peaceful as ever, and you felt the tension leave your shoulders.

Matt had gotten up and retrieved a blanket from the conference-slash-nap room to put over her. He joined you where you were crouched and carefully covered Mia with the blanket, then standing up and collecting his files. He sat on the couch and continued his work, while you went to make a cup of coffee, both of you pleased you could finally get some work done before going home for the day.

“I do it!”

“Okay okay, you can do it” Matt laughed as Mia tried to stir the pasta sauce by herself.

He had always preferred cooking when he had company to do it with, the two of you had loved cooking together since you first met. You weren’t chefs but Matt knew what tasted good and you had a knack for portioning pasta perfectly every time (Matt joked that it was your heightened sense). Now that Mia had come along, he had someone else to cook with who was always attached to his hip.

She attempted to stir the sauce, it being too thick for her small arms to handle and Matt sneakily helping her. Once a few stirs were done she clapped her hands and Matt gave her endless praises and cheek kisses, you couldn’t help but smile at them.

You had tried to feed her a mouthful, but she outright refused and said she could do it herself. It was at this point you realised she’d inherited Matt’s sense of independence, wanting to do everything on her own without any help. Trying to stop yourself from helping her when she was getting half the pasta sauce down her shirt was tough, and Matt’s giggles weren’t helping.

“Your daughter is becoming like you” You said to Matt while you both cleaned up after Mia had gone down to sleep for the night.

“Again with the my daughter, you had a hand in making her too y’know” He smiled, amused.

“She’s becoming stubborn, and refuses help. It’s sounding all too familiar, won’t be long until you’re teaching her how to throw a proper punch” You joke, rolling your eyes.

Matt walks up to you and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you close and kissing you with a smile on his face, and you can’t help but kiss back. Still giving you butterflies after all these years.

“You don’t have to worry about her, the way she plays with Dani, she’s inherited your kindness and empathy. Besides, I’m a good father so I won’t teach her how to throw a punch until she’s at least 5” He laughed again at this own joke while you just groaned and rolled your eyes.

Once his laughter has died down you kiss him on the cheek and begin walking towards the bathroom to have a shower.

“You’re lucky I love you, Mr Murdock”

“Very lucky indeed”

He quickly catches up to you and sweeps you off your feet, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom while you can’t help but giggle.

“Daddy!”

“Good morning sweetheart!”

Mia runs through the lounge room to the kitchen where Matt was getting her lunch ready. He takes a few steps forward to meet her and scoop her up in his arms when they meet. She wraps her arms around his neck while he holds her in a tight hug.

“Tell me what your outfit is today” He continues to hold her with one arm while getting food together with the other hand.

“Got a dress and boots”

“What colour are they?”

“Pink and blue, and pink!”

“As beautiful as always” He kisses her on the cheek before placing her back on the floor to run around the apartment for a little bit.

You walk into the kitchen to make coffee for you and Matt, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a quick good morning. The two of you start a discussion about the cases you’re currently working on and when the next court date is.

As you leave the apartment the glint of Matt’s red glasses on the shelf catches your eye, he hadn’t worn them in years. Right after the snap he was in such an awful place that wearing his glasses out was the least of his concerns, and it became a bit of a habit. Then when Mia came along, he didn’t want her remembering how he looked only with his glasses on, losing any reason to wear them daily.

On the walk from the apartment to the office Mia walks between the two of you, holding a hand each and skipping. Every few steps you and Matt lift her up by the arms and swing her, making her laugh loudly. Her laugh echoes down the otherwise quiet street, and you think you see someone on the other side of the street smile at the sound.

Halfway through the walk Mia begs to get on Matt’s shoulders and he can’t say no to his little girl, you mutter about how he’s a softie and he pretends to not hear you but reveals himself by rolling his eyes.

“Since its Friday did you wanna finish up early and head to the park for the afternoon?” You ask Matt, nearing the office.

“Yes park!” Mia cheered from her place up on Matt’s shoulders, her arms wrapped around his head, hands meeting on his forehead.

“Park sounds good” He turned his head towards you and smiled.

You reach the office building and Matt lifts Mia off of his shoulders, you begin making your way up the stairs, searching your bag for the keys to the office. Matt and Mia hung behind because Mia insisted Matt help her jump up every step.

Once the two of them had finally reached the office, Matt went to his desk as Mia tipped out her box of toys onto the floor and began rummaging through them all looking for something she wanted. You sat at the reception desk and opened your laptop, checking emails like any other day.

Today was a quiet day, not many emails and even fewer calls. It was mostly a day of research and helping Matt prepare for a court date the following week. Mia would interrupt to show you her drawings and you all took a break for lunch.

Mid-afternoon when the both of you were satisfied with how much work you’d gotten done that day began packing up the office, putting away files and leaving to-do lists for Monday. Matt walked out of his office and stood next to your desk, Mia was on the floor slowly putting her toys back into the box.

Suddenly, Matt started breathing heavily and bent over, having to hold onto the desk for support as if he’d just been hit in the gut. His eyes were wide and you were immediately concerned – you couldn’t lose him too.

“Matt, are you alright? What’s wrong?” You asked concerned, a hand on his arm and one on shoulder.

He turned his head towards you and the look on his face was worrying, a mix of horror and confusion. It made your blood go cold; the last time he looked like that the whole world came crashing down.

“Something’s happened” He breathed out, putting a hand on your arm and squeezing tight.

“Are you okay, dada?” Mia asked from her spot on the floor, confusion all over her face.

It was then you heard it, you heard everything; people yelling and screaming, cars honking, and sirens going off. Your legs almost gave way, your heart thundering in your ears and breathing becoming difficult as you try to comprehend what was happening.

Another breath left your lips, you squeezed your eyes shut and when you opened them there was another person in the room. Time seemed to stop, all the noises outside seemed to quiet as you took in the face of the person standing in front of you. Your voice had been ripped from you with the breath you had been holding, Matt was the one to speak first.

“Foggy?”

a/n: Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it and please let me know if you did <3 I could probably add some extra scenes in (or even write Karen and Foggy's return) so if you'd like to read more let me know and I might think about writing some more :) P.S: the 'important song' referenced about halfway through is Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer bc I LOVE that song.