#hoped—wished that the three of you were free of such concerns

[curiosity-killed]

i know it’s not wipwed but i am having feelings abt my two oldest* OCs okay

“If you mean to say that I am a poor judge of character, there is no need to waste breath,” he said, stiff.

She huffed out a breath and then turned, sitting on her hip to reach out with the hand not holding her staff. Catching his hand, she tugged it from his elbow, and he scowled at her, trying to pull out of her grip. She curled her fingers into his palm and held tight.

“Someone always has to leave first,” she said, squeezing once, “and it was never going to be you.”

He looked away, throat suddenly thick. She was wrong. Valyn would never have gone to such lengths, would never have— If he wanted the throne, why had he never asked? Callebero had never held back from giving him all that he could: his company, his favor, his support in all matters. What was a crown in comparison to such things?

His breath hiccupped, stuttering in his chest.

“Oh, abja,” Malia said. “Little brother. Come here.”

With the hand still clutching his, she pulled him close, and he turned to her, hiding in her embrace. He was too tall and they were both too old to be sitting in the dirt like this, but Malia wrapped her arm around his shoulders and held him close. One hand soothed up and down his spine as if he was a little child, and the other held tight to his.

[tetsumie]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘" 𝐏𝐓 𝟐

read part 1 here!

pairing: kuroo x reader & bokuto x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: the boys call you clingy but they don’t mean it

a/n: hello ahhh it's been awhile since i've posted but i'm trying to get back into the habit of writing again! someone in my inbox had requested me to add bokuto to this list so i tried my best but i hope you all enjoyed this and feel free to stop by my inbox to leave a comment, tell me your thoughts, or just lmk how it's going hehe :,)

kuroo tetsuro

"i'm home," a mumble echoed out into the empty living room.

at the sound of the door opening, you make your way out of your shared bedroom to greet your overworked boyfriend, kuroo.

"hi baby," you replied with a tired smile on your features.

the door closes and kuroo slides off his slacks, loosens his tie, runs his fingers through his hair, and sighs in exhaustion.

"hey."

"have you eaten dinner yet?" you start to ramble. " i can warm up dinner and we could maybe share a meal together?"

"we haven't spent much time together in a while so you know.. i was just thinking... we could do something small together?"

you continue to ramble about how you spent all evening trying a new recipe you saw on tiktok that really fascinated you.

but kuroo is not having it.

all he wants to do is just go to bed and forget the past couple shitty days he's had at work. today, especially, was stressful considering how nothing had gone his way and the higher ups just wouldn’t stop giving him a hard time.

he kept his frustration, tiredness, anger all bottled up for the past couple days and they were all about to boil out.

on top of that, your constant rambling isn't helping. you keep talking and talking and talking and his mind is beginning to get cloudy and his anger is about to boil over.

his voice rises and he finally speaks, "god y/n.. can you just shut the fuck up and stop being all up in my space? you're so fucking clingy just leave me alone."

oh.

you mouth shuts up mid sentence and you're looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye after hearing his true feelings.

"sorry, i just wanted to spend some time and talk and relax with you..." your voice goes quiet. "you've been out really late for the past couple days so i was just hoping-"

however, kuroo's outburst isn't over yet. if anything, your little comment voicing your concerns seems to have make him a bit more upset.

"yeah, i've been out late because of how suffocating it is here at home with you. god, it's like you just can't take a fucking hint! just leave me the fuck alone!" he says and your eyes go a bit glassy.

"r-right," you say as you're turning around so he doesn't see the tears forming in your eyes. "sorry, i'll respect your wishes and give you your space."

seeing your hunched figure walking away brought him back to his senses.

what the fuck did i just say to them? oh my god.

"y/n wait i'm sorry-" he begins but is cut off.

"kuroo, i think you've said enough tonight."

the sound of his last name coming out of your mouth leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he knows he's fucked up immensely. the door to the bedroom closes, indicating that you're clocking out for the night and you can't deal with this conversation any bit longer.

kuroo sits himself on the couch with his head in his hands, shaking his head.

what the hell did i just say to them? it's not even their fault... i just... how the hell do i make it up to them?

kuroo walks to the door and places three subtle knocks on the door, begging for permission to enter. he's greeted with no acknowledgement or response.

he turns the knob and to his surprise it opens. there, he sees you fast alseep in your comforter in a fetal-like position. he goes into the closet, changes into his pajamas, and immediately climbs into bed.

he brings you close to his side of the bed, specifically putting your head on his chest. he begins to stroke your hair and places gentle kisses on your head, mumbling soft "i'm sorry's" and "i love you's."

he's praying to whatever deity out there that this would blow over by tomorrow morning or something.

but kuroo wakes up the next morning to his worst nightmare: you're not in bed with him. he feels his blood run cold and he's running the worst case scenarios in his head.

he rushes out of the bedroom to see that you're nowhere in the apartment. he sees a bright colored post-it note stuck on to the fridge with a note scribbled in your handwriting.

"i'm staying at a friend's house for the next couple of days. i just need time to think for a bit. there's some leftovers from last night in the fridge so make sure you eat those.

love u always, y/n"

kuroo's hands shake as he's holding your post-it note.

of course, they'd leave. i treated them like shit and hurt them so badly of course they want to leave. but even after everything, they still love me… i don’t deserve them.

kuroo begins to spiral and the next couple of days aren't any easy for him.

every attempt at texting or calling you has lead to no response. he goes to sleep without you next to him, holding back tears every time. every morning without fail, he pats the vacancy next to him in hopes that you'll be there but to his demise, every time, you're not. work feels even more lethargic than usual. before, he used to look forward to coming home to you but now you're not even at home so what's the point in even trying. counting down the hours until he gets to leave his cubicle has become futile.

i just really want them back. please come back home.

but when he comes home from a pain achingly long day of work, he doesn't find you and his mood plummets even more.

that is until one day, kuroo is able to leave work early where he comes home and hears the familiar noise of the coffee maker brewing. his eyes shoot up from his slacks to look over at the kitchen where he sees you in all your beauty, fidgeting with the knobs on the coffee machine. your eyes both lock and you immediately look away.

kuroo thought you were gone for good. and the fact that you were only a couple feet away from him made his heart swell and his eyes water. there's so much to say but his not a single word is escaping his mouth.

"you want some coffee? i just started a new batch," you finally say to fill up the silence of the room.

he gulps, "sure yeah."

you grab a coffee cup and pour him a fresh cup of coffee and slide it to him across the kitchen counter, avoiding getting too close to him.

too nervous to even touch his drink, he begins to address the elephant in the room, "y/n, i'm so sorry for what i said that night. i had no right to speak to you in the manner."

"it's okay," you say in a curt manner. "i get it."

he shakes his head and tries to get closer to you to convey his feelings but is stopped when he sees you take a step back. his heart cracks.

"no it's not okay sweetheart. i've been so busy with work and i just got super overwhelmed with everything and-"

"kuroo, you know you don't have to make any excuses right?" you interrupt his train of thought.

he's confused now. "excuses? y/n what are you even talking about- "

"just end it with me already... i know you want to," you say, looking down at the fresh cup of coffee in your hands. "you made that very clear."

his world freezes.

the world becomes completely silent.

his mouth is slightly open, caught off guard. he doesn't know what to say.

however, you interpret his silence as him putting down the excuses finally and admitting that he doesn't want to put effort into this relationship with you anymore.

hell, he doesn’t even want this relationship with you anymore.

"right, if you won't i will so it's easier for the both of us. i think we should-"

"don't you dare finish that fucking sentence," he moves close to you all of a sudden and his familiar lingering cheap cologne smell takes up your senses. the gears begin to click in his head before you can respond to him.

kuroo's arms envelop you in his embrace. "i want you. only you. i'm sorry i made you think otherwise."

the tears you've been holding back for the past couple minutes standing in front of him overflow and you feel like the world is about to end.

you push kuroo off you slightly. "i know you've been busy with work and i just wanted to spend some time with you. i never meant to come off as clingy but clearly you thought so so-"

"i'm just a complete douche,” he interrupts. “you were trying to help me out and make me feel better and i was so caught up with work, i couldn't appreciate that."

"i never want to ever make you feel that way again. you never deserved to hear any of that from me and everything i said couldn't be far from the truth. your presence has never been a bother and if anything, coming home to you is the best part of my day.”

“i shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me and i'm so sorry that it did and that i hurt you in the process. i hate that i’m the reason behind your tears and i’ll do everything to make it up to you to show you how much i love you."

the tears from your eyes continue to flow and he delicately wipes every single one from your eyes kissing your cheek every time without fail.

"are you sure you don’t find me suffocating? you said that you hated being home with me though so i just thought-" you start to say.

"i will spend my entire life reassuring you that it isn’t true. i promise you are never suffocating me and your presence never fails to make me feel better on a shitty day. i will do anything to regain your trust and faith in me,” he adamantly speaks with his hands in yours.

hearing his determined resolve, the tears flow even more.

"i love you so much, tetsu."

"i love you too baby," he smiles and delicately kisses your lips. "now let's go out. how do you feel about going out for dinner? i’ve got a lot of making up to you to do."

"i'll never say no to that."

bokuto koutaro

the msby jackals lost 2-0 sets and the entire team was taking the loss hard but no one as hard as bokuto.

"bokuto-san, what do you think went wrong today's game?" an interviewer asks with his notepad out, scribbling notes.

"er, uh, well, today was just a rough day and i had a tough time keeping up with the opponent's plays today... it just was not a good day."

"i have one more question," the interviewer asks.

"go ahead," he gruffs out.

"you are known for your infamous line shots especially during deciding moments of the game. you missed multiple of these shots during today's game. were you distracted during this game? is it because of your new relationship status or were-"

bokuto is now riled up. who the hell does this interviewer think he is to corner me and bring in my personal life???

"i'm leaving, fuck this shit," he spits out, trying his best to maintain his composure.

in frustration, bokuto storms out of the press conference room, slamming the double doors, heading towards the locker room to grab his stuff but is stopped by you, running after him.

"kou! wait up!" you say from a distance and he stops in his tracks to look at you. he's still internally raging from the provocative behavior of that interviewer and he feels like he just might lose it.

"what do you want," he says in an aggressive manner that catches you off guard.

you’re aware of the recent loss of the msby jackals. you know that's probably taking a toll on his confidence as a player so you're trying to be as supportive as you can.

"you wanna come back to my place? i was thinking we could watch that one disney movie you like and we could bake something together too? what do you think?"

"why do you always want to fucking hang out?" he says in the lowest tone of voice you've ever heard from him.

it sends shivers down your spine.

"huh?" you're just confused at this point.

"why are you so fucking clingy all the time? it's always 'kou come over!' or 'kou let's watch a movie!' or 'kou let's take a nap together!' like don't you fucking get that i have a genuine career that i'm working really hard to be successful in?"

so that's what he thinks of me.

"i know you want to be a pro volleyball player and i want to support you the entire way. i was just trying to be there for you and help you relax..." you trail. "i get today was really rough for you.."

"that's the thing you don't get it, y/n!" he says exasperatedly. "if you did want to be supportive for me and my career, then you would stop being so all up on me and give my space!"

he walks into the locker room, slamming the door, shaking you up.

in defeat, you begin to leave the stadium with tears brimming your eyes. as you get in your car, you put your head on the steering wheel and suddenly, the tears start to stream out.

"i'll give him his space. i'll just stop everything. i'm nothing of importance to him or his life so it's best if i just stop." you convince yourself.

bokuto, on the other hand, is in the locker room, holding back tears of frustration as he punched one of the lockers.

fuck, what am i even doing right now...

"bokuto-san! let's head out for the night," shoyo's voice can be heard before he can be seen in the locker room. "we're gonna go get drinks and dinner at that new barbecue place that opened up."

he looks up from the bench and smiles at shoyo along with the rest of his teammates that are nodding along in support.

"yeah, sure. fine with me," kou responds with a small smile on his face.

as bokuto and the rest of the jackals are out and about, he keeps looking at his phone in hopes of getting a message or something from you but you're completely radio silent after the spat between the two of you.

he knows you both had a disagreement but he thought you knew that he was just frustrated and upset with the game. he didn't think it was a reason to just go silent on him.

he sends a text to test the waters.

kou <3: babe, we're good right?

he puts his phone down and engages back in the dinner with the rest of the jackals.

an hour has passed yet still no response. it's starting to make him fidgety so he decides to spam you.

kou <3: hello?

kou <3: baby wya???

kou <3: where is the loml at :((

kou <3: BABYYYYYYY

kou <3: POOKIE PLS TXT ME BACK :(((

y/n is typing...

y/n: sry i was getting ready for bed.

you sounded distant. you clearly were upset but was it still about the argument? c'mon you knew he didn't mean what he said... right?

kou <3: ITS OKAY BABY! can i come over? i wanna spend the night with u :,)

kou <3: i miss you

y/n: maybe not tonight... i think it's best if we're by ourselves for a bit

bokuto's hair significantly drooped down, seeing as how he got rejected to hang out with you for the night.

as bokuto heads over to his apartment for the night, he stares at the bedroom ceiling with his thoughts. he misses laying next to his baby. that's when he starts to replay everything that went down between the two of you.

he genuinely can't figure out what went wrong.

he prays that this whole thing will just blow over by tomorrow because he misses you incredibly and just wants to spend time with you.

unfortunately to his demise, you kept shutting down all of kou's efforts to come over. you refused to pick up his calls, resorting to half assed texts.

this whole argument was festering and bokuto had to fix it immediately.

you, however, want nothing more than to spend time with your boyfriend but his words kept running through your mind on loop. anytime you would be sitting alone with yourself, his words kept playing themselves on loop in your brain, making you overthink the post couple months you’ve spent together.

has he always thought of me as clingy? have i always been a bother to him? have i always been super annoying in his eyes?

that was until you heard a knock on the door.

you open the door and see kou standing there in a hoodie and a pair of khakis with a large bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands. his eyes lock with yours while yours widen in surprise.

"k-kou! what are you doing here?" you say in surprise.

"what, i can't see my partnet now?" he retorts lightheartedly. "let me in."

too stunned to even reject him, your hand inherently finds its way to the knob, widening the door so bokuto can fit through into your apartment.

he tries to hand you the flowers but you stand there, hands refusing to move from their sides. "c'mon babe, i got them for you! do you not like them? man, i knew i should've gotten the roses instead."

"no no! thank you so much kou.. i'm just surprised that you even got this for me..." you trail off looking away from him.

he sets the flowers on the kitchen counter and tilts his head in confusion. "what do you mean, y/n?"

"listen, i know you don't really like spending time with me and that you feel obligated to but honestly, we really don't have to hang out or anything like that," you begin to say. "i know i can be a lot sometimes and i'm really working on trying to give you space."

that's when it all clicks in his head for him.

"baby, is this about what i said that day in the gym?" he questions.

you turn away, refusing to even look him in the eye because you know the moment your eyes lock with his, the tears will start streaming down your face.

"baby, no, please," he goes over to you to give you the warmest yet tightest hug possible. "i’m also a very clingy person so i should've known how much my words must have hurt you. i've been so stupid to not see how badly my words must have impacted you, my love. i'm so so sorry for saying and acting the way i did. it's unexcusable."

"no kou it's fine i just-" you say but are interrupted midsentence.

"no, y/n it's not," he says, tears brimming his eyes ever since coming to terms with how hurt you must've been feeling this entire time. "i'll do anything to get your forgiveness and for us to just... be close again. i'll do anything, i mean it."

tears are streaming down both your faces and you can't help but form a wobbly smile on your lips. "pinky promise?"

"pinky promise," kou says as he locks pinkies with you and kisses the top of your head. "now let's cuddle because i've missed being near the love of my life."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved 

[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."

[hellishjoel]

dark paradise 

5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter

A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.  He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.  “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.  “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week. 

No text, no calls, no anything.

It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be. 

Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when. 

Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock. 

You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.  

Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive. 

Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.  

Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.  

That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.

You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window. 

Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?

He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.  

You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again. 

Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good. 

Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts. 

You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.

You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first. 

“Hey.” 

He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.” 

He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel. 

You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.

You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed. 

“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question. 

Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk. 

“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore. 

You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man. 

“You haven’t texted me.” 

“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.” 

“Joel.” You pushed. 

“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely. 

“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”

“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.” 

“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.

“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment. 

There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel. 

“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right. 

You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you. 

“Well I-”

“You what?” 

He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out. 

You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together. 

This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his. 

Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement. 

“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt. 

You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again. 

Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.

You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.

“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care. 

It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it. 

You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.

And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.

There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn’t feel the same way. 

His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck. 

He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt. 

“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach. 

Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited. 

“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.

Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed. 

Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.

You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away. 

“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.

You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck. 

His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet. 

The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were. 

You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time. 

“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.

“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket. 

You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly. 

There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky. 

“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy. 

He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head. 

“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick. 

Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.

His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back. 

Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you. 

“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh. 

“But-” 

“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort. 

A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him. 

Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. 

He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. 

“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. 

“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch. 

You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs. 

Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch. 

Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips. 

“Time is of the essence, Joel.” 

He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim. 

Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold. 

You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths. 

You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now. 

“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late. 

His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time. 

You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation. 

Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession. 

Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good. 

Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.

You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now. 

You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good. 

Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?

 You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes. 

He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.

“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel. 

“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel. 

You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.  

You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy. 

Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles. 

“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.

You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You 

weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping. 

You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples. 

“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.

Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this. 

Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer. 

Then he tried something new. 

A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue. 

The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision. 

A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.

Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers. 

Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls. 

You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late. 

“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.

You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole. 

Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you. 

You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment. 

He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place. 

You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication. 

You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine. 

Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.

“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate. 

“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers. 

“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together. 

“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive. 

He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb. 

You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs. 

You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip. 

You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise. 

You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly. 

“What?”

You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet. 

A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder. 

You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.” 

With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be. 

You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck. 

“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned  to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.” 

A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.” 

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”

You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.” 

Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”

“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.” 

This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.” 

Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake. 

This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness. 

You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.

Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness. 

joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?

You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response. 

how about a movie night? 

He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye. 

joel miller Fine. 

Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one. 

and I can pick the movie?

You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away. 

joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night. 

Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner. 

tomorrow night it is, mr. miller 

joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.

---

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[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

The night we met ♡ Sam Winchester

As a young girl it was drilled into you to never be alone in the woods.

As a woman the same sentiment was echoed.

But as a hunter, you found that that warning couldn't be one that you listened to. For the sole reason of what if there was a young girl or a woman in the woods at the mercy of the very things that you were trained to hunt. Trained to kill.

You'd been a hunter for as long as you could remember, grew up on the road with your mother. Never went to a real school or met anyone your age. It was just the two of you.

Untill it wasn't.

One particularly bad hunt with a nest of vamps left you to mourn the loss of your mother, and you were alone.

And that's how you stayed.

That's how you liked it.

Sure you came into contact with men, it was always men, who thought they knew more or were better than you. But you were still standing, and they, well they were not.

Life expectancy wasn't particularly high in your line of work, it would be a miracle of you made it to your 30th birthday. It seemed that hunters either died young or seemed to live forever. You didn't know what was worse.

That being said, the earlier option seemed very likely right about now.

You were alone in the woods, in a deep fog, after killing three vamps.

It was dark and there was probably other creatures lurking in the shadows, knowing your luck there would be a vamp nest right around the corner.

What made matters worse is that the exit wasn't exactly clear. You'd lost your map, couldn't hear a road, and (rather inconveniently) there was no sighn posts anywhere.

All you could do is walk in a straight line and hope that you were going in the right direction.

Hope.

You knew the irony.

Hope wasn't worth much. Hope was a damn sure way to get yourself killed. Hope was for young girls who wished on stars, but after learning the myths behind them you had lost faith even in the night sky.

Hope wasn't somthing you would bet your life on, yet you had no choice. It was better than a prayer you supposed.

Suddenly you became aware that your footsteps weren't the only noise in the darkness. There were voices.

Two distinct low voices. Voices of men. Why was it always men?

Familiar warnings rang through your head. You knew it wasn't just monesters you were to be afraid of, sometimes there are more sinister things that lurked in the darkness. Sometimes death wasn't the worst fait to face.

Your hand griped tighter around your knife, your free hand rested on top of your gun.

The voices stopped after a rush of feverish whispers.

You were going to do something stupid.

"Who's there?" You shouted, trying to sound as stoic as possible. If they didn't know you were there they sure did now, along with anything else lurking in the shadows. It really was a stupid decision, but making stupid decisions was part of the job description and it had gotten you this far, or at least you were still alive to tell the tale.

"I'm armed and you've lost the element of surprise so why don't you do us both a favour and stop hiding!" You shouted once more, slightly more urgently this time, even you could hear the slight panic in your own voice.

A tall figure emerged from the shadowy fog, arms raised in surrender. He was tall, almost abnormally so. 'Go for the legs if necessary' you mentally told yourself, just incase he want so friendly. He took slow, purposeful steps towards you in an attempt not to frighten you, you appreciated the gesture but it did nothing to settle your concern.

As he drew closer you could look him in the eyes. And that's exactly what you did. His eyes were Hazel, almost green with a touch of gold with a sense of softness and sensitivity about them. It felt like you were reading a book, being continually drawn in till you don't even rember who you were before you picked it up. Looking at him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn't expericed before on the road. It was nice. It was terrifying.

You cursed yourself for staring too long.

"Who are you?" You questioned, bringing the tip of your knife to rest against the base of his neck, the blood from the vamps, which still coated the blade, sticking slightly to his neck. He stopped in his tracks, his arms still up in surrender.

He looked unfazed, he looked as though he understood.

"My name is Sam winchester and I'm a-" he began but you cut him off, realisation hitting you.

"Winchester? Where's your brother?" You asked lowering your knife. You knew they hunted together, and you didn't want to be ambushed unwittingly my the other.

"Hi sweetheart." Another figure said as he sauntered out of the thick trees.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, making a menal note to stay clear of him if your able to.

You could tell that the one that approached you was the younger of the two, Sam as he introduced himself, the boy with deamon blood, or at least he was.

Meaning that the older of the two, and shorter, was Dean who, unsurprisingly, greeted you slightly condescendingly.

You turned your attention back to the brunette just as he began to speak.

"Wait how do you-?" He asked suddenly, slightly confused but also a hit of relief in his voice.

"Bobby is aways talking about you boys, I mean every hunter knows about you and your serious fuck ups, but Bobby keeps saying I should catch you boys and work with you or whatever but-" you rambled on before the younger winchester cut you off.

"You know Bobby?"

"Everyone knows Bobby."

"Wait so you must be-"

He was about to say your name before, who you assumed to be Dean, cut him off.

"Yes yes nice to meet you and whatever but Sammy and I have more pressing issues to attend to." He said with a wave of his hand ushering his brother over. Only Sam didn't move. His eyes were still fixed on yours. Your eyes still on him.

"I killed the three vamps if that's what you're doing out here." You commented, directing your answer to Sam.

He furrowed his brown in confusion.

"Three?" He asked, slightly taken aback.

"Yeah?" You responded, worry consuming you. You didn't miss one did you? You didn't make a mistake, did you? Everything was so matriciously planned out surely you couldn't have-

"We thought it was just a brother and a sister." Sam interrupted your thoughts, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. He clearly read the panic on your face, it was like he'd known you your whole life. His hand on you seemed to ground you, help you think, but it made you feel almost dizzy. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling you weren't sure if you liked it or not. Regardless of the fact you relished in his touch as you composed yourself enough to explain what you knew.

"No they were hunting with their father, it seemed like this town was their first solo hunts, but it all lead back to him."

Sam finally turned away, his hand falling from your shoulder to look at Dean, in response he simply nodded his head to the side. There was some sort of unspoken communication between the two.

You felt left out. You longed to know what they were thinking. You specifically longed to know what the taller of the two was thinking.

"You're sure there's no more?" Sam asked as he turned to face you once more.

"I know that there are no more that are killing people in this area, that's good enough for me."

He just nodded in response.

"Well I guess that means we're done here," Dean commented clapping his hands together, "you crazy kids what to get out of here, maybe get some pie-"

"Shut up." You cut him off. It wasn't beacsue you were opposed to getting out of the woods, quite the opposite. But you heard something or at least thought you did.

"Sweetheart, I can tell you like my brother here more than me but there is no need to be-"

"Be quiet." You cut Dean off once more as you strained your ears again, you heard another rustling sound coming from near by. You gripped your knife tighter, your thumb drawing small circles on the hilt.

Turning in the spot to get a better gauge of your surroundings you clocked both of the winchesters expressions, they heard it aswell.

"You said it was a father and his two kids right?" Sam asked poised, now holding a large knife of his own.

"Yeah," you responded in a hushed whisper.

"Any sign of a mother?" He asked hurriedly, voicing the one thing you hoped not to be true.

Shit.

You hoped you would stumble onto another hunter, but you knew this time you wouldn't be so lucky. It had to be the mother and you cursed yourself for mot even considering her.

"Sam-" you began but were quickly cut off by a figure charging from the shadows.

She was fast, but worst of all she was smart. Thats probably why none of you picked up on her.

She launched herself at you first, the well known glint of vengeance alight in her eyes. "You killed them you bitch, you killed them all!" She sceamed in your face as you tried to bring your knife up to decapitate her.

But she was fast and her clawed hand dug into the wrist where your knife was Sam and Dean rushed to your side but they were quickly pushed away, falling on the ground too far away to reach you.

"Was this the blade that killed them?" She asked as you struggled against her, "didn't even have the decency to kill me aswell?"

Blood was gushing from your wrist from her claws as she twisted your own blade towards your chest.

From the corner of your eye you could see Sam pushing himself off the floor, disappearing into the fog.

Logically he was leaving you. He didn't know you. It was in his best intrest to get his brother and go, regroup and hunt tomorrow. You know logically that's what he was doing.

But something inside you told you otherwise. Something in your head was telling you that he was coming for you. That he would save you. That you just needed to stay alive for a few more moments.

It was more than hope that you had. You knew Sam was still there. You knew he wouldn't leave you.

You could feel your knife pressing against your rib cage, you were no where near as strong as her, you tried pushing back with all your might but it was no use.

You felt the blade as it began to draw blood. You felt the pain of the rapidly growing wound. You felt yourself slowing begin to loose grip on the world around you.

"Oh I am going to enjoy watching you die." The vamp said, her words venomous against your ear.

"Not as much as I'll enjoy this." As voice said from behind the vamp.

It was Sam.

Her was there, knife above his head as he swung it round.

The vamp was quick, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the blow of Sam's knife as he swung it and swiftly decapitated her.

Blood splattered on you as you let out a sigh of relief. Sam was here.

Sam saved you.

Sam winchester saved your life.

You wanted to run to him but the corners of your vision blured. You were dizzy. You couldn't see. You couldn't stand.

"Sam..." you managed to whisper as the world fell from beneath your feet.

You felt two strong hands wrap around you and lower you slowly to the floor. Your head rested against something sturdy, something warm.

"Hey look at me I'm here," a voice said, it was muffled, distant almost.

"You need to just hang on for me, keep your eyes open okay?" The voice asked of you and you nodded or it at least felt like you did. Your vision was blurry but your eyes were open.

"Dean hurry!" Sam shouted, panicked. Sam was holding you. Your head was against Sam's chest and you were resting in his arms.

You tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot throught you. "Shit." You mumbled, you looked down and saw the knife still in you. It was deeper that what you first thought, but it can't have been that bad you could breathe fine, it missed your lung. You were fine, right?

"Sam?" It came out as more of a question, you didn't want to admit it but you were scared.

This is how your mother died in your arms, did she feel like this too? Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die, or did she foolishly think she would live?

"Hey, hey," Sam stroked your hair soothingly, "I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere okay?" His touched seemed to ground you, soothe you.

"Dean is coming back with medical supply's, your going to be okay."

"Okay." You replied, all you could do was look at Sam. Even when he was blurry he was beautiful. Even when it felt like the world was going dark his eyes were bright as ever.

Thoes were the last things you rember seeing before the world went black, and you finally understood why so many people warned you not go out in the woods alone.

♡♡♡

Anybody want a part 2?

[d-targaryenshoe]

Forgotten Destiny - Anthony Bridgerton

Summary: When one wants a thing it does not mean the other lover would want the same thing, is it not?

Word count: 1543

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky into a tapestry of fiery reds and oranges, Anthony Bridgerton paused in his work, his pen hovering above the paper. 

He glanced at you, as you were sitting primly on the edge of his desk, your delicate features set in a familiar expression of determination. 

Your argument had been raging for the better part of an hour, and it showed no signs of abating. 

The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as if a storm were brewing, waiting for the right moment to break free.

You leaned forward, your voice taking on a pleading quality that only served to enrage your husband further.

 "Anthony, I am your wife," you said, "and I am begging you to reconsider. We have three healthy children, which is just fine to me."

Anthony bit back a retort, unable to understand how you could be so content with your current situation. 

"But y/n," he said, his voice strained, "don't you want to give our children the gift of another sibling?"

You sighed, your gaze drifting to the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "Of course I do, but yet I still think we shouldn't."

Anthony frowned, his eyes narrowing. "But why? What's the problem? You know that I can provide for any number of children."

You hesitated, unsure how to put your concerns into words. You glanced around the room, feeling a sense of overwhelm. 

Your house was beautiful, yes, but it was also filled with so much noise and activity. 

Three children were a handful even when they were well-behaved, and you worried that another one might push them all over the edge. 

"Yet it is my body, Anthony," you began.

He looked up sharply, his expression softening. 

"I understand that, dearest. I do not take your sacrifice lightly. But I feel like we are such a close family, and I want our children to have the same bond that we share."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

 "I know you do, but sometimes I feel like we lose ourselves in being parents. I want to be a wife to you too, Anthony. I want us to have time for each other, just the two of us."

Anthony's eyes widened at this admission. He hadn't realized how much you had been craving your alone time. 

He set his pen down on the desk and reached across the space between you, taking your hand in his. "You and me talking in my office isn't the same as spending time together?"

 "No, it's not the same. This is us being parents, have a good night, Mr Bridgerton." You snapped before walking away and smashing the door closed.

Anthony sat there for a moment, stunned. He couldn't believe you had just left him like that.

 He watched your retreating figure until you disappeared around the corner, and then he let out a frustrated growl. 

He knew you were upset, but he couldn't help but feel like you were being unreasonable.

The next morning, Anthony awoke to the sound of one of the servants knocking on your door. 

He groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. It had been a restless night, plagued by thoughts of you and the argument.

 He wished he could just apologize and make everything better.

When he finally dragged himself out of bed, he found you already dressed and sitting at the breakfast table, sipping your tea. 

Your expression was still stony, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of hope at the sight of you. 

He walked over to you, took a seat across from you, and gave you his most winning smile. "Good morning, my love. I hope you slept well."

You looked up at him, your eyes guarded, but not answering or saying a single word.

Anthony frowned, feeling the tension between you grow tighter. "Y/n, please," he said, reaching across the table to take your hand. 

"I know we didn't part on the best of terms yesterday, but I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like you're not important to me."

Your eyes met his, and you retreated your hand, going back to reading Lady Whistledown's new gossip.

Anthony sighed, feeling defeated. 

"Y/n, I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel unimportant. I just want what's best for our family. I want us to have another child, but I also want to make sure that we don't lose sight of the love and connection we share."

You looked up at him but turned your head towards the butler who stood at the door. "Finley, would you mind cleaning the table, It just got to me that I had a talk planned with the Duchess of Hastings."

Anthony frowned, his eyes narrowing. "And what would you like to discuss with her?" he asked warily.

"I'll be back in an hour or two for tea, Finley, thank you very much."

Daphne Bridgerton rose from her seat when you entered the sitting room, your graceful movements a testament.

 "Y/n, how wonderful to see you!" she exclaimed, giving you a warm hug. "It's been far too long."

You smiled, returning Daphne's embrace. "It has been, hasn't it? I do apologize for not visiting sooner. I've been rather busy with the children."

You sat down on the plush sofa, and a servant immediately brought in a tray of tea and biscuits.

 Daphne poured you each a cup, taking a sip before asking, "So, how are things going with you and Anthony? I must admit, I was rather surprised when Mama said he wanted another child."

You took a deep breath before answering. 

"He does...at least he does," you admitted. "Anthony is so focused on his duty as a Bridgerton, we've been arguing about having another child."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Oh? have you?"

"Well, Anthony is headstrong that we should try for another as soon as possible, while I want to enjoy the time we have together as a family before we add to it."

"I see," Daphne said thoughtfully, taking another sip of her tea.

 "It's a difficult position to be in, isn't it? On the one hand, Anthony is right in wanting to continue the Bridgerton line, but on the other, you both need to consider your happiness and the well-being of the children you already have."

You nodded, your eyes downcast as you toyed with your teacup. "Yes, it's been rather strained between us. I feel like he doesn't see how important it is for us to have that time together."

Daphne smiled sympathetically. "Well, I can understand where he's coming from as well. Anthony is a devoted father and husband, but he's also a man of duty."

Anthony cleared his throat as he entered the room, his eyes immediately darting between you two. "Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt," he said, his voice a little strained.

Daphne glanced up at him, her expression softening. 

"It's quite alright, Anthony. We were just discussing the challenges of maintaining a happy marriage while balancing family obligations." She motioned for him to sit down. "Please, join us."

Anthony hesitated for a moment before taking a seat. He cleared his throat again and looked at you, his expression contrite.

"I know I've been insensitive. I shouldn't have pushed for another child without considering how it would affect us as a couple, and I never want anything to come between us. I just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

Daphne reached out and placed her hand on his arm, offering him a reassuring smile. "It's alright, brother. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you recognize them and are willing to apologize."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew Anthony meant every word he said, and you loved him for it. 

But you couldn't help feeling a twinge of uncertainty. You had been through so much already, and the thought of adding another child to the mix was both exciting and terrifying.

"I do appreciate your apology," you said finally, your voice quiet but steady. "But we need to find a way to move forward together. We need to decide what's best for our family."

Anthony nodded, his expression serious. "You're right. I want us to find a solution. I want to be the best husband and father I can be."

You considered his words for a moment.

 "How about this? Let's wait until the end of the season. By then, we'll have had some time to reconnect and renew our focus on our family. If we still feel the same way, we can discuss the possibility of having another child. Does that sound fair?"

Daphne smiled encouragingly. "It sounds like a very sensible plan, y/n. And if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to bounce ideas off of, please don't hesitate to reach out."

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, each lost in your thoughts. But there was an understanding between you, a sense of unity that gave you hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, you could find a way to make everything work.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hey hey heyyy!!! Can you pretty please do a headcannon or blurb of the 141 boys and Ko Ko of them telling you they loved you for first time? tysm!!!😝

Sure thing!!🙃 I hope you enjoy this! Thanks for this request!

141 + König Telling The Reader They Love Them For The First Time

Warnings: mentions of night terrors, mentions of harassment/physical abuse, mentions of crying, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

It was a quiet evening, and you and Simon had just finished dinner when you found yourselves laying in bed together. You'd been together for nine months, and Simon tried to spend all of his free time with you when he was home on from deployment.

Simon sat up briefly to get a drink of water, and the muscles in his shoulders protested his every move. He groaned and rolled them, hoping to ease some of the pain.

This didn't go unnoticed by you, however. Your eyes flicked over to him, and watched as he tried to fight through his discomfort. "Si? You alright?"

"Yeah, fine, love. Just must've slept on it wrong, is all." He waived away your concerns as he took a sip of water.

"Lies. Get on your stomach, now. Shirt off" You demanded, your tone leaving no room for him to question you.

He gave a small chuckle before adhering to your wishes. He laid out on his stomach in front of you on the bed. "Yes ma'am."

You straddled his backside and began to work your fingers into the flesh of his shoulders, smiling to yourself when you heard soft moans emitting from his lips.

"Just the shoulders?" You asked, rubbing at the spot where his shoulders met his neck.

He pulled you into him and pressed kisses along your shoulder, ending with one on your head. "Thank you for taking care of me."

He nodded his head, a groan escaping him. You wiggled your way slightly up his back and really dug your fingers into him, pushing with just enough force not to hurt him. You kept him under your touch for nearly 30 minutes before he moved to lay on his side.

"Of course, Simon. I'm always here for you, whatever you need, you know that." You kissed his hand before tucking your arms around his, holding yourself close to him.

The two of you laid like that for some time, and after a while, he felt your breathing start to deepen. He let himself listen to you, and smiled to himself.

It'd been a very, very long time since Simon had ever felt this relaxed, and he felt for possibly the first time in his life, optimistic about what the future held for him. As long as he had you by his side he'd be happy.

He inhaled deeply before he let those three words escape his lips for the first time. "I love you."

He let himself doze into a peaceful slumber, and unbeknownst to him, you'd heard his confession and fell asleep yourself with the biggest smile on your face, holding him just a bit closer that night.

König-

You and König had been together for some time, but this was the first night that he'd ever spent over your flat. You'd spent the night cooking together, as Konig had just taught you to make one of his favorite Austrian dishes.

Later that night, he two of you were tangled in the sheets together when you began to trace your fingers lightly over some of the scars littering his skin.

"Where'd you get this one?" You asked, your fingers dancing lightly over one of the marks on his abdomen.

Konig's eyes followed to where your fingers laid and let out a small chuckle. "That one, I got hit in the chest by a BB Gun when I was little."

You hummed in response, as you moved to the next one. "This one?"

His eyes darkened slightly, as he shifted his eyes away from the scar your attention was focused on. "That..one.. when I was first enrolled, I was a part of a hazing scheme. A bunch of the older batch of recruits threw rocks at me, and one hit me there, caused a pretty nasty gash."

Your heart shattered at his words, as you looked up to find him staring off in the distance, with a solemn expression on his face. You ran your finger back and forth on the mark before placing a soft kiss to the scarred flesh.

Konig's breath hitched in this throat at your gentle touch, and his eyes moved to your face, studying you intently. You continued to pepper kisses along every scar of his you could find, before pulling your face up to meet his eyes.

"Every one of these scars is beautiful, Ko, just like you. Those guys were jerks." You huffed, annoyed that anyone would've ever treated someone as gentle as your boyfriend in such a horrid way.

Konig's entire world stopped at your words. He'd been called a lot throughout his life, but beautiful was never one of them. Beautiful was something he thought of when he thought of you. To think that you were with him, and truly thought of him as someone who was attractive, had his heart melting. He knew in that moment, that you were the person he wanted to be with, always.

"Y/N." He whispered, catching your drifting attention. You looked up to him, the corners of your lips upturned slightly. "I love you."

You let out a small gasp, as this was the first time, he'd ever told you those words. You hadn't expected them to come from him any time soon.

"I love you too, Konig, always."

John Soap MacTavish-

You and Johnny were on a picnic date together, a few months into your relationship, when a random storm cell had passed through the area, causing the skies to open up on the two of you.

"Shit! I didn't think it was supposed to rain!" He yelled out, the rain being so loud he could barely hear himself think.

You let out a laugh as you stood from the blanket and began spinning, letting the rain fall on your face.

Johnny came up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist before placing a kiss on your lips.

You pulled away with a small giggle. "I've always wanted to be kissed in the rain."

He gave you a warm glance before returning his lips to yours, pulling you closer into his body.

"It's pishin it doon out here." He chuckled as he pulled away.

"Aye, that it is. I'm absolutely drookit (soaked)." You nodded your head, practically beaming. You hadn't had this much fun in a while.

Johnny's eyes lit up at your words, a goofy smile making its way to his lips. "You know Scottish slang?"

"May have taught myself some." You cheeks reddened at your admission.

He let out a hearty laugh as he picked you up and spun you around. "You are the perfect person for me, ya know that?"

You pressed your lips to his once more as the rain continued to pour down on the two of you. Johnny rested his forehead on yours, his wide smile still etched on his lips. "I love you, Y/N."

The serious tone of his voice had the red in your cheeks deepening in color, as you nuzzled your face in his neck. "I love you too, Johnny."

John Price-

That day, not only did you finally get your kiss in the rain, but the man you loved finally told you those three words you'd been dying to hear, since the day you laid eyes on him.

John had had a terrible day. Nothing was going his way, and his team had just failed their recent mission, letting a piece of valuable intel slip away into enemy's hands.

You were a medic for the team, and yours and John's relationship had been kept under wraps for the better part of 5 months now. You'd heard of what happened on their mission, and had excused yourself from your duties early, to go and find your lover trapped in the confines of his office, his head thrown into his hands.

He noticed your presence right away, his head flying up, a forced smile etched onto his lips. "Hey, love. Sorry I didn't come by earlier. It's uh, been a day."

"No worries hun, I figured. Brought you a little something to help lighten the mood." You gave him a warm smile before placing a burger you'd gotten from the cafeteria, with his favorite bottle of scotch on the tray.

His eyes lit up as he saw the scotch, his gaze immediately turning to you. "Where on earth did you find this?"

"Had a secret stash for days like this, no big deal." You pulled out two plastic cups, and poured some of the liquid in each.

He raised his glass to you as you handed it to him. "You have no idea how much I needed this, thank you."

You gave him a nod before taking a large gulp of the amber liquid, as John watched on in astonishment. It wasn't often he'd seen someone take a full swig of scotch and not make any face, as it had a tendency to be quite strong.

John smiled to himself before taking a swig himself, hissing as the liquid burned the back of his throat. You regarded him thoughtfully, before deciding to speak again. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Just having you here is enough." John shook his head as he held your gaze. He patted his knee, inviting you over to him.

You climbed over on his lap, pressing a bruising kiss to his lips. "I'm happy you're back John. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He studied you with a small smile, the alcohol now intensifying the warm feeling pooling in his belly.

"I love you." His voice was barely above a whisper.

You practically glowed, as you absorbed his words, your elation clearly showing on your face as he let out a breathy laugh.

"I love you too, John."

Kyle-

You and Kyle had put together a movie night in for the last night before Kyle's 2 month long deployment. You had been together a little under three months, and couldn't be happier.

You were cuddled on the couch together, finishing some Rom Com you'd convinced Kyle to watch with you, when Kyle noticed you dozing off, and squeezed your arm gently. "Why don't we head to bed, yeah?"

You stretched, in an attempt to wake up yourself up and shook your head. "No, it's okay. We wanted to stay up."

Kyle gave a soft chuckled. "Love, its nearly midnight. Probably best we get some sleep."

You blinked at him a few times, your eyes filling with tears. "But...you leave in the morning."

Kyle's heart throbbed at your words, as he pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled you closer. "I know.. I promise it'll fly. I know that doesn't make it easier though."

You sniffled as you buried yourself in his chest, tightly grasping at his shirt. "Promise me you'll come back?"

Kyle lifted your head gently, as he stared into your eyes. "I promise you, Y/N."

The two of you knew that it wasn't a promise that he could make, but his words brought you solace nonetheless. You both sat huddled in each other's arms before his words had your ears perking up. "I love you."

You turned to him, your tears now falling freely down your cheeks. "I love you too, Kyle."

"Well darn, now I truly have to make sure I come home. I've got to hear those words coming out of your lips at least a trillion more times before I die."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: thanks for reading!!!😊🩵

[another-lost-mc]

haiiii <3 i hope u're doing well! if u don't mind, can i request hcs for the brothers on how they would react to a mc (i don't mind whether it's female or gender-neutral so up to u!) who's a high achiever in human world but struggle a lot and probably fail their classes in devildom? thx so much!! feel free to ignore if u don't feel like writing this <3

When High Achiever!MC Struggles at RAD Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 2.4k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Fluff A/N: I resonate a lot with this prompt because I struggled with perfectionism as a student. It would've been a disaster if I was suddenly dropped in the Devildom and expected to do well somehow. lol

You stare at the paper in your hands. Your professor hands back this week’s quiz stating that the class scores are excellent, for the most part. There are a few muffled giggles around you, and you stare at the failing grade circled in red and resist the urge to cry in front of your classmates.

In the human world, you were an excellent student. You studied hard, completed your homework every night, finished all your assigned readings, and always left yourself an extra day or two to proofread your written work for errors and accuracy.

In the Devildom, you still do all those things but it doesn’t matter whether it’s a quiz or an assignment - your marks are horrible. Not just horrible by your standards, either.

Some of the professors approach you quietly after class and suggest remedial classes or private tutoring to help you. Other professors, the ones who are less sympathetic to your struggles, sneer when they hand back your work like you’re a perfect example of how humans are so weak.

The walk home from RAD is a blur. The demon brothers chat animatedly around you, but you aren't paying them much attention.

“We’re gonna order takeout for dinner tonight,” Mammon grins when you walk through the front door behind him. He waves his credit card in your face. “My treat. Whatcha want from Hell’s Kitchen?”

“I’m not hungry,” you mutter when you brush past him. You move through the clump of demons in the hallway and head to your room. Your bag slips off your shoulder to the floor, and you fall face-down on your bed and finally let yourself cry.

You don’t know how long you sob into your pillow, cursing yourself for your failures and wishing you never came here, until there’s a soft knock on your door and a familiar voice calling your name.

LUCIFER

Lucifer knows about your poor grades. Your professors have spoken to him and Barbatos more than once, since they’re the ones in charge of overseeing the student exchange program at RAD. Compared to the other exchange students, your consistently below-average or failing grades are a concern.

He’s going to consider your poor marks as a reflection of their program’s efficacy and not a personal failure on your part. Solomon and the Angels score higher in classes than you, but that makes sense - they’re all more familiar with the fantastical concepts you’re learning about for the first time.

He looks over your recent tests and written work to figure out the best solution. It’s obvious that it’s the overwhelming amount of Devildom knowledge and history you’re lacking, not your technical writing skills or your ability to comprehend the stacks of textbooks on your desk.

He reminds you as gently as he can that you’re part of an experimental program, and it’s not perfect. He asks for your input because your unique perspective and experience can make the program better for future students. It’s your chance to help improve the school’s image, and Diavolo’s reputation, so that hopefully the three realms can truly have a harmonious future.

In the meantime, he tries to keep a better eye on your well-being and your academics. It’s a difficult task because his time is already split between student council responsibilities and keeping his brothers in line. He knows that his brothers cause as much mischief for you as they do for him.

He offers you the use of his private study where you won’t be disturbed if you want peace and quiet. You don’t have to ask permission, either - you can use it whether he’s there or not. He shows you his collection of records you can listen to if you’d like to play some music while you study. (He puts the dangerous cursed records away where you won’t accidentally use them.)

If there happens to be a new kettle and a porcelain tea set and tin of your favourite tea on a shelf nearby, it’s just a coincidence. You’re welcome to use them as much as you’d like, though - he insists.

MAMMON

Mammon has a hard time believing that your grades are as bad as you say they are. You’re so smart, and he knows you work so hard. You’re the one shooing him away from your room when there’s an essay or big test coming up, telling him that you need to focus. He doesn’t like it, but he understands. The worst part is, you do all that and his grades are still better than yours - and he’s not even trying!

He’s going to blame everything and everyone except you for your academic difficulties. Diavolo and Barbatos should’ve anticipated this when they designed the exchange program, the professors shouldn’t be such assholes about it, Lucifer should’ve been helping you more, his brothers should leave you alone…

(He ignores your snarky comment about how demons shouldn’t be kidnapping random humans to begin with.)

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a solution or a quick-fix to offer you. If such a thing existed, he would’ve gladly bought and paid for it by now. He knows he has a carefree approach to school, so he’s not going to pretend he’s got good advice for you.

No, Mammon is going to focus on being your friend instead. He’s going to keep those bully classmates off your back and keep you company between classes. He’s going to visit your room and make sure you take breaks and let yourself have a little bit of fun, because he doesn’t like seeing you stressed and unhappy. He’s going to remind you every way he knows how that he fuckin’ adores you no matter what your grades are.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan isn’t surprised that you’re struggling. He thinks there’s too much homework, and he knows a lot of the content and history already. It’s no surprise that a normie human like you might be flunking out. 

Since he’s taken some of RAD’s classes online, he’s giving you his notes and study guides. There’s some online study groups he’s going to invite you to in case you'd like to talk to other students learning the same material you are.

Watching you struggle reminds him that it would be so much easier to do everything online. If you prefer to learn or connect with your classmates virtually, then he’s going to advocate for more investment in RAD’s remote learning capabilities. Wouldn’t it be fun to stay home together and do that instead?

He tries not to bother you when he knows you’re stressed about a test or a project, but he misses his Henry when you lock yourself in your room all the time. He hates that you’re so unhappy with your grades. So what if you’re not exactly a booksmart here in the Devildom? You’d ace every test if it were about things that actually mattered, like TSL or your favourite anime series.

He’s not as motivated to do well in school, but he is motivated to help you, in his own way. That usually means inviting you to his room so you can do homework together between matches of Super Smash Devils. Games are a great way to relieve stress, after all!

SATAN

Satan is aware of your poor grades, but he’s not going treat you like Lucifer does and make you go to him like some sort of supplicant begging for help. He’s going to invite himself to your room, or drag you to the library, or drag you to his room, and you’re going to succeed with him as your tutor.

He knows that a proper foundation is crucial to helping you learn about Devildom history, culture, and magic. Satan is going to look over your work and go over the basics with you after he figures out how the school’s curriculum is failing you.

Perhaps exchange students should be placed in modified introductory courses?

That might be a solution for future students but for now, he’s taking you back to basics. He guides you through the fundamentals you’re missing so that the more advanced topics actually make sense. He soothes your frazzled nerves when you struggle with remembering certain historical events. When you start to improve, he praises your correct answers so that he can finally see the radiant smile on your face, the one that he loves so much.

When you're both in desperate need of a break, he invites you to join him on his bed, or on the sofa in the library. He has a book open in his lap -a lighthearted story, something easy to follow - and reads to you. You can hear the smile in his voice as you drift off to sleep.

(Later on, when one of his brothers find both of you asleep, Satan's arms wrapped gently around you, they throw a blanket over both of you and dim the lights.)

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus is going to gather you in his arms and hold you close while he brushes away your tears and tells you how much he adores you. You’re too hard on yourself. He thinks you’re focusing too much on all the things you struggle with and not enough on the things he admires about you. 

He can see what happens when you get frustrated and depressed about your grades. You don’t smile as much anymore, the dark circles under your eyes become more prominent, your clothes fit a bit looser and it hurts him when you treat yourself badly like this. You didn’t do anything wrong and it's not your fault.

It just so happens that he loves pampering you any chance he gets, so don’t be surprised if he’s dragging you away from your desk for a mandatory R&R break in his room. You wince when his fingers dig into the knots in your back and shoulders, but he can feel the moment when you finally stop fighting and let yourself relax.

He’ll talk to you about school, but only if you bring it up first. Otherwise, he’s keeping your mind off things by talking to you about something he saw on Devilgram, or he’s asking your opinion about a new Majolish collab he’s designing.

Oh, how about a shopping spree tomorrow, just the two of you? No objections! He’ll let you choose where to go for dinner since he’s not picky. Afterwards, there’s a new boutique he wants to check out - the clothes they have are stunning, and he’s in the mood to spoil you.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub won’t lie and say he understands what you’re going through, because he doesn’t. Not exactly. He struggles with school sometimes, but that’s because 90% of the time he’s distracted by hunger or food, and the rest is him getting caught up in his hectic club schedule. 

You’re kind to him and so thoughtful when it comes to asking what he’s like for dinner, or if he wants some of your leftovers. He doesn’t always have the right words to say like Lucifer or Satan, and he’s not as adventurous as Mammon or Asmo, but he’s going to work hard to distract you and support you the best he can.

His biggest concern is whether you’re eating enough, and he’s not going to let you skip meals or rush from the table after a couple bites. He reminds you that being hungry and undernourished is going to make it even harder to focus. He makes a conscious effort to control himself when you're cooking - he doesn't want to stress you out even more.

He also asks you to join him when he works out. He wants to make sure you’re taking time to care for your body. He doesn't care whether you do some yoga or light stretching on a mat nearby, or if you want to listen to music while you walk on the treadmill - he watches you out of the corner of his eye while he trains. When you're both finished (or when you're done and he pretends he is too), he makes sure you both get a proper snack from the kitchen.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor surprises everyone when he aces a test after rushing through the answers and napping for the rest of class. He doesn’t realize how it makes you feel only a few seats away from him, scribbling as fast as possible even as the professor slides the paper out from under you, and you end up with a barely passing grade to show for it.  

He’s not going to dwell on his feelings about the exchange program. What he is going to do is share his criticisms loudly, and meanly, with his oldest brother and Diavolo whenever he gets the chance. It’s their fault you’re here, stuck trying to learn thousands of years of history and culture about a place you’ve just learned exists. Of course you’re struggling - they’re asking too much of you.

He’ll offer to help you study, if that’s what you want. You don’t have to rely on Satan for that, you know. But what he considers more important, what he wants to focus on, is helping you with your disturbing lack of sleep.

You might not know this, but he knows how late you stay up at night trying to study. He knows how your mind is constantly racing with thoughts of failure and self-loathing and regret. You get up before your alarm after a restless night of tossing and turning. You sleep so badly, he can’t sleep properly either.

He’s going to start visiting you shortly before your usual bedtime, and he’s going to keep you company while he helps you put your books away. (Stop trying to argue, it’s for your own good.) He’s going to push your pajamas into your arms and nudge you towards the en-suite to change and shower and whatever else you need to do to get ready for bed.

When you come out looking cozy and a bit more relaxed and so damn cute, he’s going to ask which bed you’d prefer to sleep in - yours or his? Because he’s going to ward off the negative thoughts while you fall asleep, and he’s going to give you happier dreams. When you wake up tomorrow, you’ll understand what he already knows: none of that other stuff matters, so long as you have each other.

[hisui-dreamer]

trial romance

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: since you were going to be put in an arranged marriage anyways, you decided to let yourself experience a normal teenage romance first!

Tags: fluff, slow burn, rent-a-boyfriend mallesu, mutual pining nrc and sra are mixed schools, reader has an elder brother, reader is royalty

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: woooh sorry for neglecting you mal mal :( i hope this fic makes up for it hehe

Masterlist

You've never really known love.

Born as the second child of a small, but affluent kingdom, you're not sure you have the right to complain. Each day dawns with the assurance of never experiencing hunger, attended to by countless devoted maids catering to your every whim. It's a life of opulence, one that stands in stark contrast to the struggles endured by those grappling with meager wages just to survive.

Still, there remains an ache within you, a yearning for a love that exists in the enchanting tales of old. A love so untainted that it remains steadfast in any circumstance, a love capable of cleansing away all your sorrows, becoming your very reason of existence.

But such a love seems as distant as the stars. After all, you're bound by the responsibilities as the second princess. Unlike your elder brother who inherits the throne, you are a mere pawn in the intricate game of politics, destined for an arranged marriage rather than a fufiling romance.

In a rare display of benevolence, your father granted you a fleeting taste of freedom, sending you off to live under a false identity at the renowned Royal Sword Academy on Sage Island. Three precious years, promising a respite from the constraints of duty, and you promised to seize each moment and savour the life of a normal person who yearned for love.

Which brings you back to the present moment.

"Jellyfish are such fascinating creatures, don't you think so dear?"

The man stands tall beside you, his golden locks catching the ambient blue glow within the aquarium, lending him an almost ethereal air. His emerald eyes fix upon you, awaiting your response.

You return his gaze, captivated by the way the light dances in his eyes. A soft smile graces your lips as you consider his question.

"They are indeed fascinating," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of admiration. "They move with such grace and fluidity, it's like they're dancing through the water."

He hums at your response, fix focus shifting back onto the creatures drifting in the display.

He's a peculiar man, no doubt. It's puzzling to fathom the sort of individual who would boldly advertise their boyfriend rental services on Magicam. Especially someone as strikingly handsome as he appears to be; you would have assumed he'd have no shortage of admirers or suitors.

But you suppose you're not really any better, the person who hired said rentable boyfriend.

Though you're a bit ashamed to admit, you harbor a certain discomfort when it comes to meeting new people. And with your identity as a merchant's daughter, you've had few interactions with your schoolmates, leaving you with a shortage of friends, let alone a romantic relationship.

It was in then that you stumbled upon his listing.

And now, here you are, on your first ever date, exploring an aquarium together.

"Do you mind telling me what dates you're free?" you ask casually as you stroll towards the tropical section, bathed in the vivid hues of exotic marine life.

He trails alongside you, his presence exuding an air of calmness. "Dates...?" he muses, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Ah, you wish to see me another time, I presume?"

You cast your gaze downwards, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Yes... I would like that."

He contemplates for a moment, a hint of concern crossing his features. "Hmm... My fees are quite high you see. Your finances may suffer if you spend too much time with me."

"Hmph. You don't have to be concerned. This money has nowhere else to go anyways," you scoff.

His gaze lingers on you with a hint of curiosity, before a gentle warmth softens his features as he nods. "Very well," he murmurs, his hand reaching out to envelop yours in a tender clasp. With a delicate gesture, he presses a fleeting kiss upon the back of your hand, his voice resonating with anticipation, "I look forward to seeing you more often, my dear."

Aquarium Date ✅

First Date ✅

"You seem quite troubled by this book. Is something the matter?" Mal asked, peering over the edge of his book, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He sat across from you, textbooks and notebooks scattered between you, each page turned with a quiet reverence. The library was bathed in a soft glow, the gentle hum of whispers filling the air like a comforting melody.

You glanced up from your own notes, running a hand through your hair in a gesture of resignation. "I have a test coming up for Magic Analysis, but I always get so overwhelmed with information I forget the details."

"Magic Analysis... Perhaps you're approaching it from the wrong angle," Mal suggested, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "What if we break it down into smaller, more manageable chunks? We could create a study plan together."

The idea sparked a glimmer of hope within you, the prospect of tackling the daunting material with a structured approach feeling suddenly within reach. "That... actually sounds like a good idea," you admitted, a tentative smile forming on your lips.

"Alright," Mal began, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Shall I give you a demonstration?"

There's something to his smile that worries you slightly.

Study Date ✅

The quaint café bustled with life, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of pastries.

Mal's eyes sparkled curiously as he scanned the menu, his fingers tracing the various options with keen interest. "This place is quite charming," he remarked.

You smiled, a flutter of warmth blooming in your chest at his appreciation. "I'm glad you like it. I heard it's one of the best spots in town. Have you decided what to order?"

His brows furrow lightly. "I'm not sure... They all look quite enticing..."

"How about a parfait then? You can choose different flavours of ice cream too," you suggested, gesturing to the other page.

Malleus's gaze followed your gesture, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Ice cream, you say? That sounds delightful," he replied, a spark of childlike excitement dancing in his expression.

You couldn't help but mirror that smile.

Cute Cafe Date ✅

The night stretched out before you like an endless canvas, painted with a myriad of twinkling stars scattered across the indigo sky. Cradled in the comforting embrace of a soft blanket spread out on the grass, you lay your head gently upon Mal's shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as you gaze upwards.

"It's breathtaking..." you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquil stillness of the night.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of affection. "The sight never fails to captivate me," he responds, his voice tinged with awe. "I'm often reminded of how quickly time passes when I stargaze."

Lifting your head slightly, you steal a glimpse of his face, illuminated by the ethereal glow of the night sky. "Ah... Fae are known for their longevity, aren't they?" you remark, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of his blonde hair behind his pointed ears. "Is that part of the reason why you became a rentable boyfriend?"

He smiles ruefully. "Partly so," he admits. "My mentor suggested it as a means of broadening my perspective and gaining new experiences.

A giggle escapes your lips. What's with that? To think you're doing this for educational purposes..." you tease, though the chill of reality briefly brushes against your thoughts. "I hope you've at least had fun?"

"Absolutely." He envelops both of your hands in his own, his gaze unwaveringly earnest as it locks onto yours. "My dear, I've thoroughly enjoyed every second spent with you,"

A blush tinges your cheeks at his sincerity, and you respond softly, "It's the same for me. I had so much fun when I was with you,"

You find yourself ensnared by the ethereal presence of the man before you, his proximity stirring a flurry of emotions within you. His face, mere inches from your own, is illuminated by the soft glow of the twinkling stars, their light mirrored in the depths of his serene emerald eyes. Your heart quickens its pace, thumping so loudly in your chest that it threatens to drown out his next words.

"...Can I kiss you?"

You feel yourself nod slightly.

He tentatively closes the distance between you, his movements deliberate yet achingly tender. His hand, warm and reassuring, cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers of electricity dancing across your skin. The scent of night blossoms and distant pine trees fills your senses, mingling with the heady anticipation swirling in the air.

The kiss is tender at first, a tentative exploration of each other, as if testing the waters of this newfound intimacy. But soon, a surge of desire courses through you, fueling the passion that blooms between you. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions that sweeps you away, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by him.

The sequence of events that followed remains a hazy blur in your memory, the details shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. All you recall with clarity is Mal's familiar presence beside you as he walked you back to the imposing gates of your school hand-in-hand, just as he'd always done.

Just like clockwork, you retrieved a thick envelope from the depths of your bag, its contents weighing heavily on your mind. "Hold this," you instructed quietly.

He stared curiously at your actions. With a practiced fluidity, you extracted a handful of bills from your wallet.. With unwavering composure, you extended the money towards him, your tone devoid of sentimentality. "This is the bonus for kissing," pressing the bills into his palm.

Leaning forward on tiptoes, you planted a chaste farewell kiss upon his cheek, the gesture a stark contrast to the emotionless exchange that had just transpired. "See you next time," you murmured, before turning away.

Each clack of your heels against the pavement resonated within him like a mournful toll, echoing the hollowness that had taken root in his chest. He watched, transfixed, as the last sliver of your silhouette dissolved into the far distance, the bittersweet echoes of your footsteps fading into the twilight.

Dark, menacing clouds stretched ominously across the vast expanse of the sky, casting an eerie pall over the landscape below. Before you realised it, raindrops cascaded from the heavens in a frensied blur.

Stargazing Date✅

First Kiss ✅

The evening air was cool as he led you through the labyrinthine streets of the old city, the cobblestones whispering tales of centuries past beneath your feet. Towering above you, ancient buildings adorned with weathered stone facades loomed like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of bygone eras.

"This way," he beckoned, his voice tinged with excitement as he pulled you along into a narrow alleyway veiled in shadows.

With eager steps, you followed his lead, anticipation coursing through your veins as you delved deeper into the heart of the historic district.

"You know," you mused, breaking the silence as you walked, "when I said you could choose our next date, I never imagined it would involve a trip to the City of Flowers. Have you been here before?"

"I have," he answered. "I was invited here once. There was a magnificent festival here, but I was more interested in the gargoyles."

"The... gargoyles?" you echoed, casting an intrigued glance at the statues that adorned the buildings around you. "There do seem to be quite a few of them."

"They've watched over these buildings for centuries, warding off evil spirits and protecting those within."

"Really? That sounds fascinating," you murmured. "Would you mind telling me more?"

A smile graced his lips, his eyes gleaming with a unbridled glee. "Gladly," he agreed, his voice reverent. "Each one has a story to tell, waiting to be heard by those who seek to listen."

You listened intently as he recounted the legends surrounding these ancient sentinels, his words weaving a captivating narrative that transported you through time. As you continued your exploration of the historic buildings, he regaled you with tales of the city's storied past, his words painting vivid pictures of times long gone.

Somewhere along the line, night had descended like a comforting shroud, cloaking the city in a blanket of darkness. Now, you found yourselves strolling along the tranquil riverbank, the rhythmic lapping of the waves providing a soothing cadence to your thoughts.

Your three years of time is almost up.

Soon, you'd be back in the confines of your childhood room, the familiar walls suffocating with the promise of the same, predictable routine. Then, like a ship launched by an unforgiving wind, you'd be whisked away to wed the spouse your father had chosen, leaving behind your fleeting moments of freedom and the memories far away in your teenage years.

Mal glances sideways at you, noting the unusual quiet that had settled upon you like a shadow. "Is everything alright, my dear?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.

You pause, grappling with the weight of your impending confession, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the revelation to come.

"No... It's not," you confess, your voice faltering slightly as you let go of his hand. "Mal, this... this will be the last time I'm hiring you."

Confusion furrows his brow as he searches your eyes for clarity. "But... why?" he responds, a note of sadness creeping into his tone.

"Because..." you begin, your gaze drifting towards the glistening surface of the river, unable to withstand his earnest gaze. "Because I'm leaving Sage Island. I'll be graduating and returning home, and... and I won't require your services anymore."

"I... see."

A heavy silence descends between you, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a tangible presence. And as you continued your stroll along the riverbank, the knowledge that this would be your final night together lingered like a bittersweet farewell to the memories you had shared.

His Choice Date ✅

Breakup ✅

You've never liked riding in carriages.

With each clop of the horses' hooves, the entire contraption lurched, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It was a waltz of unease, the sway and groan of leather and wood a discordant melody against the cobblestone streets.

The confines of the cramped cabin also felt suffocating, a gilded cage that further severed your connection to your freedom. But the carriage rolled on, carrying you not just through the mountainous terrain, but towards a future you desperately wished to outrun.

Malleus Draconia was your spouse-to-be.

Throughout your school days, whispers of the famed fae prince from Night Raven College echoed in the halls. Tales spun of his unmatched prowess in Spelldrive, where he emerged victorious alone against all teams, his formidable magical abilities casting a long shadow of fear over his opponents. His towering and menacing presence, coupled with the dark horns that crowned his head, only added to the mystique that surrounded him. You could only hope that beneath this formidable exterior lay a heart capable of kindness, granting you the chance for a peaceful existence.

Though, you wouldn't say you could forgive him for having such a similar name to Mal.

As the carriage comes to a halt, the sound of hooves and wheels ceases, accompanied by a palpable sense of anticipation. With the opening of the carriage door, your guards stand at attention, their expressions solemn yet resolute. "Your Highness, we have arrived," one of them announces, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.

With a deep breath, you gather your resolve, steeling yourself for the encounter that awaits beyond the carriage doors.

Just as your foot grazes the carriage step, a gloved hand extends towards you, reaching out towards you with a graceful assurance.. You glance up to meet the gaze of your betrothed, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

His eyes are a familiar shade of emerald green. A shade that's grown to be your favourite, in fact.

"M-Mal?" you stammer, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear," he smiles, as radiant as the sun.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[thatsdemko]

super bowl - t.kelce

masterlist

requested: n

pairing: dad!travis kelce x mom!reader

warnings: established relationship + children + mentions of pregnancy + mentions of Patrick mahomes

a/n: I just wanted to write for this fine man! me writing this does not mean I’m happy the eagles lost just an fyi.

you weren’t sure how the chiefs were able to pull this game off, but they did. the whole second quarter looked like a disaster. with mahomes down, the defense playing like shit, you weren’t sure how they were going to pull it together after half time. but there you stood waiting for the ‘okay’ to go onto the field with your two kids after the chiefs won the Super Bowl.

your arms were being tugged in two different directions thanks to your son, Lucas who was five, and your daughter, Ari, who was three. the two of them had minds of their own attempting to play with other kids or chase after the opposing team players. you were growing irritated hoping the security guard would finally free you all so you could find Travis, your husband.

finally being given the okay, you herded your children straight to your husband who was searching for you three the second everyone entered the field. “Daddy!” he heard Lucas’ voice and a small body wrap around his lower half.

“daddy won!” ari reached upward and Travis took her in his arms planting a kiss on her cheek before bending down to ruffle Lucas’s ginger hair. his eyes finally landed on yours giving you a big grin and you returned it.

“congrats, champ.” you pressed a quick kiss on his lips earning some gross noises from your kids only leaving you both to roll your eyes.

this was your kids first Super Bowl fully able to remember it. Lucas was young the first time around, and Ari was barely one the last time. you couldn’t believe how much time had gone by as you watched the three of them run around the field playing the confetti.

the Lombardi was making its way around with the players, while the press snapped pictures, video footage, and even interviewed the players. you watched an interviewer approach Travis and your daughter while you watched him answer questions.

“Travis, how are you feeling right now?” you watched Ari position herself into the crook of his neck to avoid looking at the camera. it earned an ‘Aw’ from the two of them, as Travis’ hand touched the back of her head, protectively.

“I’m happy! my wife and kids are here and they couldn’t be happier to celebrate.” he gestured for you to join the interview, but you just shook your head. it was much cuter the two of them, Ari was playing with the hat on his head while he tried to focus on the question she was asking him.

“we noticed your son has drifted off to hang out with the mahomes family, who do we have here with you?” she asked, making sure the microphone wasn’t too into your daughters face as Ari turned her head to look at the camera for a second before hiding again against her dad.

“this is Ari, she’s a little camera shy. but she’s her daddy’s girl, right?” he asked earning a little nod from her before she wiggled in his arms to be free. letting her down, she ran straight to you and the camera panned over to you and her.

a couple more questions later, he was done with the interview and finally being handed the Lombardi. you watched him carefully take the trophy from Patrick, and squat down to his kids letting them both touch it.

“daddy has two of these now.” you mentioned earning a nod from Lucas, who explained to Ari about the 2020 Super Bowl—that was narrated by Travis to him for bed time stories.

“does this ever make you wish you had one more?” Travis turned his head to face your direction. an irreplaceable smile was still on his lips that just melted your heart. despite the sweaty appearance, he was still handsome.

a smirk formed on your lips watching his eyes grow with concern, “well you don’t have to wish.” you watched his eyes grow big as the news settled in his brain, he reached over pulling you into his sweaty body. you had been holding off the news since you found out just before your departure for the Super Bowl, you figured it would be a perfect surprise no matter the outcome.

“you’re pregnant?” he mouthed the words, hoping nobody caught this interaction between you two and was still stuck on your kids cuteness with the Lombardi.

nodding, you felt his lips press against your forehead, “this is the best Super Bowl win.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Between Waves and Wishes

Hii I hope you enjoy this summer romance between Charles and the reader, with her being Pierre's younger sister :)

As Pierre's little sister, you've known the Leclerc's for most of your life, from going to their races to vacationing together. You being the only girl and the youngest always sucked, that's why you skipped the last vacations together, until this one, since you've moved away for uni and your parents have insisted that you come.

A week on the beautiful coast of the south of France sounds like the perfect trip, except for the fact that you need to spend time with Charles. Charles had only grown more attractive over the years. His easy smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and the effortless charm he exuded made it impossible for you to forget the crush you harboured since childhood. But the thought of him liking you back was absurd. He was Pierre's best friend, three years older than you, and his ex-girlfriends looked like they had walked straight off a runway. You were convinced you didn’t stand a chance.

The sun hung lazily in the blue sky as the waves crashed against the rocky shore of the French Riviera. The villa was everything one could dream of—sprawling, luxurious, and perched perfectly to overlook the Mediterranean Sea. You stood on the balcony, your gaze fixed on the horizon, a vain attempt to steady the turmoil within you.

The first couple of days were relatively easy. The villa's size allowed you to avoid Charles without much effort. You busied yourself with exploring the town, taking in the quaint streets and local markets, or hiding away in your room, pretending to be engrossed in a book. But Charles, with his perceptiveness, seemed to notice your attempts at evasion.

“Hey, we missed you at dinner last night,” he said casually one morning, catching you off guard as you tried to sneak out to the beach.

You forced a smile. “I wasn’t feeling too well. Didn’t want to spoil the fun.”

He frowned, concern etching his features. “Are you alright now?”

“Yeah, just needed some rest.”

His eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to read between the lines. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, turning away before your resolve could crumble under his gaze.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid him. He seemed to be everywhere—on the terrace when you went for a morning coffee, by the pool when you sought solace in the sun, and even in the kitchen when you attempted a late-night snack. Each encounter was filled with a mix of awkward small talk and lingering glances, making your heart ache with unspoken words.

Midweek, a storm rolled in, forcing everyone to stay indoors. You found refuge in the library, nestled in a corner with a book. The rain pelted against the windows, a fitting backdrop to your internal chaos. You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Charles enter the room until he spoke.

“Mind if I join you?”

You looked up, startled. “It’s a free country.”

He took a seat across from you, his presence overwhelming the space. For a while, silence stretched between you, only the sound of rain filling the void.

“Why are you avoiding me?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insisted, leaning forward. “Did I do something to upset you?”

The genuine concern in his eyes made it hard to keep up the facade. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” he pressed.

You closed your book, setting it aside. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” His gaze never wavered.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

The words hung in the air between you. You wanted to spill everything, to tell him how much it hurt to be around him, knowing you could never have him. But the fear of rejection, of ruining the fragile balance, kept you silent.

Charles leaned back, his expression softening. “I’ve missed you, you know. You used to come a lot to our races and you've missed a few vacations.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t be that way again.”

You looked away, the pain too raw. “Things change, Charles.”

“They don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Not if we don’t want them to.”

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes almost too much to bear. “You don’t understand,” you whispered. “You’ll never see me the way I see you.”

He was silent for a moment, then stood up and walked over to you. He knelt down, taking your hand in his. “And how do you see me?”

Your breath caught in your throat. This was it. The moment of truth. “I see you as someone I could never have,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “Someone who could never want me the way I want them.”

His grip on your hand tightened, his eyes locked on yours. “What if you’re wrong?”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

“What if I’ve been feeling the same way all this time?” His voice was low, steady. “What if I’ve wanted to be with you, but I held back because I thought you saw me only as Pierre’s friend?”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Could it really be true? “But… your exes… they’re nothing like me. You always seemed to go for—”

“People who weren’t you,” he interrupted gently. “Because being with someone else was easier than facing how I felt about you.”

“But Pierre—”

“Pierre wants you to be happy,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know it won’t be easy, but I can’t keep pretending anymore. I don’t want to.”

Your heart ached with hope and fear in equal measure. “What if this changes everything?”

“It will,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t have to be for the worse.”

You swallowed hard, the enormity of the moment crashing down on you. “Charles, I don’t know if I can risk losing Pierre’s trust.”

“He’s your brother, and he loves you. He’ll understand.” Charles’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I love you. I’ve loved you for so long.”

The words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. It was everything you’d ever wanted to hear, yet the fear of the unknown still gnawed at you. But looking into Charles’s eyes, you saw the truth, the sincerity, and the depth of his feelings.

You took a deep breath. “I love you too,” you whispered, the words feeling like a release.

His face lit up with a joy that made your heart soar. He stood, gently pulling you to your feet and wrapping his arms around you. The warmth of his embrace felt like home, and you melted into him, all the doubts and fears dissolving in his hold.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “We’ll figure it out together,” he murmured.

You nodded, your heart full. “Together.”

His lips met yours in a kiss that was tender and sweet, filled with all the years of longing and unspoken feelings. It was a promise, a beginning, and an end to the doubts that had plagued you.

As the rain continued to patter against the windows, you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[artsyanapink]

GANONDORF X READER

I was in hospital for 30 hours and had to start writting the smut part while I was on morphine. Really great decision... 👍 Anyway it's my first Ganon fanfiction so I hope I wrote the character well. I Imagined Ganon in Hyrule Warrior while writting this.

Warnings: SMUT Dubcon (kinda, I just want to be dominated by that man 😳), lust potion and use of force (I like things kinky and hard sorry not sorry) I ain't into villains and bad guys acting like puppies, so don't expect fluffy stuff. He's a bad guy. Not the Demon King for nothing.

On AO3 as well

It's being three years since Hyrule fell. Three years since the castle darkened. There was no sight of the princess anywhere after the king falls. Rumors has it that an evil Gerudo man took the place of the late king and that was the reason why the sun was never in the sky, replace by black clouds, especially close to the castle.

You were always taking a walk in the shopping district of the castle, taking in the songs of the birds and the voices of marchands urging people to buy their stocks. Everything, you would buy it there. But not anymore.

With no more exchanges between the four cities, there was nothing to buy in Hyrule. It was a dead place no matter where you lay your eyes upon. You had to go by feet in Goron city for the spices, Zora domain for the fishes, Rito village for arrows, sugar canes as well as oil and Gerudo town for the fruits. Only apples were growing close to your home and it was getting dimmer and dimmer.

You made plan to get to one place each five days since the travelling was taking you two and a half. One if you were lucky to not incountered monsters lurking.

Today you would be going to Gerudo town to restock. You didn't dare go for some days after hearing more beasts were in the region. Hopefully today it would be calm. You changed for the heat while hiding your head from the gust of sand that were frequent and made your way to the town.

You knew you were closer when the dried grass started disappearing and the rocks made their presence known with their massiveness. They were huge. So big that they curved in the center, almost hiding the sun for any light to go through. And no sunlight in the Gerudo desert meant a chilling cold. Fortunately your clothes were warm enough to support the drop of temperature.

It wasn't warm enough however to keep you from the chill that went all the way through your spine. It seemed darker despite the sun hidden already and the shadow casted next to you gave you the affirmation you weren't alone. With small steps, you turned face to face with a enormous horse. His skin as black as charcol and his mane like fire. Your breath stucked in your throat when you saw the rider.

Ganondorf.  

You would prefer being embushed by ten bokoblins than with this devil. You had at least a chance of getting away with the first.

"What is a girl like you doing here at night?" His gruff voice made the hair on your body stand as his eyes stared at you in the darkness.

You didn't like the attention on you like this, especially from this type of person. You stepped back, hoping to skirt around the man. "Nothing that concern you, sir." But he moved his horse in your way, halting you as the animal tapped its left hoof angrily with a whinny. You almost tripped at its actions.

"I insist." Ganondorf got down his mount, the clacking of his metal armor resonating in the silence as he made his way to you. He felt something special about you and despite having his doubt about a mere hylian, he would get to the bottom of this. Just like the animal was, the man was huge. Some hair escaped from the shawl on your head, his own red free in the wind. "I think you know who I am."

"I really do not know." You wished he would leave you alone. Ganondorf was gorgeous in your opinion, yes, but a danger. An evil being. It wasn't recommend to mess or less talk with him.

He gritted his teeth. "Do not lie to me, little girl." He grasped your wrist forcefully and you let out a painful whine. "Lying to me is like spitting on my face. Showing dirrespect will get you nowhere." Your body struggled against his hold, profanities leaving your lips every second for him. His eyes widened suddendly when a light blind the both of you, but not enough for the man to losen his grip. "That mark—" A twisted smile appeared on his face at the middle triangle glowing on the back of your hand. "So the legend is true. It does exist."

Confused and scared, you didn't falter your movements. "What are you talking about?" Your eyes met, the claws of his armor leaving a gasp from you. "Let me go!"

"I can't do that now with you in possession of something so important." There was a pregnant pause as his eyes gazed over your form. "You could still proved useful after I've taken it." Your brows furrowed in confusion at his words.

"What—"

Ganondorf reached for the glow with one hand while the other was still holding you in mid-air. It felt like he was piercing your skin and you screamed, the light around you growing bigger. By the time the light dismished, your body fell limp. The triangle that was on your hand turned grey, getting a scoff from the man. He smirked nonetheless knowing he was closer to get the power he wanted and deserved.

"Just two more."

•°•°•

Your sleep was over when you were throw on something soft. The action making your body bounced and mind alert. The hair on your skin rose up when your eyes made out a figure.

How long was he there?

"Look who decided to finally wake up." He sneered. You jumped from the bed but a yelp left your mouth when you were held back, tangling on the side of the bed. A gold chain was on your ankle, great.

Your eyes glared at him after colliding with the bedpost. Anything to be far from him although you knew inside that wouldn't stop this monster. "You got what you want Ganondorf. Why am I still here?"

The man chuckled darkly. "Feisty, aren't we?" He started to take off his armor, only the armsets with the claws staying. When he turned around however, red flood on your face. He already seemed built but without a top? The man was buff with muscles, red chest hair contrasting with his skin color. Your eyes broke from the sight immediately, hoping the Gerudo didn't see that.

But, oh, he did. "Enjoying the view small one?" Ganondorf threw the armor far while approaching your form dangerously. His eyes slit, challenging you to lie to him again and that shut you up. It only left you angry at yourself for finding this evil king attractive.

"You will stay here to keep me compagny and do as I say. Better started getting obediant now."

Keeping him compagny? "So now I am your pet?" You murmured unhappy, yanking the chain in resilience.

Ganondorf smirked devilishly, lookind down at you. He sounded condescending. "If you want to call it that way, pet." He emphasized the last word. "But you will watch your mouth soon enough."

"Or what?"

The door knocked suddenly, catching you on guard at who it might be. However, by the smile widening on the Gerudo man, you weren't excited to know. A sheikah entered the room. They look at you briefly and then at him. "Lord Ganondorf, I had found what you requested." The sheikah bowed down, giving the man a vial filled with red liquid.

Ganondorf didn't even look their way, his amber eyes on the vial with a twisted expression. "You're still being loyal after all these years, Sheik. I'm surprised."

"I follow whoever is the enemy of the royal family."

"That'll be all." The Sheika left in a puff of smoke.

"What is that?" Your voice was hoarse from the anxiousness, your gaze between the vial and the man.

"Something to keep you in line. It will bring great excitement to you, don't worry." The Gerudo man thugged the chain toward him, resulting in your body sliding to the end of the bed like a doll. It's like you weight nothing. It got a yelp from you and a booming laugh from him. He gripped the ties harder, bringing your face closer to his after the man crouched. "Open wide." But your mouth stayed close. Ganondorf growled at your disobience, irritated. "Don't start again, girl." He grabbed your cheeks and pressed with his armored claws digging into the skin. "Drink."

You finally let go after looking at him. The liquid ran down your troat. Instantately you felt hot and lighthead. "That fast huh?"

You couldn't keep your eyes off Ganondorf, your silent attraction reavealing itself so easily. "I feel strange."

He positionned himself on top of you, chest in full view. "You understand the effects do you, princess?" That nickname was new but it didn't bother you much as it turned you on more instead. Ganondorf cut the clothes with the sharp tip before grazing your nipples, eliciting a loud moan from you. Your voice ragged and reaching for air. The man continued to massage your breasts. "How does it feels?"

"You bastard—AH!"

He smirked triumphally while sucking the sensitive part. His tongue was hot and moving fast against your nipple. Your breath quickened at the attention your body was receiving. You hate that you love this. "Don't stop..." You whimpered, hiding your face with your hand.

"What was that girl?" You were interrupted by his hand caressing your lower parts. "Mh." Ganondorf gazed down a moment, his grin larger. "You're enjoying this quite a lot I see." The squishing sound of your garment and the juices were making you even more embarrassed.

"Just...." You try to ignore his eyes lingering on you. "Please continue..."

"Certainly princess."

Your lower body was naked as the air caressed your pussy. The man didn't struggle to take off partly his robe, revealing his member pulsing in front of you. Your pupils dilated and your mouth opened. "It won't fit—"

Ganondorf hands grabbed you easily by the hips, putting you on his lap, just over his member. Your owns instantly placed on his shoulders to create distance. "You were so excited to continue this little game." His voice resonated in your ears like honey, earning another whimper.

"I—"

His armored hand grabbed your cheekbones with power while you watched him with a mixture of lust and fear. "I'm in charge here girl. Don't command me, a king."

The intrusion was sudden but weirdly not as painful as you had thought. Maybe because your juices were flowing and cascading down the interior of your thighs. "That's it." He groaned silently, closing his eyes. The man's hands moved to your waist, applying more force before bringing your down again.

Your gasps filled the room. You were shaking. "It's too much! I'm too filled!"

"Perfect." Ganondorf replied and smacked his hips into you repeatively. He grabbed your hair from behind, another moan leaving your lips in exctasy. "You're mine to keep." He rolled his pelvis, touching new parts inside you that made you see stars. "Your power is mine. All of you—" He growled, changing position so you were now crouched on top of him, his arms snaking around your body and entering deeper than he had previously. "Is mine."

Your eyes rolled to the back, tongue out and sweat running down your body. "More....More please." You whimpered, shaking.

The movement stopped suddenly as his grip on you losened. You watched him with confusion and despair. You were so close! "Why are you stopping?" Your hands were on his pecks, his breathing moving your whole body to the ryththm.

"Oh, don't worry, princess. We are far from finished." He explained smugly. You were roughly switched on your stomach, your eyes half-lidded from the potion and the pleasure. Ganondorf fondled with your buttcheeks and you were vocal again after metal slapped the flesh.

"Ah!"

The man hips collided with your back, the new intrusion farther inside you. He gripped one arm, arching your body towards him while the other hand rest on the redened flesh. "How do you feel?" He huffed, his pelvis either creating round movements or entering forcefully, eliciting shocks across your body. "I sense your lust from your part of the triforce." He groaned, slapping harder but slower.

"I can't feel like this—I can't—" You mumbled inconherently and before you knew it, white filled your vision.

You rested there on the bed, panting and disheveled as Ganondorf looked over at you one last time then left the room laughing with an evil smile on his lips.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 25

Holy crap I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to get out. I'm still trying to get over my slump, but hopefully, it'll be dead and gone soon.

I really hope you enjoy this! Our reader and Mihawk are finally doing the deed!

Warnings! SMUT SMUT SMUT hopefully thats all i need to say lol.

Masterlist

You freeze above Mihawk. Did he want to have sex with you? Right now? The thought makes snow spout and shower around you, dropping the temperature of the room by several degrees.

It's not that you don't want to. You do! But you've never had sex before, and you don't think your books do a very good job of explaining the concept. Your silence must have stretched for too long. You feel Mihawk tighten his hold, and his voice is full of concern when he speaks up, though you can still hear desperation wrapped around every word.

“We don't have to, Darling, but I have desired you for so long, and my patience is growing thin,” the warlord had wanted you for a long time, but he could wait longer if you wished. No one could ever say he wasn’t a gentleman.

“O-of course I want you!” You blurt before Mihawk can take his offer back or something equally silly again, “I want to have sex. I want to feel you, too.”

You lick your lips in thought, trying to figure out how to explain to Dracule. You're nervous, of course. This was a big step for you, but you trusted Mihawk to do this right.

Hawkeye watches you closely, seeing your nerves come in and make it hard for you to think. He's seen this happen before, and it would not be the first time Mihawk has pulled you out of your head, but he only smiles gently up at his angel and squeezes your hips to catch your attention. The warlord had no complaints about walking his dear one through what was to happen.

“Would it make you feel better if I explained everything as we go?”

You consider the offer and find that the thought of Mihawk explaining his actions makes you feel better, so you nod and squeeze his shoulders, “Yeah, I think I'd like that.”

Dracule gives you a nod, and he starts up those soothing strokes along your hips again. The most important thing here was to keep you comfortable. There was no joy or pleasure in the act of sex when his partner was not secure in the situation. You, above all else, deserved that from him, “Do you want to start now?”

‘Yes,” you whisper, eyes locked with Mihawk's molten gaze as he smirks in satisfaction.

The warlord moves silently, rolling the two of you over until your back is pressed into the mattress. His fingers find the edge of your sleep shirt, playing with the hem of the soft material, “I'm going to take this off now.”

You nod, sitting up to help him. Mihawk flings it to the floor, and then he looks down to admire the perky breasts in front of him. You look radiant in the low light of the bedroom, and the wine he had earlier makes him burn even hotter for you. He reaches out, tweaking your left nipple harshly while his free hand smooths up to gently cup the side of your neck. You watch him through lidden eyes, lips caught between your teeth as you shiver from the twinge of pleasure.

“So sensitive, sweet thing,” Mihawk croons and tweaks your nipple again with a content sigh, “You’ve had my fingers inside of your cunt before, remind me how many?”

“Th-three,” you stutter out and flush at the reminder. It shouldn’t make you blush so much still considering at least one of the days Mihawk or Shanks stays while here is solely dedicated to exploring your body. They were both givers, but now and then, they would be selfish for your mouth around their dick.

“Such a good girl for remembering,” Mihawk murmurs and sits back, devious fingertips leaving your throat and breasts to trail down your stomach and pluck at the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, “Lift your hips, dear.”

You do as you're told, lifting your hips, and Dracule snags both your shorts and the soft cotton undies you wear. After he flings them to the floor, Mihawk leans up and grabs the pillow that’s been designated as Shanks’ and pats your hip, “One more time.”

The warlord slips the pillow under your hips, adjusting it until you assure him that you are comfortable, “This will make penetration easier, though the angle will let me go deeper,” Mihawk warns, and you give a slow nod, showing him that were paying attention.

Like this, you are fully exposed to him, and Mihawk takes his time to lavish your legs with attention. Smoothing his hands down to your ankles and massages your muscles. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing the inside of your knee and making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. Hawkeye smirks against your skin and does it again before suddenly digging his teeth in and making you shout.

Before you can protest, the warlord soothes the bite with a swipe of his tongue and a kiss to the imprints of his teeth. It would not be the last mark he would leave on your skin tonight. You were a canvas, and he was determined to paint you the way he saw fit.

Mihawk lawyers your leg only to bring up the other one, kissing along your ankle and up your knee, giving it the same attention as the other. He kisses the inner part of your knee just to hear you giggle before he moves up, sucking bruises into the plush skin of your inner thighs.

Dracule and Shanks always impress upon you that they wanted you to tell them what felt good, even if you didn’t use words to express yourself. The way your body arced and strained for Mihawk’s touch spoke volumes of how much he affected you. You whine when the awful man licks down your thigh and to the apex of your legs.

Mihawk greets your pussy like an old friend, tongue swirling through your folds and then up to wrap around your clit, sucking gently and you spread your legs for him, sighing and tossing an arm over your eyes. You leak around his tongue, cunt quivering, and you are so so close, but then the warlord is pulling back and reaching forward to toss your arm off your face.

“You need to be properly wet and stretched before I fuck you,_,” Dracule explains, and smirks at your frustrated look. He ignores it, for now, tonight would not be one for his darker desires and sits back between your thighs, one hand maneuvering one of your legs back on his shoulder, “I want you to watch me.”

You angle yourself, sitting up on your arms to be able to get a proper view of Mihawk's actions, and the devious man rewards you by placing a soft kiss to your calf, “Do me a favor, sweet thing, and slick these up for me.”

Mihawk presses his middle and ring fingers to your lips, and you open up without thought, groaning when the warlord stuffed your mouth with the digits. He presses down on your tongue, and saliva pools in your mouth, coating his fingers before he releases the pressure to gently slide them in and out past the ring of your lips. His eyes track the way your throat works, memorizing the sight and storing it away safely.

Properly slick, Dracule slips his fingers from your mouth, and then slides them through the folds of your pussy, and the combined mess of spit and slick causes embarrassing and lewd sounds to fill the room.

“I'm going to put my finger inside you, now,” Mihawk murmurs quietly. His middle finger finds your entrance, and you watch, lips caught between your teeth as he sinks his finger inside you, all the way down to the knuckle.

You keen at the intrusion, cunt tightening and walls fluttering as Mihawk sets a steady pace, soon adding the other soaked digit and making you hiss at the slight stretch.

The warlord looms over You, bending your body until the stretch is nearly too much. He bends, balancing on his knees as his free hand captures your jaw and brings his angel in for a kiss. Mihawk, the impressive man, matches his kissing how he fucks you with his fingers, lips pulling at your own and sliding his tongue past your lips to give you a taste of yourself.

Mihawk loves the sounds that you make for him, and if wasn't getting so impatient to feel your cunt around his dick, he would take longer to pull them from you. However, his cock is straining against his sleep pants and staining the soft material with precum. It's almost painful in the way it throbs, and Dracule is desperate for relief.

He breaks the kiss, and you fall back, head hitting the pillow, and you gasp for precious oxygen. You moan when his thumb finds your clit, and Mihawk runs harsh circles into the nub. You shudder under him, legs shaking and hands digging so tightly into the sheets that you fear you'll rip them. You leak around his knuckles, and confusion settles over your flushed face when he pulls his fingers free.

Mihawk shoves his sleep pants down, and he hisses when the cool air touches his dick. He is painfully hard, and he grasps the base, scooting forward to rub the head of his cock through your folds, “I'm going to put it in. Are you ready?”

Dracule watches the way your pupils dilate, eyes shining with lust and you nod jerkily, tongue coming out to wet your lips, “Please fuck me, Mihawk.”

The warlord doesn't need to be told twice, and shifts forward, head of his cock sliding inside your waiting cunt. Mihawk curses, brows furrowing at how fucking tight you are. He pauses there, allowing you to adjust to his size, and only slips deeper when you give him a soft okay.

It takes a bit, but soon, Dracule bottoms out, heavy balls presses flush to your sensitive skin and causing him to groan. He stays still, teeth clenched as your walls flutter and pulse around him, dragging him deeper into your stuffed cunt.

“Y-you can move, now,” your voice, thick with unshed tears and pleasure rocked him, and with a low snarl, Mihawk rocked forward, before pulling out half way just to sink back inside. You whine, head thrown back and Dracule looks down to take in the way your pussy sucks him down perfectly.

Mihawk sets a steady pace, hips snapping forward. His hands find your hips, fingertips digging in and most likely leaving marks as he speeds up, cock dragging along your walls, and leaving you a cursing mess.

Everything felt overwhelming, oversensitive, over everything. You've always enjoyed the way Mihawk's devious fingers stretch you out, but having his cock open you up was something incredible. You angle your hips, pressing back into his thrusts, and your eyes blow wide when his dick shoved into that spongy spot deep inside. Dracule does it again, and you wail, hands finding his shoulders to hold on for dear life as he abuses that spot inside of you.

“That's it, sweet thing,” Mihawk hisses above you and leans down, bending you up and pressing your knees into the mattress beside your head. The angle is even better this way, and you look down to watch the way Dracule pistons in and out of your cunt. Mihawk can tell that you are close by the way you keep clenching around him, and he smooths one hand from your hip, thumb finding your clit and pressing down just enough that it ends you over the edge.

Dracule curses, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as you come undone, gushing around the warlord so much that slick leaks past your folds to stain your inner thighs. He doesn't stop, pace steadying out as he fucks you through your first orgasam. He leans in, sealing his lips to yours in a kiss that leaves you crying for more.

Mihawk delivers, sending you over the edge twice more and soaking the sheets in sweat and juices. He has shifted, lowering your legs and slowing to a gentle pace that purposely ruts into your sweet spot. He is close, balls tight and swollen as he slides in and out of your slick hole. The two of you are tangled together, legs intertwined with one of your arms tossed around his neck to keep him close.

“I'm close, Angel,” Mihawk rumbles and presses his face in the crook of your neck to breathe you in, “Can I come inside you?”

Just the thought of being able to feel Dracule pulse and paint your inside was enough to send shivers all over your body. You nod, kissing the side of his face, “Yes.”

Mihawk nods once, and then he switches to a faster, more erratic pace. His rhythm is off, and it makes you feel powerful to see such a beautiful man come undone because of you. It's enough to make you clench around him again, your body wringing out one last orgasam for him. That tension breaks, and Dracule groans your name as he finishes.

You feel him come inside you, scorching semen splashing your walls and filling you to the brim. The combined fluids of your juices and his cum leak around his cock, and the amount that pools under you when he pulls out is obscene.

The two of you lay there panting, and it takes Mihawk longer than he would have thought to move. He rises carefully, moving off you and the bed. He stumbles to the bathroom and retrieves a wet rag, first cleaning himself and his thighs before loping back to the bedroom to clean you up.

Mihawk crawls back in the bed with you, body work and mind tired as he wraps you up in his arms. You snuggle into his chest, pressing your face into the muscles there and sighing heavily. He strokes your back and kisses the top of your head, “Are you okay?”

You nod against him, kissing his chest delicately, “I'm fine. I really liked it.”

Mihawk smirks at your admission, pride making him smirk and puff up like a bird. You snicker at him and then yawn loudly, eyes closing. You feel satisfied, body sore in the best ways. You feel him press a kiss to your hair, “Good, now get some rest, Angel.”

You definitely don't need to be told twice, and it takes less than a minute for you to drop off to sleep, your light snores already filling the room.

Dracule follows after you, holding you tight and not planning on ever letting his precious angel go. You are his, mind, body, and soul.

-----------

The next morning, Mihawk gets up and leaves long enough to go to the bathroom and draw a bath. Your tub is large enough to fit both of them, though it would be a tight squeeze. He ensures the temperature is just on the right side of hot before he lopes back to the bedroom.

However, before he can slip back inside, he hears the sound of your snail transponder going off, and there was only one other person beside himself that had your number. He quickly answers it before the ringing can wake you up.

Ca-lick

“Yoo do know that it is an ungodly hour to be calling, don't you, Red?” Mihawk sneers over the phone.

“Awee, Hawkeye, so you do miss me,” Shanks sounds delighted to hear from the other man, and it brings a reluctant smile to Mihawk's face.

“You shouldn't put words in my mouth,” Mihawk sniffs and knows it's the wrong thing to say when Shanks snickers over the receiver.

“Heh, I got something you can put in your mouth.”

The sigh that escapes him is long and world weary, but he had walked straight into that one, “You are terrible, Red.”

Shanks laughs on the other side again, “You know it, Baby.”

He continues before Mihawk can make a snarky quip, “Anyway, I called to let you know that I'm about a day and a half out from the island.”

“_, will be happy to see you,” Mihawk tells him, and even across the sea, he can feel the joy that the Emperor wears like a blanket, “So will I.”

Shanks hums on the other side, and his voice is full of warm affection, “I'll be there as soon as I can, Baby. I miss the two of you, too.”

Mihawk feels his face grow hot at the sincerity, and he is glad that he is alone in the living room, “Be safe, Shanks.”

The other man assures Mihawk that he will be and then ends the call. Dracule hums to himself and then turns to lope back to the bedroom.

Inside, you are still curled up on your side, your arm tucked under one of your pillows, and Mihawk admires the curve of your body in the low light of the room. A smirk slides across his lips when he sees how swollen your cunt is, and he recalls with a sigh how beautifully you clenched around him as you came around his cock.

The warlord kneels on the bed beside you, hands finding your shoulders to push you to your back. He looms over You, leaning down to press sweet kisses to your cheek and then to your lips.

You wake up with a groan at all the commotion, eyes cracking open to see the sight of Mihawk holding himself up above you, “G’morning.”

Dracule hums at your greeting, pulling away to look down at you with a quirk of his lips, “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

You stretch in bed, sighing when your body protests, back popping, and you reach for Mihawk, twining your fingers with his own, “Sore, but good.”

The warlord nods, and brings you hand up to kiss along your knuckles and then gently tugs you, “Come, I've run us a bath.”

Being clean sounds incredible, so you don't protest and go scoot to the edge of the bed. Mihawk stops you, and then bends, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

You giggle at the sweet treatment, head resting against his shoulder as Mihawk shoves the door open. He shuts it back before Hank or Sukuna could sneak in and carefully begins to lower you into the steaming water. It feels divine against your chilled skin and you gladly sink lower.

Mihawk tells you to shift forward, and he lowers himself behind you, pulling you back into his chest and splaying his legs on either side of your own, bracketing you in. It's nice to just enjoy his company, and you hum one of your favorite songs as you trace random patterns on his chest.

Dracule relaxes against the edge of the tub, hands finding your thighs to gently trail his fingers back and forth. The touch sends shivers up your spine, and you turn to kiss his chest.

“Shanks will be here in the next day or so. He called earlier,” Mihawk murmurs and the news brings a smile to your face. His hands splay wide, fingertips dipping down to the apex of your thighs, “He will want you, too.”

You flush, arousal already curling low in your stomach. You wonder how Shanks will want you, if he will be rough with you, selfish and taking like he is with everything else.

“What about you?” You ask quietly, and you can hear the mischievous tone that paints his voice when Dracule speaks up.

“Me? I'm going to enjoy the show."

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax

[crazyunsexycool]

Between the pages of a journal

Pairing: Stucky x 40s!Reader

Summary: You had been in a relationship with Steve and Bucky up until the time they went off to war only to lose them both. Years later when Steve and Bucky have reunited the receive the letters and journals you had written. Through them they learn about your life without them.

word count: 6.0k

Warnings: character death, the blip/snap, implied domestic violence, major angst, some fluff... let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: Not really sure how I feel about the ending but over all I loved writing this and I hope you like it too.

Steve stood with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands as he looked down at the slightly dirty headstone. One that sat towards the back of the small cemetery with your name on it. His fingers trace over your name after placing the flowers down. The date of your death mocks him. It was the day he woke up. The day that he had come back to life was the day yours had ended. In fact the difference had only been a few hours from the time that you closed your eyes for the last time and the time he opened his. 

On good days Steve was grateful for that. You didn’t have to watch him walk back into your life looking as he did all those years ago while you were stuck in a bed, withering away. Wishing you had been able to live the life they had both promised you. On bad days he hated he didn’t get to say goodbye. But he had already been through the process of seeing someone he loved die when Bucky fell off the train. He wasn’t sure he would be able to do that with you. It had been you who begged him not to go. The fear in your eyes when Bucky got his orders still haunts him and it doubled when he told you he had been accepted. Now all that Steve has is the headstone with your name on it to grieve for both of his greatest loves. And he did it often.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope. 

Something Steve hadn’t felt in a long time. It bloomed in his chest the longer he looked at his long lost love. But just as quickly it faded.

“Bucky?” Steve stood in the middle of the street. Chaos erupting all around as he looked at the brunette with confusion and concern. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” 

Just as quickly as he was there, Bucky was gone. Steve tried to look for him but there was no use. He had been arrested along with Nat and Sam. 

If there was one single word to describe Steve Rogers at the moment it would be determined. As much as it hurt that his oldest friend and lover didn’t recognize him. Steve knew he had to save Bucky. If not for him than for you. It was one of the promises he made to you the morning he left. He would keep Bucky safe and they would come back home to you. At least now he could keep half of the promise. 

The next time Steve would see Bucky it would be in a helicarrier. Blow by blow Steve tried to remind Bucky of who he was, what they meant to each other. In the end Bucky walked away after saving Steve. Still it was better knowing he was out and free than knowing that he was still under hydra’s control. 

It would take some time but eventually Steve would find Bucky once again. With time and help, Bucky was free of hydra’s control and they slowly rebuilt their relationship. Soon Bucky began to remember you as well. 

Now Steve didn’t feel so lost or so alone. The ache of loss was still there but it was made easier when he was able to turn in bed and find Bucky asleep next to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were many things Bucky and Steve needed to adjust to in the modern times they were now living in. Being able to love each other without fear of being persecuted was a liberating experience. So they found themselves walking hand in hand on a beautiful Saturday afternoon through a small park in Brooklyn. The same park that the three of you frequented when you didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

You always packed a picnic and your journal, Bucky always had a new book to read out loud and Steve always had his sketchbook and pencils. There was one specific tree the three of you preferred to sit under. It was close to a small pond with the best shade and it was surrounded by bushes which afforded you the privacy the three of you craved.

 While to the outside world it looked like you were being chaperoned by Steve while on a date with Bucky, the reality was that you were dating them both. This little corner of the park allowed the three of you to be free to love, touch and kiss each other as you wished. 

It was this tree that provided cover for the three of you so long ago that Steve and Bucky came to look for now. Where Bucky carved your initials in the trunk within a heart. They hoped the tree was still there and they were gladly surprised that it was, initials included. The only difference though was the fact that there was a wrought iron bench in the once cleared space. Steve and Bucky make their way over.

“Y/N, would have loved to have a bench here.” Steve commented as he sat down. 

Bucky hummed in agreement as he inspected the small plaque screwed into the armrest. 

“Steve, look at this.” 

The blond leans over to look at the inscription. His breath catches in his throat.

‘Til the end of the line. 

A couple of tears hit the small plaque. Steve’s chin rests on Bucky’s shoulder and his arm wraps around the latter’s waist. They both just take a moment to look at it and appreciate that you had taken time and money to have this placed here in their honor. It felt like fate mocked them now that it was them that used this bench to remember you. For the remainder of their time in that park Steve and Bucky talk about their past, especially about you. 

“Remember when she chased Tommy Phillips down the street with a broom?” Steve chuckled but it took Bucky a moment before he smiled.

“He kept following her home, right? Always tried to ask her out whenever we weren’t there to walk with her.” 

“She ran right by me and only stopped because that cop was on the corner.”

Their smiles fade after a moment. 

“I wish she were here. She would definitely love all this shit.” Bucky said as he waved his hand around vaguely. 

Steve moved closer and gave Bucky a quick chaste kiss on the cheek before resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. The blond took a deep breath before looking up at his love through his lashes. 

“It’s rude to stare.” 

“Well it’s not my fault you’re handsome.” Steve’s compliment makes Bucky blush. 

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” 

“What is it?” 

“I think it’s time we go see her. I know she’ll want to see you.” 

Bucky looked up at him with a pained expression.

“What if she hates me?”

“She would never. She’s called me everyday since she heard you were alive.” 

“Ok, we’ll go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure I look ok?” Bucky asked as the couple stood in front of a door waiting for someone to answer their knocks. 

“You look great baby, and trust me she’ll just be happy to see you.” 

Steve had cupped Bucky’s face with his hands and leaned in to give him a kiss. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” 

They parted at the voice.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” 

“I can say the same about you James.”

A staring contest happened until Bucky looked down.

“I’ve missed you, Becca.” Bucky said as he looked at his younger yet older sister. She was shorter and her hair was fully gray. The wrinkles were evidence of the time that had passed but the mischievous glint in her eyes told a different story. 

She opened her arms and her brother gladly accepted the embrace. 

It had been a shock to Bucky to learn that he had one living relative. Well one living sister, he of course knew of the kids all three of his sisters had but he couldn’t seek them out. Mostly for safety but truly he kept his distance because of his guilt. Who would want someone like him in their family? 

When they finally pull away from each other in a hug that felt that lasted years and seconds at the same time, Becca cupped Bucky’s cheek softly. Her thumb moved back and forth on his cheek as he leaned into her touch. This time her eyes were full of tears and relief.

“I’ve missed you too. Now come in, we have so much to talk about.” She had grabbed Bucky’s hand like she did when she was younger and they had to cross the street. 

They made their way into Becca’s cozy living room and sat down. Steve took the armchair while Bucky and Becca sat together on the couch. The latter started telling both of them everything they missed after they had disappeared, from meeting her late husband to her children and grandchildren. There were tears and laughs exchanged. 

“I think we should head out Becs. But I’ll come by again soon.” Bucky promised as they all got up and headed towards the door. 

“You’re both welcome anytime.” 

They stop at the door, Bucky and then Steve hug Becca. Before the door is opened Becca speaks up again.

“Oh I can’t believe I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Becca shuffled along into the hallway and opened a door to a closet. “I’ll need your help Buck.” 

He walks up behind her and she points towards two boxes high up on a shelf. Bucky pulls the first one down and hands it over to Steve before grabbing the second one. 

“What’s in here?” Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Letters and journals. They all belonged to Y/N. She wrote the letters whenever she missed you and you know she wrote in her journals all the time.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and then back at Becca.

“Why did you keep them?” 

“Because she asked me too. The day she passed, I was with her and she asked me if I could hold on to them. Maybe someone would want to know about the love she had for both of you. It broke my heart when it was announced you were back.” She turned to Steve. “She would have loved to see you one last time.” 

“What happened to her?” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask earlier.” 

“We never stop thinking about her but it hurts to know she isn’t here anymore.” Steve says with a sad smile.

“When we were informed that you were both gone she was a wreck. Ma forced her to move in with us so that we could be there for her. She would stay up in your room for hours just writing. We could hear Y/N crying for hours on end. This was just her way of coping.”

Both men thanked her again and they were gone. On their way to their shared apartment in Brooklyn they didn’t really talk, each of them holding a box under their arm. It was heavier than anything they’ve carried in the past. It was all that was left of you.

They didn’t know it yet but their heart would break with every single letter or entry of your journal they read.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 10th, 1945

My love,

I received your letter last night. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. You know Bucky wouldn’t blame you, and neither do I. But please, if not for yourself than for me, take care of yourself. I don’t care that you have that serum, don't do anything reckless. We’ve already lost Bucky, I don’t know if I’d be able to live knowing I lost you too. 

I know you think the Barnes’ hate you but they don’t, they’re just as worried about you as they were about their son. They know how much we love Bucky and they can’t wait for you to come back home. 

I love you so much. I can’t wait to see you again.

Love, 

Y/N

P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.

Steve tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat, the tears won as they slowly trailed down his cheek and onto the aged paper. It was a response to the letter he had sent you, telling you about Bucky’s death. He felt so much guilt then, still did from time to time. Once Bucky was free of hydra’s hold he reassured Steve he wasn’t to blame. 

Steve was sure you’d blame him too. But the return to sender stamp with the date on the envelope the letter had gotten to him too late. It was just a day after he had crashed the plane into the ocean. Now decades later you gave him peace. Somehow he felt that it wasn’t fair. 

That night Bucky held Steve close. Placing soft kisses on his cheek and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Normally when they didn’t have missions or early training both men loved to stay in bed, pretend the time they were living in wasn’t real, that you’d walk in through the door at any moment and take your place in between them. That your lips would search for theirs and your hands would roam their bodies as gently but demanding as they did before. 

This time when Steve woke up the spot next to him was empty. He got up and walked toward the living room, the closer he got the more he could hear small sobs and sniffles. When he rounded the corner he found Bucky sitting in the middle of the room. Letters and journals sat open around him. Bucky was currently reading a journal and when he heard Steve’s footsteps he looked up. His eyes were rimmed red, it was obvious he had been there a while. 

“What are you reading?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky held the notebook close to his chest. 

“If it’s nothing then I should be able to read it too.” 

Bucky shook his head as his grip on the journal tightened. He averted his eyes when Steve sat beside him and held his hand out. Reluctantly the brunette moved to hand the notebook over but stopped. 

“You have to remember she was grieving when she wrote it.” 

May 3rd, 1945

 What did I do to deserve this? We were supposed to be planning the rest of our lives. Now I have to plan two funerals. The only thing in those matching empty coffins was my heart. 

What am I supposed to do now? Everything I had planned was with Steve and Bucky. 

 I hate not knowing what comes next and I hate them for making me love them. How could they do this to me? How could they leave me alone?

Steve put the journal down and sighed. He remembers going to the cemetery and finding the headstone that was being removed with his name on it, the one to his left was Bucky’s. He’d never allowed himself to put too much thought into what that must have been like for you. Mostly because he would break his own heart thinking about you mourning them alone. He knew it wasn’t fair and there was nothing that he could do to make it right. 

After that day they became obsessed with your writing. There were years worth of it but they decided to pace themselves. Instead of sitting down and reading for hours they instead decided to read one letter and one journal entry a day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

July 4th, 1945

Dear Stevie,

Happy birthday my Love. I miss you so much but I find some comfort in knowing that at least you and Bucky are together somewhere, hopefully looking down on me. I went to the park today for the first time since you both went off to war. It’s not the same without you here but it was a beautiful day, you would have liked it.  

I signed up for an art class and it went as well as you would expect. Everything at my station, except the canvas had paint on it. Even my dress. But I think you’d be proud that I went for it. The little painting I managed to make is hanging up in the living room next to yours. If only we had convinced Bucky to paint something I would have a perfect set. 

I’ll never stop loving either of you.

Y/N

P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Through missions and long days of training recruits, both men carried some of your writing with them. As time went by they noticed your shift from grieving to trying to survive. It was a journey for them reading your struggles in your everyday life. Steve and Bucky would be lying if they said they didn’t have a favorite letter or journal entry. There were some that reminded them of the happy young woman they had fallen for. Those were the ones they carried with them. 

****

Bucky had been through a difficult mission. He had been confronted by his past again and he was putting his walls up as he sat away from the rest of the team on the jet. Some of the others tried to talk to him but he just kept quiet and his eyes fixated on the wall ahead of him. Sam quietly walked up to him and placed an envelope on the seat next to him and walked away. That caught Bucky’s attention and he turned to see his name in your handwriting. He picked it up and opened the envelope as carefully as he could until he was able to retrieve the piece of paper out. 

August 25th, 1946

Dear Jamie,

I took the girls to Coney Island today. I know they wished you could have been here with us. Becca and Elizabeth finally convinced Mary to get on the cyclone. It reminded me of when you made Stevie go on and he threw up afterward.

 They had a great time. Maybe next time I’ll try to win something for them at one of those game booths but I’m not as good at them as you.

It was nice to be with them. They’ve grown so much in such a short time. You’d be so proud at how well they’re doing. Elizabeth has started reading all of your books and Mary is starting to like science more. But Becca looks the most like you and she’s taking the role of protective big sister very seriously (wonder where she got that from?). I promise to keep an eye on them since they like getting into trouble from time to time. 

I love you so much,

Y/N

P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.

Bucky smiled as he imagined poor little Mary on the Cyclone. Then his smile got slightly bigger as he recalled the day you had mentioned. You had been so mad at him for making Steve get on. But it didn’t take much to get on your good side again. 

Bucky finally looked back up, his eyes meeting Sam’s. He nodded in a silent thanks to his teammate.

 It was no secret amongst the Avengers that both men had been in love and dated the same woman at the same time. No one really said anything, except the occasional joke from Tony. Sam and Nat took it upon themselves to ask them questions about you, especially when they seemed to be having a hard time at work. At the mention of your name they could see how the super soldier’s demeanor would instantly change. 

Their shoulders would drop, a small smile would appear on their lips but it was the sense of longing Nat and Sam saw in their eyes that really let them know you meant more to them than being just some girl from their past.

~~~~~~~~

They had been more than halfway through your journals and letters when they finally found another interesting entry. There was both a sense of relief and a bit of jealousy as they read it.

June 18th, 1950 

I’ve met someone. I’m still not sure how I feel about it but he asked me out on a date. Johnny Richards is his name and he seems kind. Becca has tried to make me say yes that Bucky would want me to move on but I’m not so sure he would, ha! He’d probably pout and cross his arms over his chest and give me his puppy dog eyes to convince me to not go out with him. 

Steve looked up to find Bucky sitting exactly how you had described him and he smiled. 

I think I’m going to say yes though. He’ll never be Steve or Bucky but I think I deserve to find some type of happiness. We’ll just have to see how the first date goes. 

They read the rest of that journal quickly. Your entries talked about how your dates with Johnny were going but mostly they compared him to them. Steve and Bucky weren’t even sure you realized that you were even doing it. With everything Johnny would do for you, you would write down how Steve and Bucky would have done it instead. They found it odd however that the journal was left incomplete. It prompted them to start looking through both boxes again only to come up empty handed. The one thing they did realize was that journal entries picked up in a new notebook with the year 1952. 

“That’s almost two years missing.” Bucky finally said after rechecking everything. A sinking feeling in his chest the longer they searched only to find nothing. 

“We can ask Becca tomorrow. We should get some rest.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning both men head over to Becca’s home hoping to get some answers. However when she opens the door she isn’t surprised to see them. She dreaded the conversation she was going to have with them but she still ushered Steve and Bucky into her living room. 

“What happened to Y/N between mid 1950 and 1952?” Bucky asked, not bothering to sit down. He feared he already knew the answer.

Becca sighed as she reached into the pocket of her robe and produced another letter. She held it out for Bucky to grab. “You should sit.” Is all she said.

December 24th, 1951

Mr. Barnes

Please help me. He keeps hurting me and I don’t think I’ll survive the next time.

Y/N

The writing was sloppy and in the corner there was a faded brown spot. Through tear filled eyes Bucky looked at it closer. 

“Is this blood? Becca, is this her blood?” He looked up at his sister with rage and a pain in his chest nothing would ever be able to get rid of. 

Bucky and Steve had sacrificed their life only for them to find out that their girl had been hurt and they weren’t there to protect her. They hated themselves. Steve more than Bucky because Bucky had been drafted, he didn’t have much of a choice but Steve? Steve had done everything he could to get into the army. He left you alone and for what? 

“When daddy read that letter he was enraged. Called up some old army buddies and they handled it. But Y/N, she was broken in more ways than one. When they got to the house he had beaten her so badly she could barely move. She was in the hospital throughout the new year. When she was released we brought her home again. Then she never left. Y/N took care of Ma and daddy ‘til the day they died.” 

Steve was fully sobbing now. No matter what he would have done, one of the people he loved would end up hurt. If he hadn’t  signed up for the experiment with Erskine, you wouldn’t have been hurt like this but Bucky would still be in with hydra. 

“You can’t blame yourselves.” Becca sighs. “If she could see you now, see that you’re alive and together, that you saved Bucky from those monsters she would be so happy.”

“She suffered the rest of her life because of us. Was she ever truly happy after this?” 

Becca looked away from her brother with a small frown on her face. That was all the confirmation they needed to know that you had never found happiness again. They left without another word to Becca or each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve and Bucky didn’t speak for a while. Anger rolled off of them in droves. The issue was that neither of them knew who that anger was directed at. Was it at themselves or each other? The war, the draft, the serum, or the son of a bitch who dared put his hands on you. 

Their relationship suffered, missions almost failed, they were more reckless than usual and it went on like that for weeks. There was no lecture from anyone on the team that could make them see that what they were doing would get them or their teammates killed. 

Steve and Bucky had one moment. A single moment when they realized that they weren’t to blame. They apologized and forgave each other for being cold and distant. It’s not what you would have wanted. Just as they were getting back on track Thanos happened and Steve lost Bucky all over again. 

~~~~~~~~~~

5 years later

The team had one chance and they took it. They defeated Thanos. Now Steve has another. He checks himself over again and smoothes out his hair. The day was beautiful just how you said in your letter. Everyone was already celebrating the 4th of July. But as Steve stepped out of the alleyway all he could think about was the conversation he’d he’d with Bucky before he left on his mission to return the stones.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I come back.” Steve said with a smirk.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky replied as he brought Steve in for a hug. 

Steve pulls back slightly only to connect his lips with Bucky’s. 

“Make sure you find her and make her happy. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t worry Buck. Everything will be alright.” Steve smiles before heading up to the platform. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Bucky.” With that final word Steve disappears.

Now here he was just a block away from the park he’d frequented when you were all together. All of the stones were back in place all he needed to do was find you. And that he did. You were sitting on the bench here and Bucky frequented. All of your attention was on the letter you were writing. Steve could recite it from memory now. 

He took a moment to admire your form. You were wearing his favorite dress. The one he bought for your birthday right before he left for the war. Your hair was pinned back the way you loved. Steve smiled, you were more beautiful than he remembered. He finally gathered the courage to step up to you and hoped that this would go well. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

“Yes it is.” You respond without even looking up.

“Are you sure I can’t have a seat kitten?” 

Your head snapped up in the direction of the intruder. His voice had been familiar to you but it couldn’t be who you thought it was. His eyes were so familiar to you but it wasn’t possible because the owner of those beautiful ocean blue eyes had died. Still the sense of familiarity made the ache in your chest lessen and the same of your lover slip from your lips.

“Steve?” 

“Hi sweetheart.” He said as he sat down next to you. 

With hesitant movement you brought your hand up to his cheek. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. 

“Am I dead?” 

The question made Steve chuckle. “You’re not dead, kitten, I’m really here.” 

The answer made you start to sob uncontrollably and your tears made Steve tear up. He pulls you into a hug and tries to soothe you as best as he can. After some time you finally pull away and look at him. Steve kisses your forehead, then your cheeks and finally presses a long awaited sweet kiss to your lips.

“How is this possible?” You say in between hiccuped breaths. “You died. You-your friend Howard, he showed up and told me everything.” 

Steve takes a deep breath and explains everything from waking up in the future to traveling back in time only leaving out the part about Bucky.

“So are you staying?” You look up at him through your still wet lashes. 

“I can’t stay-“ 

You pulled away from him and stood up. Heartbreak and anger rolled through you.

“Why would you come to see me if you’re leaving again? This is so cruel. Do you know how much I’ve cried for you? Since the moment you left to become a lab rat. It wasn’t fair then and it’s not fair now.”

“Hey,” Steve stands and cups your face. “I would never leave you again. I came to get you, if you’d like to come with me.” He pulls out a watch from his pocket. 

“What about the Barnes family? I can’t just leave them too.” 

“I think they’d be happier knowing you’re with me and Bucky.” 

A small gasp escapes your lips as you look from the watch to Steve who’s smiling. 

“Bucky? How is that possible?” 

“It’s his story to tell.” 

“He’s not dead?” 

“Nope. He does think that I left him to stay here with you though. But I think we deserve to be together again. So what do you say?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The platform comes to life again a minute after Steve had left. To Bucky’s surprise and slight disappointment Nat appears. He disguises his heartbreak behind a smile as Nat walks down and hugs Sam and then him. 

“Glad to have you back.” He whispers into her ear. 

“Glad to be back.” 

“Come on, I’ll buy you a beer and tell you everything you missed.” 

“Buck, aren't you going to wait for Steve to come back?” Sam stopped him.

“Nah, I’m going to grab a drink with a friend. You can come if you want.” 

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. Now let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky got home late. He had been trying to avoid the emptiness. Not only in the home he used to share with Steve but the empty feeling in his chest. It was the punishment he deserved or so Bucky thought. To live the rest of his life alone with only the thought of your and Steve’s happiness. He could make due with that. 

Bucky sets his keys in the bowl by the door and takes off his jacket. His thoughts were elsewhere so he didn’t immediately pick up on the fact that he wasn’t alone. Still, he was quick and he pulled the gun he always had on him out. 

“You can put the gun down, Buck.” Steve stepped out from the darkened office door. The streetlights filtering through the windows provide the only source of light. 

“Steve? What are you doing back?” 

“Did you really think I’d leave you alone?” 

“But what about Y/N?”

“She agreed with me.” Steve smirks.

“What are you-“ Bucky’s words die on his as you step out from behind Steve. “Y/N.” He said your name as if it was the most precious thing in the world. 

Bucky’s steps were slow and heavy, as if the world itself sat on his shoulders. You met him halfway way with arms wide open. Bucky fell at your feet, his arms settling around your hips and his head resting against your stomach. 

“Oh honey.” Your body shook as Bucky cried against you. All you could do was run your fingers through his hair. “It’s ok. We’re together again baby.” 

You managed to get on the floor with Bucky and cup his face and press multiple kisses over his face. 

“I missed you, doll.” Bucky says between kisses. It’s frantic and uncoordinated and desperate. 

Steve joins you both on the floor wrapping his arms around each of you. There are more shared kisses amongst the three of you. Someone eventually gets up and pulls the other two along with them. The first night the three of you stay awake just talking and catching up. You tell them things that aren’t in your journals and they tell you about living in the present. Reluctantly Bucky tells you part of what happened with hydra. You can see the guilt in his eyes and all you can do is comfort him. 

The sun is barely starting to rise when the three of you finally fall asleep in each other's arms. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you did wake up you were disoriented by the room you were in until you remembered where you were. The bed was empty but even back in the past both boys were early risers. You fixed your hair and changed before walking out to find Steve and Bucky. As you neared the living room you heard more than two voices talking animatedly. 

“You still haven’t told us what took you so long.” A man said as you got closer. 

Steve opens his mouth to answer but his whole face lights up when you turn the corner and stand at the entrance of the living room. The reaction caused Steve’s friends to turn around and look at you. 

“I was picking someone up.” Steve says. 

“Please tell me you’re Y/N.” The woman had asked and you smiled and nodded. 

“Y/N, this is Nat and Sam.” 

“I have so many questions. Especially about Bucky.” Sam said as he stood up. 

Before he could even stretch his hand out to greet you properly Bucky came up from behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and glared at Sam. He had flowers in his hand which he presented to you. 

“Thank you honey.” You kissed his cheek before turning back to Sam. 

“Let me put these in water and I’ll answer all your questions.” 

Bucky groans as Sam gives him a shot eating grin. You chuckle and when you come back you move to sit down. Eventually Steve and Bucky sit on either of you as Sam and Nat ask you about what they were like back in the day. 

With time this would become a routine until you met everyone on the team, including Howard’s son. They had questions and you had the answers. You were sure to include all kinds of stories, especially the embarrassing ones.

 It hadn’t gone unnoticed how much more relaxed and happy Steve and Bucky had been. Bucky smiled more and was more open with others. Steve had handed over his shield to Sam and was starting to enjoy his free time. Bucky was still required to go on missions but it was ok. Whenever he came back from a mission you and Steve doted on Bucky. From having his favorite movie on or playing his favorite songs and dancing in the living room to cleaning him up and cuddling in bed. Life in modern times wasn’t always easy for you but fortunately Bucky and Steve were always there to help you. 

You still wrote in your journal and on occasion letters for your loves for them to find. The entries were vastly different from what Steve and Bucky had first read. Your journals remained an ode to the love you had which transcended decades and heartbreaks and loss. Now they reflect your joy, love, hope and happiness. The love you had for each other grew with each passing day and you were able to build the home the three of you always dreamed of. 

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[spennsrs]

drunk confessing to spencer? "shh, don't tell anyone but 've got a crush on him" my fave troupe everrr 😭😭 love your writing sm ❤️

(\ (\ („• ֊ •„) ━O━O━━━━━━━━━ ・:。DRUNK TEXT. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ︳spencer agnew x reader drabble ︳pure fluff ︳i love this trope sm :( decided to do a lil spin on it!! n also if this is short... im so sorry

spencer had a bad feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. something felt... off. while he sat on his couch, scrolling through netflix aimlessly, his eyes kept glancing to the dark screen of his phone.

from the screen... to the phone... back to the screen... then to the phone again...

his hand reaches to the mobile device, eyes focusing as the screen lights up to check the time. a soft sigh leaves him as he takes note of the time.

2:35 AM

they should've texted by now. they should be home from that stupid party... right? unlocking his phone, spencer opens his messages to reread over the conversation with you. they would text him when they got home... right? spencer's mind races with anxious and concerned thoughts as he sets his phone down, exhaling shakily.

... ding!

from :: [y/n] 🤓💞hey heeeeeey pssst keep a secret for me courtney pretty pleeeease

spencer feels a brow raise as he reads the texts, holding back a soft laugh. he simply stares at the screen for a moment before going to respond, only for more texts to flood in.

from :: [y/n] 🤓💞 im hella drynk drunk and i thynk its supwr obvious but like dont twele anyone spnecr is saur cute and i have .. the biggest crush on him no not crush that makes me sound like a lovesick schoolgirl but you get what i mean hopwfully

silence filled the living room as spencer stares at his phone screen, a little dumbfounded and a little overwhelmed. was this... real? was this actually happening? this couldn't be real. his best friend and object of his ever growing affections was drunk texting him, thinking he was someone else and confessing. well... maybe confessing wasn't the right word. they were more just rambling their feelings.

was there a right way to go about this? would [y/n] even remember this in the morning? should he even say anything? in a panic, spencer just... stares at his phone screen. his free hand comes up to his mouth, nervously chewing on his fingernails as he's seemingly too nervous to respond.

spence, you could always call-

his thoughts are interrupted yet again as his phone starts to ring. spencer's heart stops, and he swears time slows in that moment as the screen lights up with [y/n]'s caller id. shakily, he picks the phone up and answers the call.

"hello...?" "spence! oh em geee, heeeeeey! i'm hooome, i totally forgot to tell you so hi cutie, i'm home."

the soft giggles and steady breaths only fuel spencer's rapidly beating heart, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. "hey, [y/n]. i was starting to think you were hurt or something... but i'm glad you're home safe and sound." there's a pause of silence, before he swallows thickly and opens his mouth to speak again. "you okay..?"

"keep a secret! courtney didn't text me back so i'm sharing this super top secret secret with you! i have these ultra big feelings for spencer... isn't that crazy?" he so desperately wished he was there to take care of them. he knew they were a talkative drunk, he knew they never drank enough water and he just hoped their roommate would urge them to do so... he knew everything about them, everything came so naturally with them. so why was he surprised? everyone already thought they were dating, three long years of friendship, they were constantly asked if they were dating. within the three years of friendship, spencer had developed those deeper feelings pretty quickly.

but for some reason, when he was hit with the sudden truth that they returned his feelings... why was he so flabbergasted? the intense feeling bubbling in his chest, the quickened breaths, how his hands felt clammier than usual. "spenceeeeee? you theeeere?" "oh, fuck, uh .... sorry, [y/n]. yeah, uh, yeah your secret is safe with me."

there's a selfish part of spencer that decides to keep this to himself, to cherish in this moment. the whole awkward conversation that was bound to happen was an issue for future spencer.

but for now, [y/n]'s giggling voice telling him they felt the same was all he cared about.

[nobigsecrets]

H50 Fic Recs

Light At The End Of The Tunnel by bluflamingo Rating: T, Words: 3,191 The first time Catherine meets Steve, he's a voice on the other end of the radio, asking for her help.

Where lies the final harbor? by @missslothy Rating: M, Words: 48,643 Steve and Danny had finally admitted their feelings for each other just three days before the events of Season 10 Episode 7. Can their new relationship survive the fallout from what happened in Mexico and Doris's death? (Coda to 10x07)

Agitated States of Amazement by @emphasisonthehomo Rating: T, Words: 5,823 He meets Stef when he’s like 18, on a sub-reddit that doesn’t exist anymore. She’s kind of a huge fucking cunt. Danny’s kind of in love with her. OR: Sometimes the people you meet on the internet stick with you.

I’m dumb she’s a lesbian (I thought I had found the one) by @five-wow Rating: G, Words: 1,299 Danny waves his coffee around a little more. The lid is the only thing that prevents them from having to dig up a mop. “What’d I do? All I did is tell her you’re handsome and single and free Friday night.” “You were setting us up,” Quinn summarizes. Or: Just another morning in the life of Steve McGarrett, whose best friend is deeply concerned with getting him a date.

COMPETITIVE BY NATURE by alizarin_nyc Rating: E, Words: 2,701 "Oh come on, that isn’t gay," Steve says. "I was in high school. You’re gay, you’re totally gayer than me. Your pants are tight across the ass!” Steve has his little protesty face on and it’s exactly like his earnest, don’t-worry-we’ll-catch-your-husband’s-killer face. It is so, so gay.

Does This Marriage Come With Any Perks? by @pterawaters Rating: T, Words: 3,369 After Danny suffers a life-threatening injury, he finds himself in Steve’s care. He doesn’t remember much about what happened after getting shot, but he’s pretty sure signing a marriage certificate wasn’t something he’d forget.

Sometimes You Just Need a Decoder Ring by kho Rating: T, Words: 2,849 Danny follows Steve into the kitchen and sticks the beers in the fridge. “Actually I’m of the mind that it takes two to tango so I don’t know who started and who fueled but you’re both in this fight, so I’m just trying to figure out how to diffuse this situation so I don’t wind up as collateral damage.” (Mary & Steve centric)

You Move Me by dogeared Rating: M, Words: 486 Yoga, and waffles, and kisses.

Pick up line by kaige68 Rating: T, Words: 100 Prompt from kapuahi, Hawaii Five-0, McDanno, Steve loses a bet with his Navy mates and has to dress in drag Bonus points if someone (Danny) tries to chat up Lady!Steve

Careful, or you'll end up in my novel by kaige68 Rating: M, Words: 2,200 Former Newark police detective, now mystery, writer Danny Williams follows his daughter to Hawaii, and meets his biggest fan.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand by thefourofswords Rating: E, Words: 6,597 “Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids. “Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.” “What do you like in bed?” Or: Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

As You Wish by Brumeier Rating: M, Words: 4,077 When Steve comes back to Hawaii to find the man who killed his father he finds much more when he stumbles across a mysterious bottle on the beach.

Just Enough Hope by aries_taurus Rating: T, Words: 2,594 He hopes for a lot of things: that he didn’t make a mistake taking on this taskforce, that the ache he’s feeling in his soul will go away, that he can sleep at night without seeing his best friend being ripped to shreds by bullets, without remembering he left him behind for nothing, or hear a gunshot killing his father over a bad sat connection and he just hopes he wakes up one day without a scream dying in his throat.

All Hearts Come Home For Christmas by @cowandcalf Rating: E, Words: 12,198 Steve debates for four days if he should eat this year's Christmas dinner in the charity Christmas tent organized for the veterans by HPD.

Built For Tough Battles by thefourofswords Rating: E, Words: 20,770 Adam nudges his shoulder, “He’ll find his way back, you know.” Danny blows out a breath. “I dunno anymore about that. The stuff he’s gone through in the last year...” “He’s had a lot go very wrong, very quickly,” Adam says. “I’m sure it feels like he’s slowly been losing parts of his family and when you reach a certain point, loss aversion takes over. It can make you do crazy things…” Or: Danny waits for Steve to be ready to come back.

Friends don't let friends... by kaige68 Rating: E, Words: 2,008 Steve finds a desolate Adam in a bar. (Steve/Adam)

Foreplay by @stellarmeadow Rating: M, Words: 4,305 When sparring isn't just sparring.