#{ u luv the pain admit it }

[remlionheart]

Growing Pains

part three

♡ˎˊ˗ hiiii, welcome to the final installment of the fic that’s taken over my life for the last four months ♡ ̆̈ be sure to start here if you're new ♡ moving on from this story will be emotional i can’t lie, i've gotten way too invested in this but i'm very happy that i was able to see it through and hopefully do it justice. what started off as a small idea turned into something much bigger and i'm so thankful for all of the love and support you guys gave me. i love u all SO much, thanks for sticking with me on this ♡ biblically-cannon-megumi x fem!reader. slow burn. hurt / comfort. aged up characters. forced proximity. (light) enemies to lovers. eventual smut. this is what jjk could've been if fushiguro was the main character and gege would’ve been hugged as a child. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ˎˊ˗

₊⊹♡ MDNI ₊⊹♡

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

You'd lied for him.

Despite absolutely everything– despite your better judgement, despite the sick, burning sense of anxiety that had taken over your mind and body, you'd still... covered for him. Giving Gojo vague and concise answers, fabricating lies to make Megumi's late-night disappearances seem less concerning than they actually were. Telling him that it'd just started happening instead of admitting that it'd actually been going on for nearly two months. Painting a soft, false picture that he was usually only ever gone for an hour at a time though there had been several nights he hadn't made it back until nearly 4 in the morning. Mending his worries with whatever reassuring words you could string together to make him loosen up on his questioning until he'd finally closed the door to your dorm, leaving you with a poignant– "If anything else happens, you come find me."

You weren't sure how you'd managed to hold it together so well, but the minute it was just you alone with your thoughts again, you found your hands trembling as you rushed over to his side of the room. Reminding yourself to breathe while you rummaged through his bookshelf and nightstand for any sort of explanation.

Going through his things felt wrong, but not going through them would've somehow felt worse. If you'd learned anything from your time spent with him, it was that Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things, but deceitful without cause wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to lie for no reason. He held his secrets unreasonably close to his chest but never out of malice. If he was hiding something, if he was lying to you, Gojo, Nobara, and Yuuji– arguably the only people he'd ever really let in, it wasn't because he wanted to.

His belongings were every bit as organized and well-guarded as he was though, hardly anything seeming suspicious or out of place no matter how many journals and textbooks you searched through. You were trying to be as meticulous as you could, doing your very best not to acknowledge the race against the clock you knew were up against or the ever-increasing weight that was sitting on your chest as you reached for the only book left– the one that you'd gifted him for his birthday.

You pushed past your body's consternation, carefully flipping through the pages when finally, a folded up loose-leaf piece of paper fell out of it, making your heart completely abandon any semblance of a steady rhythm.

It was a series of bullet-points mostly, jotted down information about reversed curse techniques and different types of healing abilities that didn't seem to go in any particular order. You were almost afraid that you'd hit another dead-end until your eyes landed on the bottom of the page. Your legs suddenly struggling to keep you upright as you trailed over his handwriting, all of the rigid pieces of the last few months gradually beginning to unravel and connect.

"Technique Name: 'Kokoro Kiri' - also known as Heart Severing," it read, "is a reversed curse technique developed to manipulate, distort, and erase memories by severing the spiritual and emotional connections tied within a person's mind. This technique utilizes cursed energy to fracture the target's emotional bonds to certain experiences and people, effectively making them unable to access specific memories."

The page nearly slipped from your grasp, your hand suddenly shaking beyond your control as you forced yourself to take a seat on the edge of his bed. Your breathing was alarmingly uneven, tears desperately trying to push their way out no matter how hard you fought to keep them at bay. As much as you wanted to lie to yourself– to naively choose to believe that all of this somehow wasn't directly related to you, you couldn't.

Reality had you backed into a corner with its steel grip locked firmly around your neck and there was no escaping it.

Your vision was blurry, the words almost bleeding together as you continued on to the last paragraph, "Memory Fragmentation– typically performed by a healer, is used to destroy emotional and cognitive connections attached to selected memories or selected people in the target's mind. In some extreme cases, a skilled enough user may even have the capability to erase large portions of their target's past or sever bonds between them and a specified individual. Unlike memory manipulation or distortion, this ability creates a void in the target's mind, leaving them with a permanent sense of disconnection from who or what was once there."

The oxygen had all but vanished from the room as you stared back at his words, a devastatingly cruel fate laid out in such pretty handwriting. It was hard to fathom, that the same hands that had touched you so gently– the ones that had played with your hair until you'd fallen asleep, the ones that had tangled into yours on the nights that neither one of you wanted to be alone were the same ones that had been carrying around the weight of this plan all along.

You knew him well enough to know that this wasn't something he'd just decided on– no, nothing Megumi ever did was half-thought-out or impulsive. He was unbearably analytical. Annoyingly thorough when it came to most things, but especially research. He'd never bother to waste his time on variables or flimsy possibilities. If he was going to do something, he had to be impossibly sure that it would work, which meant that this… this must've been a guarantee.

All of those moments of hesitation– both big and small. The layers of distance and formality. The harsh, venomous silence that he used to separate himself from you. They all finally made sense.

"Itadori. Kugisaki. Anyone else here that you meet, for that matter," he'd said, "they’re not your friends.”

The tears that streamed down your face were painful and completely unavoidable as you pulled your knees up to your chest, letting your head rest against your arm while his words continued to haunt you.

“You can’t avoid it forever." The way he'd said it had felt so cold and unwarranted at the time. "You’re gonna have to get used to loss and to keeping everyone you meet at a distance." But it'd never occurred to you until now just how necessary that conversation actually was.

It had been a warning, not for you, but for himself.

Your body was numb, mind completely overrun with questions that you weren't sure you even wanted answers to, and they just kept multiplying the longer you sat with it all.

You allowed yourself another minute to breathe before slowly unfolding your legs and using the sleeve of your hoodie to dry your cheeks. Letting your eyes drift over the page one last time as you carefully tucked it into his book again and got to your feet, wedging it back into the spot you'd taken it from.

Would he have told you? Or would you have woken up one day with a void in the place that he should've been, not even realizing that something was missing? How far did this go, exactly? If there were different degrees of memory fragmentation, where did his interest in using it begin and where did it end?

The only real thing that made sense to you was that this must've been some sort of loophole to negate his contract with Yaga. To either free you from Jujutsu Society as a whole or to break his tie to you. It was too late at this point though– after everything that had happened, you didn't want to go down either of those paths and the fact that he did, the fact that he had somehow come to terms with the entirety of this... it made you realize that maybe you'd never actually known him at all.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, abruptly pulling you back to reality as his name flashed across the screen: "No project tonight," it read, "it'll finally just be us."

You stared at the text, unable to even write back a simple reply with how hard it was to keep yourself standing upright and steady. Your thumbs hovered above the keys, almost typing, but never actually letting a full thought form before another blue bubble popped up from him: "I wish it could always just be us."

Tears were instantly pricking at the corners of your eyes again, your insides burning as your chest constricted. Precarious but determined fingertips spelling out the last bit of honesty that seemed to exist between the two of you–

"It could’ve been...”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

He was frozen in place, the cold chill of the abandoned church that they'd been assigned to suddenly feeling like the very least haunting thing he was up against as he stashed his phone back into his pocket. Nothing had gone right since you'd dropped the three of them off. They'd been stuck in the same cathedral for hours and still hadn't found so much as a trace of cursed energy despite how small the area was.

Everyone was getting worn down and frustrated, but they didn't have the luxury of coming back empty-handed. His concern should've been on finding a solution, on checking the place over again to see if there was a hidden door or passageway that they'd somehow missed– something, anything that might lead them to the cursed object they were supposed to find. But instead, the only thought occupying his scattered, sleep-deprived mind was your use of the word "could've". The concise, intentional past-tense bite it had to it.

You were more similar to him than he'd care to admit, clumsy with your words at times and prone to rambling when nervous, but just like him, you never spoke out of turn. You were tactful. Soft-spoken, yet very deliberate when it came to expressing your feelings.

"Could've been" felt like a serrated knife because it was meant to. "Could've been" held the weight of a threat because it was one. "Could've been" implied that you knew something because–

"God, this is a pain in the ass," Kugisaki huffed, rolling a piece of rubble under her shoe as Fushiguro found himself actually pacing the longer he mulled over it. "We've looked damn near everywhere, there's nothing here!"

"Maybe Gojo gave us the wrong coordinates." Itadori shrugged, plopping himself down on one of the concrete pews as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Gojo.

Why did everything in his god-forsaken life have to lead back to Gojo?

You were the only two people at Jujutsu High with everyone else being out on missions– of course he'd tried to talk to you to see how things had been going. Gojo was constantly keeping tabs on him, always poking around to see how he was doing even when it was none of his concern. And you, being you– you'd probably been honest with him, not understanding how consequential your answers were.

The picture had become excruciatingly clear to him, what must've led up to that one single text from you. There was no wishful thinking left, no maybes or what-ifs that could possibly free him from this hell that you were both aware of now. Reality had him in the same chokehold it had you in, its grip just as merciless around his throat too– you knew and the only thing he could do was accept it.

He drew in a sharp breath, running a staggered hand over his face as his footsteps finally came to a pause. "We're withdrawing for now."

Kugisaki's eyes snapped up towards his, a blend of relief and confusion sweeping over her as she blinked back at him. "You sure?"

Fushiguro had never backed down from an assignment. Never tapped out no matter how long or grueling a mission was, but this was different. He could barely focus on anything, could barely keep himself present and coherent let alone concentrate on piecing together the layout of this abandoned building.

He needed to talk to you. Needed to get back to his room as soon as he could. It was the first time in his life that his emotions had managed to overrule his logic. Whatever was here clearly wasn't as threatening as it was thought to be– it could wait, you couldn't.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting you a text to let you know that they were ready as he motioned for Itadori and Kugisaki to follow him.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he reasoned, trying to sound more sure of himself than he actually was, "we can talk to Gojo about it in the morning and reconvene when we have more information, but there's no sense in staying here all night."

He knew neither of them would fight him on the decision, they'd both been practically half-way out the door before he'd even said anything anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket, a sobering gust of late-winter air swirling around him as they stepped outside and started heading towards the cafe that you'd dropped them off at earlier.

Nervousness wasn't a feeling he knew well, but it had become a deep, painful pit in the center of his stomach the closer they got to you. There was so much he had to explain, so many agonizing words that he had to somehow make seem acceptable even though they were anything but.

He hesitated as he reached for the car door, his eyes meeting yours with all the caution in the world before he finally settled into the passenger's seat and gently reached over to rest the palm of his hand on your thigh, almost flinching at the idea of you pushing him away. It was hard to process that you'd somehow become both the cause and the remedy to his distress.

Your voice was even, your composure seemingly in-tact, but the way you looked at him... your glossy, defeated stare told a completely different story than the nonchalant facade you were putting on for your friends.

The ride back was unnervingly calm– you, Itadori, and Kugisaki all chatting back and forth, the volume of the radio getting turned up and down every few minutes depending on the song, Kugisaki's laughter echoing from the backseat at something Itadori had said. He found his grip tightening around your leg in a feeble attempt to stop his racing thoughts while his head rested against the window when the warmth of your hand landed on top of his. Your eyes subtly drifting over to him with more reassurance than he deserved.

His heart was lodged in his throat by the time you pulled into the parking lot, each step feeling more damning than the last as you made your way to the dorms until you'd finally reached the end of the hall. You both waved and said your goodnights to Itadori and Kugisaki before you dug your key out of your hoodie and opened the door, leaving him alone with you and the truths he couldn't possibly say.

It was quiet, the tension in the room absolutely suffocating as you stripped out of your coats and put your uniforms away, dodging glances from each other while changing into your usual sleepwear. He took a seat on the side of his bed, his pulse ringing through his ears as he watched you put your hair up in the mirror.

He could see your apprehension– the internal debate of whether to say something or stay silent. The indecision of retreating back to your bed or his. It was in every movement you made, every small detail of your mannerisms plagued with a sense of uncertainty that made him ache.

He swallowed hard as he reached his hand out to you, "Can you–" He cleared his throat, watching you slowly turn to face him. "Can you come here?"

The same hurt he was feeling was reflected in your gaze, your breathing coming to a visible stop as you struggled to look back at him.

"Please?"

His voice was barely a whisper, wavering and broken but still strong enough to pull you in.

You turned off the light before taking his hand, letting his arms wrap around you as you burrowed yourself into his chest. The familiar scent of him settling your nerves while his lips pressed against the top of your head and his fingertips began drawing soft, hazy patterns along your shoulder. The two of you welcoming the calm silence that followed as you sank further into the safety of one another.

Growing up, you'd never really known if home was supposed to be a place or a feeling. You'd lost it so many years ago, you figured there wasn't much sense in giving significance to a word that didn't belong in your vocabulary anymore anyway, but finally being with him after the day that you'd both had... You quickly realized that maybe it still did exist after all– not as a place or a feeling, but as both. It was here, right inside the small space between you. It was this, the sound of his heart beating steadily against your temple.

It was him and there was going to come a day where you'd wake up without the privilege of even being able to remember the beauty of what you'd lost.

Your chest heaved against your will, tears soaking his shirt as they spilled down your cheeks, the weight of it all becoming far too crippling to bear. Your arms locked around his waist desperately. Hopeless, childlike thoughts suddenly soaring through your mind like– maybe if you held onto him tight enough, you could somehow stay here forever, maybe if you could find the right things to say then time wouldn't have to carry on.

His grasp mirrored yours, holding you as steady as he could while letting out soft little nothings that all bled together, “Shh, it's okay. I've got you." and "Please breathe, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He was dangerously close to his own breaking point too though, the only thing holding him together was the need to be strong for you. His resolve was crumbling, every wall he'd ever built absolutely annihilated by the feeling of your nails digging into his sides as you clung onto him like he was the most important thing in the world.

"I don't–want–" you shook your head at the thought, your words choppy and almost impossible to get out. "I don't... want to– leave you."

He let out a semblance of an exhale, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he guided you down onto the bed with him so that you were both laying down with his arms still wrapped around you and your head back on his chest.

The way you trembled against him as he ran his fingers through your hair was the exact reason why he'd kept all of this hidden in the first place– the same reason why he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from you. This pain would've always been inevitable for him, but it shouldn't have been for you.

He continued to brush away your tears, more reassuring whispers spilling out every so often until your body finally started to relax. Your breathing gradually coming back down to a normal pace while his thumb traced along your neck.

"If it were up to me," he swallowed, forcing his vision to stay pointed up at the ceiling. "Things would be different."

You lifted your head slightly, your eyes roaming over his face as your fingers absentmindedly tangled into the collar of his shirt.

"You'd stay here with me. We'd graduate together." He rested a hand over his forehead to keep himself distracted from the weight of your stare, knowing it was the only way he could the next part out. "But, that's not how this place works– things are rarely good and when they are, they don't last long. There's... a lot– so much you don't know about the contract that's keeping you here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, your shoulders suddenly stiff again as you watched him.

"I haven’t been protecting you because Yaga told me to or because Gojo told me to or even because it was my assignment to... I’ve been protecting you because it's what I promised myself I would do."

It was like looking into a storm over the ocean when his eyes met yours again, graveness mixed guilt. "I need you to listen to me, okay? Really listen to me. This doesn't leave this room. This doesn't leave us."

You gave him a slow nod, chills splintering down your spine as he cupped your face with his hand.

"Yaga's original plan to have you executed didn't necessarily end just because I intervened. All I was able to do was postpone it and have the responsibility of who would carry it out be... transferred."

The air had officially been stolen from your lungs.

"My job? My actual mission when it comes to you? Is to monitor you. To watch you. To see if you'll have any lingering effects after coming into contact with Sukuna's finger as a non-sorcerer. You might as well be a science experiment to Yaga and the other higher-ups.” The disgust in his voice was thick, heavy. “I'm supposed to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong while you're here. I'm contracted to keep close tabs on you to ensure that if Sukuna takes over Yuuji's body to try and coax information out of you, you aren't able to give it to him..."

It was the first time you'd seen his emotions evolve past his usual irritability or stoicism. He'd finally reached the core of it. The root of all of the negativity that he had bottled up inside of him for so long. It wasn't something as simple as anger or resentment– no, it was... grief that he’d been facing.

"The agreement was never for me to keep you safe, it was for me... to kill you if you became too much of a liability." He could barely look at you, his jaw clenched, the room blurred by tears he wasn't prepared to shed.

"That's why– I leave every night... I got Shoko to tip me off to a healer on the outskirts of Tokyo and we've been... going over different techniques... I've been burying myself in research, trying to figure out–" He paused, more violent waves of shame crashing over him as his thumb continued to lightly trace your jawline. "Trying to figure out the least invasive way to go about this because I– don't want it to... hurt. I want you to be able to keep as many memories as you can. I... want it to be... quick and painless. I– just want you to be... safe. Safe and out of here. That's all I care about."

You were crying again, but this time for both of you, for every single dismal decision that had been made and led to this.

You almost felt selfish for your own feelings, finally seeing the full scope of his. He'd saved you– again and again. And even after managing to find a way to do it one last time, he was still on the losing side of it. He would always be bound to the knowledge of what he'd done to you no matter how much time passed. You'd go on to not remember him, but oh god, would he remember you.

He'd been mourning you since the day you arrived and it'd only been getting worse with each day that he woke up with your body pressed against his. Even when he fought to find solutions, they still came with such a steep price that they ended up feeling like losses in disguise.

Neither side of this was fair. You'd be a late-night what-if that haunted him for the rest of his life and he'd be that place between sleep and awake for you. That confusing, gut-wrenching feeling of waking up and missing someone so immensely only to question if they'd ever really existed or not.

Both of your fates were equally cruel in vastly different ways, but realizing the selflessness behind his plan made something inside of you break. Everything he'd done, all of it, had always been for... you.

His hands were firm and secure against the sides of your face as he guided you up to him, looking back at you with all of the strength he had left.

"You've gotta trust me, okay?" Even through your own tears, you could still see his too. Just barely pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear like he'd done so many times before only none of it felt the way it should've. "I'll get you out of here. I won't let anything happen to you. But I need you to promise you won't fight me on this because.... it's the only way... we have to be in this together. Please."

Your breathing was staggered, your mind completely overwhelmed by promises you couldn't possibly make but had to. Feelings you absolutely couldn't lose but had to.

"What happens to you?" You faltered. "After all of this is said and done– where will it leave you?"

You couldn't help but think that the somber smile that cut across his face was one of the prettiest and most devastating things you'd ever get to see in your life.

"Doesn't really matter..." he whispered, featherlight touches still trailing across your skin. "I get to know that you're okay and that's enough."

His grip tightened around you, delicately pulling you closer to him until his mouth was grazing yours. "Promise me."

You wouldn't– you wouldn't do this for anyone else in the entire fucking world, and yet, you'd do it... for him. Your voice was shattered, barely audible as you finally agreed.

"Promise."

He rested his forehead against yours, taking a moment to soak you in. To share the same space as you. To hold you and know that he didn't have to let go just yet.

"You know, I used to watch you too." he said, lips softly pressing into yours as more tears spilled down your cheeks. "Across from the courtyard– you sat in the very back corner with a book in your hand. I always liked that about you."

You shook your head in disbelief with a half-hearted smile as he kissed you, again and again, more easy little confessions from him slipping out between breaths. Quietly reminiscing while he played with your hair, easing the room back into its usual calm state before he reached for the comforter and wrapped it around the two of you, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

He watched you intently as you slowly began to drift off, your words tapering down to incoherent little hums while your body tangled further into his. Exhaustion finally stealing you away. He laid as still as he could, memorizing the ceiling pattern while the sound of your breathing mixed with the snow tapping against the window. The warmth of your skin perfectly contrasting the frigid temperatures outside.

Maybe Gojo had been right after all– because from where he was laying, he really couldn’t imagine any curse or nightmare or hell that was scarier than what he was feeling right now.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next day was a blur.

Ijichi returned back to class– but you didn't, refusing to leave the comfort of Megumi's bed. As much as you both needed to keep up appearances to avoid any more suspicion being tossed his way from the higher-ups, he still didn't fight you when you told him you weren't going. "I just..." you'd hesitated, your body not at all ready to untangle itself from the faux safety of his sheets. "I think I need a day to..."

"I get it." His eyes were just as exhausted and heavy as yours, but he'd still tucked you in anyway, gently wrapping his blanket around your shoulders as his stare lingered over you for a moment. "Don't worry about Ijichi," he said, "I'll tell him you're not coming. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just... try and get some rest."

You'd nodded, a seed of guilt settling into the pit of your stomach for not being able to pull yourself together when you knew he didn't have any other choice. He didn't fault you for it though– instead, he'd kissed the side of your cheek, whispering a soft but impossible, "It's gonna be alright." before smoothing down the collar of his uniform and heading out the door.

All of the progress that you'd made over the last six months– all of the painfully naïve optimism that you'd been clinging onto about finding purpose and normalcy suddenly felt so hollow, cruel almost. If Megumi's plan played out the way it was supposed to, it meant that you had approximately 9 days left until your mind would be permanently altered in ways that you couldn't even begin to let yourself try and comprehend.

You'd decided that you'd return back to class tomorrow– you'd take your meaningless little quizzes on probability and ratios and listen to Ijichi's lectures and do your very best to pretend that it didn't feel like your insides were catching fire with each passing minute. You'd put your best fake smile forward and go through the motions no matter how much of a slow death it felt like, because that's what you promised Megumi you'd do. But until tomorrow came, you weren't leaving his bed for anything.

You drew in a sharp breath, willing time to stop, even if just for a second as you attempted to declutter your thoughts. Maybe it was a coping mechanism or maybe it was because you were all too aware of the fact that soon, they'd no longer be there, but you couldn't stop yourself from sifting through old memories. Digging through the recesses of your mind like it was an old attic, letting nostalgia crash over you so hard you were almost afraid you wouldn't be able to find your way back to the present.

It started off slow, little snippets and fragments of mid-July air and the sound of your childhood best friend's laughter. Easy things like swing sets and waking up to the smell of fresh-baked bread at your grandma's house, but then you really started to remember the details. The duality and nuances of that house...

You rolled over as you rested your head in your hand, a painful static rippling through your mind.

You'd had to start over so many times in life– from the unexpected death of your parents when you were a kid, to moving into your grandma's house the summer before middle school after she'd gained full custody of you... She'd always been so kind and gentle but also feeble with a slew of health issues surrounding her. You'd been terrified when you'd lost her freshmen year, completely unsure of what your fate would be. You'd managed to avoid foster care though, quietly living in her house alone since it was already paid off. Keeping the utilities and yourself afloat with the small bank account she'd left you with.

"Come by my place after school," you'd never forget how relieved you were when he'd offered his house for that project instead of asking about yours.

Your life had been uprooted more times than you could count, everyone you'd ever loved ended up being torn away from you in the most unexpected and unfair ways imaginable... But even with everything that you'd faced, there was still nothing that could've prepared you for what happened at that party.

Your best friend who went with you... the way she held your hand while the two of you browsed through thrift stores and laughed together. She was the only one back then who really knew your situation...

"Fifteen fatalities have been reported so far, but we're still keeping an eye on it." She was your immediate first thought, yet another part of yourself that you'd lost only this time, it had been your fault. "Usually when something like this happens, the numbers climb more often than they fall."

Your fingers tangled into Megumi's blanket, the smell of him swirling around you as tears streamed down your face. While he may have carried the weight of it differently than you did, he wasn't the only one who had been forced to deal with loss. It'd been a haunting and viciously persistent theme in your life too, one that you were painfully tired of having to accept.

Your head was throbbing, your eyes closing to try and block out the rest of it when a knock at the door forced you back into the room.

"It's me!" Yuuji called out, his voice just as familiar and comforting as it always had been. "Promise I'll be in and out, I just wanted to drop off some curry for you."

You swallowed hard before rubbing a hand over your face to steady yourself. You didn't need a mirror to tell you that you looked like hell, but you still stole a quick glance at yourself anyway as you made your way to the door, cringing at the distraught reflection that stared back at you.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed when you're sick but Fushiguro said that..." The way his face fell as his eyes trailed over you made your stomach drop. "What happened...?"

You shook your head, offering him the most sincere smile you could manage. "Just... a really bad migraine." You shrugged, taking the bag of food from him. "I've been trying to sleep it off, I'll be alright."

You knew he didn't believe you.

“A migraine?”

"Yeah, they come out of nowhere sometimes." You nodded, a tidal wave of guilt washing over you for so blatantly lying to him. “I should be okay by tomorrow. It's really not a big deal."

"Right..." He hesitated, doing his best to map out his words. “Well, you know that if you’re not okay tomorrow… or the day after that… you can talk to me, right?”

The only thing you could do was nod again, the lump in your throat threatening to break as you fought the overwhelming urge to grab his wrist and ask him to sit with you. To tell him how much you were going to miss him. To tell him how much he and Nobara meant to you. To tell him that even if you didn't remember them, they'd always be a part of your heart... But you couldn't, you couldn't say hardly anything between the weight of his concern and Megumi's secret.  

He waited another few seconds, his apprehension to leave you alone palpable. But when you didn't say anything else, he finally took a step back. “Just... get to feeling better, okay?"

You nodded again, your voice catching as you said, “I will."

He shot you a faint smile and you did your best to return it before he disappeared back down the hall towards the sound of Nobara's voice. "She okay?" You heard her ask as you closed the door.

Everything in your life had always been fleeting and temporary but knowing that they were too was a level of a pain that you weren't ready to face. Your hands shook as you set the bag of curry down on the nightstand and fell back into Megumi's bed, curling into yourself as a sob racked through your body without warning.

You'd experienced more grief than you could ever put into words, and still, nothing had ever hurt quite like this.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's footsteps were light when he returned, his movements cautious as he approached you, glancing over at the untouched food by his bed.

He ran a gentle hand along your back, trying his best to keep you comfortable despite the selfish part of him that wanted to wake you up and bury his head into your chest after a long day.

You shifted, your hand instinctively reaching out for his as your eyes started to open, your surroundings still a blur. It was later than you'd anticipated it being, the moon just barely lighting up his side of the room. 

"You should eat," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing patterns into the inside of your palm.

"I know." You winced, your stomach burning at the thought. "I just... can't right now."

A blend of understanding and worry flickered through his stare as he pressed a light kiss onto the top of your hand. It wasn't like he'd necessarily been taking the best care of himself either the last few weeks.

He kicked off his shoes, stripping down into a t-shirt and boxers before laying down with you, the warmth of your body settling over him in a way he didn't realize he needed until he had it again.

A small smile crept across your face as he nestled into you, his tired arms wrapping around your waist while your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails just barely grazing his scalp. His legs were cold against yours, the sobering smell of winter air and pine filling the space between you.

You stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the sound of his breathing as it gradually began to sync with yours. It was rare that he clung to you like this, but it never failed to make you feel safe, like the rest of the world couldn't touch you as long as he was near you. 

The thought was soft when it first entered your mind, deceptively dreamy and trancelike with the way it had flowed in so easily. It was warmth, comfort, and... panic.

Your pulse quickened as the sentence echoed through your mind again, louder this time. Three words that you couldn’t possibly let yourself hold onto. Three words that represented everything you were losing. The feeling shifted from something gentle and manageable to sharp and serrated as it started to press against your ribs, demanding space you couldn’t afford to give it. Your fingers stilled in his hair, another rush of static and tears suddenly clouding your vision.

“Hey.”

His voice was low and steady as it cut through the haze, his hand brushing against your side. He propped himself up, tentatively hovering above you while his eyes searched yours. He could feel your heart racing, the way it was practically trying to beat through your chest.

"Breathe for me, okay?" He reached for your hand, but you could barely register it, a haze of anxiety replacing reality as your surroundings began to blur together.

You grabbed the side of your head, desperately closing your eyes to try and escape it, but the static in your mind only continued to spread. The room faded in and out, the edges of his face blurring together as the panic attack swept over you with vengeance. All of the things you wanted to say but couldn't. All of the feelings that you'd tried to bury but couldn't– they were all right there, right at the forefront of the storm.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of Megumi's shirt, his face just inches apart from yours. He was still talking, still trying to keep you steady, but it wasn't working. There was a deafening ringing in your ears. A sea of scattered thoughts and displaced emotions crashing down around you. And then–

Nothing.

The static had somehow lifted, the suffocating wave of fear dying down. Your panic gradually replaced by what felt like an impossible stillness as he continued to hold you.

"Hey," the franticness in his voice was something you'd never heard before. "Look at me. Please, just–"

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your vision clearing as you let the hand that you had pressed to your forehead fall back down to your side. 

The relief he felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by something else entirely as you froze again, your gaze locking onto something over his shoulder. 

You thought they were shadows at first– the type of looming figures that you'd see out of the corner of your eye when you'd been up for too long. The ones that would disappear with a simple blink, but the two sets of glowing eyes staring back at you were only becoming more and more visible the longer you looked at them.

Your head tilted slightly, taking in the mix of black and white fur, the matching red markings that decorated their foreheads before the smaller one took a step towards you, its movements gentle but seemingly protective as it laid beside you at the edge of the bed.

Megumi shifted, his shoulders visibly stiffening as he watched your reaction– the way your eyes carefully drifted over the Shikigami next to you. He drew in a sharp breath, keeping his tone as even as he could despite his own fears rising, realizing what this meant.

“You can see them... can’t you?”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The sun had just started to creep in through the blinds, but Megumi hadn't slept at all. He laid with his eyes closed and his mind racing for the better part of the night, tracing delicate patterns along your skin any time you'd start to stir.

"It's more common than you'd think," Gojo said as they walked across the training field, the August sun beating down on both of them. "Negativity takes on all kinds of different forms, it's not always as black and white as we make it out to be."

Megumi had shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes pointed down at the track as they made their way past two first-years struggling to land a hit on each other. "But if curses only become visible when someone's on the brink of death, then why –"

"That's not the only time it happens." Gojo interjected, "There are exceptions, just like anything else. All it takes is for enough grief and despair to hit someone at just the right frequency and..." He snapped his fingers, pulling Megumi's attention towards him again. "A non-sorcerer would be able to start seeing things they shouldn't– curses, residuals, it would all become visible to them."

Megumi's pace slowed, his brows furrowing the longer he thought about it. "And you think that's what happened to him?" He finally asked, "You think he just... spiraled so hard that he stumbled into this world by accident?"

"More or less." Gojo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Look, Junpei was a perfect example of what can happen when all the wrong things line up exactly at the right time. All that bullying, that isolation, losing his mom– his entire life was one long string of pain and anger. That much negativity? It doesn’t usually just sit quietly. It festers. And in his case, it built up to the point where it broke through the usual barriers."

Megumi paused, trying but failing to block out how hard Yuuji had taken his death over the last month. "And cases like him– exceptions like Junpei are... common?"

Gojo's smirk faltered, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent slightly to meet his gaze. "All I'm saying is that they're not unheard of. Even the strongest people have their limits."

The memory had replayed itself so many times he could barely distinguish the present from nostalgia by the time you woke up next to him. He'd known that he was on borrowed time from the moment you'd arrived, but now... even that was gone.

His grip on you was light but firm as you started to stretch your legs, your eyes barely having the chance to open before your own thoughts began to spiral. No matter how much he tried to keep you calm, the demon dogs staring back at you were a solid reminder of where the two of you stood.

"We have to go... tonight, don't we?"

The silence that followed made your chest tighten, your hand shaking as your fingertips dug into the side of his arm. You drew in a breath before nodding in defeat, sparing him from having to be the one to say it.

You knew the second it had happened that this was what was coming, but there was still something so unexplainably damning about how it felt settling over the two of you. This was the last morning you’d wake up beside him. The last time you’d get to see him like this– soft and unguarded in ways no one else would ever know.

Your lips parted with those three words still desperately clinging to the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down, refusing to make things worse than they already were. It was the second time in only a few short minutes that you'd been the one to spare him.

His hand caught yours, your quiet acceptance hitting you both in steady but unrelenting waves as you laid together, your feelings embedded into every touch and every movement you made. It was tangible, absolutely everywhere in the space between you, and maybe… that was enough.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The hours went by like minutes, a heavy sense of finality and dread clinging onto even the most mundane things– from the way it felt to help Megumi with the buttons on his uniform while the two of you got ready together to the car ride where you'd had to take him, Yuuji, and Nobara back to the same church that they'd failed their previous mission at. It was all painfully familiar and foreign at once.

You were digging mental graves for friends that were still very much alive. Glancing over at Yuuji with a small smile as he leaned up to the front of the car to make sure you were actually feeling better. Knowing that this was your last day with him and having to push down the grief of not being able to give him or Nobara a proper goodbye. Kissing Megumi– really kissing him before you left and trying not to break down at the way his eyes lingered on you as you drove off. Every interaction you had was somehow more futile than the last and yet, you had no choice but to endure it.

By the time you reached Ijichi, you were more than ready to take a seat and tune out the rest of the world with one of his infamously dry lectures, but even his monotone voice and horrible puns were finding ways to tug at your heartstrings. Your mind wandered back to your first week with him– how welcome he'd made you feel without even meaning to. His classroom had always felt like more of a reprieve than a punishment, a quiet comfort amongst the chaos.

You shook your head, fighting past the tears that were threatening to spill over as you busied yourself with one of the ratio equations he had on the whiteboard when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You swallowed hard, watching his name flash across the screen before getting up and promptly making your way out into the hall.

He'd never called on you while on a mission.

"Hey," you exhaled, "is everything–"

"We found a special grade curse." He said breathlessly, "Nobara– she's alright, but I need you to come get her and take her back to Shoko."

The phone nearly slipped from your hand, the loud, piercing background noise coupled with Yuuji's panicked, 'Fushiguro!' made your heart feel like it was going to stop altogether.

You looked back at Ijichi from over your shoulder as Megumi continued talking, giving you instructions on what to do when you got there, but your focus was suddenly everywhere else.

"Gojo..." You hesitated, "Do you want me to bring him? Just in case–"

"No," his voice was sharp, leaving little room for protest. "No, Itadori and I can handle it, I just need you to come get her, okay?"

You hated the knot that had formed in your stomach, the nervousness that danced through your veins as you reluctantly agreed, telling him you'd be there as soon as you could.

When working as an assistant, sorcerers are always to take top priority regardless of the situation, it was one of the first lessons he'd gone over with you, though neither one of you had any way of knowing at the time that you'd one day be using it against him...

You zipped up your coat, shaking away the thought as you headed down the faculty stairs and dug your set of keys out of your pocket. You didn't have time for remorse– not now, and not when the lies you’d told would be forgotten by the end of the night anyway.

The cold air nipped at your face, snow still blowing haphazardly across the parking lot as you climbed into the driver's seat, overwhelmed and completely unaware of the set of eyes that had been following you since you'd left Ijichi's classroom.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The drive there was a blur, your mind flooding with nothing but worse-case scenarios and scattered images of Nobara laughing and holding your hand as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

Knowing that she was hurt... knowing that she needed a healer while also not knowing the extent of her injuries amidst the stress of everything else you were already facing had your foot heavy on the gas pedal, your car slightly shaking from the gravel road you were on.

The city lights had vanished a few miles back, the grey overcast not helping your case as you struggled to make out buildings in the late January haze of snow and poorly marked country roads. You weren't sure if it was relief or more dread that swirled through your stomach when your GPS started to chime, but it was too late to let yourself indulge in either.

Your throat tightened when you finally spotted it– an old worn-down cathedral in the middle of a seemingly empty field, surrounded by fresh debris and rubble that only made your anxiety swell. It was the first time you'd ever been to an actual pick-up spot. The first time you'd been exposed to the things that Megumi had tried so hard to keep you sheltered from.

You peered through the icy windshield, searching but failing to find any sign of her. "She'll be out front waiting for you when you get here so just stay in the car." He'd said, "She'll come to you, okay?" Even after you'd agreed though, he still repeated it back with an unnerving amount of conviction laced into his words. "Promise me– you won't get out of the car."

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and began dialing his number, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out just how wrong all of this felt. Each unanswered ring seemed to drag by slower than the last, your pulse thrumming through your ears by the time his voicemail echoed through the receiver.

You'd done everything that he'd asked and so much more. You'd kept his secrets. You'd protected him. You'd lied for him. You'd cared for him in more ways than you could ever bring yourself to say aloud. But this was one promise you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to keep as you watched a familiar thick, black smog seep out through the cracks in the boarded-up windows of the church. Another powerful thud reverberating with such intensity that it shook the ground beneath you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, though you weren't sure if you were saying it to him or yourself as you reached for the door handle.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Your breathing came to a halt the moment that your feet hit the ground. The air was impossibly dense, contaminated with a thick layer of smoke that seemed to tangle around your limbs the closer you got to the entrance.

You could practically hear Megumi's voice screaming at you to turn around, but you forced yourself to push past it as you approached the edge of the broken stone staircase, redirecting your focus on where and where not to step.

The entryway was completely shattered, the heavy wooden doors splintered and hanging off of their hinges. You held your breath as you squeezed your way through a small opening, doing everything you could to keep yourself steady despite the trail of fog that seemed to follow you.

Your pace was meticulous, each movement calculated while you navigated your way through the wreckage. It wasn't until you saw the faint waves of light flashing through the darkness that you froze. Your eyes snapped towards the back of the church, watching in quiet horror as the unmistakable hum of cursed energy exploded across the room in bursts.

You were stuck somewhere between fight or flight– your legs carrying you with agility you didn't even know you had as you broke into a sprint. You ducked, taking cover behind one of the destroyed pillars, just narrowly dodging a support beam that came crashing down when a hand suddenly reached out for you.

"'The hell were you thinking–" she coughed, her voice still maintaining its usual firmness despite how feeble it was. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Nobara," you breathed, your hand cupping her face to wipe away the red rolling down her cheek. Her body was lax, slumped against the remains of a wooden pew with blood dripping from her hairline down to her chin.

Your insides felt like they were on fire, adrenaline flooding your system quicker than you could keep up with as you scanned the area for the most manageable way out before looking back at her. "I'm not leaving you here." You promised, your body acting faster than your brain as you reached for her arm and slung it over your shoulder.

"Are you insane? You can't just–"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" The question was sharp enough to slice through the tension, time seeming to stop even if only for a second when her eyes met yours.

"Of course I would." She conceded, slowly lifting herself up as she leaned on you for support. "Megumi's gonna... kill you though."

It was one of the first times you'd really smiled in the last three days. "I think I'll be alright."

The calm was momentary though, another amethyst-colored beam tearing through the air. "Hold onto me." You said, tightening your grip around her waist.

Shattered stone cascaded around the two of you, your breath catching in your throat as the cursed energy spiked again, sharper and heavier than before. It almost felt alive with the way it twisted around your legs– that same fear, that same dread from the night Megumi had saved you creeping over you once more. The burning sensation seeped into your pores the higher up it climbed, rooting itself into your chest.

Your movements were strained, each step forward nearly knocking the wind out of you as you shielded Nobara from more falling debris, both of you crouching behind an abandoned altar.

The entrance was just within your reach if you could manage to keep yourself upright and steady, the light from the outside barely grazing the edge of the corridor. Right as you shifted your weight to stand though– a low, guttural growl reverberated across the floor sending another wave of what felt like rogue electricity beneath your skin.

"Fuck," you hissed, your vision becoming blurry as you fought to keep your focus.

"Leave me here," Nobara insisted, trying but failing to shake you off of her. "Look, Yuuji's right over there, he can grab me when he–"

But her demands came to an abrupt end as the two of you became frozen in place, the curse emerging from the shadows to reveal a series of vine-like limbs and skin that resembled ancient bark. The size of it alone was enough to make your heart forget how to beat, but the second its eyes landed on you, the earth seemed to still entirely.

"What the–" Megumi's voice broke through the chaos, the weight of his stare crippling when he spotted you from across the room, his frustration and concern palpable even from where he was standing.

"Go!" He shouted, another Shikigami already forming in front of him.

The figure tilted its head as if it were studying you, the pressure of its gaze pinning you to the floor. It wasn’t just fear this time– it was something deeper, almost primal that wrapped around your spine and pulled tight as the taunting hum of its cursed energy crackled into the space between you. Its floral patterns glowing faintly in the dim light with its vines curling and writhing carefully towards you.

“Why do you fight so hard to protect something so fleeting?”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi stiffened, his hands stretched out in front of him like weapon as Nuu lunged toward the curse, but he wasn't even able make it halfway to you before a branch-like limb sprawled out and slammed the demon dog into the ground with a force that shook the foundation of the already crumbling building.

Your head felt like it was going to explode, your thoughts and emotions bleeding into each other all at once as its question repeated on an unwanted loop.

Fleeting.

“Listen to me!” Nobara’s voice suddenly felt distant, blurred by an odd sense of clarity that had started to wash over you. “Leave me here. You have to go!”

It was right– your life had been made up of nothing more than fleeting contentment and memories that weren't made to last. The things that you were trying so hard to fight for would be gone by tomorrow, just like everything else, but they were here now and so were you. If this had to be your last day with them– if losing Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara was truly inevitable no matter what choice you made, then you'd do everything you could to protect them.

“No,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you even realized it. “I told you I’m not leaving you.”

The curse moved again, swift but intentional, closing the distance between you while its vines began to thrash, leaving more broken concrete beneath its force. Megumi yelled your name, his expression dropping as he watched the somber smile that cut across your face when your eyes met his.

"Don't!" He warned, his hands cast backout in front of him, but your mind was already made up.

You secured your grip on Nobara, forcing her to lean more heavily on you while you dragged her a few steps closer to the fragmented remains of the entrance. You were so close– just a few more feet and you could hand her off to Yuuji, who was locked in a struggle of his own ahead of you.

But close wasn’t enough.

The energy in the room surged again, its presence suddenly suffocating and absolutely everywhere as thick, sharp tendrils snared around your legs. Your body felt like it had caught fire, the white-hot heat of its touch making your vision flicker in and out as it started to pull you backward, Nobara's weight shifting dangerously against you.

Your jaw clenched, your ears ringing as you fought to garner up every ounce of strength you had left to push forward. You were desperate, every step seeming to tear something essential out of you, but still, you moved.

Another blinding wave of pain hit you– the curse’s vines snapping again, just barely missing your head as they shattered another fixture above you. It was a storm of debris and splintered wood, making it hard to tell where its limbs began and the church's destruction ended.

“Yuuji!” you screamed, your voice raw as your stare caught his. “Take her!"

He was stunned, too worn-down and short on time to argue with you.

Your adrenaline was exhausted, every part of your body ready and willing to collapse, but with one final push, you managed to shove Nobara toward the faint light spilling out through the ruined entryway.

She staggered, her legs barely holding her as Yuuji lunged forward, catching her in his arms right before she fell. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to really breathe since you'd found her, a warm sense of relief cutting through the pain.

But it didn't take long for it to vanish, the crushing reality of the curse now looming over you suddenly outweighing any amount of comfort you'd once had.

Its grip coiled tighter around your legs, your body going limp as it dragged you back once more. There was static in your veins, an overwhelming pressure pushing down on your ribs, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

This was it.

The background commotion slowly tapered down, your senses gradually disconnecting from your body as the chapel started to drift further and further away. A surreal sense of acceptance wrapped around you like a warm hug. No more fighting, no more flailing– it was just you and the comfortable abyss that you were sinking into. Just you and the memories that you were able to keep until the very end. If you had to die in one way or another tonight, at least you were able to do it knowing that you had spared him one last time.

There was a distorted fluttering feeling in your chest. A dizziness in your brain. A hazy montage of impossibly blue eyes and all the things you should've said.

And then,

it all,

faded,

to black...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's head was throbbing when his eyes finally opened again, his stomach still in knots as he blinked back tears, trying to piece together where he’d ended up. He was sprawled out on a familiar grey leather couch with a knit blanket carefully tucked over him. The rigid winter air only amplifying his headache as it knocked against the window of his office.

“'Bout time you woke up."

His mind was overrun with the fractured pieces of what had happened, sensations and memories coming back in painful waves: The leveled church. The sound of glass shattering as he channeled his domain expansion. The feeling of your body pressed against his before everything vanished…

“Where’s..." The panic he felt was all-consuming, time coming to a grinding halt when he realized that he was the only one recovering. “Where is she...?"

Gojo's smirk was nowhere to be found, his stare softening a bit as he took a step towards him. "I talked to Shoko,"

"– And?" Megumi demanded.

"She told me about your sudden interest in Kokoro Kiri," his tone was light despite how pointed his words were, "Usually used for memory manipulation and soul severing, right? Causes the victim to forget specific people and events?"

"You know that's not what I meant–" Megumi snapped, "Is she...?" His face was flushed, his nerves completely shot as he struggled to swallow down the rest of his question. "Look, I don't care what happens to me after this, I'll take whatever punishment the higher-ups decide on, but I need to know what happened to her. Please, just..."

Gojo's demeanor was eerily calm, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent down to become eye-level with him.

"If I had to guess," he paused, "She's probably still asleep."

Megumi's lips parted but the only thing that came out was a jagged exhale, his breathing coming out in short, choppy intervals. "So she's..." His head was spinning, relief and fear both clinging onto him at once. "She's okay, then? I mean, she's not...?"

"She's got some pretty deep cuts on her legs– probably gonna end up with a scar or two once she's fully healed, but other than that," A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched the life slowly return back to Megumi's eyes. "She's alright."

The tone of the room shifted into something more manageable despite the multitude of other unanswered questions that still sat between them. Megumi's hands shook slightly as he ran them over his face, images of the ruins he'd left behind coming back in flashes.

"You took down a special grade curse by yourself before I got there," Gojo said, almost sounding proud as he took a seat next to him. "I still had to clean up the aftermath of course, but..."

His stare lingered on him for a moment, the amusement in his tone fading, "She must be pretty important to you, huh? Making you tap into your full potential like that?"

Megumi hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he nodded, remembering a brief conversation they'd had last year during a training session. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "she is."

"You could've asked me for help, you know." Gojo shifted in his seat, letting out his own sigh while he rested his chin in his hands. "You should've asked me for help. You've gotta quit thinking that you can handle everything by yourself."

Megumi's jaw tightened, his words hanging heavily between them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gojo pressed, tilting his head at him as their eyes met again. "About the details of your contract? About the healer you've been seeing? Do you have any idea how bad that could've ended for you? For both of you, if you would've gone through with it?"

"I thought you already knew," Megumi bit back, exasperated by the fact that he was even asking in the first place. "You were there the night that I brought her back– you met me in Yaga's office after the negotiation was finalized."

Gojo looked back at him incredulously, "You honestly thought that I'd let you take on that kind of burden? From the higher-ups no less?"

His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded by an unnerving mix of exhaustion and guilt. "Yaga's never done anything in regard to me without running it by you first, even some of my missions get sent to you for approval, so why the hell would this have been any different?"

"Because you're an adult now." Gojo said simply, the gravity of his sentiment strong enough to break down Megumi's defense. "I didn't ask Yaga anything about your contract because I wanted it to be something that you handled on your own. I just figured you'd be smart enough to let me know if something went wrong."

The walls of his office felt like they were closing in on him as all of the resentment and pain that he'd been grappling with for the last five months suddenly came circling back to the true source of their existence– him. It was never you or Gojo or anyone else that had complicated his life this much, it was his own stubbornness. His refusal to accept help and admit defeat.

"I..." He faltered, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should've told you. I should've known when it was too much to take on alone..."

Gojo's expression softened slightly, his shoulder gently nudging his.

"Hey," He soothed, knowing better than anyone that getting an apology from Megumi– a sincere one, at that, meant something. "Growing pains are a part of life– this isn't your first and it won't be your last, but it's what makes us human. Sometimes lessons have to be hard to be remembered." 

Megumi was quiet as he took in his words, letting the familiar sense of solace have its moment.   

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much though, alright?" Gojo mused as he leaned back, lazily stretching his hands behind his head. "Your face is rough enough as is and I hear there's a cute girl waiting for you down in Shoko's office."

A small smile crept across Megumi's face as he nodded before getting to his feet.

"Oh and– and Megumi? One last thing."

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked back at him from over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"We can go over the details later when you're not so," he gestured vaguely towards his tattered appearance, "Half-dead," he said flippantly, "But she's staying just so you know. No strings attached other than her maintaining her cover story while she's here, but aside from that, the contract is null and void– for both of you."

He froze, his pupils doubling in size as he stared back at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"10 million yen and a few offhanded threats tend to go a long way in the sorcerer world." He shrugged. "That, and the fact that we'll have her as an assistant once she graduates. Continuing to room with her is optional, but–" His smirk returned with playful ease. "I figured you wouldn't be in a hurry to kick her out just yet."

There was a part of him that was afraid if he blinked for too long, he'd wake up slumped against a rutted pillar with nothing but debris and ash surrounding him again. His throat tightened, trying his best to ground himself as he hesitated at the doorway.

"Thank you, Gojo." He finally managed. "For everything."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next few days were a blur of pain medication, sleep, and holding Megumi's hand as he dozed off in the armchair next to you. He would end up in what looked like the most uncomfortable pretzel-like positions, but he still refused to leave your side no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to go back to the dorm instead.

Aside from the occasional injured first-year that would wander in every so often, the medical ward was strangely peaceful. Your mornings were spent listening to Shoko explain various healing techniques while redressing the bandages on your legs. Checking to make sure that your body was responding to treatment the way it was supposed to while Megumi watched intently, taking mental notes for himself just in case he'd need them later.

Your afternoons were filled with visitors after word got out about how you'd sacrificed yourself to save Nobara against –what you'd later learned from Gojo– was a curse named Hanami. She was still recovering too, but her healing process had been a lot more sped-up than yours with her body being more acclimated to the effects of cursed energy. Yuuji brought you fresh flowers every day– big, well-thought arrangements with all of your favorite colors. "You'll tell her that these are from me, right?" He'd tease Megumi. "Don't want you takin' credit for my hard work."

While you knew that Gojo had managed to revoke the terms of your contract, the weight of it still hadn't fully left you. There were nights that you'd wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down your face as you'd find yourself frantically reaching out for Megumi's hand. "I'm here," he'd whisper, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't until you'd been released and the two of you were finally back in your room that things actually started to feel somewhat solidified. There wasn't the same looming sense of dread that used to follow you. There wasn't the constant weight of abandonment clawing at your chest.

There was just him and the way his hands felt grazing your jawline as he kissed you. The way that he tried so hard to be so delicate with you despite the pent-up fire behind his stare every time he touched you.

"Megumi," you breathed, pulling him closer as the morning sun began to seep in from the window. "I'm not made of glass." You reminded him, your fingers tangling into his hair.

HIs hands were still lingering on your waist, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you through heavy lashes. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

There was something about the care in his eyes, the way he always put you first, even when his own restraint was clearly hanging on by a thread. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you nodded. "Promise."

His grip on you tightened, the palm of his hand warm against the side of your neck before his tongue parted your lips again.

You could feel the shift of him starting to let go, the way his hand roamed from your neck to your lower back with his movements becoming more and more fervent. Breathy little noises filling the space between you while he helped you out of your shorts and tossed them to the side of his bed.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes tentatively trailing over you as he lined himself up with your entrance. It was the very last wall he had left, one that he never thought he'd be able to fully tear down until now.

He couldn't stop the low moan that escaped him as he slid into you, watching how your pupils dilated as you looked back at him with trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved. The words were right there, right where they'd always been, steady and terrifyingly honest.

He drew in a breath, letting himself sink into you, noting the way your body held him tighter the further he went. It had always been you. His hand shook slightly, using his thumb to tilt your head up towards his while his hips met yours with the same deep, consuming pace. It would always be you.

His lips parted, his mind slipping as he finally let go completely and buried everything he had in you,

"I love you."

It was soft but impossibly sure as it brushed across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth you didn't even know existed in its wake. There was suddenly no such thing as holding back– not the tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes or the feelings that you'd tried so hard to control for the last six months. He was everywhere, embedded into every single part of you.

It settled over your chest, opening up like a floodgate once it began– "I love you." you breathed, your nails digging into his neck."I love you." you whimpered again as your back arched beneath him. "I love you." he panted, his hands firm against your hips as your walls began to unravel around him. "I love you." you cried, letting yourself fall apart for him entirely.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[gf2bellamy]

hiya! your writing has been so comforting to me- could you write something about spencer helping with your period pains n just being so gentle because I am dying of cramps and back pain n need a Spencer in my life luv u

cramps — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: period cramps a/n: i hope you feel much better soon <33 ( and i hope this helps a bit ) <3 ty for your request

“Did I mention that I hate everything in life?” you groaned loudly, your voice muffled as you flopped onto the couch. Your head landed in Spencer’s lap, and you let out a long, dramatic sigh.

Spencer, who had been quietly reading a book, set the book aside immediately, his hands moving to your hair almost instinctively.

His fingers began to card through the strands. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with concern. One of his hands drifted down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the soothing sensation of his touch instead of the dull, throbbing pain in your lower abdomen.

“Everything,” you muttered, your tone petulant, like a child.

Spencer didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, patient and unwavering. After a moment, you cracked one eye open to look at him. He was staring down at you, one eyebrow raised in that way he did when he was waiting for you to stop deflecting and give him a real answer.

“Fine,” you relented, letting out another sigh. “Cramps are killing me,” you mumbled, your hand moving to press against your stomach as if that might somehow ease the ache. “It’s like there’s a tiny gremlin in there, stabbing me repeatedly with a fork.”

Spencer’s lips twitched, and for a moment, it looked like he was trying not to laugh at your small joke. But then his expression softened, and he leaned down slightly, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice genuine, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You shrugged, your eyes closing again as you leaned into his touch. “You’re already helping,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “Just… keep doing what you’re doing. It’s nice.”

Spencer nodded, his fingers resuming their gentle movements through your hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Spencer shifted slightly, his hand moving from your hair to your shoulder. “Wait here,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. You opened your eyes just in time to see him carefully slide out from under you, replacing his lap with a cushion to keep you comfortable.

You watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. The sound of cabinets opening and closing, followed by the soft hum of the microwave, filled the apartment. A few minutes later, he returned, holding a steaming mug in one hand and a heating pad in the other.

“Here,” he said, his voice gentle as he handed you the mug. “It’s ginger tea. It should help with the cramps.” He placed the heating pad on your stomach, adjusting it carefully so it wasn’t too hot. “And this should help relax your muscles.”

You blinked up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Spence,” you mumbled, your voice soft. You sat up slowly, trying not to let out another loud groan as you shifted on the couch. The heating pad stayed firmly in place on your stomach, its warmth soothing the ache just enough to make moving bearable.

Once upright, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a small sigh of relief as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

The mug of ginger tea was warm in your hands, and you took a careful sip, smiling when you realized it was the perfect temperature—lukewarm, just cool enough not to burn your tongue but still warm enough to be comforting.

Spencer must have thought of that too, waiting just the right amount of time before bringing it to you. Of course he did. He always thought of everything.

You took another sip and put the mug on your lap, whispering, "Perfect." referring to the tea as well as Spencer.

[jackiepackiee]

OMG HIIII JACKIE

I pray for times like this (req are open)

uhh may I request period comfort for megumi and gojo? thx and since u want smau go ahead!

luv ya <3

I totally didn’t delete my SMAU character before this… ahaha

So it’s headcanon style, back to basics if you will

GOJO

Nothing annoys me more than the headcanons that he doesn’t know what a period is

This is a grown man, he knows what’s up

Now I do believe that he still is clueless on what to do for comfort

He’s never been close to anyone as much as he is with you, and you’re having a period

So expect him to not pay much mind to it at first, not realizing the personal details

But when he does notice you’re much more comfortable and tame with certain things he’ll note them in his mind

Especially little things, like holding his hand on your abdomen instead of your waist when cuddling, kissing your cheek instead of your lips because it’s less energy for you

It may not seem like much, but he does every little action with care and intention

Now… his missions

Gojo is a very busy man

So he makes sure to leave behind many items of comfort when he knows he’ll be away on especially hard days

It’s either as simple as a hoodie and chocolate

Or an array of more items than you have ever seen

He cares, he truly does

He may not be the best at showing it, but he prioritizes your comfort and safety above all else

Even if it means rubbing your stomach all night

MEGUMI

Now this guy knows what’s up

After, even if he was reluctant to show it, caring for his sister during her struggles he is well aware of everything

He’s definitely a lot more protective even if he doesn’t need to be

Just the thought of you being in pain pisses him off, even if its natural and inevitable

He likes to know you’re the best you can be

And if that requires taking on your training slots, missions, and sanitary expenses he’s willing to do it

Unfortunately all of this support is pretty much under wraps

He isn’t open about his very calculated actions like he isn’t with most other things

But you know him well enough to understand the extra pair of fluffy socks that just happened to be in your drawer was no mistake

His dogs are also always out

His cold hands aren’t cut up for heating up your cramps, but the pups bodies are full of warmth

They curl up on your stomach, nuzzling into your chest

And while he refuses to admit it, they treat people based off Megumis opinion of that person

No wonder there is so much affection

As for his schedule

He likes to text, just a simple hi is enough

Good to know you’re awake and probably feeling well enough to respond to messages

He’s a great boyfriend, just a little quiet in his actions

[sebsbarnes]

Heyyyy I luv your works. i wanted to ask if you could do tan x reader where her tan and lemon are on a train back home from a mission and reader just falls asleep on tan and lemon is just laughing and tan doesnt relly know what to do. hope that makes sense

thank u sm it means a lot! and this is a precious idea

headrest

tangerine x reader

warnings: none just cutesy<3

word count: 700+

masterlist

the three of you were riddled with exhaustion. the mission took hours and you arrived at the train station extremely late. there were very few people wandering about, those mainly dressed like they were leaving clubs which was a stark contrast from your frizzy hair, bruised face, and tattered clothes.

the lights inside the train seemed brighter than usual which made you squint, "i cannot wait to sleep," you muttered.

lemon dropped his head back against the seat, "we got about an hour to go."

all you could do was grumble in response wishing the ride was shorter. you hugged yourself tighter as the cool air nipped at your skin before closing your eyes to shield them from the bright lights.

the three of you opted to sit in silence deciding that the mission debrief could wait till tomorrow when your eyes no longer burned and your sides ached less. tangerine was past the point of exhaustion though. his eyes were closed but his mind wouldn't shut off. his thoughts raced from the mission, to the food he wanted to eat, to the shirt had been eyeing in the store, and to the new show he wanted to watch. tangerine's train of thought was broken when he felt a weight on his left shoulder. he opened his eyes to see lemon sitting across from him holding back a laugh, his shoulders shaking harshly and a hand cupping his mouth.

tangerine looked down his nose at your head resting on his shoulder. your lips were slightly parted, your features finally relaxed, and your hair draped over your face. tangerine couldn't help but smile softly at you. he thought you looked adorable and he knew you would be mortified if you could see yourself now.

lemon was still laughing at the sight and tangerine narrowed his eyes at his brother, "shut it," he hissed. lemon waved him off and did in fact stop laughing and returned his attention back to his phone.

tangerine looked down at you again and placed his discarded jacket over your lap and gently tucked it into the space where yours and his thigh met. carefully, he hooked his finger around the hair covering your face and slid it behind your ear. you stirred slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder closer. tangerine felt his cheeks flush and his fingers twitched to place his hand on yours but he decided against it. instead, he sat there unmoving and allowed himself to be your pillow.

nearly 40 minutes later the train was finally pulling into the station where the three of you needed to disembark. you were still tucked into tangerine's side and it pained him to have to wake you from your slumber, and though he will never admit it out loud, it pained him to lose the feeling of you against him. he brought his hand to your shoulder gently shaking you awake. you took long hard blinks before coming to your senses.

"are we here?' you asked in a small voice, rubbing at your eyes.

"yeah, darling, it's our stop," tangerine whispered to you and it was then you realized you were resting against him.

you flinched away in embarrassment, "was i asleep on you the whole time?"

tangerine smiled at you and offered you a hand to help stand up. he saw the way your cheeks went red and decided to save you from any embarrassment, "oh no, no. things got a little bumpy about ten minutes ago and i didn't want you hurting your neck so i put your head on my shoulder."

your cheeks were still a slight red, now no longer embarrassed but appreciative of tangerine's actions, "oh... thank you tan."

the three of you headed off the train and into the station before you started the short walk to your shared apartment. you were walking in front trying to speed your way home to the comfort of your bed with tangerine and lemon trailing close behind. tangerine felt a tap on his shoulder and was greeted by the bright screen of lemon's phone. staring back was a picture of you and him, your head resting against his shoulder and tangerine looking down at your sleeping figure.

tangerine scowled at lemon but his lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, "send that to me."

[highonmarvel]

hi hope ur doing well. i was thinking, could u do a buckyxreader where hes paralyzed and like needs a caretaker. through some means reader ends up as the caretaker and all is well. but actually bucky was just pretending and hes not realy paralysed and he just pretended to get closer to reader and reader start expresing the idea that she might have to leave for whatever reason and buck does not like that so like he kidnaps her or something. I rlly luv ur work this is the first request iv sent

this is so good, i’m upset i didn’t think of it first. i’m so sorry for taking so long to get back to you, i really hope you enjoy, and thank you so, so much for the love. okay, here it is:

Himalayan Salt

Bucky Barnes: You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you.

content warnings here!

You nod as your supervisor goes over your final notes: James Barnes, World War II veteran, quadriplegic.

You follow her from the overcast weather into a beautiful but modest home in a fairly quiet suburb to meet the man sitting in a wheelchair in the centre of the room.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” your supervisor calls, tucking her clipboard under her arm as she waits for him to turn around. When he does, you’re surprised. You hadn’t seen a photo of him beforehand as this had been a pretty impromptu assignment, but you’re sure you were told he was born in 1917, yet he sits looking like he’s in forties, and aging well, at that.

“Hi, Mr Barnes!” you smile warmly at him, and he returns a friendly smile, introducing himself as Bucky and insisting you call him that.

“I just need you to fill out the last of the forms quickly,” your supervisor mutters, waving goodbye to Bucky as she leads you back out to her car.

You’re leaning against the boot of her oldish, red car, pen scratching against paper when she says, “He really likes you.”

“Hm?” you offer, raising your eyebrows but keeping your eyes focused on the form.

She leans her back against the trunk and shifts down a bit, speaking to you but looking over at your handwriting, “He’s known to be grumpy. You see the left arm? I don’t think he likes being dependent, I’ve had to swap out a lot of people.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before I took the job?” you frown, still finishing off the document, “Didn’t think I could handle it?”

“I know you’re capable, but I thought you wouldn’t want it. But listen, the organisation needs this, I don’t know if there’s anyone else we can find for him.”

You complete your signature with a satisfied smile, handing back the clipboard, “Don’t worry, I can do this.”

She nods then gets in her car and drives away, leaving you in the driveway. You stretch your arms then make your way back inside. When you enter the living room, there’s a draft you swear wasn’t here a few minutes ago. Bucky hasn’t moved, but you notice an open window. You furrow your brows as you look down at him, “Can I close that? It’s a bit chilly in here.”

“Go ahead,” he nods, and you walk over, pulling the handle it, and ignoring the recent-looking fingerprint marks on the glass.

***

A few hours into your first day, you’re a little taken aback by how friendly he is; even despite your boss’ warning, you’ve never had a patient so willing to co-operate, especially not veterans — they tend to be angry they need help, or have episodes due to PTSD, but Bucky seems perfectly in his right mind and understanding of both his and your position.

“Did they tell you I was a pain in ass?” Bucky asks before opening his mouth for a spoonful of food.

You laugh as you pull the spoon back, scooping up more of the rice and curry you made to lift to his lips, “Kind of,” you admit, “Said you were grumpy, is that true?”

He smiles, “I tend to be,” he confesses, “But I can’t keep that brooding persona up around you,” he takes a spoonful.

“So that’s what it is?” you raise an eyebrow as you pile the last of the meal onto the utensil, “A persona?”

He swallows the last of it and shakes his head with a grin, “No, but I can’t not be amused around you.”

***

You have no idea why your supervisor said he was difficult, your next few weeks with Bucky are light and fun, and you feel you’re even developing a friendship. You don’t see to him at night, and he has minimal needs during the day — some days it just feels like you’re there to keep him company.

You’re doing so well, in fact, that your supervisor wants to transfer you to a veteran from Vietnam who’s apparently even worse than Bucky (by other people’s stories — to you, if he’s anything like Bucky, he’ll be nice to see), convinced you have some magic touch.

As much as you’re developing affection for Bucky, you have to put work first, and you’re compelled to leave him for the other man who clearly needs you more. Bucky seems to be doing well, you’re sure you can’t be that special, and you’re sure someone else could take care of him just as well, if not better.

“Hi, Buck,” you greet with a smile as you close the door behind you. You hear his motorised wheelchair come rolling down the corridor to greet you.

“Hi, why could you only come in at ten today?”

You usually come in at seven on weekdays and eight on weekends.

“Sorry, I had a meeting,” you sigh, setting your tote bag down as Bucky switches his chair to manual.

“A meeting?” he asks as you take hold of the handles and push him to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Mhm,” you nod as you open the fridge, rummaging around for something to make, “There’s this other guy my boss wants me to help,” you call with your head still in the cold, “A Vietnam vet, no one else in the org will take him.”

You emerge with some eggs and milk, shutting the door with your foot before placing the contents on the island, “Did you eat? I assume Carol made breakfast but I can make more.”

“Are you going to take it?” he inquires, ignoring your question, “The job.”

“I mean, maybe,” you answer, placing your hands on the counter and tilting your head as you think, “I’m not sure yet.”

“But what about me?”

“The other guy needs full-time care, I’d have to spend virtually all my days there, but if I leave, Carol can take over for me, she can go from night to day, she’s amazing, and she doesn’t complain about you, at least not as much,” you wink, but he doesn’t crack a smile.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s just that—”

“It’s your job, I get it,” he replies, and you can see the stoicism build up.

“Nothing’s final, yet,” you say as you walk over, “And you’re doing great either way,” you give him a kiss on the forehead, “We don’t have to talk about that, let’s just eat, I’m starving.”

He nods and attempts to smile, but you can tell it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You try to make conversation as you make yourself an omelette, but you can tell he’s not in it, giving short answers and not reacting to your jokes. When you reach to grab the salt, he stops you.

“Not that one,” he says, “Use the pink salt, Himalayan, I swear it makes everything tastes better.”

You grind some onto your food and sit across from him on the island. Digging your fork into it, you see something flash across Bucky’s eyes. Your first thought is hunger, but he’d just eaten and swore he wasn’t hungry. You ignore it as you bring the fork to your mouth, savouring the taste, though it’s not necessarily a chef’s rendition.

It tastes fine, but there’s something off. At first, you think it must be the salt, but it’s not the taste that’s off; usually when you eat, you feel that warmth in your throat and then your stomach, but now, it’s like it went to your head. You press a hand to your forehead, feeling like you’re burning up. Trying to stand, you immediately sway, only not falling by gripping the counter so harshly and hastily you bend a nail. You try to look to Bucky to tell him you’re not feeling well, but he’s out of focus. In fact, he’s not there. Just as you collapse and close your eyes, you feel a tall shadow over you, but you don’t have time to figure out where it’s coming from before you fall unconscious.

***

You groggily wipe at your eyes when you finally stir before turning over to reach for your phone, at first thinking you had had a dream, but your phone’s not there, and the nightstand isn’t yours. You shoot up in panic and look down at your sheets: Bucky’s sheets. Okay, maybe Bucky rang Carol and she came and set you in bed. Your head still hurts, and everything’s a little hazy.

When the door opens, you expect to see Carol, but it’s Bucky.

“Bucky!” you gasp as you throw the sheets off of you.

He gives a lopsided grin, and for the first time you notice how tall he actually is, because he’s standing.

“Christmas miracle?” he offers.

He walks over to you and sets a glass of water on the bedside table.

“That Himalayan salt is really exotic, isn’t it?”

You don’t even have time to process exactly what he means by that, he’s still standing over you, using his arms and legs just fine, in fact, like he’s been doing it every single day forever. You should have suspected something was up; how could a paralysed man stay in such good shape? The thought briefly crossed your mind once when you ran your fingers over his muscled arm, but you brushed it off.

“Bucky! You- you—”

“Are perfectly fine, I am, and you will be too, soon, those drugs just need to wear off. I know you’re having trouble understanding, just drink some water and sleep it off a little longer.”

He leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you dodge him, nearly falling off the bed in the process.

“Woah, there,” he chuckles as he catches you with ease, his reflexes so sharp it’s nearly unnatural, “Now I’m taking care of you.”

You’re not sure if you can’t speak because of the drugs or if it’s because you’re in shock. He gently sets you back down and your head falls against the pillow as you struggle to keep your eyes open, spots of black blocking little bits of your vision.

“I’ve been needing someone, I’ve gone through a few, but you, honey, you’re special, and I knew it from the moment I saw you. You can’t leave me, I still need you.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 33 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

As it turns out, the Underworld provides a whole slew of services designed to deal with circumstances just like this. Medical care, emergency home repair–and body disposal, all for the price of a handful of gold coins.

You sit with John as a man your lover so descriptively calls Doc sews up Wick’s wounds. There is blood on your face, and your silk pjs. Dog sits on your foot, clearly anxious about letting either one of you out of his sight. In the same spirit, John’s good hand is clasped in yours, or yours in his–neither of you have been able to let go. 

Another man known simply as Charlie orchestrates the removal of the collection of corpses through the house. Yet more tattooed tradesmen work on boarding up the blown out window in the kitchen with a big piece of plywood. 

It’s a miracle, really, the house didn’t burn down. 

“Thought you’d left all this behind you, John?” asks Doc, making a neat knot in the former assassin’s side. 

“So did I.”

“What will you do?”

“The same thing I always do when I’m lost. Talk to Winston.” 

The two men share a snort of laughter you don’t entirely understand. 

When Doc finishes with John he gives you a bottle of pain meds, and a bottle of what are, as far as you can tell, pharmacy grade amphetamines. “In case he has to work again.” You take them with wide eyes and a nod, praying to whatever devil might be listening that that won’t be necessary. 

You’re fairly certain that no one up above is interested in any of you anymore. 

You killed a man. 

You killed a man with a gun to save John, and you do not feel sorry at all. 

Numb, perhaps, but not sorry. 

John groans as he adjusts himself on the couch. You reach out to steady him, helping him best you can. He is heavy, and you look at the stairs with doubt. “Maybe we should sleep down here tonight?”

He blinks at you, undoubtedly thinking you incredibly naïve. “We can’t stay here, baby. It’s not safe.”

“Where will we go?” 

“We’re going to the city,” says John, sounding weary as a man twice his age. “I know a place. Can you drive?”

You have to admit you’re a little dizzy from the whiplash. In the span of a few hours, you’ve gone from being locked up like a princess in the castle, to murdering a man, and now John is going to let you drive?

He must read the blatant surprise on your face. He doesn’t like it, his grip tightening on your hand. “These are bad, bad men who would eat you for breakfast. You’ve got to stick with me.” 

You bristle at this, because even though you absolutely should be thinking about escape? You’re not. You were thinking about how you were going to manage taking care of him in this state, and it pisses you off that he’s still so fucking worried about controlling you that he can’t see the writing written in blood on the wall. 

Or at least, written in blood, on the kitchen floor. 

“You asshole,” you say for the second time tonight. It wins you a lordly scowl that for some fucked up reason thrills you to the tips of your toes. But it’s too late to turn back now. “Were you there, when I fucking shot a man for you? Maybe this is just business as usual for you, but it’s fucking new to me.”

He clenches his other fist on his knee, seeming to count to ten with his eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” he finally grinds out. “I know…Are you alright?”

You guess that you put up a good enough front that he forgot that maybe he should ask. Good on you. Maybe.

“No, not really,” you answer truthfully. “But I don’t have any choice, do I?”

He actually has the grace to cast his eyes down, seeming to really think on what you’re saying. “You had a choice,” he muses quietly, his thumb sliding over your knuckles. “In the kitchen.”

You stroke Dog’s head for something to do with your other hand, which is shaking. Your thundering heart beats painfully in your chest. From the corner of your eye you take in this anomaly of a man. This man, who kidnapped you, who has been playing mental games with you for months, who has kept you prisoner, who has taken your body to heights you never even knew were possible, who has spoiled you, who has adored you and degraded you all in the same breath–this man, who somehow, you know you love with your whole heart. 

“John…” He tilts his head to look at you, his eyes glazed with pain. You’re not sure if it’s physical or mental at this point. “Did you really think I could shoot you?”

Perhaps he did, because in his mind, the only acceptable answer to a wrong against you is murder. 

Perhaps in the brutal world he’s occupied since he was just a child, it is. 

Suddenly he can’t meet your eyes. “Maybe I would deserve it, y/n.”

The fact that he knows that is definitely a good sign. 

But the tricky truth is–it wasn’t all bad. And the good? The good was almost worth the bad, you dare to think now that you’ve survived it. You know better than to say that, because you know you are in the midst of a negotiation right now.

“I love our life together, when you’re sweet to me, John. I only want to murder you when you boss me around. And I only mean that figuratively.”

A huff of laughter escapes him; there is a glimmer of hope in his miserable dark eyes. You know it’s insane, after everything he’s done, but you feel sorry for this man. 

“If you would just treat me as an equal, instead of constantly trying to control me…” I’ll be your ride or die. You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud yet. He already has enough power over you. “Do you think…that’s something we can work on?”

He could have pushed you over with a feather, when slowly he nods, bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them. “If you don’t want to murder me after everything I’ve done to you…maybe anything is possible.”

You on the other hand, can only blink. Did you just hear what you think you heard? 

That blood-pressure induced ringing has returned to your ears again. The explosion and gunfire surely didn’t help, but somehow this is far more momentous to you. Your surprise for the magnitude of this admission surprises you, and you must show it in the lift of your brows. It makes him smile ruefully; you’re not sure why the sight of it squeezes your heart so. 

You are not so stupid as to think this traumatic event has healed him miraculously, knocked some loose screw back into place. The mind doesn’t work like that. But just maybe, it did put some things into perspective. You are allies now against a mutual cause, rather than enemies of each other. And just maybe, when you tell him that you don’t want to leave him, he will actually believe you from now on. 

“Anyway…I can drive the Rover…” you say with confidence, even though you are still utterly flabbergasted he’d even give you the opportunity. “I don’t know about the ‘Stang.” The Mustang you think you could manage in an emergency, but it’s been a long time since you had to drive a stick, and being responsible for his baby doesn’t sit well with you. 

“That will do.” He grumbles, mostly to himself, “I’ve got to teach you to drive. There is so much I need to teach you.”

You’re not sure what he means by that. You are too tired to hash it out completely right now, but you sense that something, a whole lot of something, has changed in the past few hours between you.  

He makes to get to his feet with a groan–and can’t quite. “Maybe I am too old for this shit,” he grouses. 

“John, you got shot, stabbed, and fought off ten heavily armed assassins. I think you can count tonight as a win.”

Again, that bitter huff of laughter escapes him. You help John to his feet, trying to steady him as best you can. If he’d injured one of his legs badly you would be so fucked; there was no way you could carry him.

“Um…who were they?” You realize you haven’t even talked about who was just trying to kill him. You suppose you already think you know the answer, but then again you could be wrong.

“Camorra goons, I’m pretty sure,” hisses John, clearly in pain. “Guess I should have kept someone alive for questioning…I’ve always been bad at that.”

You press your lips, because it shouldn’t be funny…but if you don’t laugh about it, you might cry. Your life has been so weird lately, it almost just seems par for the course in a way. 

“John…” you chortle and sigh. “Surely the d’Antonio kid gets the picture now? You’ve killed everyone he’s sent after you? Why can’t these assholes just leave you alone?” Why the prince of the Camorra would court such trouble is beyond you. 

“Good question.” He groans as he takes a step, his good arm slung over your shoulder. “The young ones, especially the second or third generation, think they have to prove themselves. Or maybe…he loved his mother and wants me dead. It’s a faint possibility.” 

“Italian boys and their mothers.” 

John chuckles a little, then winces. “Please, sweetheart,” he entreats you. “Don’t make me laugh.” 

Maybe you are a silly creature, but hearing the endearment for you warms something in your heart that had been left out in the cold for too long. “Fine,” you agree, even though humor is absolutely your biggest coping mechanism. “Tell me what we need to do next?” 

“We need to pack.”

“Ok. What?”

“Suits, and guns.” 

You guess in a nutshell, that was the essential distillation of his world, once upon a time. Now, quite against your will, you both are being kicked back into it. By the look in John’s dark eyes, for some reason you have a feeling it’s the Camorra who are going to regret it. 

[yourstrulyrika]

heyyy

how would leon (re2 or 4 idm) be when f!reader uses a safeword when theyre having sex? like how would he react towards her🙀

luv ya have a nice day

hey there!! sorry its a bit late :> its actually my first rq and im just skdndkdn!!! thank u!! course i can <3 luv you too! doing this while watching scary urbex videos because im lowkey bored & sick haha </3 i decided to pick re4 leon because he fits it more me thinks!

warnings: none besides a bit of roughness but then comfort so no worries! fem reader!

Leon was stressed. and what’s a better way to let your stress out if not on your girlfriend? he usually controls himself though.

But not today— he hasn’t even noticed he was being rough with you, overstimulating you to the point of tears and it actually being a bit painful to you. he just.. was too lost in his mind. gripping your hand so tight you thought he’s going to break you. he wasn’t even speaking that day because he was so frustrated with everything—

until you said the safe word.

he could be silent all the time, not saying a word, but the moment he hears you even whisper the safe word he stopped instantly. no questions asked, no complaints, nothing. he straight up stops moving, cupping your face in his hands and getting all soft on you. suddenly, all the frustration is gone and his thoughts are full of you.

“ ‘m sorry baby, got too ahead of myself, so sorry, thank you for telling me,”

he’s actually glad you told him. he’d feel horrible if you didn’t because he would realise this later on either way. he hates the idea of “using” you, he’s terrified of you thinking he uses you in situations like those. he doesn’t — you’re not some sort of toy for him.

he kisses your forehead, covering you whole with his sweet kisses that just melt your heart.

“should i stop?” he asks you, and if you say you want to keep going, he’ll keep going, but he’ll be so gentle, letting you control everything. he never wanted to hurt his precious girl on purpose, he just wants to make it up to you.

however, if you say you want to stop, he understands. he pulls out of you, instantly all over you again. he carries you to the bathroom and gives you a nice shared bath, one where he cuddles with you all the time. he’s still feeling guilty though, so he keeps apologizing time and time again, constantly thinking you just don’t want to make him worry and that’s why you’re accepting his apology so quick. he would never admit it though

after the bath, he gives you his shirt since he thinks you look cute in it, and carries you because let’s be honest, this man loves carrying you. he doesn’t believe in this “too heavy” bullshit, no way. he carries you like the princess you are! straight to the kitchen, making everything you want because he won’t let you lift a hand. later he just takes you to the bed, pulling you close and playing with your hair. you either watch something then or just talk or nap. either way, he’s there for you, even if you already forgave him <3

[babyyweebbitch]

haiii! im super impressed w ur writing. It's so good (must admit). can I have a Simon "Ghost" Riley when he found out I trying to hide wounds after fighting?

It's okie for no, thx u and luv uuu <3

no problem bubba :)) i wanted to do something like this but didn’t know how to | i just reread everything and saw u said fight 🧍🏾‍♀️ chat pls to kill me its been a while and i JUST woke up from a nap. i hope this is okay tho!!

content warning : Black female reader, blood, hiding wounds , simon being angy

you had gotten back from a solo week long mission a few days ago, you were being quite distant and secretive from everyone… nobody knew why but they didn’t pry thinking it was just you wanting space after a tough mission especially going alone… nobody blamed you

one day, you were walking through the base in regular clothing but baggy clothing, which Simon thought was odd because you were always known to wear shorts or something, you grabbed a few medical supplies and hid them before quickly going to your room across the bass, he noticed this.

how odd… what would you need with these items? he decided to follow far behind you and watched as you went into your room. after a few minutes he knocked on your door and waited for a response

“im busy! one moment!” you yelled out sounding panicked and hurried.

“can i come in?” simon called out from the other side, his deep, thick British accent was very easy to tell who it was because of how it sounded. after a few seconds you opened the door but leaned against the door putting weight on one leg as you did, opening it just so much so he couldn’t see the rest of your room

“whats up?” you asked, having a face of trying to hide pain, which he took notice of very quickly. he raised an eyebrow and looked at you, taking a few seconds to answer

“i saw you got medical supplies… is everything okay?” he asked with clear worry in his voice, which only showed with you

“yeah everything is okay, i was just getting them for Johnny” you said clearly lying, Johnny has been with Ghost most of the day

“you’re lying — what is wrong?” he said, with a stern voice, you kinda just looked at him with a look of ‘oh shit, im cooked’ but you wanted to try and lie again

“im telling the truth, Si…”

“lying again! Y/N what is going on, let me in”

you both just looked at each other before you slowly opened the door, simon saw all of your bloodied bandages on the floor along with the new ones you had just gotten… he didn’t say anything at first but once he did you felt like a kid being yelled at again

“what the hell? what happened?” he said with a angry tone, he looked at you and the look in his eyes scared you. you avoided eye contact and you just looked at the floor

“it happened on my mission… i got banged up pretty bad and didn’t want to tell anyone…”

“why?!” simons voice was raised just a little bit once he asked this, he was angry that you didn’t say anything about it and he was angry you let it go this long. after a few seconds he walked into your room and closed the door “show me now, you don’t have an option” he said, standing directly in front of you with his arms crossed. you were about to protest but after seeing he was dead serious you untied your sweatpants and let them drop, once he saw your legs you had a few cuts and bruises but the worst one was a gash on your upper thigh that was still healing. he sighed and he pointed to your bed without further explanation

you sat down and simon started to take care of the gash on your thigh first before the rest. he didn’t have anything to stitch it with so he just wrapped it tightly after cleaning it and he prayed for the best.

“take your shirt off, i know theres more” he said as he tossed bloody tissues away and he looked at you, you took your shirt off and you had a tank top underneath, there were a few scrapes and bruises here and there on your arms and rest of your body but nothing that wouldn’t heal on its own.

“if you do something this stupid again, i will tell Price about it…” he said getting up from the floor and subconsciously cleaning up the old bloodied bandages and other trash from your floor. he didn’t say anything else afterwards, he was upset with you and didn’t know what to say or do with you. you kinda just watched him and once he was done cleaning up he left the room.

you felt horrible now…

[tojisun]

Simon realizing he's too far gone

Luv ya sun🩷

IM GONNA START SOBBING HELLO?

"oh, and i swear she is not like any other" bro wants me dead actually

there is something infinitely painful in seeing simon admit that he is broken, all the while pulling away from you because he thinks that with his admission comes the necessity for him to leave.

he doesn't deserve you—this is a mantra that simon murmurs every waking moment, his teeth digging into the plush of his lips in hopes that maybe this will stop him from breaking. from splintering into the jagged pieces that he is made of.

of course it helps him from shattering. simon is good at that, anyway—pretending to be infallible. pretending to not be fracturing one stitch at a time.

price tells him that he's not hopeless; that he deserves to be loved just as gently. just as kindly.

but simon knows. gods, he knows.

he can never allow you to love him, not when he is a mess of a man. you deserve someone better than him, after all. you deserve more than the scars simon carries and the wounds beyond those marked on his skin. you deserve more than the night terrors that are trapped in his throat, only letting him breathe in through ragged rasps.

you deserve someone who isn't too far gone. someone whose humanity is not tied to what they feel for you.

still, simon falls, untethered. but gods, he can't find it in himself to care.

it's too late for that, anyway. too late for precaution.

--

i love writing based with nothing but vibes because this one is so??!!?!??!

I LUV U TOO!!! EVEN IF U HURT ME WITH THE GHOST x ST CROSSOVER <33 (pls dont stop teehee)

[cs-fox]

FOXHOUND | GHOST X FEM!READER PART 8

I don’t know what I’m going to do when this is finished. if u have any ideas/requests, don’t hesitate to shoot me a message / ask !!

:D

cw: blood

reader callsign: fox

part 7

______________________________________________________________

You were never one for boxing, but the repetitiveness helped soothe you. Fists slamming into the old punching bag, jab, cross, jab, cross.

You didn’t realise how long you’d been in the training room until you saw your knuckles - red raw and bleeding, russet fluid trickling down your wrists.

‘Shit,’ you mumbled, reaching for your bag, maybe there was some old bandages buried in its depths?

Your search was fruitless; so you dragged yourself from the gym and into the medbay.

The nurses knew your name now.

But just as you were about to ask the blonde-haired one if they had any anaesthetic, your eyes snagged inevitably on the huge frame of Lieutenant Ghost. What the fuck is he doing in here?

Your immediate instinct was to walk right back out the door, but your knuckles made themselves known once more through a stab of stinging pain. You winced, a soft gasp escaping your throat, and you saw Ghost flinch, as if he was thinking of turning around to help you, but he stayed resolutely in his position.

‘Hmph.’

You found the fair haired nurse from a minute earlier and asked if there was anything she could do. She smiled softly and led you to a table, pulling out a small first-aid kit.

‘Show me your hands, love.’

You enjoyed how gentle she was, despite your position as a soldier. It was nice, how she called you “love”, and patted your wrist once she’d finished.

‘No more boxing for a week while these heal, okay, Private?’ and you nodded, standing up to walk out of the medbay.

Just as you stepped over the threshold, a deep voice rumbled from beside you. ‘Jus’ a mo’, Private.’

Private. Not sweetheart, or love, or his little fox.

It was clear you scared him with your talk of feelings. And no, you didn’t want a moment with your big bad Lieutenant after he’d pushed you out of his quarters.

‘Sorry, sir,’ you lied. ‘There’s someone waiting for me at the bar in town. I don’t have a moment.’

You disappeared before that rumbling growl in his throat could turn into a shout. You didn’t have anybody waiting for you - safe to say Ghost had already ruined you for anybody else - but it was just the kick he needed, you hoped.

Hurry up and make a move, LT, otherwise what you want will be gone.

This thought and other smug variations were crawling through your mind until you felt something warm and solid slam into you from behind. ‘Watch where you - oh!’

‘I don’ think you’ll be goin’ on tha’ date tonight, luv.’

Before you knew it, you were back in your Lieutenant’s quarters.

‘I don’t have a date,’ you said quickly, watching as he made himself comfortable on his couch. ‘I said that to - to…’

‘Make me jealous,’ he said coolly. ‘Yeah. Thought so.’

You flushed angrily. ‘I thought you said you didn’t care!’

‘Never said that, sweet’eart.’

‘But - what was all of that shoving me away bullshit? You’re just so used to not feeling anything that the second something comes along you get scared, and - and push them away! That’s it, isn’t it?’

You knew you’d struck a nerve when he shot to his feet, towering over you.

‘I…’ he faltered. ‘Sweet’eart, tha’s… I just don’t…’

‘Don’t what? Don’t want to love me?’

A very pregnant silence filled the room with invisible pressure.

‘I don’t want to saddle you with the love of someone like me, sweet’eart.’ hazel eyes that had once bored into your very soul now avoided you. Ghost jumped when you reached up and tilted his head so his eyes met yours once more.

‘I don’t think that’s much of a problem,’ you whispered.

______________________________________________________________

well. this is getting interesting, right? big bad Lieutenant forced to admit he’s scared - probably for the first time.

also thank u ALL for the support im getting 4 this series. love you x

[hongcherry]

Hii, can u write a Hongjoong x reader fic, best friends 2 lovers, when they're camping together ? Please 😁 I luv your works sm!

🏕 Paring: Hongjoong x Reader (gn)

🏕 Rating/Genres/AUs: PG-15; Fluff; Best friends to lovers

🏕 Warnings: None?

🏕 Word Count: 1.2k

🏕 Author's Note: Ahhh thank you soo much for this ask! My first Hongjoong ask 💕 I need more Hongjoong on this blog! Thank you for the support ^-^

ateez masterlist | main masterlist

Hongjoong’s tired.

He’s tired of fending off mosquitos. He’s tired of feeling sweat run down his back. He’s tired of the uncomfortable cot he has to sleep on.

He’s tired of being outside.

He just wants to go home.

Luckily, all he must do is endure one more day. One more day of mosquitos, sweat, restless sleeping, and wilderness.

He can do it.

Maybe.

“You want to do what?” he asks, body filling with a mix of dread and defeat.

You finish applying the last of your sunscreen before handing him the item.

“I want us to go paddle boating!” you repeat.

Hongjoong blinks at you, sunscreen forgotten.

“Aren’t those the ones you have to pedal to move?” he questions. Even though he knows he’s right, he hopes you answer differently.

“Yup!”

His shoulders sag.

“How about kayaking instead?” he suggests. It’s something he can sit down and only have to move his arms every so often. His legs are already aching at the thought of pedaling for hours.

“We did that two days ago,” you huff and grab the sunscreen. You squirt some on your fingertips then smear it across his face.

He swats your hands away and begins rubbing it in—though, not without sending you a (harmless) glare.

You shrug and explain, “You weren’t doing it, and we’re losing daylight. Hurry, Joong!”

Hongjoong had always thought he knew when to say no, but if that were true, he wouldn’t be seated in a generic blue boat with an already-wet butt.

“How do we steer this?” you question beside him.

He glances around, then points to the steering handle that’s in between you.

You grab it and tug, feeling something shift before you start going in a new direction.

“We’re doing so good, Joongie!” you exclaim with a smile.

Hongjoong’s eyes cast down briefly at your lips before averting his gaze. Despite his aching legs, he’s happy to see you smile so freely.

He admits to himself the view is beautiful, peaceful even, and he tries to focus on that instead of the pain.

Thankfully, the boating only lasts for an hour, with a few breaks here and there, and then you’re both taking showers. 

Hongjoong arrives at the campsite before you, so he rests his sore legs while he can in his hammock.

He doesn’t realize he fell asleep until he’s being prodded with something.

His eyes peel open reluctantly. He gets a glimpse of you pulling away and figures you just poked him awake.

“I really wore you out, hm?” you giggle.

You’re standing near him, smiling down at him with a hand on your hip.

Hongjoong grins lazily and sits up; his legs are on either side of the hammock. The sun behind you casts a soft outer glow around your body. He thinks you look stunning and wishes he had his camera to remember this moment.

“You did,” he hums, voice low and slightly gravelly from exhaustion.

You bite your lip and look away for a moment. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” he shrugs.

“Then let’s eat before it gets dark,” you instruct.

Hongjoong nods, and you step away to gather the ingredients.

You and Hongjoong prepare dinner with minimal conversation. For some, the silence may be uncomfortable, but with you, Hongjoong’s at ease. He enjoys the simple sounds of chopping food, birds chirping, and sizzling meat.

When you’re both done eating and seated around the fireplace, Hongjoong’s mind wanders.

The dancing flames in front of you both and the soft crackling of the fire provide a peaceful atmosphere that he gets lost in.

Had anyone else asked to go on a five-day camping trip, he would’ve refused profusely. Had anyone else asked to go kayaking, play sand volleyball, or go paddle boating, he would’ve declined and sat on the sidelines. But because it was you who had asked, he had said yes.

He finds he says yes to you more than anyone.

“Joong,” your voice lulls him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” He looks at you.

“Try this,” you offer and present him a s’more. The marshmallow is burnt to perfection and the chocolate is quickly melting.

Hongjoong opens his mouth, letting you bring the treat to his lips. The bite he takes causes the dessert to ooze into your hand and you pull away to lick at it.

He chews slowly as he watches you.

“How is it?” you ask, licking the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he replies while chewing.

“Something wrong?” you question and take a bite of the s’more you made.

Hongjoong fidgets in his camp chair, debating on telling you what he’s been hiding. You eye him as you eat, though don’t say anything as you wait.

When you finally nudge him with your leg, he sighs and rests his elbows on his knees—eyes focused on the flames.

“I think I like you,” he confesses.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, and it causes Hongjoong’s heart to thump rapidly in his chest.

“You think?” you ask, but there’s a hint of playfulness to your voice that informs him you’re not mad.

He glances back at you.

You’ve finished the s’more and are cleaning your hands with a wipe. There’s not an ounce of surprise on your face, which he finds a little odd.

“No! I know I like you,” he quickly corrects. “I like you.”

You smile and lean on your knees as well.

“Prove it.”

“W-what?” he asks, eyes growing.

“Prove you like me.”

“I’m here, no?”

You smirk and lean closer.

“That’s true,” you pause, “but I want something more.”

“More?” he repeats, trying not to glance at your lips that are so near.

“More, Hongjoong.”

He sits still as he tries to understand what you’re wanting. It’s not until you inch closer that he gets it and quickly leans in the rest of the way.

You smile instantly when his lips touch yours, a hand coming up to card through his hair.

Hongjoong carefully slides off his chair to kneel between your legs—lips still on yours and hands resting on your hips.

The kiss goes on for a while longer before you’re both pulling apart with smiles adorning your faces.

“I like you, too, Joongie,” you say.

“I get the feeling you knew I liked you for a while,” Hongjoong comments.

You give him a guilty smile and straighten your posture.

“Maybe,” you reply.

“For how long?”

“A while,” you trail off.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he frowns.

You push his hair off his face to see him clearly.

“Because I needed a camping buddy,” you tease before pressing a quick kiss to his exposed forehead.

He groans and rests his head against your tummy. You laugh, ruffling his hair.

“I’m getting you back somehow,” he mumbles.

“Hm, okay,” you reply, then gently ease his face away from your body. “But for now, we should get some sleep. We have to wake up early to pack tomorrow.”

Hongjoong exhales a deep breath at the idea of taking down the tent. It was a pain to put up—at least for him—so the thought of taking it down sounds just as troublesome. He’s tempted to tell you to leave it and buy another one for next time… If there’s a next time.

“One more kiss?” he asks.

You grin and nod, lowering your face to his.

Hongjoong’s not sure if the craving for more comes from his fondness for you or the taste of the s’more from earlier. Regardless, he pulls away before he deepens the kiss any more.

“Does this mean you’ll be mine?” he wonders.

“Ask me,” you reply.

He smiles and takes hold of one of your hands.

“Yn, will you be mine?”

“Yes.”

A/N: I haven't been camping in a while! I miss it 🥲 Has anyone else gone camping? Did you like it?

taglist: @nina-at-any-time, @jexizia, @ssaboala

©️mimikookie // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[hwangphoria]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○

I Miss My Ex… | Seo Changbin

CHANGBIN X FEM READER.

Genre: Angst. Sad. Communication issues.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚

“I just feel like he’s lost interest in me, you know? And I don’t want to misjudge it because I know he’s just busy and probably worn out… but it hurts. Anytime we’re together he’s on his phone most of the time or sleeping.”

I let out a deep sigh as I laid back onto my bed, pulling the covers back up and over my body as I had been previously before, sitting on FaceTime with my best friend Yeonjun, ranting to him about all of my problems.

He’s such a good friend.

I’m ranting about my boyfriend Changbin, and I love him, and no I’m not cheating on him with Yeonjun. I get shivers just at the thought of me doing anything like that.

He’s just… he overworks himself and whenever he comes home, he greets me most times, but he’s always on his phone whenever he’s around me… and it feels like he’s losing interest in me.

I know he loves me, believe me. I think he’s just depressed, and no matter how much I try to get him to talk to me he just won’t open up.

It’s worrying me, Because usually he’s a mushy clingy baby whenever he’s around me.

“You know how it is, Y/N. He’s an idol, and he’s having a comeback soon, he’s probably worn out because he works for a douchebag, JYP is tough, I’m so glad I didn’t get in there.”

He sighed, explaining a possible answer to me, knowing that he was right, making my heart ache in worry and pain for Changbin.

JYP is seriously a Piece of Shit.

“Well, do you have any idea of what I could do to get him to pay the slightest bit of attention to me Mr. Choi Bighit idol duDe.”

I mocked him, causing him to roll his eyes sassily before a soft smile teased at both of our lips, shaking his head before he seriously began to think of something that could work.

“Well… you know after a long day you usually get on YouTube and watch random shit. And I saw this prank that might work,”

He spoke, causing me to immediately roll my eyes and shake my head in response to the idea. I already know what he was gonna say. One of those mean stupid ass couple pranks.

“No Jun. Those are mean and I’m trying to get him to pay attention to me and not leave me.”

“But they work! He won’t leave you. Come on, if you're THAT desperate then at least just listen to what I have to suggest.”

He rebutted, causing a deep exasperated sigh to escape my lips as I shifted in my spot and thought about it for a few moments.

This could work… I’ve also watched these videos on YouTube and most of the time they work.

“Alright whatever loser just tell me what it is, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it for sure… I just wanna know.”

“SO. There was this one I saw where she waited until they both got in bed at night, and when he came back from the bathroom she was scrolling through her exes Instagram, sighing dramatically and falsely of course. And her boyfriend had already noticed this and was already pretty mad, but then she said I miss you out loud, and it was… this whole big thing. And eventually they made up by the end of the video.”

It was almost as if Choi Yeonjun was proud of himself for bringing up such a dumb ass idea, leaning back into his chair with his arms crossed, his face smug as I sat there, my eyebrows scrunched together as I was so highly unamused.

“How in the world do you find that entertaining, I mean… Why would you intentionally hurt your partner?” I questioned.

“Y/N, it’s not real. It’s completely fake. If you do it, it makes him realize maybe I’m not treating her well enough and I need to step up my game.”

Okay… even though it’s mean… I have to admit that the psychology does seem pretty convincing…

I sat there and thought for a few moments, subconsciously biting on the inside of my cheek as I debated my options, looking at Yeonjun’s face, a deep sigh escaping my lips as I shook my head.

I can’t believe I’m gonna do this.

“Fine. But if my relationship falls between the cracks I’m blaming you Choi Yeonjun. I will set fire to twt about you know WHAT.”

“I’m hanging up now you little shit.”

His eyes narrowed as he rolled them soon after, grabbing his phone as he uncrossed his arms, waving at the camera before hanging up the phone, leaving me to sit there in silence with my own thoughts.

Yeonjun should be the last person I take advice from…but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.

***TIME SKIP***

I’m going to quite literally explode into a million pieces.

It was currently 10:30 pm and there was no sign of Changbin anywhere. Not even a Text yet, and he always texts me when he’s on his way home so he can grab dinner beforehand and asks me what I want…

All of a sudden my tummy began to rumble at the mental cue, a sigh escaping from my lips as I looked out the living room window, down at the city in front of me.

This prank has been weighing on my mind all day, and I even went and bought a new shirt in the men’s department and had it on since so maybe he’d think it was someone else’s….

That sounded less cruel in my head but whatever.

Without even another thought, the sound of the keypad filled my ears, my eyes widening as I perked up and made my way over to the front door as he had walked inside, my heart beginning to race.

I missed him so much.

“Hi baby, how was workies?”

I asked softly, as he turned around to face me, a soft but tired smile taking over his lips as he ruffled my hair and walked past me and headed into the kitchen, bag of food in his hands.

Well at least we’ll get to eat together.

I thought to myself as I followed him into the kitchen as if I were a lost puppy, a slight pout on my face as he didn’t even notice my new shirt, sitting down at the bar, waiting for him to sit across from me…. But he never did.

Instead he set the bag down in front of me and turned around to head upstairs to the bedroom, causing me to take ahold of his hand, my heart practically broken into a million pieces at this point.

“Baby, sit down and eat with me! You had a long day, you must be hungry.” I pleaded.

“I’m not hungry Y/N. I ate with the boys. I’m just exhausted, okay? I just need to sleep. I’ll be upstairs. I'm gonna shower.”

He said, his tone so nonchalant it felt as if my heart was going to burst any second. Letting go of his hand, I nodded and let my eyes trail after him until he disappeared upstairs into the bedroom.

I guess it's prank time.

After putting the food in the fridge to be eaten later, I headed on back upstairs after him. Once I was in the bedroom I heard the shower running, sitting down at my vanity and beginning to unwind for the day.

After taking off my makeup and putting on my moisturizer and night cream, I quickly put on my pajamas and my glasses and crawl under the covers, my back facing the bathroom door.

Eventually he had finished his shower, and I was scrolling through my exes page, about to quite literally barf in my mouth because I cannot even stand the thought of this mother fucker.

Hearing the door click open, I act as if I don’t hear it, a sigh escaping my lips as per cue as I continued on, my heart breaking even more, not because of my ex, but because I felt stupid… having to do this to even get his attention.

Just notice me god damn it.

I then felt him lay next to me, the click of his phone charger and the sound of a sigh slipping past his lips as I felt the tears begin to prickle at the brinks of my eyes, the lump in my throat so big.

Hearing him settle in and finally stop moving is when I completely lost it….

I can’t do this stupid prank.

I started sobbing. Turning off my phone and practically throwing it on the nightstand, burying my face in the pillow as I felt my body practically melting as my heart had finally shattered.

How could he not even acknowledge me in the slightest? Am I really not important to him anymore?

I heard the light click on as I tried to steady my breaths as I cried into the pillow but I failed miserably. A few moments later I felt two arms wrap around me, and pull me to sit up straight…

I knew it was Changbin.

Not wanting to face him, I quickly took my hands and covered my eyes with them as I continued on with my cries… but it didn’t take him long to take hold of them and force me to look at him… I finally broke down.

“I tried to do Yeonjun’s stupid fucking prank to get your attention but I just couldn’t… I just…” I tried to catch my breath from crying so much and trying to talk…

“I just want you to love me again. I want to have even an ounce of your attention. Do you even love me…”

I finally managed to get out, feeling my breathing begin to calm down as the crying became less uncontrollable, his eyes looking in mine as they were filled with worry, his eyebrows scrunched together making him look all the more handsome.

I love him so much…

“Y/n what in the world are you talking about?”

He questioned, causing a huff to escape my lips, shaking my head and looking down at my lap.

“I just… don’t feel like you love me anymore. And I was trying to get your attention today… by wearing a stupid shirt I bought at the men’s section, and I was scrolling through my exes Instagram… to get your attention, per Yeonjun’s recommendation…. But I’ve consistently failed.”

I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around him, and buried my head into his shoulder, my tear stained cheeks soaking his black shirt.

I heard him let out a sigh as he pulled me onto his lap, feeling his hand on the back of my head as he pet my hair softly, calming me down almost instantly.

He always knew how.

“Baby. I’ve just been busy. And I… seriously just haven’t had any energy lately… with the comeback coming soon they have been pushing us to our limits. But I guess I let it get the best of me. I didn’t know you felt like that.”

I looked up at him to see the pout on his lips and the tear run down his cheeks as I sniffled myself and kissed his cheek.

“I just miss you…”

“I know my sweet baby. But… I’ve been neglecting you, and I know that. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. Regardless of the schedule tomorrow… I’m going to take a break. I’ll take tomorrow off and spend it with you.”

I shook my head in response to his words, feeling his thumbs wipe my tears from my eyes.

“No, binnie, I don’t wanna be selfish. That’s your job and I shouldn’t get in-“

He cut me off by pushing his lips onto mine, humming softly before he pulled away and looked into my eyes, taking ahold of my hands and interlacing our fingers.

“I’m doing it because I want to. Because I love you.”

He whispered softly and I nodded in response, my heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Good girl.”

I practically turned into jelly at those words, thinking for a few moments before taking his shoulders into my hands and pushing his back to the bed, reaching back over and clicking off the lamp my heart nearly racing out of my chest.

“Y/N what are you…”

“Let me take care of you.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆

[kenjakusbraincum]

the way i just binged all ur fics and drabbles.. scrolled through ur account 4 a while too 💀😭 UR SWAN LAKE FIC MADE ME COMBUST IN THE BEST WAY I HAVE THAT FEELING IN MY STOMACH WHERE LIKE UR ALL HAPPY AND GIDDY N SHIT hehe it made me lowkey wanna learn sm graceful thing

ugh i love sukuna 2 so much hes so 😝😫😫😫😫 like if he threatened 2 kidnap me and make me his whore or smt like... DONT THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME?!!? i would fall to my knees if i saw him

also also do u think the Vows!Sukuna would bury his [dead] s/o? or would he js eat them 💀 like do u think he'd have a teensy tiny funeral for her with him and the burial of her? or like a pretty big-ish one with most of the servants/uraume? idk it crossedmy mind js now

ur writing is also so good.. i love the way u write sukuna 😫 hes even more hot ngl like a man of the arts!?! sign me tf UPPPPPPPP

wait also also imagine sukuna with a painter s/o!?! AAA THEY [I] WOULD PAINT HIM STUFF OMGGGG <333 THAT'D BE SO CUTE?? like imagine as a gift [like the reverance!s/o that gave him the crochet dollys] they made a painting of them worshipping him? [yk those religious paintings where they paint god what if the s/o painted him like that all god-like and shit FALFNAOGNOL] or painting the garden?? mayb a painting with the blood of his enemies LOL but ghfhhf that'd b so cute [i am a casual painter this was self indulgent bc i would absolutely do all of these things] like mayb they go outside js 2 pain 4 funsies [sukuna may indulge this but he'd get jealous like how when reverance!s/o picked up crocheting LMAO]

this is getting rlly long i luv u bestie [ur my bestie now]

Ahh I noticed all the notifications and omg THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! You left a sweet comment on everything, I'm so grateful for the dedication!! I'll get back to each one I promise 🥺🥺

I'm so happy you liked Swan lake so much!! It's one of my flop fics that ppl don't talk about as much, like I get double the comments for Vows and Reverence still every day, MONTHS after writing them and Swan lake is always kinda forgotten 😭 Which is a shame bc I really put my whole kenjakusbraincumussy into writing it, like I was writing it really intensively for days on end 😭

See I was thinking about how Vows Sukuna would've disposed of reader. I don't think he would eat them just bc at the point when they die there's really not much left to eat of them 😭 Maybe he'd keep one of their bones as a souvenir. Like a little rib of theirs maybe. I'm not sure if he would make a funeral, but if he did it definitely wouldn't have included many people, maybe just the servants that were really close to reader. I think he would cremate them with his fires, that would be a nice personal sendoff.

Sukuna being cultured and a man of the arts is just my favorite thing because it's so subversive. He's a big ass guy who also happens to look like a monster, is known only for his strengths in the battlefield and how funny is it to come into his house and see pretty paintings and statues and his personal little orchestra of musicians and dancers that keep him entertained when he's bored?? How funny is it to imagine him closing a book and being like that one was a banger.

ABOUT THE PAINTING S/O... I draw as a hobby and I absolutely think about this all the time 😭 But I must admit I've thought more about the other way around where Sukuna commissions an artist to paint reader so he can always remember their beauty even when their little human lifetime passes, so their face can always grace the hallways of his mansion and people who walk buy can wonder, who is this pretty person? Why are there so many paintings of them everywhere? AHHH Sukuna 💔💔

[linosbundles]

7pm || hoshi

Genres : fluff

Word count : 1.2k {1215 words}

warnings : established relationship, mentions of food

a/n : i seriously suck at this whole warnings thing. if i have to add any or if something is unnecessary please let me know 😭 i wrote this because i was inspired by the song and my recent walk to the beach but seriously. isn't 7pm just such a wonderful song 🥺🥺💗💖

Summary : just another date with your longtime boyfriend

written in reader's pov

it’s wednesday. my favourite day of the week. oh, I’m not crazy… yet. I know that it’s a day that most of the working population hates, well other than monday. but wednesday…

we chose this day for a reason, of course. the very same reason that everyone dislikes the day for. since it’s right in the middle of the week, unable to have hope for the weekend but also unable to loosen up because the week just started.

to not hate the day like the rest, and to have some motivation, every wednesday is our recharge day.

wednesday 7pm is the one moment I wait for every week. I get to see my tiger baby. well, I was forced into calling him tiger baby and then it kinda grew on me, but no, I will not admit that in front of him… getting back to the point, it’s 5:50pm right now, I’m stuck at my desk for 10 more minutes for me to clock out. all I have to do is check some data and mail it to seungkwan and I’m done.

y/n : baby y/n : babe y/n : babbbbbbeeeeeeeeeeeee y/n : babyeyeeyeyye y/n : baaaaaaaaabeyeyey tiger baby <3 : I’m assuming ur not drunk yet and ur juz missing me y/n : bingo y/n : can’t wait to see u later tiger baby <3 : same babe tiger baby <3 : i’ll pick u up at 7 y/n : luv u tiger baby <3 : luv u too tiger baby <3 : now finish up soon and leave tiger baby <3 : need to see u at 7 sharp y/n : can’t even waste a moment without me eh? tiger baby <3 : bingo y/n : not u using my “bingo” when u say it’s weird all the time tiger baby <3 : sometimes I like to flatter u y/n : right tiger baby <3 : see u soon y/n : see u luv

okay. I’ve got this.

using 7pm as my motivation yet again, I checked the data pretty quickly and mailed it too. but the thing is, I’ve mailed it to seungkwan. and he’s definitely going to be here in 3, 2, 1—“missed me already?”

rolling my eyes in the most noticeable way, i replied coldly.

“it’s a work mail, seungkwan. get over it.”

“oh come on, we all know you love me.” he said with playfully shiny eyes and smug all over his face.

as much as he was cute, he was annoying too and he was fixated that I was in love with him, despite the fact that I made it very clear that I had a boyfriend, multiple times at that.

“in your dreams.”

“at least there then.” he winked and left.

not having enough time for seungkwan’s drama, I packed up quickly and headed home, right as it ticked 6.

getting all excited for the date, I couldn’t erase the smile off my face. seems like the obvious little smile was too obvious to go unnoticed, I could feel people staring. but who cares, I have a cute boyfriend to see at 7pm.

it’s been over 2 years since we started this tradition, a bit more than 2 years since we started dating, not to mention the painful 1 year of secretly pining over each other in the name of being friends. yet I’m always excited when it’s date day.

oh no, we don’t have any special story behind how we met though, isn’t it important how special our love is instead?

we just met at vernon’s party 4 years ago. yes, nothing special. we just randomly danced together and seemed to find each other interesting and became friends.

man, little did I know that night, that he would be the love of my life.

alright, let’s put the thoughts away for a while.

tiger baby <3 : it’s 6:59 and I’m at your doorstep tiger baby <3 : open the door exactly in tiger baby <3 : 6 tiger baby <3 : 5 tiger baby <3 : 4 tiger baby <3 : 3 y/n : hi love tiger baby <3 : 2 y/n : oh tiger baby <3 : I see you luv y/n : I see you too luv

standing there, my boyfriend, my love, kwon soonyoung, handed me flowers. now that’s a surprise. he rarely buys me flowers. but these are so pretty! I love it!!

“right on time love.” he smiled brightly.

I received the flowers and returned his bright smile. “baby, thank you, I love them.”

knowing what more he needed than those words, I pulled him into a hug and gave him a small kiss on his ear.

we left for our date.

it’s usually not very grand. we just walk along the long road that leads to the beach since my house is pretty close to it.

strolling through, we also have a lot of snacks while we’re headed towards the beach and light dinner on our way back.

there’s nothing much to it but doing this, even if it’s repeated and could be boring if done alone or with someone else, since it’s with him, it feels like a new experience every time. even if it’s once every month, and it’s like the 19th time we’re doing this together, still feels new.

“so, how was your day?” he asked.

I started ranting about my whole day and then it was my turn to listen to him rant. and once we were done with that, we had some light talks about random topics or about our friends or our future while eating those snacks.

but once we reach the beach, we switch our silent modes on.

literally, on our phones yes, but also our mouths. we don’t talk there for half an hour, it’s just us, laying down on the sand, listening to our beach playlist and the waves, and looking at the sky.

we’ve done this so many times but I don’t think I’ve asked him what he thinks about during that half an hour. I spend the whole 30 minutes thinking about how pretty he is and how much I love him and how grateful I am to have this wonderful person in my life, as the love of my life.

by the end of the 30 minutes, we both get sleepy so we leave for dinner.

then we go on a long walk to ease the digestion.

once back at home, we get ready to sleep.

we can’t afford to stay up late when we’re both working adults. having an evening off every week is fairytale-like enough for our economy.

snuggling into the sheets he wrapped his arms around me, “good night love.” he whispered in my ear and hugged me tighter.

“it would be a goodnight if I could breathe babe.” I joked, making him loosen his grip a bit.

it wasn’t even a few minutes after that I already find him asleep.

the way his eyes were closed and his hair had fallen towards his sides as he laid down next to me, the way his breath was also a nice sound for me, oh how hopelessly in love I was with him. I smiled and whispered into his ears,

“good night tiger baby.”

[tinycatstars]

Hi! Late to the writing rq'ing party probably because I'm Nervous tm but if its cool to ask for VE as well, can I ask for little Murrit and little Dismas, maybe destressing together after a rough day? I hc Murrit really likes bunnies and Dismas loves dragons, I think they'd like to share their plushies with each other. :}

-comfybuckets

AAA OMG!!! u are one of my fav ao3 authors !! i literally luv ur work so much, its actually what originally got me into ve !!! :D

i really hope u like this! its loosely based off of some of ur fics lol but yeaaa ! <3 <3

also lil warning there is some cussing in this btw !

Dismas’s day had been awful. 

He had been running from his lusus all day, finally taking refuge in a small cavern situated near his hive. It was just deep enough that the troll could hide in it without being spotted. He sat on the ground, trying to catch his breath and calm himself down. Small scratches covered Dismas’s body from falling earlier, but other than that, he was okay. 

The troll was just so, so tired. Tired from running, tired from the constant fear and adrenaline running in his body, tired of the stupid skulltitan that was always hunting him down. He wanted nothing more than to be somewhere soft, welcoming, and comforting. Somewhere familiar, somewhere that wasn’t here.

As much as he pained to admit it, he wanted to be with his kismesis. He missed Murrit, with his stupid endearing smile and his stupid comforting hive. 

While adult Dismas wanted to pretend like he didn’t need the other, little Dizzy just wanted to curl up in Murrit’s arms and cry, letting out his fear and frustration. He learned a while ago that the other troll had a surprising soft side that not many got to see often. A side that was really only meant for little Dizzy to see.

Dismas huffed, pulling out his phone from his pant’s pocket. He opens Skorp, and after a moment of hesitation, he begins to message Murrit.

gigantisDebilitation [GD] began trolling unclaspedKahuna [UK] at 6:37 PM

GD: Hey///

GD: /\re you /\t your hive?///

UK: >([ya w#at do u want]

GD: C/\n I come over?///

UK: >([i mean yea sure y t#o?]

UK: >([r u like? ok? srsly?]

GD: Ye/\h just///

GD: I need to get /\w/\y for /\ bit///

The troll cringed at his own message. What he really wanted to say was, “Hey, I really need to get away from this stupid fucking lizard and be small with you, please let me come over”, but Dismas knew he couldn’t send that. That would definitely freak Murrit out.

He takes another breath, quickly typing out another message before Murrit could respond to his last.

GD: My d/\y h/\s just been re/\lly b/\d /\nd I need some time to regress///

GD: /\nd I’d r/\ther do it with you///

GD: If th/\t’s ok/\y///

Dismas internally kicks himself. He really hopes Murrit doesn’t say anything about how desperate he sounded to come over.

UK: >([tb# ive felt p itty bity 2 today]

UK: >([so ya come over n we can c#ill]

UK: >([we can b small toget#errr lolol]

GD: Ok/\y///

gigantisDebilitation [GD] gave up trolling unclaspedKahuna [UK] at 6:51 PM

The troll lets out a sigh of relief. With only minimal grunting, Dismas got up from his spot and headed towards his hive to grab his spare go bag, which was home to all his little supplies. 

His body aches as he runs, but he knows it’ll be worth it if he can just get to Murrit’s house.

…

Murrit’s head hurt. A lot.

As much as she’d like to record the fight between shitlizard and Dismas, she really didn’t feel like it. The whole “fun exploitation theatrics” wasn’t sitting right with Murrit today, for some odd reason. Something about it made their stomach hurt, whether it was from the guilt or the blood, he wasn’t sure.

Still, they sat at their desk, staring at the screens in front of her. Her eyes burned from looking into them, studying them intently. He didn’t sleep the night before, just glaring blindly at the monitors until his vision went blurry. Despite how they acted, they really did care for their friends. That’s why she had to stay up, to make sure they all stay safe.

Especially Dismas, but he ignores that thought. She could only watch so much of today’s brawl before she switched to watching another camera, one that didn’t include her kismesis. They couldn’t do it today.

He just felt so off, like he wasn’t in his own body. Everything she did felt like she was puppeteering someone else into acting like a normal troll, but they weren’t a normal troll. He felt so small, smaller than he should. Sometimes it scared him when he got like this. It’s scary to go through… whatever this is alone. Some of his other friends had explained it to her before, saying that they went through it also. Something to do with trauma, or stress, or maybe both? She wasn’t sure, her head wasn't thinking straight.

But, even if being… small? Yes, that’s the word. If being small was scary, it wasn’t scary with Dismas or Albion or Sova. They all made things right, they made her feel right. 

He… he missed Dismas a lot right now. That’s why whenever the other had messaged him about coming over for some time to destress, of course she said yes. How could she not? She needed this as much as he did, and if they had to do it together, then they would. 

They can’t remember a time where she and Dismas had fallen into that headspace together. He doesn’t think they have done that before. It should be ok, right?

Murrit was doubting themselves. Her head is hurting badly now, the pounding of the migraine overtaking her thoughts. She lays her head down on the desk, closing his eyes to try to calm down. He couldn’t bring himself to move and get his medication, so this would have to do.

Breathe in, breathe out. It’s ok, you’re ok, Dizzy is on his way. He can help. 

They stayed like that for a while, eyes screwed shut to keep out any light that was coming from the computer screens, head resting on the desk. He was finally starting to calm himself down before Dismas arrived. They’d hate to put any more stress on the other troll by freaking out once he got here.

After a while, Murrit hears a knock at the door, causing the troll to jump in her seat. He gets up too fast, almost tripping on the way to unlock the door to their hive. 

As soon as the door is opened, Dismas stumbles into Murrit, wrapping his arms tightly around the other to encase her in a hug. Murrit hugs the other back, holding him gently. He was shaking, and even though no noise was escaping the boy, they could tell he was crying. Murrit tightens the hug, holding Dizzy close and allowing the other to sob into her shoulder. Murry had started to let her own tears fall, mostly out of relief that Dizzy was here, but some out of pain. Their migraine had gotten really bad, their head throbbing from every quiet cry she had let out.

The two sat like that for a while, crying and holding each other to comfort one another. It wasn’t until their sobs had quieted when they pulled away. Dizzy looked… bad. Some of his clothes were ripped up, his bandana falling down his face, his hair sticking up in every other direction. There was still fear in his eyes from earlier. He was clutching his overnight bag like it was a lifeline, like he was afraid he would lose it if he let go.

Murry didn’t look any better. His hair was a curly mess, his eye bags extremely prominent from the lack of sleep. Tears streaked her face, much like Dizzy’s. There was fear in her eyes as well, but not the same as Dizzy’s. Their fear was from being vulnerable, being in that headspace around others, a fear that they still hadn’t conquered.

Dizzy moves his bandana back up his face and asks “Uh… you okay?” His voice was low and quiet, and he spoke carefully as if he was still figuring out which words meant what. Murry starts to nod, before stopping himself. They shook their head slowly, a guilty look covering her face. 

“Me too”, Dizzy says. “S’ okay, though. We can just… just relax today.” Murry hums in agreement.

Dizzy looked around Murry’s hive, it was extremely hard considering how dark it was. He squinted to see the room was covered in dirty clothes, loose papers, unused electrical wiring. Despite how messy it was, it was oddly comforting to the troll. The mess showed that it was lived in, specifically by Murrit. It was kind of nice.

The younger of the two holds out her hand to Dizzy, silently asking him to take it. The older drops his bag first and then takes their hand, leading Murry throughout their own hive. Her other hand was twisted into her shirt, holding onto it for dear life. It was something Dizzy had noticed they did whenever they were nervous. He was confused about why Murry was so nervous, but didn’t say anything. They could always talk about it later, after all.

Murry lets out a quiet whine as the two are walking through the messy hive. Dizzy turns around to check on the other, only to find that the other troll’s eyes are screwed shut in pain. They moved their free hand from their shirt to their head, his palm pressed against his forehead. 

“What’s wrong?” Dizzy asks, concerned. 

Murry whines again, saying “Mm…m’ head hurts”. Dizzy frowns, ultimately deciding that their mission right now would be to go find some medicine for Murry.

The older troll squeezes Murry’s hand, then begins to lead him to the bathroom. Dizzy had been here enough times to know how to navigate through the other’s hive, even if he was feeling little and his thinkpan wasn’t working at full capacity.

He quickly found Murry’s migraine relief meds in the bathroom cabinet, only struggling a little with the child-proof cap. He hands the other regressor the pill, who just looks up at Dizzy and frowns.

“Drink”, they state, holding the pill in their first up to Dizzy.

“Oh, okay”, the older says. They head for the kitchen, with Dizzy almost tripping on a random pile of keyboards only once. He heads for the cabinets, grabbing Murry’s purple sippy cup. He smiled fondly behind his bandana, remembering how Albion had gifted this to him. She had gotten Dizzy one similar to Murry’s, except his was orange.

 He fills the little’s cup with water and hands it back to her. Murry makes a face before taking the pill, gulping down most of the water in the cup afterwards.

“What do you wanna do now?” Dizzy questions.

“Play?” Murry quietly suggests, holding his sippy back to his mouth again. He takes a few more sips, finishing the water completely and setting the cup back in the sink.

“Yeah!” the other troll agrees, running back into the other room to retrieve his bag. Murry begins to follow along before stopping once they see Dizzy running back into the kitchen. He excitedly runs back to Murry, his bag in hand.

Dizzy kneels on the floor and opens the duffle, and Murry peeks inside. He sees extra clothes, some toys, a plushie, and some other plastic, brightly colored things that Murry thinks are pacifiers and teethers. Murry joins the other on the floor, rocking back and forth as he waits for Dizzy to find whatever he was searching for.

“Murry! Look!” Dizzy exclaims, pulling out the plushie. It was a cream-colored dragon with orange eyes. The plush looks extremely squishable and soft. The dragon was in a laying down position, the kind that dogs do whenever they want to play. Murry guesses this was how the dragon let other stuffed animals know that it wanted to play, too.

The younger smiles, reaching out a hand to pet Dizzy’s comfort item. She was right, he was soft!

“Have a plush, too!” Murry says, and gets up off the floor to run to their room. Dizzy follows behind her with his dragon in hand.

Once they reach the bedroom, Murry digs through his closet to find his friend. They eventually pull out a lavender bunny plush that resembled a lionhead rabbit. It was old, like Murry had had it since she was a hatchling. Her plushie was very fluffy, it looked just as soft as Dizzy’s dragon. 

The troll pushes out the bunny for Dizzy to feel. He hesitates before sticking out his hand, petting the other’s very loved stuffed animal. Even if you couldn’t see his mouth, you could tell Dizzy was smiling. Murry was smiling right back at him, a soft laugh escaping her mouth.

The two situate themselves on the floor and begin to play, each coming up with ridiculous and impractical adventures for their little friends to go on. The bunny and dragon had become friends after the dragon had almost eaten Mr. Bunny, and now they were to travel the world together!

Murry could feel their headache melt away with all the fun they were having together. Dizzy did most of the talking, putting on silly voices for his dragon and the other people they had come across on their escapades. Murry would hum or laugh, sometimes making Mr. Bunny talk. The other regressor didn’t seem to mind how quiet Murry was, being that Dizzy could probably talk for the both of them currently.

‘We should regress together more often’, Dizzy thinks, and judging by Murry’s bright smile as they continue to play, she thought the same thing.

[jeanbie]

hello😭😭 your jake series, fantasizs, got me ACTIN UP FR FR NO CAP 100% ON MY MAMA😭😭😫😫😖😖😖😵‍💫😣😵‍💫😵‍💫😖😣😭😭😭😭 it has me going so feral for avatar!jake and human!jake and just jake in general bc the way you write him is so 🤌🤌🫶🫶🫦🫦 like— pls i luv ur brain sm (fantasize is definitely my #1 fav avatar fic/series rn. shit's got me waiting every other MINUTE for the last chapter!!! pls pls pls i need to know how it's gonna end (not pressuring u, i just rlly love the way u write in general, literally i could write u an essay abt everthing that i love abt fantasize if tumblr didn't have a letter limit on asks😭😭😭) iahwndjshsnishsbsjsjhsjshsjshhshs

HHAHHA thank you sooooo much !!!

i definitely 100% plan to finish fantasize - lately, i've just been busy with work and also...catching feelings...against my better judgement....for a man who i don't think i'm destined to be with. and it's soooooo painful

i also feel the pressure building for the contents of finale; i had ideas planned but i just want everyone to be happy since it has grown so much <33 i promise it is coming in the future, just not immediately. i've been lazy, i admit...