#but now I feel high from the laughter so I need to share this cursed delusion with whoever will listen to me

[coinsweepermaster]

Ok, so I have a lot of things to say about tonight's episode, but for the sake of brevity, I'll just point out the most insane thing about this:

Okay, so. Buck wants Tommy to move in, right? Tells him that they can have a life together. But then Tommy does the equivalent of saying "I don't love you" (which doesn't mean that he doesn't care about Buck (saying this because I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea; I like both BuckTommy and Buddie)) and LEAVES. ALIVE. And where is he going? Well, idk that night, but his job is to fly a helicopter. In the sky. A place where you usually look when your referencing a certain place that starts with a H. But since he won't actually be in that place, you might say he's in the mediocre version of it. And when he leaves, he says "Buck" which has big implications considering he's only called him Evan in the past.

Add this with the fact that the word "joy" was said right after this happened, and that Buck doesn't say a single word while in Eddie's house...

Not to mention that a certain character in a prominent ship that has floated around for years said in this episode that he was straight (which some people have started debating whether or not that's true) and the episode came 2 days after election day...

And the last scene in the episode! If that's not a meme format...

They've done it folks. They made the converse of Despair. W. T. F.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

Tags: @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp@localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[pankowcrumbs]

Accidental bump X Joe Keery (requested)

MasterList

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

The morning sunlight streams through the tall windows of the bridal suite, painting the room in golden warmth. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognising myself. The dress is elegant, soft ivory lace with delicate beadwork that shimmers with every movement. My hair has been curled just so, swept to one side, pinned with a small, simple clip something borrowed. The lipstick is subtle, barely there. But it’s my eyes that give me away. They’re wide, a little watery, brimming with disbelief.

I’m getting married today.

To him.

Joe.

It still feels surreal, even now. The world knows him as the charming actor with the disarming smile, the hair that refuses to behave, and a laugh that can light up a room. But to me, he’s so much more. He’s the boy who helped pick up my books in a hallway a lifetime ago. The boy who smiled at me like I belonged before I even believed it myself.

As I wait for the signal to walk down the aisle, I find myself drifting back to the first time we met.

It was my first day at a new school. I’d just moved across states, forced to leave behind everything I knew friends, teachers, the tiny coffee shop on the corner where I used to revise after class. I remember gripping my books tightly to my chest as I wandered the crowded hallway, trying not to look completely lost, even though I had no clue where I was going.

The corridor buzzed with the usual chaos of teenagers between periods lockers slamming, laughter echoing, shoes squeaking on polished floors. I was scanning the door numbers, heart racing, when it happened.

Bang.

Someone collided with me at full force.

My books flew out of my hands, pages fluttering across the floor like startled birds. I stumbled backward, startled, cheeks burning in humiliation. Great. Just what I needed.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” a voice said, hurried and apologetic.

Before I could even register what had happened, the boy was already crouched down, scrambling to gather my books. His voice was warm, breathless. “Didn’t see you there.”

I dropped to my knees beside him, still a little dazed. “It’s fine. I was in the way.”

“Nah, it’s my fault. I came out of that class like a bat out of hell.”

When I finally looked up, really looked, my breath caught in my throat.

He was cute. No more than cute. He had thick, dark hair that flopped over his forehead, eyes that were soft but mischievous, and a smile that curled at the corners like he was constantly on the verge of saying something cheeky.

He held out a slightly crumpled notebook. “This yours?”

I nodded, taking it from him. “Thanks.”

“New, right?” he asked, standing up and offering his hand to help me up.

I hesitated for a second before taking it. “Yeah. Just moved here.”

“Well, welcome to Kingston High,” he said, flashing that grin. “I’m Joe.”

“Y/N,” I replied, returning the smile. “Nice to meet you.”

He looked down at the schedule in my hand and tilted his head. “You’ve got history next?”

I blinked. “How did you know?”

He pointed to the number scribbled at the top of the page. “That’s Mr. Fisher’s class. I’ve got it too. Come on, I’ll show you the way. He’s a stickler for time.”

And just like that, I found myself walking beside him through the corridors. He chatted easily, effortlessly, telling me which lunch line was faster, which lockers were cursed apparently, and how the vending machine by the gym was rigged to give out two drinks if you hit it just right.

I laughed more in that ten-minute walk than I had in the entire week leading up to it.

That was the beginning.

From that moment on, Joe was a constant in my life. Study sessions that turned into movie nights. Shared secrets whispered in the back of the library. Late-night drives with the windows down, music blaring. And somewhere between all of that between the borrowed hoodies and his fingers brushing mine I fell for him.

Hard.

We went to the end of year formal together. We survived university. We chased dreams, faced rejections, celebrated wins. Through it all, he stayed by my side unwavering, infuriatingly optimistic, and hopelessly in love with me.

And I with him.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“You ready, love?” my dad asks gently, peeking his head in.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I think I am.”

The ceremony is set in a garden just outside the city wildflowers swaying in the breeze, fairy lights strung between trees, and rows of wooden chairs filled with family and friends. The music starts, soft and familiar. My heart pounds louder than the piano.

As I take my first step down the aisle, arm looped through my dad’s, I spot him.

Joe.

Waiting at the altar, eyes locked on mine like I’m the only person in the world. His hair’s a little tidier than usual (though a few rogue strands defy the gel), and he’s in a perfectly tailored navy suit. But it’s his expression that gets me a look so full of love it nearly knocks the air out of my lungs.

He mouths something as I draw closer.

“You’re stunning.”

I don’t need to hear it aloud. I see it in the way his eyes crinkle, in the slight shake of his hands. He’s nervous too.

When I reach him, he takes my hands gently, grounding me.

“You okay?” he whispers.

I nod, smiling. “I was just thinking about the day we met.”

He chuckles under his breath. “When I slammed into you like a bloody idiot and scattered your books everywhere?”

“That’s the one,” I grin. “Did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he winks. “Worked, didn’t it?”

The officiant clears his throat gently, and we both laugh, turning back to face him. But my heart is still dancing, still back in that hallway, reliving that moment where everything changed.

The ceremony is a blur in the best way. Vows are exchanged. Promises spoken between trembling lips and teary eyes. Rings slide onto fingers, soft gasps echoing from the crowd.

Then, finally:

“You may kiss the bride.”

Joe pulls me close, one hand at my waist, the other cradling my cheek. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s sweet and deep and full of everything we are. The cheers erupt around us, but all I hear is the beating of his heart.

Later, at the reception, we sneak away for a moment, barefoot on the damp grass under a starlit sky. The music drifts from the tent, distant and soft.

Joe pulls me into his arms, swaying slowly, even though there’s no one to watch us now.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I still remember exactly what you were wearing that day. First day of school. Blue jeans, grey jumper, hair in a plait.”

I raise a brow. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, brushing a loose strand behind my ear. “You looked like you were about to bolt, and I thought, God, she’s beautiful. Then I knocked you over like a bloody idiot.”

I laugh, resting my head on his chest. “It worked out alright in the end.”

“It really did.”

We stand there for a while, just the two of us, wrapped in the kind of silence that only comes from knowing someone through and through. The kind of silence that says, We made it.

“Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we hadn’t bumped into each other that day?” I ask quietly.

“Not for a second,” he replies. “Because I think we’d have found each other anyway. Maybe not that day but eventually. It was always going to be you.”

I look up at him, tears prickling again. “Always?”

He kisses my forehead. “Always, love.”

And in that moment, beneath the stars and the quiet hum of distant music, I know he’s right.

From the very first moment, it was always him.

[witchezandwonderz]

Words Unspoken

Pairing: Finan x Reader

Word count: 1,380

Summary: You are offended when you overhear Finan's views on marriage.

The crackle of the campfire filled the quiet night, sparks rising like fleeting stars against the dark sky. Laughter echoed through the camp as you happily tended to your blade. It had been a long day, and you didn’t particularly feel like socialising, so you tucked yourself away behind a bush for some solitude. Despite your attempt at isolation, you couldn’t help but hear the men—men you had come to know well—as they sat closer to the roaring fire, their voices carrying easily to where you hid.

You found yourself laughing along with their ridiculous comments, more amused by their laughter than by the jokes themselves. Your smile faltered, however, when the topic of marriage arose. Sihtric was the one to broach the subject.

“We’re married. Isn’t it time you found yourself a worthy woman?” Sihtric’s voice carried easily over the fire. At first, you found the comment sweet, as you weren’t sure who he was addressing—perhaps Osferth. That was until a familiar, deep laugh bellowed through the camp.

Finan’s chuckle rolled out, warm and careless. “Marriage?” he repeated, mock incredulous. “Aye, I’m better off fighting Danes than trying to keep a woman happy. At least the Danes only want to kill me outright.” Sihtric barked a laugh in response, and Uhtred let out a strange, high-pitched shriek of laughter. You shook your head. Men.

“What could I offer a woman anyway? Nothing but trouble and a life on the run. No—anyone mad enough to want me would have to be daft or desperate.” His voice was loud, almost as if he intended to announce this to the entire camp. Judging by the slur of his words, he was probably too drunk to care.

Your grip tightened on the hilt of your knife, the blade stilling mid-polish. You didn’t need to glance up to picture the grin Finan would be wearing—boyish, sharp-edged, and arrogant. It was the same grin that had drawn you in since the day you met him, infuriatingly endearing as much as it was frustrating.

“Stupid girl,” you muttered to yourself. “Stupid, desperate girl.”

You and Finan had grown close—extremely close. You’d been meeting in secret since the day you met. At first, it was once a week, then a few evenings a week, and now, every single night. You’d shared your happiness, your fears, your weaknesses. Hell, you’d let him touch you in ways no man ever had. Stupidly, you’d allowed yourself to believe that when this battle was over, you might marry. Hearing Finan laugh at such a notion now showed you how naive you’d been.

Rolling your eyes, you decided you couldn’t stay hidden behind the bush forever. Rising to your feet, you stepped out, determined to focus only on your path forward. Much to your dismay, as you tried to pass the group unnoticed, Sihtric had other ideas.

“Y/N, where have you been? We’re discussing serious topics here!” Sihtric slurred, prompting Finan, Uhtred, and Osferth to burst into laughter. You halted, turning to face them, careful to ignore Finan, whose eyes were already burning into your face. You considered walking away. You considered lying. But honesty was your curse.

“I know. I heard.” You looked directly at Finan. “I especially enjoyed the part where you said ‘daft and desperate.’ Hilarious.” Your tone was cold, belying your sarcastic words.

Finan’s smile dropped instantly as he rose to his feet. “Y/N, I—”

“Not here,” you cut him off.

No one knew how close the two of you had become. You’d thought nothing of keeping it secret—until now, when the reason became painfully clear. To him, you were just a way to pass a cold, lonely night.

He followed closely behind as you stomped into the trees. When you felt far enough from the group, you stopped and turned to face him. To your surprise, he was smiling.

“What’s funny now, Finan?” you snapped. He stepped forward, attempting to wrap his arms around you, but you pulled away before he could touch you.

“Was it funny to you, laughing about how stupid someone would have to be to care about you?”

He frowned, his movements unsteady but deliberate. “I was joking,” he said, his tone sharp. “That’s what I do—joke, laugh, keep things light.”

“Ah yes, so funny, Finan. Always so funny,” you retorted, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Finan rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to say? That I didn’t mean it? That it’s not true?” He gestured vaguely with the flask in his hand, his words slurring. “Because it is true. I’ve got nothing to offer anyone—least of all you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you refused to cry. “Am I that bad? Fine,” you spat, turning to leave.

“Fine, walk away. See if I care,” he called after you.

Ouch.

Hours passed without you realising, as you sat beside the river, fixed in place. You were exhausted from crying, your eyes sore, your head pounding, and your ego wounded. This had never happened to you before. You’d never loved anyone before—and so, you’d never experienced heartbreak.

You pressed your palm against your eyes, willing the tears to stay put. You refused to cry anymore. Tears were for weakness, and weakness got people killed.

Footsteps crunched softly behind you. You froze, instinct sharpening as your hand dropped to the knife at your belt.

“It’s just me.”

The voice, familiar and rough-edged, sent your heart stumbling in your chest. You turned slowly to find Finan standing a few paces behind you, hands raised in a gesture of peace. The moonlight threw his face into shadow, but you didn’t need to see his expression to recognise his concern.

“I can’t do this again, Finan,” you admitted. Finan didn’t respond immediately, but you felt his presence as he dropped heavily to the ground beside you, letting out a drunken grunt.

“Look, Finan, I’m sorry if I misunderstood this... situation.” The words tumbled from your mouth unfiltered. “I thought we were becoming close, and I thought it meant something to you, as it does to me. But clearly, it doesn’t. So please, just let me wallow in my embarrassment.”

“You think you don’t mean something to me?” His voice broke on the last word, the anger in his tone replaced by a desperate vulnerability you hadn’t expected. “Christ, woman, I said those things because I’m terrified you mean too much.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, robbing you of breath.

“I didn’t think someone like you—someone so good—could ever look at me and see anything worth wanting,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “So I laughed it off, because if I didn’t, I’d have to admit I’m bloody terrified of losing you.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, the pain in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Why the hell would you think that?” you asked finally.

Finan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now anyway, love. I’ve given you no choice but to leave me.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m not trying to leave you, Finan. But I can’t keep wondering where I stand with you.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands flexing at his sides before he reached out to cup your face, his touch tentative, as if he thought you might push him away.

“You stand right here,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “Always here. With me.”

His lips brushed against yours—a tentative, desperate kiss carrying all the words neither of you had dared to say until now. When you kissed him back, it was as much an apology as it was a promise.

“Can I touch your arse now?” he joked, though only slightly. You slapped him lightly on the shoulder, laughing softly before nodding.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, gazing into your eyes like a lost puppy.

“Do you like me?” you teased. He shook his head. “I think it’s quite obvious I’m in love with you, m’lady.”

You smiled, then added, “Will you be loyal to me?” He nodded. “And will you protect me?” Another nod.

“Then it’s safe to say you deserve me,” you said, kissing him gently before pulling him into a warm embrace.

“Oh, and by the way—I love you too.”

-------

A/N: Sorry this was a bit of a shorter one! If you enjoyed please like, reblog and comment :) x

Requests are open.

[fingertipsonglass]

You step out into a night that feels both endless and intimate—a world of snow-slicked sidewalks and glistening neon reflections. Every snowflake that falls seems to echo a secret, a memory, and you can’t shake the feeling that, even in the crowded anonymity of the city, you are never truly alone.

High above, in the quiet solitude of a rooftop shadowed by towering spires, Jason watches. His figure is a dark silhouette against the flickering lights below, his eyes tracing your every step with a mix of fierce protectiveness and a torment he struggles to understand. He’s built walls around his heart long ago, swearing that vulnerability was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Yet here 

you are—a gentle, unassuming presence that has crept into every recess of his thoughts. Every time he sees you, a dangerous cocktail of tenderness and despair stirs within him.

He fights the contradiction daily. He tells himself that what he feels isn’t love—it’s an obsession, a relentless need to keep you safe at any cost. The absence of your presence gnaws at him like a relentless ache, a withdrawal so potent that even the mere thought of you becomes an intoxicating fixation. In the cold silence of his patrols, his mind spins scenarios of what might happen if you were ever lost, even for a moment. And so he follows you, silently, obsessively—a ghost in the margins of your life.

Later that night, as the snow eases into a soft, light, afterthought, you return to your small apartment. The warm glow from within promises refuge, yet you feel an unexplainable weight—a sense of being both cradled and scrutinized. As you unlock the door, you catch sight of him, standing in the muted light of your living room. His eyes, usually hardened by the endless battles fought in Gotham’s underbelly, now shimmer with conflicted emotion. In his quiet, measured presence, you sense both solace and an underlying peril.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, your voice carrying both warmth and concern as you step closer. There is an unspoken question in your eyes—an inquiry into his silence, into the turmoil that seems to lurk beneath his guarded exterior.

Jason’s response is not in words but in the way he reaches out. His arms envelop you with a tenderness that belies the storm raging within him. For a fleeting moment, the world narrows to just the two of you—a fragile bubble where the chaos of Gotham and the weight of his inner battles fall away. In your embrace, he finds a semblance of calm, a pause in the relentless rhythm of his obsessions.

But as you settle into the quiet intimacy of your shared space, a storm of thoughts surges beneath his calm facade. In the quiet aftermath of your closeness, he allows himself a confession, spoken in a low, uncertain tone. “When I’m away… when I can’t see you, it’s like a part of me is missing. I try not to think about it—I tell myself it’s just my duty, just a need to protect you. But every minute without you feels like I’m tearing apart.”

You listen, feeling the raw honesty in his voice, the pain of a man who has waged countless battles against both external foes and the tumult within himself. His words are a mosaic of contradictions: a fierce desire to keep you safe, tangled with the terror of losing control, of letting someone in completely. His love, he insists, is not love at all—it is an obsession, a dependency that he both craves and despises. And yet, every time your eyes meet or your laughter fills the space, the fierce torment inside him softens, if only for a moment.

There is a heaviness in the air, a quiet acknowledgment of the dangerous line he walks. You’ve come to know his ways—his relentless vigilance, the subtle tracking of your routine, the way his thoughts spiral in your absence. It’s a love that shields you from harm but also threatens to consume him entirely. And in those moments, when his voice falters and his gaze hardens with unspoken fears, you realize that his devotion is both his strength and his curse.

Outside, the city continues its restless hum—a backdrop of distant sirens and the steady rhythm of rain against window panes. Inside, you hold him close, both of you locked in a silent understanding of the perilous intimacy you share. It is a love that exists in shades of gray—a delicate balance between the need to protect and the desire to possess, between tenderness and the risk of overwhelming darkness.

In that quiet space, as dawn edges its way into the night, you both acknowledge the fragile truth: that while his obsession might one day shatter the careful equilibrium he’s fought to maintain, it is also the only force that keeps him tethered to something real. You are his sanctuary and his undoing—a luminous beacon in the midst of perpetual shadow.

And so, as the first light of day casts soft hues over the rain-washed city, you lie together, hearts beating in a fragile duet of hope and despair. The world outside remains uncertain, dangerous even, but here, in the muted glow of a battered apartment, you find a strange, haunting beauty in the vulnerability you share—a beauty that, for now, is enough to defy the darkness.

[episodes-ff]

Forevermore

Armando

Taking another swig, I clenched my jaw as the burning Don Julio glided effortlessly down my throat. Staring at the mess around me, I shuffled my feet groggily to go answer the ping of the annoying doorbell. Opening the door for Mike and Marcus, I turned back toward my liquor cabinet ignoring their concerned words as I popped the cap. “Armando! I know you fucking hear me.” Mike spat as I eyed him carelessly. “Why are you here?” “Dee sent us here to make sure you were ok since you weren’t picking up her or Papi’s calls. She was ready to file a missing persons report.” “Oh now she gives a fuck?” I gritted cursing her in Spanish as I trekked to my couch to have a seat. “Look, man, imma give you some privacy and space, but please check in so they know you’re safe.” “Why the fuck should I? I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself.” “I’m just tryna help, don’t be like that.” “I don’t need your fucking help.” “Whatever, we tried, Mike. Just leave his stinking ass alone. You need a damn shower. Fonky ass.” Marcus ranted as Mike sighed signaling for them to exit while I swallowed the brown liquor and silently cried.

**THE DAY BEFORE**

5:35 PM

Just finishing up my paperwork from today’s case, I once again pulled the ring box from my pocket and admired its beauty and color as it related to my woman. Diamonté is just that for me. A woman. Not preoccupied with the trivial bullshit or drama that comes with life. She makes me want to grow for her, be better for her and our son and any future kids. She’s my happiness. I feel whole with her and I hope she’ll complete me further and take this ring. Smiling, I wiped a stray tear before interruptions of a throat clearing woke me from my daze. “Nice ring. You got something you wanna ask me?” Mike smiled as I chuckled at his joke. “I’m gonna ask her to be my wife tonight.” I confirmed causing his immediate smile.

Gesturing for a genuine hug, I got up and met his arms as he laughed and patted my back. Taking a step back to ogle me, he rubbed my shoulder in appreciation as he spoke. “I know we aren’t the closest and we might be new to this father and son relationship, but from the the bottom of my heart I’m really proud of you, Armando. Forreal, man.” Feeling the sting of tears in both our eyes, we shared another warming embrace before he released me to retreat home.

Walking inside her house, I kicked my shoes and walked upstairs to greet mi familia as they playfully danced and laughed. “No, mommy, like this!” Papi chuckled showing her some dance on TikTok that they called tripping out. Watching her struggle to get it, I chuckled making my presence known as AJ ran to me. “Daddy, come come! You have to try this dance!” Setting my bags down, I watched in amusement as he showed me the mysterious dance he so excitedly wanted me to learn. Sticking my arms high as he instructed, I thrusted my hips awkwardly to the beat as she covered her mouth in laughter. “Sí? Like this?” I asked biting my lip and feeling the rhythm. “Maybe next time, papa.” He chuckled moving me away before I picked him up tickling his sides.

9:51 PM

Stepping out of the steaming shower, I wiped off the fogged mirror and took a deep breath as my nervousness increased. Tonight’s the night, Armando, you got this. I coached as I rolled on my deodorant and threw in a few hits of her favorite cologne. Cleaning up my facial hair, I gelled my hair back and put on my chain before heading to the closet to get dressed. Buttoning up my shirt, I fit my suit on before securing the ring to my jacket pocket. Grabbing the car keys, I got in my car and rode back to her house to pick her up. Wish me luck…

Sitting across from her at dinner, I kissed her hand as I took in how delicious she looked tonight. “You look so beautiful, bebita.” I simpered leaning in to steal a kiss from her as she blushed. “Thank you, baby. And thank you so much for this. I really needed it.” “I know, baby, has everything been ok?” “Yes, really wonderful actually.” Smiling, I kissed her once more before we placed our orders for tonight. Sharing in laughter and conversation over our meal, I got more and more nervous as time progressed to the big moment. “Are you ready for dessert, mi corazón?” “Mmmhm, I want a big slice of you.” She purred leaning in to nibble on my neck perfectly basking in our private quarters. “Not just yet, my love. But trust me, I’m more than yours.” I groaned against her lips.

Watching the waitress smile as she set the dessert on the table, I bit my lip as I watched her turn to face the plate as it read ‘Will You Marry Me?’. Looking up in confusion, she covered her mouth in shock as I got up from my seat to kneel in front of her at the table. “Diamonté, you’ve made my world so peaceful and special. Being with you is one of the biggest blessings to my life. I don’t know what I would do without you and Papi and I never want to know a lifetime without you two. I love you more than I can even say but this is the best way I can say it. Will you marry me, baby?” I asked taking hold of her shaking hand as I pulled out the ring. “Oh my god.” She cried as I caressed her cheek. “What do you say?” I waited nervously for her answer. “I-I…” Snatching her hand away, she ran away crying as I slowly stood in disbelief.

11:08 PM

Furrowing my brows, I fought my anger and hurt as I squeezed the box in my hand and contemplated chasing after her. Feeling in my gut that it would be best to do the opposite, I flagged the waitress and paid for our meal before trekking to my car and sitting in silence. Watching her come out from the restaurant in tears, I felt my heart start to soften before remembering prior events and throwing back on my veil of anger. Getting in the car, I pulled off in silence on the way back to her place. “Arma-“ “Don’t.” I spat coldly swerving through traffic to get her home and far as I can away from her. Crying softly to herself, I gripped the wheel as I focused further on the road.

Pulling into her driveway, I reclined into the seat staring out the window as she sniffled. “Will you please just le-“ “Did you even fucking love me, Diamonté? Huh?! Were you truly in love me at all? Or were you just looking for a father to your kid?” I ranted coldly as my blood boiled recalling everything I’ve ever done for her. Gasping, she smacked her full force across my face. Shaking with rage, I watched her grabbed her purse and step out. “I always fucking loved you, Armando, HOW DARE YOU!?! You never even gave me a chance to explain and now paternity is being called into question?! Are you fucking serious right now?! My answer was yes, but looking back maybe it’s right that I didn’t say anything. Go to hell!” She seethed breaking my spirit and ego as she slammed the door causing the window to shatter. Skidding off without a word, I wiped my teary eyes as I felt the gravity of my actions collapsing on me. “FUCK!!!!”

Diamonté

Running into the house, I kicked my shoes off my aching feet as I wept and ran upstairs. Bolting into the bathroom, I emptied the rest of tonight’s horrific dinner into the toilet bowl and continued crying my makeup off. “So much for a fucking surprise!” I cried in agony as I silently thanked God that Mike was watching AJ so he wouldn’t see me this way. Tonight was supposed to be so wonderful and not just for the goddamn proposal. For once I was in a beautiful place in my life with my intelligent little boy, the man I loved, and the news that I was once again carrying his bundle of joy. Now I feel anything but as I continue to throw up and cry wishing I was on the deepest corner of Earth away from him. I had it all planned on how I thought it would go. I even told Mike so that he and his wife Christine could watch Papi for the rest of the week while we celebrated our triumphs. So fucking much for a plan.

Finally gaining the strength to get up from the toilet, I wiped my mouth and brushed my teeth before ridding myself of my dress and makeup. Warming a bubble bath, I set up my phone on the speaker and slowly descended as the beautiful vocals of Jhené Aiko attempted to serenade me out of heart break. Bathing myself as I could do nothing but cry, I released the bath water and put on some fresh chill clothes before leaving to go collect my baby from Mike’s. I needed my child at this moment.

Pulling into his driveway, I knocked and waited patiently. Watching him open the door in confusion he hugged me before addressing me. “Heyyy what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be celebrating.” “Is AJ asleep? I came to pick him up.” I said weakly. “U-Uhhh yea I’ll go get him.” “Thank you.” I mumbled trying not to cry. Standing at the door as I didn’t wanna intrude, I watched Mike carry out my sleeping angel in his superhero pajamas. Taking hold of him, he stirred a little before looking up. “Mommy?” “It’s me, baby boy. I’m right here, go back to sleep.” I smiled rocking him in my arms as I turned to leave. “Hey, Dee, wait up.” “Yes?” “Look, I don’t know what all is going on with you and Armando, but just trust God and give it some time. Try calling him tomorrow ok?” Nodding as fresh tears cascaded yet again, he gently hugged me before kissing AJ’s head and helping us situate in the car. Paying him appreciative words, I waved goodbye as I pulled off and headed back home. So much for a plan.

Tags (Based on interactions, if you’d like to be added or removed let me know): @violetmuses @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @kaylaahisthebestest- @madxlov3 @armandosbabymama @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @simpledopeme @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo

[dolceterzo]

il museo del sesso

Fandom: Ghost (The Band)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III x GN!Reader

Genre: Romance - Fluff - Humour

Word Count: 1035

Summary: Reader has had a long day, and Terzo has Secondo's latest newsletter from his travels.

A/N: This is my first ever Ghost fic to see the light of day, and the first fic I've published in over a year. I'm scared, but I figured I'd unleash it into the wilderness! Some Italian terms of endearment are in the feminine, but the actual reader description is gender-neutral. Yes, bad Italian translations are featured - my ancestors are cursing me as I type. Enjoy!

----

It had been a long day. Sister Imperator had run you ragged preparing for Terzo’s next assignment, though he would no longer perform the duties bestowed upon him as the anti-pope, being retired meant having other expectations placed upon him instead. You were to accompany him as an international dignitary of sorts, meeting with other congregations within the Ministry’s broader network, building an empire required going beyond Italy, Sweden or Los Angeles… And, after all, Terzo was a popular Papa, no matter how the dismissal from the higher clergy may have looked. Just as Secondo was out there performing ambassadorial duties when he wasn’t in his vineyards, so too would Terzo begin a new chapter. 

But that was later. Now? Now you just needed to lie down.

-

Terzo was already on the bed when you entered your shared living quarters, and he was reading the latest instalment of Secondo’s monthly newsletter - an unusually personal and rather entertaining mailer only the Emeritus brothers were privy to.

To Terzo's great joy, it included a gossip column, specifically for his benefit he was sure, as well as an arts and culture spot. For Primo, there was a horticultural section full of plants and landscapes from wherever Secondo had been, and for Copia, there was a section on animals and literature.

The sound of your arrival has Terzo looking up with a pleased smile, his eyes are bright as he pats the space beside him, his raven hair falling loosely around his forehead. He puts Secondo’s digitally crafted newsletter down, letting the tablet rest on his thighs for a moment.

You waste no time taking him up on the offer, he looked utterly dashing in his glasses, his shirt unbuttoned enough to enjoy a peek of his chest. You loved Terzo in many ways, but seeing him relaxed and enjoying something away from clergy matters was high on your list.

Scooting next to him, you’re mindful of the device. Positioning your head on his torso, your arms locked around his midsection, the instant sensation of his warmth and the weight of his hand on your back has you exhaling with relief.

“Ciao, piccola ucella.” He greets softly, fingers grazing the back of your neck, slowly caressing as he begins to thread his fingers in your hair.

“Ciao, amore.” You hum, eyes closing for a moment, your muscles relaxing with each passing moment. 

“Busy day, hm?” He asks with a smile, knowing full well that you would have been giving Imperator a run for her money.

“Si, very busy.” You answer half-heartedly, already well on your way to dozing on him.

You feel the soft rumble of his laughter against your ear, “It seems you’ve already decided on how to remedy this exhaustion, no?” Giving you a gentle squeeze. “Oh absolutely, you’re my favourite cuscino.” You purr, grip tightening as you shiver, trying to draw extra warmth from his body.

He wordlessly puts the tablet on the bedside table and tugs at the blanket draped over the headboard, bringing it down over both of you, making sure you are suitably covered.

“You know, I find it very sweet when you use some of your Italian, tesoro.” He praises, his thumb brushing over the shell of your ear. 

His gaze never leaves you, concern and adoration blending into one, though the conversation had been playful, he could see that you were not only physically fried but mentally too.

“Sorry, honey, I’ve interrupted your Secondo monthly.” You mumble, sighing, you wanted to talk to Terzo and enjoy doing something with him, but now your work mode had been switched off everything else was catching up to you.

“Bah, if I cannot cuddle with mia amata, and make sure they are well, then what good is this love we share, hm? It is okay to not always be, switched on, alright? You tell me this quite often, do you not?”

You really cannot argue with him, especially when he speaks to you in that hushed way that few people, if any, ever get to experience.

“I do.” You concede, lifting your head to look at him, your face full of gratitude, your hand cups his cheek, fingertips tracing those lines that make him so handsome to you, watching with a sweet ache in your chest as he closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation.

When he meets your gaze again his lips upturn into a mischievous smile, “Shall I read to you this last section that mio fratello wrote?”

Your expression matches his in excitement, nodding as you immediately plant your head back on his chest, ready to listen to every word.

“Molto bene, prezioso.” He hums, keeping one arm wrapped around you, the other scooping up the tablet and flicking back to the page he had been reading. He clears his throat for dramatic effect, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Terzo begins, “The weather in Amsterdam was a drizzle, overcast, not too terrible by any means, if a bit glum for such an intriguing visit. Naturalmente, I was invited to il museo del sesso…”

“The sex museum?” You snort, laughter shaking softly through you, positive you understood him correctly.

“Si, si…” Terzo says with a wry smile, continuing. “I was invited to il museo del sesso, and wouldn’t you know it? In the modern and contemporary gallery, they had painted the most squisito portrait of me. Specifically, my “Anno Zero” momento, quite the homage to the Emeritus physique…certainly, they picked the right brother to fully display our prowess, eh, cari fratelli? Needless to say, it was an enjoyable visit.”

Now you’re giggling uncontrollably, whether it was because there was a naked painting of Secondo in Amsterdam’s sex museum, or whether it was because Secondo seemed exceptionally pleased with this fact, you weren’t sure.

“That has to be one of the best instalments yet.” You muse, giggles still bubbling in your tummy.

Terzo relishes the laughter he pulls from you, thankful for his brother’s colourful display of vanity for helping you get rid of some of the day's tension. He laughs too, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, squeezing you gently. 

“Yes, my love, I’d say it was too.”

Fin.

-

Italian Glossary:

Ciao - Hello

Piccola Ucella - Little Bird

Amore - Love

Si - Yes

Cuscino - Cushion/Pillow

Tesoro - Treasure/Honey/Darling

Mia Amata - My Love

Mio Fratello - My Brother

Molto Bene - Very Good/Very Well

Prezioso - Precious

Naturalmente - Naturally

il museo del sesso - The Sex Museum

Squisito - Exquisite

Anno Zero - Year Zero

Momento - Moment

Cari Fratelli - Dear Brothers

[fanficdelulus]

Additions

Fate (Gojo x Fem! Reader)

————————————————

As time passed, you attempted to rebuild your life. Returning to your sorcerer duties, you were assigned to work closely with Shoko for the next few months. It was a healing process, both physically and emotionally.

Every day, a small glimmer of a smile graced your lips as you witnessed Satoru and Megumi more frequently. Being able to contribute at the school provided a sense of normalcy. It was a gradual journey of recovery, slowly mending the wounds left by the past.

Satoru grinned as he held his phone to his ear. "No coming home until you've recovered the curse object, okay?" he told Megumi, his voice full of amusement. Megumi's response was less than pleased as he quickly hung up.

You watched this exchange and couldn't help but tease. "You sent him to look for a curse object, and it didn't end up being there, so now he's looking for what appears to be a needle in a haystack, am I correct, my love?" you questioned, a playful glint in your eyes as he returned to cuddle with you on the couch.

With a soft chuckle, Satoru gently pulled you into his embrace. "Correct, my darling," he replied, his arms encircling you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before continuing, "But it's all part of the job. Megumi needs to learn the ropes, and sometimes that means a bit of a wild goose chase." He grinned, his eyes filled with love and mischief. "Besides, it gives us some alone time."

You playfully rolled your eyes and then swiftly stole a kiss from his lips, a sweet, affectionate peck that spoke volumes of your feelings for him. You relaxed further into his warm embrace. "He's a bright kid; he'll be fine," you whispered, your voice carrying an undercurrent of love and trust.

As you rested your head against his chest, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The comforting sound, like a lullaby, eased your worries and lulled you toward peaceful sleep. In Satoru's arms, you felt safe and loved, a sense of tranquility washing over you.

Your husband's voice gently pulled you from your slumber, and as you opened your eyes, his beaming smile met you. He was clearly excited to share something. He began explaining why he had woken up so suddenly, and his enthusiasm was unmistakable.

"The higher-ups are being hard asses because a special-grade curse object is missing, and they want me to go look. But, I managed to get us enough time to see the sights while we're there," he happily informed you. Even in the midst of his busy schedule and responsibilities, his affection for you shone through brightly.

You groggily smiled at him, appreciating the love and thoughtfulness that remained unwavering. In this moment, you felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have a husband who cherished and cared for you so deeply.

And that's how you found yourselves at Sugisawa High School.

With a playful grin, Gojo couldn't help but poke fun at Megumi. "Well, well, Megumi, it looks like someone had a rough day, huh?" he quipped as he transported the two of you to the school. His tone was teasing and filled with friendly banter.

The moment you both landed at Sugisawa High School, your concern was solely for Megumi. You rushed to his side, the sight of the wound on his head making your stomach churn as blood trickled down.

You used your healing technique, and in no time, his injuries were mended. While Gojo and Megumi conversed, you couldn't help but notice the presence of the pink-haired boy.

"Uhhh, Gumi, who's this? And did you find—" you began to ask, but the pink-haired boy calmly interrupted.

"I ate it," he said.

The mystery of the missing special grade object and the peculiar pink haired boy had taken an unexpected turn, and you couldn't contain your laughter when your husband confirmed that he had in fact merged with Sukuna.

"So, can you switch?" Satoru inquired with genuine curiosity, his eyes keenly observing the boy through his blindfold. It was a peculiar situation, and you both were eager to hear the answer.

Clearly perplexed by the question, you gently clarified, "Can you switch between Sukuna? He's the cursed object you ate." You took a seat beside Megumi, trying to provide some reassurance.

The pink-haired boy seemed to grasp the concept. "Oh, yeah," he answered.

Satoru's eyes sparkled as he grinned. "Ten seconds. Take control back after ten seconds, got it?"

The kid hesitated, but you were quick to soothe his doubts. "Don't worry about it. He's the strongest there is," you joyfully reassured, blowing a kiss towards your husband. “That's right, darling," he said with confidence as he playfully threw the treats bag toward Megumi, who skillfully caught it.

"Those treats are for your mom and me on the bullet train home," Satoru instructed Megumi just before Sukuna's chilling presence materialized right behind him.

Giggling at the spirited fight, you watched as Satrou skillfully dodged each of Sukuna's attempts. While you indulged in a mochi, you offered one to Megumi, who was fully absorbed in the spectacle.

A soft smile graced your lips as the pink-haired kid regained control over Sukuna. "What a surprise, I guess you really can control it," your husband happily noted as he approached him, effortlessly knocking him out with just two fingers. He then gently slung him over his shoulder.

With a warm and supportive smile, you asked, "So what's the plan, babe?" You stood up, gracefully dusting off your dress, and walked over to your husband's side. With a gentle touch, you healed any injuries the kid had sustained.

As the silence hung in the air, it was Megumi who broke it, his voice tinged with concern. "What's going to happen to him?" he asked, his curiosity mixed with empathy.

"Well, if he wakes up and isn't possessed, he might have a chance at becoming a vessel," Satoru explained, turning toward Megumi. Then, he posed a question, "Question for you, though. What should I do with him?"

You pulled your hair into a loose bun, with a few stray strands framing your face perfectly. You sent a supportive smile to Megumi, not only encouraging him to do the right thing but to follow his heart in this difficult decision.

Finally, he spoke, his voice reflecting his inner struggle, and you remained by his side, a symbol of unwavering support. "Even if he ends up becoming a vessel... Under Jujutsu regulations, he should be executed. But, I don’t want him to die."

"Hmm, is that a personal request?" Satoru's voice held a playful note as a smile began to pull at his lips.

Megumi's eyes were filled with earnest emotion as he responded, "Yes, I’m asking you to do something about it."

A tender warmth enveloped Satoru's features, as he softly cupped his face. "My precious student and son asking for assistance?" he mused, his smile growing. "Of course, I'll do it!" He ruffled Megumi's dark locks, his heart filled with love and pride.

In that poignant moment, your heart swelled with overwhelming pride at your son's actions. His unwavering determination to save a friend spoke to the core of your beliefs about his character and his potential.

Tears of admiration welled up in your eyes, and you couldn't help but be deeply moved by Megumi's display of empathy and kindness. You knew, in the depths of your being, that your son was not just destined for greatness as a sorcerer, but also for greatness as a compassionate and caring human being.

————————————————-

Walking hand in hand towards the crematorium, your steps were filled with a sense of both hope and apprehension. "He told us to meet him here?" you questioned, the building before you seeming like a place of important decisions.

Satoru's response carried a bit of optimism. "Yeah, so, do you think he's going to say yes? I'll bet you 700,000¥ he does.."

His playful bet lightened the mood, and you couldn't help but smile. "You're no better than Mei-Mei," you playfully chided, while inside, you couldn't deny the concern that Megumi's request held. As you safely crossed the street together, it was clear that the outcome of this meeting would weigh heavily on all of you.

Sitting on a bench outside the crematorium, Yuji Itadori, the boy whose fate had now become intertwined with yours and your husband's, sat between you two. The looming smoke clouds added to the heavy atmosphere, and you knew this wasn't just about a funeral, but the beginning of something much bigger.

Satoru couldn't contain his curiosity and asked the question that was on his mind, "Who died?" With a hint of sorrow in his eyes, Yuji replied, "My grandpa, but he was more like my dad."

The weight of those words settled upon you like a heavy shroud. You knew all too well the depth of that loss, having experienced it yourself when your parents had been taken from you. In that shared moment of sorrow, you couldn't help but empathize with Yuji's pain.

Maternally, your fingers traced soothing patterns on Yuji's back, knowing that words often weren't enough to ease the pain. Your husband, ever sensitive to the emotions of those around him, gently continued the conversation.

"I'm sorry we're bothering you at a time like this," he began, crossing his long legs as he sat beside him. "So, have you made your decision?" Satoru inquired, his voice filled with empathy, understanding the depth of Yuji's sorrow.

Yuji paused, his eyes reflecting a mix of uncertainty and curiosity as he considered the question. "Are there a lot of deaths with curses like this?" he softly inquired.

Satoru leaned forward, his voice steady as he began to explain, "Well, this is a truly unusual circumstance, but if you're talking about potential damage, then yes. To be honest, you're lucky if you can die a normal death after running into a curse. Even if they find you torn up limb from limb, it still might be considered alright."

He let his words linger, allowing Yuji a moment to absorb the weight of what he was saying. "If you're going to start investigating Sukuna's remains, you're going to bear witness to the horrors of the Jujutsu world. Grotesque scenes will become an increasing occurrence... I also can't promise you that you won't become a victim one day," Satoru finished, underlining the grim reality of their work.

You knew that Satoru's words were a necessary warning, a glimpse into the potential dangers that lay ahead. "But," you added, your voice gentle and reassuring, "Satoru and I will be there to help you along the way." Your words were infused with a sense of maternal warmth, letting Yuji know that he wouldn't be alone in this perilous journey.

As Yuji beamed with gratitude and posed his next question, the gleam of determination in his eyes was unmistakable. It was apparent that he was approaching this with a level of maturity and consideration that belied his age. "If Sukuna is eliminated, will there be fewer people killed by curses?" he inquired, his gaze unwavering.

Satoru responded to his question, confirming that eliminating Sukuna would indeed reduce the number of casualties inflicted by curses. Yuji's next query, though, caught you off guard. He asked if you still had the cursed finger, and before anyone could react, Satoru handed it to him.

“This thing so disgusting now that I really look at it”

You were just about to agree with Yuji, finding the finger quite disgusting, when he suddenly took you all by surprise by devouring it in a single, swift motion. Horror etched across your face as you watched this seemingly irrational act. It was a powerful reminder of the dangerous path that Yuji had chosen, one where he would face the grotesque and the unimaginable horrors of the Jujutsu world, all for the sake of saving others.

A chill ran up your spine, and every fiber in your being alerted you to the danger that sat between you and your husband. But as quickly as it came, it left, replaced by something astonishing.

"Gross, it tastes so bad it's making me laugh," Yuji chuckled, his laughter echoing with a unique blend of bravery and innocence. You joined in, your laughter filled with relief. Your husband's blindfold-covered eyes met yours, and in that exchange, you both recognized the extraordinary spirit this boy possessed. There was something undeniably remarkable about him, a rare combination of courage and purity that warmed your hearts.

As Yuji stood in front of you and your husband, the gravity of his decision weighed on the atmosphere. Satoru shifted closer to you, and the two of you occupied the bench, creating a united front. His arm extended around your shoulders in a comforting gesture.

"Well, Yuji, are you genuinely prepared for the road ahead?" Satoru's voice held a blend of curiosity and encouragement.

In a moment of contemplation, Yuji paused, his hands slipping into his pockets. He peered into the unknown, pondering the path he was about to tread. "Not really," he confessed, his voice carrying the raw honesty of someone who felt the weight of destiny on their shoulders. "I don't understand why it had to be me, but I can't simply stand by and let this curse continue."

His resolve strengthened with each word. "I've made up my mind. I'm going to consume the rest of Sukuna. I'm already certain that this is how I'll meet my end."

A soft, understanding smile graced your lips as you regarded Yuji. The unwavering determination in his eyes made Megumi's insistence on saving him all the more evident. In that moment, you silently pledged to make the most out of Yuji's life, adding him to the ever-growing list of children you vowed to protect and support.

Your husband chuckled, a genuine warmth in his voice. "You're already growing on me, kid," he said with an approving grin. He glanced your way, knowing you shared his sentiment. "And I'm pretty sure I can say the same for my wife," he added, his hand extended to help you to your feet. With his assistance, you rose, offering a reassuring smile to Yuji.

"Alright kiddo, grab your belongings and have everything ready by the end of the day," your husband instructed, his fingers entwined with yours.

"Uh, are we going somewhere?" Yuji questioned, curiosity in his eyes. You were about to answer, but your son Megumi had finally arrived.

"To Tokyo," Megumi replied as he walked up to Yuji, the anticipation of the new journey evident in his tone.

"Wow, Fushiguro, you look so much better," Yuji exclaimed as he noticed Megumi behind him. Megumi nodded, saying, "Yeah, our teacher over there patched me up," gesturing towards you.

A warm smile graced your lips as you walked over to the two boys, extending a hand to Yuji. "I help out when I'm not on missions. You can call me [Surname] if it makes things easier," you warmly offered as you shook his hand, welcoming him into your expanding circle of care.

"Wow, there must be a bunch of students if there's two of you," Yuji marveled, clearly impressed. Your laughter bubbled out in response, and Satoru chimed in, "Actually, there are only three students in our first-year class," offering a bit of clarification.

"Only three?" Yuji exclaimed in genuine surprise, his eyes widening. Satoru couldn't help but tease a bit, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yep, it's like a personal training session," he remarked, adding to the humor.

———————————————-

Yuji's excitement was palpable as he took in the beauty of the prestigious school, the two of you escorting him through the campus. As the three of you passed by the gardens, he suddenly inquired, "Where's Fushiguro?"

"Oh, he's sleeping. If he wants my technique to fully help him, he needs to sleep it off," you explained. You eventually reached an impasse. "Well, I've got to get back to Shoko. I'll see you for lunch, right, baby?" you asked.

"Of course, my darling," Satoru affirmed before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips. Your cheeks flushed red as you turned away and said, "Do your best at your interview, Yuji!" before rushing off towards the medical sector.

“Interview?” Yuji began as he glanced over at Satrou,

“yeah about that..”

————————————————

"Yo, kids!" Satoru's voice boomed, drawing the attention of both Megumi and Yuji. "Hey!" Yuji greeted with a grin as he stood up, his new uniform fitting him nicely.

"You look fresh. I like the hoodie, nice touch," you complimented, nodding approvingly at his attire.

"I didn't add it," Yuji admitted sheepishly, playing with the material."Gojo did that; he's quirky that way," Megumi explained with a small smile as the four of you continued your walk down the vibrant streets of Harajuku.

As the four of you rounded the corner, the sound of a teenage girl loudly talking with a talent agent caught your attention. You couldn't stop laughing, even with Megumi's comment.

"Are we gonna talk to her?" he questioned with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "How embarrassing," Yuji added, looking like a true tourist with his New Year's glasses, a crepe in one hand, and popcorn in the other.

"Look who's talking," Megumi playfully chided, as your laughter continued.

"I like her spirit. I think she'd go pretty far in New York," you commented, still amused by the whole situation. Satoru called her over, waving to draw her attention.

"Hey! Over here!" he exclaimed, effectively drawing her towards your bandage-wearing husband.

After a quick exchange of greetings, Nobara couldn't help but comment, "Wow, you're so beautiful," as she approached you. Your curls and golden hoops shined brightly under the sun. She then turned her attention to Satoru and asked, "How the hell did you end up marrying this bandage-wearing weirdo?"

Your laughter filled the air as you found her feisty and straightforward nature quite refreshing. It was clear that she wouldn't let anything stand in her way. Once your laughter subsided, you pulled her into a warm hug, expressing, "I'm thrilled to have a girl in the group, and a straightforward one at that." With a smile, you released her from the embrace.

"Alright, baby, want to tell the kids where we're going today?" you posed, excitement in your voice as the group eagerly turned their attention to Satoru. "We're going on a tour of... TOKYO!" he exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm. The enthusiasm was contagious, and Yuji and Nobara immediately tackled the two of you with hugs, their excitement bubbling over into joyful squeals.

Their once palpable excitement had dissipated by the time the five of you arrived at an abandoned building in Roppongi. The bright enthusiasm from the prospect of a tour had given way to a sense of foreboding as Satoru explained the grim situation.

"You said we were going on a tour," Nobara and Yuji both whined, a mix of disappointment and anxiety coloring their voices. Satoru's face grew serious as he revealed the presence of curses and the strange disappearances in the area. He instructed the two young Jujutsu sorcerers to enter the building and eliminate any curses they found.

Megumi, on the other hand, stood up to join them, but Gojo swiftly intervened, instructing him to stay behind. The sense of unease deepened, and the reality of their duties as sorcerers hung heavily in the air.

Once the two were out of sight, Satoru plopped right down next to Megumi. He flashed a playful grin as he began, "I can feel you staring." He continued, "Your mom and I have noticed something too. Yuji probably isn't completely sane, considering he used to be a regular high schooler who hadn't had any interactions with curses whatsoever."

Satoru shifted his gaze, his expression growing more thoughtful. "And Nobara, well, despite her experience, the curses she's dealt with in the countryside are nothing compared to the ones here in the city." He leaned back, the weight of their duty and the unpredictability of the curses heavy on his mind.

You turned toward your husband, a sweet smile on your lips. "Could you give me two hair ties, baby?" His eyes softened as he reached into his pocket, retrieving two hair ties. It was a habit he had developed once you two started training together on a daily basis, always prepared to help you.

You took one from him, your fingers gently brushing against his, a silent connection that spoke of your shared journey. With his support, you pulled your hair into low space buns, two stray strands framing your face. It was a small gesture, but it held the depth of your bond and your shared experiences.

As Nobara and Yuji emerged from the building with a small boy in tow, your eyes lit up with pride. You couldn't help but shower them with praise for a job well done. Your warm smiles and heartfelt congratulations showed how proud you were of their achievement.

The joy in Nobara and Yuji's eyes was unmistakable as they basked in your praise. Your words of encouragement and pride had a profound impact on them, and their smiles widened in response. Their success and your support had made this experience even more rewarding, creating a sense of camaraderie and fulfillment among the five of you.

Meanwhile, Satoru took on the responsibility of looking after the child they had rescued, showing his caring and responsible side as well. It was a moment of success and compassion that warmed your heart.

As the day's events began to wind down, and the five of you strolled through the city, Satrou's voice held a note of pride. "Alright, kids, good job today," he praised. "Dinner's on me tonight." His hand intertwined with yours, and you chuckled at Yuji and Nobara's immediate excitement as they asked Megumi about the best places to eat in the city, considering his urban upbringing.

Your husband leaned in, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, "Things are getting exciting, don't you think?" You gazed at the three young sorcerers conversing, witnessing the bonds forming and the adventures awaiting them. Your heart warmed, and you found yourself in agreement with Satrou, embracing the joy and challenges of this new chapter, your son making friends and your family growing closer.

Dinner was a lively affair. The five of you gathered at a cozy izakaya in Tokyo, each of you with your own distinct tastes in food. Yuji and Nobara excitedly ordered a variety of dishes they'd never tried before, while you and Megumi appreciated the familiar flavors of the city you had grown up in. Satoru, as always, had his unique preferences, which never ceased to amuse and entertain everyone.

Amidst shared laughter and stories, you all began to bond. The young sorcerers learned more about their teachers and vice versa. Satoru was an endless source of entertaining anecdotes, and his dynamic personality filled the room with a palpable energy.

As the evening progressed, your heart swelled with a sense of happiness and fulfillment. These moments, where the five of you felt like a true family, were what made the trials of the Jujutsu world worth it.

Your phone rang, and you excused yourself from the table, stepping outside to take the call in private. The voice on the other end was stern and unyielding, sending shivers down your spine.

"[Name], in the next 72 hours, you will be sent on a mission to Mexico. Before you depart, you must become fluent in Spanish," the official stated firmly. The impossible demand seemed to hang in the air like a storm cloud, casting a shadow on the night.

You felt a bead of sweat form on your forehead as your mind raced with the enormity of the task. Fluent in three days? It was an almost insurmountable challenge, and you couldn't help but express your disbelief and frustration.

"Fluent in three days?" you questioned, your voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of frustration. The weight of this demand threatened to crush your spirits, especially given the limited time frame.

"Mrs. Gojo, when you first came to Japan, you were quite adept in learning Japanese before your arrival. We have complete faith you'll be able to do it again," the official responded, their words cold and unforgiving. The urgency in their tone only added to the mounting tension.

As the call ended, you couldn't help but feel the pressure building around you. The demands from the special counsel were relentless, and you couldn't ignore the toll it was taking on your body and mind. The burden of your unique abilities and the constant expectations weighed heavily on your shoulders, and it didn't go unnoticed by Satoru, who observed your struggle with growing concern. The weight of the world rested on your shoulders, and the countdown to your next mission had begun.

While your students and husband tried to hide their disappointment, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the special counsel's constant control over your every movement, dictating your life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Satoru, ever the master of creating memorable moments, suggested karaoke after dinner as a send-off before you'd have to plunge back into the murky waters of your next mission. The idea was met with enthusiasm from the students, particularly Yuji and Nobara, who were eager to showcase their singing skills. The karaoke room became a brief refuge from the constant control of the counsel, where you could be yourself.

As the karaoke room filled with music, laughter, and the joy of the moment, it was a profound experience. Gojo's choice to play your favorite song, "Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears, wasn't lost on anyone. You had an infectious enthusiasm that made the otherwise stern environment of Jujutsu High feel like home.

Megumi, who had spent most of his formative years under your loving care, shared a knowing look with his mentor, Gojo. He knew the significance of that song. You had a knack for playing it during your daily household routines – cooking, cleaning, or even just goofing around. It was a symbol of your free spirit and your ability to find joy in the ordinary.

Megumi nodded his approval, acknowledging your lively spirit with a hint of pride in his eyes. He watched as you took the microphone, and the room filled with applause and encouragement. This was a rare moment of carefree enjoyment, a glimpse of your vibrant personality that the Special Counsel often suppressed.

After your heartfelt performance, you and Nobara took the stage one more time, further amplifying the joy and camaraderie in the room.

As the final song faded away, Yuji, with his kind heart and curious nature, couldn't help but notice the difference in appearance between you and Megumi. His question was genuine, as he asked Megumi if you were his mother. Megumi, deeply moved by the question and the significance of family, recalled your teachings.

With a gentle smile, he turned to Yuji and shared a profound truth, "Yes, she is." He continued, "Family isn't just about blood; it's about love, care, and the bonds we create." This sentiment resonated with everyone in the room, transcending the confines of blood relations. It was a powerful testament to the love, acceptance, and wisdom that had bound you and Megumi as family. Your students admired you not just as a mentor but as a person whose love had forged an unbreakable and unique bond.

————————————————-

In the span of 48 hours, a remarkable transformation occurred as you devoted yourself to mastering the Spanish language. It was an astonishing display of your intelligence and determination. But for Satoru, this incredible feat brought not only amazement but also deep concern.

As he observed your relentless pursuit of fluency, he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had settled in his heart. He was well aware of your extraordinary talents, particularly your remarkable Reverse Cursed Technique. You had the power to mend your body and mind, a gift that appeared almost effortless, but like all things there was toll it took on your body.

You were pushing yourself to the limit, the exhaustion etched in the lines on your face and the weariness that clung to your every movement. While your Reverse Cursed Technique could mend your body when needed, he knew that it couldn't erase the effects of the relentless effort you were putting in. You weren't invulnerable, and this rapid learning process was testing your physical and mental limits.

Deep down, he wanted to see you step away from this life, away from the control of the higher-ups. But the harsh reality was that the shackles ran deep, and no amount of healing could mend the unseen wounds you carried. Your battle was not only with curses but also with the forces that sought to dominate your very existence.

A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed your eyelids growing heavy during the drive to the private airfield. It was a stark reminder of how relentless your efforts had been. As he pulled you gently into his arms, it was impossible not to notice the utter exhaustion etched on your face. The lines of weariness were more pronounced, and the weight of your responsibilities had taken its toll.

Although your abilities were undoubtedly remarkable, but they concealed a deeply troubled history.

You weren't born into the world of sorcerers; rather, you were thrust into it by the cruel hand of fate. Your powers were not a gift but a means of survival, a response to Toji's unanticipated, twisted, and merciless attack on your family. From that tragic night, your life spiraled into a relentless chain of dangers, unforeseen horrors, and the heavy burden of protecting those around you. It was a life marked by countless untold horrors, a journey you never asked for but were forced to endure.

Satoru understood that your story, woven with suffering and resilience, had an indelible influence on his perception of the world. He realized that the cruelty of the world extended beyond the boundaries of being just a Jujutsu sorcerer. Sorcerer or not, the world could be an incredibly harsh place, and your experiences had left a lasting mark on his heart.

Yet, the higher-ups held true control not only over you but over him as well, a realization that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

In his heart, he wished, more fervently than he could express, for your freedom from this life. But the intricacies of your situation, the dark forces pulling the strings from the shadows, made it a challenge unlike any other.

The hum of the engine provided a soothing backdrop as the two of you neared the airfield. Satoru couldn't bear to wake you from your much-needed rest. He cherished these moments when he could hold you close and shield you from the unforgiving world you both navigated.

With a soft, affectionate smile, he whispered, "Darling, it's time to wake up." You let out a gentle groan as you reluctantly opened your eyes. The early morning light filtered into the car, making you squint as you slowly stirred, seeking comfort in the warmth of his embrace before facing another challenging mission.

With your groggy yawns and sleepy eyes, you managed to muster enough energy to step out of the car, and Satoru quickly followed suit. He took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, as he led you towards the staircase that would take you to the private jet.

As you made your way towards the stairs, his grip on your hand was firm but gentle, a silent reassurance that he would always be there for you. The love he felt for you was evident in his eyes, and even though he didn't say it, the lingering embrace before you stepped onto the plane spoke volumes. He would miss you more than he could express, and he couldn't wait for the moment when you'd be back in his arms.

"Be safe, my love," Satoru whispered, his warm breath caressing your ear before passionately capturing your lips. Despite being married for nearly a decade, your cheeks still grew warm at his unparalleled affection. You held onto him for a lingering moment, savoring the love and connection you shared.

"I will, I love you," you softly stated as you hugged him tight, your heart heavy with the weight of your unspoken worries. "I love you more," he replied with a playful grin, but you could see the deep affection in his eyes, a mixture of love and concern.

Then, you hesitantly continued, "Toru... this feels wrong, it’s just like last time." Your voice carried the weight of your concern, and the heavy sigh that followed revealed your unease, exposing the vulnerabilities that had been haunting your heart.

Satoru's touch was gentle as he cupped your face, his eyes locked onto yours, radiating sincerity. "My love, I promise you, everything will be fine," he reassured you, his voice filled with tenderness. "Today, is the only day I'll be away because of my meeting with the higher-ups, but I have Ijichi working with them. You know how dependable he is."

His words were like a soothing balm, easing your anxiety, and you nodded, feeling the weight of your concerns gradually lifting. "I trust you," you whispered, a small, genuine smile forming on your lips. In Satoru's embrace, you found the strength to face any uncertainty, and a sense of security enveloped you.

With a deep breath, you reluctantly released yourself from Satoru's embrace. "I'll be careful," you promised, your eyes still locked onto his, not wanting to part but knowing your duty called.

Satoru nodded, a mixture of pride and worry in his eyes. "I know you will, my love. You're strong and capable. Just come back to me safely."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back. You leaned in for one last lingering kiss, pouring all your love and longing into that moment. Then, you turned and headed off towards your next mission, carrying Satoru's love and encouragement with you, knowing that he was always by your side in spirit.

Touching down in Oaxaca, you eagerly disembarked the plane, relishing the sensation of solid ground beneath your feet. Stretching, you discreetly employed a minuscule amount of your reverse curse technique, restoring your body to its optimal state.

Awaiting you was an older, single-cab pickup truck, its worn exterior hinting at the challenges it had weathered. Armed with the rough coordinates of one of Sukana’s fingers, you set out on a winding journey through the beautifully lush Sierra Juárez forest.

As the dense foliage enveloped the road, a sense of unease crept over you. The mission seemed oddly intricate – the special counsel sending you to confront a cartel attempting to enter the Jujutsu black market with one of Sukana’s fingers. The intricate web of motives and alliances left you pondering the true depths of the occult underworld you navigated.

Exiting the pickup, you found yourself in the very last village on the outskirts, surrounded by the perpetual Sierra Juárez forest. The mountain ranges stretched majestically, adorned with a tapestry of lush trees and flourishing forestry. The air carried the distinct fragrance of nature's symphony, a harmonious blend that spoke of centuries-old stories etched into the landscape.

As you strolled through the village, a tangible quiet descended. Each residence responded to your presence with a subtle retreat – blinds closed, windows sealed shut. It was a community guarding its secrets, the stillness revealing a shared apprehension.

However, amidst this guarded atmosphere, a resilient spirit emerged. In the front yard of an elderly woman's home, a subtle defiance of the prevailing silence was evident. Her warm smile and welcoming demeanor cut through the tension. "Come in, Mija," she beckoned, her words laced with a mixture of hospitality and understanding. "You've come a long way." Crossing her threshold, you sensed that her home held not only shelter but also the untold tales of a village intricately connected to the vast expanse of the Sierra Juárez forest.

Once inside, the older woman wasted no time cutting right to the chase, her eyes piercing through the air of secrecy that surrounded the village. "Why have you sought out our humble village?" she inquired, her gaze a mix of curiosity and caution.

Seated at her kitchen table, you explained the mission assigned by the special counsel – the cartel's sinister designs on the Jujutsu black market involving one of Sukana’s fingers. Her eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and understanding, as if the ancient spirits dwelling in the forest had whispered secrets that resonated with her.

As you detailed the potential consequences of the cartel's actions, a shared sense of purpose began to unfold. The older woman nodded knowingly, her expression shifting from skepticism to a subtle determination. "We may be a small village, but we have guarded our traditions for generations. I will help you, Mija, for the sake of the forest and the legacy it holds." And with those words, a tentative alliance was forged, linking the fate of the village to the enigmatic tapestry of the Sierra Juárez forest.

Although her pure heart couldn’t help but worry for your life.

Mija," she began, her weathered hands gently cradling your left, "do not tread into a world from which you can never escape," she warned, her eyes reflecting both concern and a deep understanding of the shadows that lurked within the mission you had undertaken. She spoke not out of skepticism but as a guardian, trying to impart the weight of the dangers that awaited.

Touched by her genuine care, you couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude toward this stranger who had opened her home and heart. Her cautionary words lingered in the air, a solemn reminder of the perils you were about to face. Yet, you had long resigned yourself to this life, the sacrifices and risks embedded in your duty.

With a tearful smile, you reassured her, "Don't worry, abuelita. I'll be okay. I have my husband and kids to go home to." Confidently, you wrapped your right hand atop hers, allowing the comforting flow of reverse curse energy to ease the pain in her shaking, arthritic hands.

In that moment, a silent exchange occurred – a connection between generations, bridged by a shared understanding of duty, sacrifice, and the profound strength that family provided. As you prepared to face the shadows that awaited in the world beyond, the echo of the Sierra Juárez forest seemed to resonate within the warmth of that kitchen, a sanctuary in the midst of a tangled web of mystique.

Navigating the dense foliage, you stumbled upon an inconspicuous path leading to an unexpected concrete safe house. The verdant surroundings masked its existence like a well-guarded secret. Approaching cautiously, a sense of foreboding intensified, amplified by securely locked windows and doors that seemed to hold secrets within.

The creaking of the entrance echoed through the silent forest as you stepped inside, greeted by a chilling tableau – two lifeless bodies sprawled on the floor, a gruesome aftermath of a recent, violent struggle. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, weaving a tapestry of dread that clung to the walls.

As you treaded carefully through the building, the oppressive stillness heightened your senses. The safe house unveiled its haunting secrets with each step, the floor bearing the weight of unspeakable horrors. It was then that you stumbled upon a dimly lit room, where an innocuous bouquet of flowers stood as a macabre centerpiece.

A shiver ran down your spine as the sinister curse energy around the flowers manifested, casting an otherworldly glow that painted the room in eerie hues. Fear gripped your body, and your heart raced as you absorbed the malevolence that lingered, an unseen force weaving through the air.

The room seemed to pulsate with a malevolent energy, urging you to uncover the mysteries that lurked within the shadows of the Sierra Juárez forest. The thrill of the unknown gripped you, as the line between the natural and supernatural blurred, leaving you standing at the precipice of a chilling revelation.

Cautiously taking the bouquet into your hands, an unexpected surge of energy coursed through you. In that fleeting moment, the flowers became a conduit to visions – a chilling glimpse of the curse you had faced in Minnesota and another, a sinister figure with a head eerily resembling Mount Fuji. The images unfolded like haunting scenes from a dark tapestry, etching themselves into your consciousness.

The weight of realization struck you as the visions played out – the cursed energy, the ruthless brutality, and the theft of Sukuna's finger. Shocked and enraged, you dropped the bouquet as if it burned your very soul. The once-innocent flowers now held a malevolence that transcended the physical, leaving you grappling with the horrors that had unfolded in this seemingly clandestine safe house.

The room echoed with the consequences of a nefarious plan set into motion. The alliance of malevolent forces, each more insidious than the last, had left behind a trail of destruction. As you stood amidst the aftermath, the air seemed to crackle with an impending storm, a convergence of curses and sinister intentions that threatened to unleash chaos upon the Sierra Juárez forest.

Determined to unravel the depth of this ominous conspiracy, you steeled yourself for the challenges that lay ahead. The stolen finger of Sukuna had unleashed a chain of events that would test your strength, skill, and resilience against an enigmatic darkness that now enveloped the very heart of the forest.

After burying the two men, a solemn task that weighed heavy on your heart, you rushed back to the village. With practiced precision, you invoked a protective barrier, weaving your Jujutsu skills to shield the community from the impending malevolence that lurked in the shadows.

Swiftly getting into your truck, you drove away from the village, the engine's roar echoing the urgency in your heart.

As you sped through the winding roads, you fumbled with your phone, desperately trying to call Satoru. Each unanswered ring heightened the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. The Sierra Juárez forest blurred by, a green tapestry of urgency and apprehension. The need to warn Satoru, to alert him to the looming threat, fueled your determination.

Finally, a connection established, and Satoru's voice echoed through the phone. However, his usually confident tone sounded slightly broken as he greeted you, sending a chilling shiver down your spine. Your heart plummeted into your stomach, a knot of worry tightening with each strained word he spoke. The weight of concern hung in the air, transforming the urgency of your mission into an unspoken understanding that something was profoundly wrong.

The air in the truck suddenly felt thick, suffocating, as you tenderly questioned, "What's wrong, baby?" A dejected sigh escaped past Satoru's lips, his struggle evident as he tried to find the right words to break the news to you.

Yuji's dead," he confessed, and in that moment, everything seemed to fade away. Numbness gripped you as you pulled over to the side of the road, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "How?" you whispered in utter disbelief, tears welling up in your eyes as reality threatened to crumble around you.

"Sukuna had taken over his body and killed him," Satoru solemnly explained, his voice carrying the weight of a truth too painful to bear. "I know that the higher-ups are behind this. There's no way I would've sent first years on a mission dealing with a special grade."

The revelation sent shockwaves through your soul. Anguish and anger intermingled as you muttered, "They planned this..." Tears streamed down your face, a silent testament to the depth of your grief and the searing pain of loss.

Desperation tinged your voice as you softly questioned, "How's Megumi and Nobara holding up?" The fate of the remaining members of your students now rested heavily on you and Satoru’s shoulders, their well-being becoming a lifeline in the face of this unimaginable tragedy.

“They're handling it as well as they can," Satoru said, his voice carrying the weight of shared sorrow. As he ran his fingers through his white locks, you responded with a muted acknowledgment, "I see," allowing the heavy silence to linger between the lines.

"I didn't find Sukuna's finger," you confessed, the truth hanging in the air like an unspoken failure. Water droplets began to pelt your windshield, mirroring the storm of emotions brewing within.

"It's okay, baby," Satoru began, his attempt at reassurance cut off by your resolute voice. "No... that curse I faced in Minnesota is the one who took it." The words hung in the air, each syllable etched with a sense of responsibility and a haunting realization of the malevolent forces at play.

A shared understanding passed between you, transcending the distance of the phone call. The Sierra Juárez forest and its secrets, the stolen finger, and the loss of a dear comrade were now threads in a tapestry of darkness that demanded resolution.

As the rain intensified outside, a storm both literal and metaphorical, you found solace in the connection with Satoru, a lifeline anchoring you in the midst of the tempest that had become your reality.

“You don't think the special counsel is behind this, do you?" you softly questioned, the weight of suspicion casting a somber tone over your words. As raindrops continued their rhythmic dance on the roof of your truck, you rested your head against the steering wheel, feeling the cold metal against your skin.

Satoru's exhale resonated through the phone, a heavy acknowledgment of the gravity of your inquiry. "I can't be certain, but it wouldn't surprise me," he admitted, his voice a low murmur, mirroring the unsettled atmosphere that surrounded both of you.

The rain outside seemed to intensify, a reflection of the storm within. Satoru's words lingered, leaving you with a chilling realization that the intricate web of deceit extended even to those who were meant to uphold justice. As you sat in the dimly lit car, the Sierra Juárez forest whispered secrets, and the shadows deepened, obscuring the path forward into a darkness that held the keys to unraveling the mysteries that now gripped your world.

————————————————-

A weary and trusted sigh escaped Satoru's lips once he hung up the phone, the heaviness of the situation etched into the lines of his face. Glancing at Ijichi before beginning, he confessed, "You know... I have a real lousy personality, and despite that, [Name] still decided to marry me." He leaned back, crossing his arms and legs, a vulnerability coloring his words that belied the bravado.

"I still don’t understand why she chose you of all people," Ijichi muttered, his words carrying a tinge of genuine curiosity. Satoru, however, met the comment with a quick retort, injecting a hint of playful defensiveness into the conversation. "You're in for a serious slap to the face later, Ijichi," he quipped, a glint of humor surfacing as they navigated the complexities of personal dynamics amidst the weight of the unfolding events.

"I have a dream," Satoru began, his voice carrying not just frustration but a profound sense of determination and pain. "What happened with Yuji, and what they've been putting [Name] through since she got here, the higher-ups are nothing but scum. Stubborn, selfish, bloodline-proud idiots who refuse to change with the times." His words held the weight of experiences witnessed and scars endured, each syllable etched with the searing injustice he sought to challenge.

Pausing, he could feel his blood begin to boil, a mixture of anger and sorrow swirling within. "I want to reset the Jujutsu world," he declared, the dream in his heart eclipsed by the harsh reality he faced. The echoes of Yuji's fate and [Name]'s struggles hung heavy in the air, the dream not just a vision of change but a desperate plea for a world where justice and compassion triumph over the entrenched flaws of the current system.

"It'd be easy for me to just kill all of them, but new people would just take their place, and nothing would change. People also don’t take too kindly to massacres, and I know [Name] wouldn’t approve of it either, so… that’s why I'm here teaching," Satoru confessed, his voice carrying the weight of a profound struggle against the injustices he faced. He rested his elbows on his thighs, exhaustion etched into the lines of his face.

"If I’m going to have strong, intelligent, and honest allies, who better to foster them than [Name] and I," he mused, the words holding a poignant truth that transcended the turmoil of the present. The depth of his commitment to shaping a better world resonated through the quiet sincerity of his tone.

As he reflected on this purpose, a memory transported him back to a night that felt like a distant echo in time. Two years had passed since the arrival of Tsumiki and Megumi. On this particular night, Satoru, burdened by the weight of numerous missions, trudged through the front door, completely burnt out.

Lying his head against the couch's armrest, you softly spoke, "I know." The tenderness in your voice and actions spoke volumes as you slid off the bandages that covered his brilliant blue eyes. "But they're the next generation; they will stand on our shoulders and create a better world, jujutsu or not. Our hard work, love, nurture, and dedication to them will be worth it. Just watch."

With those words, a profound sense of hope and purpose infused the air. The intimate moment became more than a declaration; it became a shared commitment to forge a legacy that transcended the struggles of the present, anchoring both of you in the unwavering belief that your sacrifices and love would pave the way for a brighter future.

“In the end, I'll be able to hand off some of my missions to them, and with enough of us, I'll make sure that [Name] never steps foot in the field again," Satoru states, his voice carrying a mix of determination and a profound sense of protective commitment that extends beyond the realm of sorcery.

"I thought she loved being a sorcerer?" Ijichi questions, his curiosity met with a reflective gaze from Satoru. "She does, but she's witnessed enough—" Satoru stops mid-sentence, the weight of unspoken memories and the toll of the battles etched in the lines of his face. The depth of his concern for [Name] becomes palpable in that moment.

As Yuji sudden sits up, his once-bleeding wound now completely healed, Satoru's eyes widen with a mix of relief and genuine joy. The weight of the moment is palpable, and Gojo's typically composed demeanor gives way to an unguarded expression, revealing the depth of his care for the young sorcerer.

Satoru walks over and extends a hand towards Yuji, his brilliant blue eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions — relief, pride, and a shared triumph over the shadows that threatened to claim another life. In that moment, the mentor-student relationship transforms into a bond that transcends the supernatural battles they face.

"Welcome back, Yuji," Satoru says, his voice holding a warmth that defies the dangers they navigate. There's an unspoken understanding in the grip of the handshake, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges faced and the strength it took to rise again. It's a welcome back not just to the world of the living but to a community forged in the crucible of shared struggles, where each victory, no matter how small, resonates with the echoes of resilience and camaraderie.

As Satoru strolled down the hallways with Shoko, a palpable sense of urgency colored the conversation. Abruptly, he turned to her, his request infused with both concern and a determined resolve. "Could you leave Yuji as deceased in your report for the higher-ups? I need to train him so he can at least defend himself before he's targeted again."

Shoko, ever pragmatic, sighed as she pulled out a cigarette. The tendrils of smoke curled around her like a contemplative shroud as she considered the weight of the decision. "Fine, but the kid will probably have to go into hiding forever," she conceded, her voice carrying the burden of the choices they were making.

"Have you told [Name] what happened?" she questioned, the exhale of her cigarette punctuating the gravity of the situation.

"Yes and no. She doesn't know that he's alive, so I'll keep it a secret until she gets home and helps him with training," Satoru casually explained, his words revealing a strategic foresight tempered with an underlying concern for [Name]'s emotional well-being.

Shoko, her gaze penetrating through the wisps of smoke, continued to express her reservations. "Your wife thinks one of her students is dead, and you think that's a good surprise?" Her sigh echoed with a mixture of exasperation and concern, emphasizing the emotional toll of the decisions being made.

"I know it's not ideal, but keeping [Name] in the dark for a little while is necessary. It's for her safety and Yuji's," Satoru responded, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. The weight of leadership and the burdensome nature of safeguarding those they cared for hung in the air.

Shoko extinguished her cigarette, her gaze steady on Satoru. "Just be careful, Satrou. Secrets have a way of unraveling, and [Name] won't take kindly to being kept in the dark about something like this." Her words carried a weight of wisdom born from experience, underlining the potential consequences of their chosen path.

As they continued down the hallway, the echoes of their conversation lingered, mingling with the shadows that clung to the corridors. The delicate dance of secrecy and protection unfolded, leaving both Shoko and Satoru to navigate the intricate web of relationships and responsibilities that defined their world.

————————————————-

Restlessness gripped you as you anxiously bounced your leg upon landing back in Japan. The fatigue of nearly twenty-four hours spent in transit hung on your shoulders, but the weight of the unresolved issues and the looming influence of the higher-ups eclipsed any possibility of finding solace in sleep. Satrou had provided the location of a Gojo family safe house, a temporary respite in the ever-expanding storm.

As you watched the world rush by outside the window, the question lingered, refusing to be ignored: "What now?" The higher-ups' control over your life, intertwined with their tightening grip on the Jujutsu world, painted an uncertain tableau for the road ahead. The complexities and challenges that unfolded demanded a resilience beyond the physical fatigue you felt, delving into the emotional and intellectual realms.

As you arrived and opened the door, the scene unfolding before you felt like a dream, almost too good to be true. "Welcome back, teacher!" Yuji beamed with an innocence that mirrored the qualities you cherished in Haibara and your little brother. The echoes of their essence danced in his gestures—maturity, kindness, and an unwavering determination.

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you walked over, and with a mix of motherly affection and sheer relief, you enveloped Yuji in a warm hug. "I'm glad you're okay, kiddo," you tearfully stated, the weight of worry and uncertainty lifting in that moment.

As you tenderly wiped away the traces of your emotional reunion, the atmosphere shifted when you spotted your husband cheekily doing jazz hands from behind Yuji. Reacting swiftly, a mix of surprise and mild irritation fueled your instinct to elbow Satrou squarely in the side of his ribs.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You couldn't tell me he was okay?" you fumed, standing over his crumpled form, a cocktail of concern and playful reproach etched on your face.

"Sorry, my darling. Won't happen again," he mumbled, the mischievous glint in his eyes giving way to genuine contrition in his voice. Satrou's intentional decision to turn off his infinity, allowing the blow to land, revealed that although his actions were driven by a protective instinct, the trust between the two of you held a paramount importance.

The room, for a fleeting moment, delicately balanced between the joyous reunion and the light tension of this unexpected, playful exchange, revealing the intricate dance of understanding and humor that defined your marriage.

As Yuji observed you scolding your husband, two realizations dawned on him. Firstly, the profound strength that both you and Satoru embodied struck him, and a deep sense of gratitude welled up within him for the opportunity to learn from such formidable mentors. Secondly, a valuable lesson etched itself into his awareness—to never find himself on your bad side, an insight he vowed to carry with him as he navigated the intricate world of sorcery and life.

As Satrou regained his composure, he was quick to articulate the purpose behind bringing both of you to this particular place. "My lovely wife will be assisting you in mastering the control of your curse energy," he happily declared, a sense of pride underlying his words.

Yuji's face lit up with excitement as you readjusted your bun, a silent cue for him to join Satrou and you at the table. Eagerly, he followed, curious about the impending demonstration of curse energy versus curse technique.

"Alright, Yuji," you began, your voice a gentle blend of encouragement and guidance. "Controlling your curse energy is not just about raw power; it's an art that requires finesse and precision." Your hands gracefully gestured towards a carefully arranged set of objects on the table, each item poised for the unfolding lesson.

As Gojo demonstrated the intricate dance of curse technique versus the sheer force of curse energy, a spark of amazement flickered across Yuji's face. The room held a hushed anticipation, a collective breath drawn in as the supernatural forces were revealed.

"So you guys are gonna teach me how to use a super cool curse technique?" Yuji beamed, his enthusiasm tangible. However, the brightness in his expression dimmed as Satrou gently corrected him, "Curse technique is an innate ability," a thoughtful pause accompanying his glance towards you. "Though there are special circumstances, like my wife."

Yuji's face portrayed a mix of curiosity and confusion, prompting Satrou to delve deeper into the lesson. "You're already crazy strong," he addressed Yuji directly, a hint of admiration in his voice. "So, she's going to help you control it, allowing you to channel that strength into your close combat abilities."

Grasping the bear-like doll, adorned with boxing gloves on each hand, from its position leaning against the side of the couch, you hugged it to your chest. The soft material yielded under your touch, triggering a wave of nostalgic warmth evident in your expression. "I haven't seen this one in a long time," you giggled, savoring the familiarity of the plush companion. The doll continued to peacefully sleep in your arms as you settled on one end of the couch, creating a cocoon of memories around yourself, eagerly awaiting Satrou and Yuji.

"Alright, pick out a movie," Satrou suggested to Yuji as the two of them approached the couch. Confusion and a tinge of disappointment colored Yuji's voice as he responded, "Huh? Movie? I thought we were training."

"We are. Come and have a seat on the other end, and Satrou will explain the rest," you happily instructed, passing the bear-like doll over to Satrou with a gentle exchange. The plush companion seamlessly transformed into a symbolic prop, marking the commencement of the upcoming training session. Satrou, now holding the doll, embarked on an explanation for Yuji, the transition of the plush companion from your arms to his creating a tangible link in the lesson about to unfold.

"Now, Yuji, you're going to focus your curse energy into this doll while the two of you watch movies. Curse energy can also spike due to one's emotions," Satrou explained, his voice a steady guide in the magical tutorial. With a deliberate motion, he handed the doll off to Yuji, who received it with a mix of curiosity and determination.

Yuji's gaze shifted between Satrou and the bear-like doll in his hands, prompting him to ask, "So, I'm putting my curse energy into this thing while watching movies? How's that gonna help me?"

Satrou chuckled, recognizing the skepticism in Yuji's expression. "It's about control, Yuji. Sorcery isn't just about raw power. By channeling your curse energy into the doll, you'll learn to regulate and focus it. Think of it like refining a skill while enjoying a good movie—killing two birds with one stone."

As Yuji nodded in understanding, he took hold of the bear-like doll. In a surprising twist, the plush companion suddenly jerked and delivered a full-force punch to Yuji. The room echoed with a combination of startled gasps and laughter as Yuji grappled with the unexpected impact, the bear-like doll now proving to be an animated partner in this magical lesson. Satrou's eyes twinkled with amusement as he added, "And that, Yuji, is the importance of focus and control." The training had begun, infused with the unexpected charm of a sorcerer's unconventional teaching methods.

Over the course of a couple of hours, surrounded by the glow of the screen and the aroma of snacks, you had the chance to get to know Yuji a little better. As the night unfolded, you couldn't help but be amazed by his ability to learn and adapt so quickly.

"Hey, teacher," he suddenly began, setting his soda down. The movie you had been watching faded into background noise, creating a comfortable atmosphere for conversation. "How were you able to develop a curse technique without having any innate ability?" he innocently questioned.

The weight of your past settled in the room as you confessed, "My parents and I were attacked at home one night. They died from their injuries, but in a desperate attempt at survival, my body manifested my reverse curse technique, and I was able to live." In the blink of an eye, Yuji lost control, the doll swiftly delivering an uppercut as a laugh escaped past your lips.

The tension in the room dissolved with your laughter, lightening the mood. Yuji returned to the couch, and you softly placed your hand atop his head, activating your technique. The healing energy flowed, mending the bruise that had already begun to form. As the warmth of your touch enveloped him, a shared understanding lingered in the air—a connection forged through the tales of survival and the gentle touch of sorcery.

"I went through the foster care system for a while in the United States, and things weren't always the best. But it led me to being adopted by Yaga," you tenderly shared, the memories of your past etched in the undertones of your voice. With care, your hand, which had been healing the bruise on Yuji's cheek, gently withdrew.

"Huh? The principal was the one who adopted you?" Yuji's eyes widened with curiosity, prompting a soft smile from you as you nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and because of him, I was able to meet Satrou. He always looked out for me since the minute I got here. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be as strong as I am now," you softly confessed, a testament to the profound impact these figures had on shaping your life. Your love and admiration for your husband lingered in the air, a quiet melody beneath your words.

"Be patient, Yuji," you began, turning towards him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and encouragement. "I know that you'll be strong like Satrou too one day," you reassured him, the weight of your experiences adding depth to your words.

Surprisingly enough, the door swung open, and Satoru returned, his eyes alight with excitement. "Why watch from the sidelines when we can learn up close?" he declared, his grip on Yuji reflecting the infectious energy that radiated from him. The scene echoed the echoes of your first mission together—the rush of anticipation and the thrill of learning in the field.

Wishing them luck, you couldn't help but smile as Satoru swiftly kissed you, his touch a reassuring blend of familiarity. "Go home and rest," he advised, his voice carrying a mix of affection and concern. "Before the higher-ups decide to send you back."

Your eyes met his, and a soft chuckle escaped him. "I'll make sure this one doesn't get too carried away," he added, a playful glint in his eye. Yuji grinned in agreement, ready for the adventure ahead.

As they ventured into the night, the door closed behind them, leaving you with a mix of emotions. The quiet promise of their return lingered in the air, accompanied by the echoes of shared memories and the unspoken understanding that every mission brought its own unique challenges and lessons

————————————————

You luxuriated in the soothing embrace of a familiar shower, the warm water a comforting cascade in the sanctuary of your own home. Having relished the flavors of the takeout acquired on your way back, the essence of Satoru's natural scent lingered in the fabric of the bedding, creating a cocoon of familiarity as you sank into the plush mattress. Finally home, a subtle yearning lingered—one that only your husband could fulfill.

As you nestled into the soft comfort of the bed, the day's exhaustion momentarily forgotten, your senses heightened at the familiar creak of the front door opening. The subtle symphony of daily life hushed as Satoru stepped through the bedroom door, a palpable shift in the atmosphere. The room seemed to exhale, your weariness dissipating in the presence of the person who transformed any space into a haven.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Satoru softly inquired, his eyes filled with genuine concern, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss.

"You know I can't sleep without you," you responded with a sleepy coo, a faint smile playing on your lips. The room held a quiet intimacy, punctuated by the reassuring melody of his chuckle.

Satoru's brows furrowed with genuine concern as he observed your weary countenance. "You look exhausted," he remarked, his voice laced with worry, his six eyes reflecting the weight of his unease.

In response, you offered a tired smile and a dismissive wave, attempting to downplay the evident fatigue. "Just need a good night's rest before the New York mission in two days," you reassured him, unveiling your plans for a two-month break with a conviction that you could endure a bit more.

Satoru, however, couldn't shake off his worry. "You shouldn't have to bear such burdens," he argued passionately, his role as the head of the Gojo clan giving weight to his words. Yet, in a gesture that spoke volumes, you gently seized his hand, the warmth of your touch carrying a reassurance that transcended titles.

"Titles don't mean much to them," you sleepily conveyed, acknowledging the challenges your foreign status presented in the jujutsu world. Despite this recognition, your assurance cut through the fatigue, affirming that the love you shared surpassed any and all hardships.

As sleep beckoned you, Satoru watched your peaceful form, his six eyes picking up on the subtle signs of strain. "If the special counsel keeps pushing you like this," he confessed, his voice filled with a quiet resolve, "you might crumble through my fingers."

The room held the weight of shared concern and an unspoken promise—a promise to weather the storm together, regardless of the challenges ahead.

————————————————-

Hello my loves! Thank you for patiently waiting for this newest chapter and for supporting my work!

As always, much love xoxo

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

[bitchiswild]

Snowman

Huh Yunjin x F! Reader

Warnings: like 2 curse words but all fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n:🎄⛄️

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Yunjin and I were all set to head outside and enjoy the snow together. As I wrapped up getting ready, I stepped out of our room to find Yunjin sitting comfortably on the couch, already prepared for our snowy adventure. When she caught sight of me, she spun around with an impish grin, eyeing me from head to toe.

"Ho Ho Holy shit, you look good," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye. I couldn't help but pause, trying my best to stifle a laugh, but her playful comment broke through, and we both burst into laughter.

"That was so ridiculous," I managed between giggles, and Yunjin chimed in, our laughter intertwining and echoing through the room. Moments like these made our outings even more enjoyable, filled with light-hearted banter and shared joy.

"You look great, honey. Now, do you want to build a snowman?" Yunjin teased, playfully singing a line from the famous Frozen song. I couldn't help but chuckle at her playful antics, her humor adding an extra layer of delight to the moment.

Her spontaneous references to movies or songs always brought a smile to my face, infusing our activities with an added touch of whimsy. It was moments like these, where her playful spirit shone through, that made our time together even more cherished.

As we made our way outside, the crisp air greeted us, the snow-covered landscape sparkling under the winter sun. Yunjin and I ventured into the wonderland, our breaths creating clouds in the chill, the snow crunching beneath our boots.

Yunjin scooped up a handful of snow and without warning, playfully tossed it my way. I dodged, laughing, and retaliated, initiating a friendly snowball fight. Soon, we were both engrossed in the playful exchange, ducking behind mounds of snow, crafting forts out of the fluffy white powder.

The wintry scene around us transformed into a canvas for our amusement. We built a snowman together, each of us contributing unique touches and giggling as we adorned it with a quirky assortment of items we found nearby.

Our cheeks flushed pink from the cold, but our spirits soared high, fueled by the simple joy of spending time together, reveling in the magic of the snow-covered world around us. As the day began to wane, we trudged back home, smiling, with hearts warmed by the shared laughter and the simple pleasures of our snowy escapade.

As we continued our snowy escapade, our laughter echoed through the serene landscape. Amidst the flurry of snowballs and playful antics, I accidentally launched a particularly well-aimed snowball that caught Yunjin off guard. She laughed, brushing off the snow from her jacket with a grin.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to throw that snowball so hard," I exclaimed, half-apologetic and half-teasing.

Yunjin winked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, it's on now!" she declared, scooping up snow with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Our game intensified, each throw met with peals of laughter and good-natured apologies as snowballs flew back and forth. The world around us transformed into a playground, our camaraderie and the lighthearted banter infusing the winter air with warmth.

As the sun started its descent, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered landscape, we settled down on a nearby bench, catching our breath between fits of laughter.

"That was intense," Yunjin chuckled, wiping a trace of snow from her cheek.

"Yeah, but so much fun," I grinned, feeling a sense of pure contentment settle within me.

In moments like these, amidst the playful exchange and the shared joy, the simplicity of the snowy afternoon became a cherished memory, etched in the fabric of our relationship.

Out of breath after our snow ball fight Yunjin spoke up “ Do you want to build a snow man? She started staring at me, with a teasing smile.

As I got up, Yunjin mirrored my movements, and together we gathered the materials needed for our snowman—eyes, buttons, arms, and a carrot for the nose. Yunjin began to sing “Do you want t-”, but before she could finish, I interjected, playfully threatening her with a comical ultimatum.

"Yunjin, if you ask me if I wanna build a snowman one more time, I’m gonna break your jaw and ban sexy time," I teased. She pouted momentarily, but her love for the song persisted as she continued humming it while we assembled our snowy creation.

Finally completing our snowman, Yunjin proposed an unexpected idea. "I think we should make a catman," she suggested excitedly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"A cat man?" I echoed, a touch bewildered by the unexpected suggestion.

"Yeah! A cat snowman!" Yunjin exclaimed, already preparing to bring this feline-inspired creation to life. In that moment, watching her enthusiasm and creativity, my heart swelled with affection. It was these spontaneous, whimsical moments shared with her that solidified my deep love and appreciation for Yunjin.

Completing her cat-man masterpiece, Yunjin drew me close, beaming with pride as she gestured towards our whimsical creations. "Look at our beautiful family," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight. I couldn't help but chuckle in response.

"Our cat is a little wonky, just like the snowman," I remarked, glancing at our quirky, slightly asymmetrical creations.

Yunjin chuckled along, nodding in agreement. "But that's what makes them special," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "They have character."

In that simple exchange, I realized the beauty of imperfection, finding charm and uniqueness in our slightly off-kilter snow sculptures. It wasn't about flawlessness; it was about the joy, love, and memories we shared while crafting them. Yunjin's perspective always had a way of highlighting the beauty in the unconventional, making our little creations even more precious to me.

“Anyways” Yunjin's sudden shift in demeanor caught me off guard. Pulling away from me, she dashed toward our creations with surprising speed and delivered an unexpected kick to our snow sculptures. "Fuck them kids!" she exclaimed with a mix of mischief and playful rebellion.

I stood there momentarily stunned, processing the sudden turn of events, before bursting into laughter. Yunjin's spontaneous and outrageous behavior never failed to surprise me, and despite my initial shock, her antics always had a way of turning into moments of shared amusement.

As I chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, I couldn't help but appreciate Yunjin's unpredictable spirit, which constantly injected a sense of unpredictability and liveliness into our time together.

Yunjin's momentum from kicking the snow sculptures caused her to slip and tumble into the soft snow, laughter bubbling out uncontrollably. Concerned yet unable to contain my own laughter, I hurried over to her. However, before I could fully react, she playfully pulled me down beside her, enveloping me in her arms.

"I'm kidding, baby. I love kids," she chuckled between fits of laughter, her playful eyes meeting mine.

"I know, Yunjinie," I reassured her, a smile tugging at my lips as I nestled closer to her in the snow.

We remained there, wrapped up in each other's warmth, surrounded by the tranquility of the snow-covered landscape. In that moment, amidst our laughter and affection, I couldn't help but agree—it was indeed the best snow day ever, a day filled with love, laughter, and the pure joy of being together.

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

[restlesswritings]

CIX REACTIONS:

Reaction to you wearing their clothes

A/N: Requests open; Pairing: CIX Members x Fem Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: Suggestive, Cursing Masterlists: CIX JPOP KPOP

BX

You let out a groan, not being able to reach your favorite mug from the top shelf in the cabinet, "Ugh why did he put it up here!" You mumble to yourself, before standing up on your tiptoes, stretching your body as far as you can. "Ugh, almost got i-" Your words trail off when you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you, you twist back to look at them. "Ehm, hey.." You say sheepishly as you're met with your boyfriend, Byounggon, feeling your face heat up because you know he can definitely see your underwear peeking out from his shirt you have on. "Well damn you look good in my shirt.. need help?" He asks, letting out a laugh, making his way over to you, grabbing the cup and placing it in your hands. "Baby! Next time don't put my mug so high up!" You playfully scold, causing him to smirk as he wraps his arms around your waist. "Oh I'm definitely putting everything up high from now on!" He says, shooting you a toothy grin.

Seunghun

"Hey jagi, can you bring me my charger??" Seunghun yells to you from your shared bedroom, causing you to playfully roll your eyes as you grab his charger. "Hun, just pause the gam-" You begin as you walk into the bedroom, stopping when you see the way your boyfriend is looking at you, eyes completely abandoning the game. "What..?" You ask, standing awkwardly in the doorway, he continues staring at you before a smile creeps onto his face. "You're wearing my hoodie?" He asks, a slight smirk evident on his face. "Y-yeah.. you said I could?" You say slightly confused, earning a laugh from him. "I did but I didn't expect you to actually do it.. I like it a lot.." He says, a blush creeping up his face causing you to smile. "Oh? You do?" You ask, making your way to him. "I didn't think you'd like it this much." You say, a smirk making its way on your lips as you plant a quick kiss on his lips before sprinting out of the room, Seunghun trailing behind you.

Yonghee

"Y/N! You look so cute !" Your boyfriend says excitedly when he walks in the door after seeing you wearing one of his hoodies. "Awh haha thanks baby. How was rehearsal?" You ask, cheeks flushed from his previous compliment, Yonghee lets out a laugh at your shyness as he sits next to you. "Jagi, I can't focus right now, you look too cute in my hoodie!" He says, pulling you into his arms. "You're so dramatic!" You say through laughter when his fingers start tickling your sides. "S-stop." You beg, laughter continuing to fill the air as he joins you. "Only if you promise to never wear another hoodie again, only mine." He says in a serious voice, earning an exaggerated nod from you. "Okay yes whatever you want!" You yell out causing his fingers to stop as he pulls you into his arms. "Good, I could get used to this." He says, running his fingers through your hair. "I love you" You say with a smile, giving him a gentle kiss, causing him to smile. "I love you too."

Jinyoung

"What is it babe?" You ask with a laugh, not expecting your boyfriend to look at you like that when you arrived with groceries. "I'm shocked! You look so good you look in my clothes! I didn't think I'd like it this much is all jagi." He says, turning towards you with a loaf of bread in his hands and a nonchalant look. "Why are you surprised? You saw me put it on this morning.. as a matter of fact you were the one who lost my shirt!" You tell him with a loud laugh, glaring your eyes at him as you remember your lost shirt. "Wh-me? I don't remember that, I don't know what you're talking about." Jinyoung defends, holding in his laughter as he looks away from you. "Okay.." You say sarcastically, teasing him as you wrap your arms around him. "Do you really like it when I wear your clothes?" You ask, he nods, returning your embrace before he looks down at you with a smirk. "Although, thinking about this morning.. I like you better without them." He says, earning a playful smack to the chest followed by laughter from both of you.

Hyunsuk

"Hey Y/N, what was that song called aga-" Hyunsuk's words trail off when he sees you laying on the couch in his over-sized t-shirt, his voice causing your head to fly up. You shoot him a confused look when you notice him looking at you. "What's wrong?" You ask as he continues his stare, causing you to sit up in an upright position. "Is that my shirt?" He asks, taking a seat next to you, a smile forming on your lips. "Yes! Did you really think I wouldn't take you up on it when you offered to share your clothes??" You ask with a big smile, bumping his much larger shoulder with yours, causing him to let out a small giggle. "I'm really glad you did.. you look so cute in my clothes jagi." Hyunsuk says sweetly, pulling you into his arms. "I don't think you'll ever get this shirt back though.. it's so comfy!" You tell him as you wrap your arms around him and look up at him. "You can keep it, it looks better on you anyways." He says, giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead, causing a giggle to escape your lips.

A/N: They're so CUTE My requests are open! Feel free to request anything! <3

[bubybubsters]

Share (Eris x reader)

a/n: I just feel like writign and i have no ideas. send ideas please. pLus i have almost no life and a bunch of time. Also trying another perspective.... Thanks for voting, this one looked as though it would win so I went ahead and wrote it.

also Eris is high lord

⚠️- none?

word count- 1,955

Y/n's POV:

I sighed pushing the branches blocking the hunting path out the way. Cursing myself wouldn't help anything even though I'd been doing it the past hour. I never should have gone so deep into the woods. Now I couldn't find my way back to my cottage. The branch I was holding slipped from my grasp and slapped my face with a loud twang! A string of curses left my mouth and I blushed as a chuckle reached my ears.

A red haired high fae male appeared, his clothes the color of the forest around us. No wonder I hadn't seen him. He smirked at me, "Such a pretty girl with such a dirty mouth, how shocking."

I glowered at him but didn't deign to respond. His face became more serious and he smiled, "Look there's and inn kinda close, I'm going there. You look like you could use a hot bath and a place to sleep, so put aside your pride and join me unless you have somewhere else to be?"

I thought about it, I really didn't want to admit I was lost but... well I was lost. Besides a bath and shelter was good enough a reason to follow this arrogant male. "Okay, lead on."

He grinned, "As you wish lady, my name is Eris and this is going to be a lovely 9 miles." I cursed in my head, 9 miles? I'd probably already trekked 50+ miles (a/n: fae can do that right?). I followed after Eris and was amazed when it seemed as if all the trees were moving out of his way. Thats when his name hit me.

Eris. As in the high lord? I opened my mouth to ask but he cut me off, "Yes I am the High Lord, no I can't read your mind. To be fair I can practically sense your shock from here though." I stared at his back for a moment.

"Well then my lord, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

He glanced back and gave me a look. "First of all I'm not by myself am I? Second, what happened to the rude girl that curses? And third, just call me Eris please."

I raised my brows, "That 'rude girl that cusses' is still here, she just became slightly more polite. Thank you for your input on my attitude Eris."

I watched as Eris' body shook with silent laughter. "No problem, but I don't believe I ever got your name."

I hesitated, weighing my options. He was my high lord but he might not appreciate what I was doing every day. "Y/n."

Eris stopped so suddenly I smacked straight into his chest, not realising he'd turned around. "The Y/n who saved dozens of villages when my father and I fought? The one who keeps helping with the rebuilding effort by defending the villages from the creatures that come out at night? The person my soldiers can never find? That Y/n?"

I grimaced, he was making my actions seem a lot more vital than they actulaly were. "Yeah, that Y/n." I looked down at the ground, sure soldiers were about to leap out and arrest me.

Instead I felt cold fingers on my chin, lifting my head to look into Eris's amber eyes. He smiled and I gawked at him. "You're not mad?"

He stared at me, confused. "Why would I be mad? You've been helping so much and you always seem to be there when I can't. Even my brothers respect you."

I gawked at him, his brothers respected me? The Vanserra family had a reputation for scorning everything and everyone. “Well if I’m so amazing, why would you send your soldiers looking for me, high lord?

Eris blinked, “Uh because I wanted to reward you. What did you think? That I was going to punish you for helping my people?”

“Well…yes?”

Eris sighed and turned back around, starting to make his way to the inn. “I would never.” I blinked at his back, I’d heard Eris was a considerably better high lord than he father but still. “I- okay thanks?”

Eris laughed, “no need to thank me little fox, you’re the one helping my court afterall.”

As we continued through the woods, I realised the path was getting wider and looked as though more people had been walking here. We must be getting close.

moments later we came to the outskirts of a town. Only a few buildings littered the streets but it seemed to be quite crowded. Eris let me to a run down building in what seemed to be the middle of town. It was the tallest building and had lots of windows. All the lights were blazing but shadows still lurked in corners. Eris led the inside, letting me trail behind him.

When we reached the clerk she looked at Eris and I and recognition flashed over her face. She bowed her head, “High Lord, Y/n; savior of life and defender against evil.”

Eris cast an amused glance back at me and I grimaced at the title the lesser fad had given to me. Eris smirked, full of arrogance and swagger as he said, “we’ll need two rooms or one room with two beds.”

The clerk paled, “high lord, we only have one room left and it only has one bed. We could kick another out for your comfort?”

Both Eris and I said at the same time, “no need, we’ll share.” I glared at Eris as he sent an exasperated look my way.

Sighing I turned back to the clerk, “as long as there’s room for one of us to sleep on the floor.”

Now the clerk winced, “Well… it’s the last basement room and um the smallest. It has a bed and a bathroom, no room for anything else. Deepest apologies my lord and lady.”

I glanced at Eris but he seemed the same as ever, completely unruffled. He smiled at her, “Thank you, we’ll take that room if it’s not to much trouble.”

I stared at him, were we going to share a bed? Because I did not like where this was heading. The clerk sputtered apologies and led us down a narrow, spiraling staircase. We emerged in a dark hallway with a few rooms on either side. She led us to the end of the hall and opened the last door on the left. Eris and I stepped in as she bowed and murmured thanks and apologies.

The room could’ve been a big closet, it had one bed about the length of a single pillow and a small door leading to a small tub and sink. I closed the door as we took the room in and my chest brushed against Eris’ shoulder. We stood on the only floor space available, about as big as a coffee table.

Silence reigned until I cleared my throat and started to open the door, "uh.... I'll just leave you. I can probably find my own place to sleep." Giving Eris a small smile I added, "thank you High lord for leading me to this town."

Eris flashed me his signature smirk, "didn't I tell you to call me Eris?" Not waiting for an answer he continued, "And you're staying, you will sleep in that bed whether you like it or not. Besides if anyone's leaving, its me if you don't want me here."

This male really was the opposite of his father, he seemed to be giving me a choice. "Well then Eris, I'd like to stay and since I don't seem to be in the position to kick you out I guess you'd better stay as well. And I don't care if you've given me permission, Im not kicking my high lord out."

This time when Eris smirked it was feral and very, very suggestive. I glared at him and stalked into the bathroom, "I call bath rights."

Eris's POV:

Eris couldn't seem to stop thinking about Y/n as the sounds of running water filled the tiny room. He sat on the bed, it was small enough that he would have to touch her, there was no way around it. By the looks of it, sleeping would be most comfortable if he cuddled her. Which by the looks of the glare, she did not seem to be remotely interested in.

He still couldn't believe that she was the Y/n that he had thanked many times. She'd saved at least half his people by now. She seemed so fragile when he'd first saw her, despite having at least 10 weapons that weren't hidden.

He jolted as the bathroom door opened and Y/n appeared. Heat immediately rose to his face, she had just undergarments on. She gave him a look that told him not to say anything about it as she set her weapons on a hook on the wall. "I didn't bring night clothes so you're going to have to suck it up and stop staring like an idiot."

Eris gave her the cockiest grin he could muster up, "Don't worry, I usually sleep in my underwear but for you I can do nude." She looked about ready to slap him as he swaggered past her to the bath. When he brushed her shoulder he leaned down and whispered, "You'll be naked soon enough as well."

For the rest of the bath he couldn't get the image of her bright red face out of his mind.

Y/n's POV: (why am i switching back to first person?)

You'll be naked soon enough as well.

Eris's words kept ringing in my head as he bathed. I couldn't help but think of the muscles so clear through his too tight shirt. I sighed, picking at my clothes before stripping so I was naked. Two could play at this game.

As I climbed beneath the covers I turned my thoughts toward Eris' extremely muscled chest so when he came out he would be sure to smell my arousal. It couldn't be missed as I felt my body heat up.

The door to the bathroom opened and Eris appeared with a towel slung low across his hips. Cauldron that chest. He sniffed and his gaze immediately shot to me. Then to the undergarments hanging next to my weapons. His nostrils flared as he climbed into bed so we were facing eachother, lips bare inches apart.

i felt the covers shift as he removed his towel and tossed it over his shoulder. I slowly moved my legs forward and entangled them with his.

Silence settled for a while as we just stared into eachothers eyes, content to be there. I'd made the first move, I wasn't going to make another. And thank the mother I didn't have to. Eris held my eyes as he slowly leaned forward, placing his lips onto mine.

The kiss was soft and tender at first but when I didn't pull away, Eris deepened the kiss so it was desperate and passionate. It felt so good to be kissing this male, it felt right.

Eventually I had to pull away and when I looked into Eris's eyes they were soft and he was smiling at me. A real smile, not a smirk. I leaned forward and quickly pecked his lips and turning around before he could see the blush that stained my cheeks.

But his soft chuckle told me he had caught it. Eris slung an arm over me pulling me into his chest. "Goodnight little fox, sleep well."

I smiled to myself, realising that this was the most comfortable I'd felt since my familys death to Beron's fire.

So of course, that's when the bond snapped into place, ringing in my ears. In my soul.

a/n: think this is my longest fic yet! hope you enjoyed!

[mimisfortress]

Guess who lost her diary key and is now turning to Tumblr to blog my feelings (me) 🦄🌈

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💞💌Really long VENT post coming your way ❤️‍🩹🪽

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Currently going through an emotional rut.

I feel pretty unsure of myself. I lost a couple of friends and I am having a hard time knowing whether it was my fault or if they had it coming.

These weren't just normal friends, they were family at that point. We witnessed unspeakable things together at a fairly young age and I really, really, really thought that our friendship was forever. I thought our friendship was different from everyone else's in a sense that growing older wouldn't impact us the way adults warned us it would. I thought trauma made us special and I thought change wouldn't find us.

To these friends, I was their baby sister and they treated me as such, too. They dogged on who I loved and did not trust me to make my own choices. They grilled someone who I had genuine love for after not batting an eye at the unhappy abusive relationship I was in for three years.

As I grew older, I grew distant because I was too scared to express that the way they treated me upset me. I figured that since they already have so much to worry about in their lives, my fragile feelings would burden them.

I am aware of the importance of communication, but I simply just felt like I couldn't communicate my feelings to them in any way.

During the past month, our friendship of 9 years came to an end. It crashed and burned when I couldn't make it to a big hang out that costed a lot of money. It was only supposed to be my friend and I, just us two. Luckily, this former friend of mine got a refund and another friend was able to take my place.

I don't know why they wanted me so bad. They had a lot to say about how bad of a friend I was and not much good to say about me, and yet they wanted me so bad. I didn't feel appreciated as a person and they didn't celebrate me as a friend. Yet, if they told me they needed me I'd come in and do what I could to the best of my ability even after they told me they hated me or told me my desperate attempts to help after they begged for my help was "inappropriate". I still stayed because if I'm the one in the wrong, I can also make it into a right if I really tried.

I hate to say it, but I feel anger when I think about these friends of mine. What I hate even more is that I keep wanting to go back. I keep wanting to say "yes! You're right, I am a terrible and awful person and I will change myself just for you guys!" just to hear their laughter again, see their funny smiles, and . . . inevitably get sent large paragraphs of text telling me I did something wrong again. And then the cycle repeats where I think that I'm wrong and they're right because I'm the little sister who's immature and doesn't know anything and they're the older, wiser sisters who parent me.

I was really sure that I was the failure. I was the one that failed to hold it together. I mean, come on! I didn't communicate my feelings, I told a big lie to them, and I grew distant without explanation.

But then I had invited a friend of mine into my home who has hurt more times than anyone I've ever known. We didn't have to experience a terribly traumatic event together at a young age to be best friends, she just loved me. She loved me and she told me why.

She liked that I didn't yell or curse when she had moments of frustration and impatience, she appreciated my high level of patience, and she tells me that she thinks I have emotional intelligence.

My other friends never told me anything like that. They think I suck at supporting them, they don't think I can be trusted to make good decisions, that I'm an inconvenience and blah, blah, blah, blah.

At my house, my friend looked over the texts shared between me and these other friends. Maybe it's pushing their privacy, but I felt like it was detrimental for my mental health for eyes other than mine to view these text messages and tell me if I'm allowed to be upset or not.

This friend of mine looked at these text messages with complete and utter disgust. I watched her make faces viewing the messages. She visibly cringed upon reading them and it shocked me. I thought she was going to be able to find something I said, point at it, and tell me "here's what I think made her mad. I can help you write an apology if you want!"

But no, reading the exchange of text messages angered her so much that she couldn't bare to read the rest, which disappointed me. What if she's missing the part where I say something I need to apologize for?

What she told me was this :

• You need to stop letting them walk all over you, you need to write a long message to them but not out of empathy or kindness, but to give yourself closure. You need to do more for yourself. I just don't want you to sit here and let them bully you.

• They are simply just choosing to believe that you are a bad friend. You don't talk bad about them to me at all, and yet they claim that's all you've been doing.

• Why is it okay for them to discuss what they don't like about you behind your back and not you?

And stuff like that. We never ended up sending a long text for me to express my emotions because knowing these friends, they'd blow up on me even more and tell me how a lot of it is actually my fault.

It's been a hard 3 months. I'm worried about becoming exactly what these friends of mine chose to believe I was; an unempathetic, emotionally unintelligent, mentally-unstable, coldhearted, and immature creature.

This is because often times things are believed into existence. Therefore, I'm going to work on kindness without the expectation of something in return, generosity, mental clarity, and patience to prevent their beliefs from becoming reality. I'm not going to give anyone a reason to treat me like they did ever again.

This situation has impacted my mental health pretty negatively, and so I'll be posting updates on my mental health!

[a-fools-circus]

happy October aka Kinktober !! all drabbles will be from the Ghostober prompt list by @kroas-adtam. and hopefully i won't lose motivation after the first week. enjoy !

Ghostober Day 1: High Sex

Pairing: Papa IV/f!Reader Word Count: 1.5k Tags/Warnings: drug use (obviously), high sex (obviously), f receiving oral, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of the word 'cunt'

NSFW under the cut/Minors DNI

You weren’t sure what you expected to happen when you brought weed to Copia’s dressing room after tonight’s ritual. Maybe it would calm him down and prevent him from obsessing over minute details. Maybe he’d get tired and finally get a good amount of sleep tonight—something that never happened on tour. 

You certainly didn’t expect him to drop to his knees and bury his face between your legs. 

It took a little while before he got this desperate. At first, the only thing that changed was his humor. Meaning he found everything absolutely hilarious. He was definitely calmer than he typically is; he focused on the red sequins of his jacket instead of the possible mishaps of his performance. It didn't help that you found the fascination with his clothes hilarious, which only prompted him to laugh with you.

It was almost sweet how you sat together, limbs entangled, sharing a joint, as your laughter and slurred speech filled the room. The rest of the world faded away completely.

However, with your intoxicated states came increased sensitivity, meaning you both felt every slight brush as your bodies shifted. You didn't intend for your legs to rub against his hips, but when he stopped laughing and started grunting, you couldn't stop yourself from continuing. All that mattered was enticing him to keep making those noises.

But playing with fire had its consequences. It took only a few more teasing rubs—including one "accidental" brush of your hand—for Copia's restraint to break. Whether it was the lingering adrenaline from the show or the marijuana in his system (or, perhaps, a mixture of both), you couldn't tell, but something in him needed more.

You could barely register his movements when they happened. He pushes your legs off of his lap as he scoots to the edge of the sofa, the sudden movement nearly causing you to drop the blunt in your hand. He drops to his knees before you with an audible thud. 

A weak giggle leaves your lips, looking down at him as he parts your legs. “Copia, what are you—” His sudden tug on your hips cuts you off, dragging you to the edge of the cushion and bringing your body closer to his eager form. 

“I need to taste you, cara,” you can barely hear him mutter. He tugs firmly at your clothing, practically tearing away every piece of fabric that adorns your lower half until only your panties remain. There’s a fierce determination in his eyes, visible even in the low light of the room. “I need to feel your cunt throb against my tongue.”

Copia parts your thighs, his hands grasping firmly as he delves into the tempting space between them. He kisses the drenched fabric of your panties before licking across the wet stain of your arousal. Gloved hands claw at your clothing, pushing it to the side, too impatient to bother taking it off. 

You can barely see him pull his gloves off below you. Now freed from the restricting fabric, his hand brushes over your soaked and sensitive skin. He hardly applies any pressure as he savors the wetness that seeps onto his fingers. He curses under his breath, smiling raggedly as you twitch and whine at his fleeting touches. 

“Look at you, tesoro…Already dripping wet for me. So needy and willing. So desperate for your Papa, eh?” His eyes lock onto yours, bloodshot with pupils dilated with lust. You groan as his thumb swirls over your clit. “You’re aching for it, yeah? To feel Papa’s mouth on your needy cunt?”

The hunger in his movements and words is unlike anything you’ve witnessed in him before. He can get desperate—especially if you deprive him of what he wants—but he’s never been like this. 

It really turns you on.

You sigh breathlessly as you nod at his words. “Yes, Copia. I want your mouth on—”

His movements stop entirely, his hands moving to your thighs as a disappointed “tsk” leaves his mouth. “Ah, ah. Papa.”

You whine and roll your hips toward him. Your thighs tremble under his firm grasp. “Y-yes, Papa,” you pant. “Yes, I want your mouth on me. Please, please put your mouth on me.”

“There’s my good girl.”

Copia’s hands stay firmly on your thighs as he finally gives in to your desire. His tongue darts out, licking one long, slow wet stripe over your aching heat. The sensation makes you shudder—every nerve feels alight in your intoxicated state. 

Before you can even open your mouth to react, his lips latch onto you, his tongue exploring every inch of your wet flesh. His eyes flutter shut as he focuses on your taste, your texture, and the sounds that spill from your lips. His tongue slides over your clit to swirl delicious circles around it. Every point of contact makes you squirm and whine.

Your hips instinctively arch towards him. Your head falls back against the sofa, lips parting as his mouth makes you moan and sigh. One hand glides through the strands of his hair while the other brings the nearly-forgotten blunt to your mouth. You take a hit, sighing as the smoke fills your lungs. 

“Hai un sapore così buono, cara.” Copia’s voice is muffled against your sensitive skin, but you feel every syllable as his words vibrate against you. 

He pulls back slightly and the air against your wet skin makes you shiver. You can hear the faint sound of him spitting as he sits before you. Two of his fingers run over your slit, swirling his saliva with your arousal as he teases your entrance. The sensation makes you whine. 

A groan rumbles in his throat as his fingers move daringly closer to your core. Then, in a sudden move that catches you off-guard, two digits slide effortlessly inside. Copia immediately curls his fingers upwards, knowing exactly where to direct his touch to coax every ounce of pleasure out of you. You can almost feel him smile against you when he presses a kiss to your thigh as you groan and twitch. 

Copia’s determination only swells as he hears your reactions. His tongue laps at the escaping droplets of your arousal as they cascade over your skin. “So good for Papa…Cazzo.” He mutters into the meat of your thigh as his fingers pump into you. Filthy praise and desire spill from his lips, breathless words that tell you just how lost in his lust he is.

“Fuck, Papa…” You mewl as your body thrums with incessant need. One leg moves to rest on his shoulder, pulling him in and keeping him close. He growls and a string of affirmations falls from his lips. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise if you wanted to.

“So good…your cunt is so fucking good, cara.” His words only amplify your desire as the friction makes you jerk your hips against his movements. “Yeah, fucking grind that pussy against me. Prendilo, dolcezza, prendilo.”

His movements pick up speed, his fingers pounding into you as his tongue finds its way back to your clit. You can’t even form words; your mind is too focused on the sensations to do anything other than moan and whine. Your grip tightens in his hair for silent encouragement. 

The familiar tension in your abdomen coils with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers. “Papa, ‘m gonna…you’re gonna make me cum,” you sigh, your words slurring together. 

Copia groans against your clit, the sensation vibrating deep within your core. “Mm, such a pretty pussy deserves to cum on my face, yes?” You whine in response, nearly clamping your thighs around his head. His free hand latches onto your thigh to hold you open as his mouth laps and sucks. 

A final pump of his fingers has you crying out, your orgasm hitting you in powerful waves. The feeling is intense—far more intense than when you’re sober. Copia groans against you as you tug his hair to keep him in place. His tongue licks slowly over your sensitive skin, working you through the high. 

You barely have the energy to move, lying on the sofa panting for air and throbbing around his fingers. You whine when he slides out, the loss of contact leaving you empty. It takes every ounce of restraint not to clamp your thighs around him when you feel him lap at your entrance to lick up the wet remnants of your climax. 

Copia places a small kiss on your thigh before rising from his knelt position. He’s beyond disheveled; his hair is tousled from your grip and the paint on the lower half of his face is smudged or completely wiped off. You can only imagine what the inside of your thighs looks like. 

He takes the blunt out of your hand, knowing you’ve completely forgotten about it. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he takes a hit from it and sits on the empty cushion next to you. The sequins on his jacket glimmer despite the low light of the room. Placing a hand on your thigh, he squeezes playfully. 

You smile weakly at him, your mind swimming with a mixture of intoxication and a post-orgasm haze. “I’ve gotta get you high more often.”

[crooked-haven]

Surprise! | Angst

➭ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x (F) Reader

➭ Genre: Angst & Fluff

➭ Warnings/Tags: Cursing, Sad, Betrayal, 2 Author Povs, 1 Y/n Pov.

➭ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are purely coincidental. Also this is my story so please don’t steal!

➭ By: Crooked-haven

Word count: 0.9k

-Author's POV-

Jungkook and y/n had been together for two years. They were high school sweethearts, but now they were both in college, living together and deeply in love. Or so it seemed.

One day, after a particularly long day of classes, y/n came home to find Jungkook sitting on the couch with a funny look on his face, nose deep into his phone, clearly smiling about something.

"Hey, babe." he said. "I have something I want to show you."

Y/n, always eager to see what her boyfriend was up to, walked over and leaned in to look at his phone, before she could see what was on the screen, Jungkook quickly pulled it away and locked it.

"What's going on?" she asked, confused but not completely oblivious to the glimpse of a heart next to a girls name she saw. "I have a surprise for you." Jungkook said, grinning.

Y/n didn't know what to make of this. She had never been one for surprises, but Jungkook was always full of them. So she sat down next to him and waited. After a moment, Jungkook stood up and said, "Follow me."

Y/n trailed behind him up their carpeted stairs, wondering what he had planned, smiling at all the possibilities. He led her into their shared bedroom and closed the door gently. "Okay, close your eyes." he said in an eager tone.

Finally what seemed like hours, he spoke in almost a teasing manner. "Okay, open your eyes."

-Your POV-

I slowly opened my eyes, and what I saw made my heart instantly sink. Jungkook was standing there, holding hands with another girl.

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and could feel the lump growing in my throat. I can't believe that Jungkook would do this to me, and the worst part was the way the other girl was staring at me, smug and self-satisfied.

Jungkook broke out into a grin as my eyes slowly started tearing up, I had no idea he was ever capable of something so heinous.

"Gotcha!" he said, breaking out into a fit of laughter. I was stunned. I have never seen Jungkook act like this. I have no idea what to say or do. Finally, I say in a shaky voice, tears rolling down my cheeks. "What's g-going on?"

"It's a prank!" Jungkook said, still grinning yet still holding hands with the unknown girl. "I wanted to see how you'd react if you thought I was cheating on you." He stepped forward as I stepped backwards. He let the girls hand go.

I couldn't believe it. I had been so scared and hurt, and now Jungkook was just laughing it off like it was no big deal. I took a deep breath, sniffing as I watch the female awkwardly leave. "That's not funny." I said, getting up from the bed. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry baby." he pouted, still smiling. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see how you'd react."

"Well, I reacted pretty badly." I said, crossing my arms, suddenly feeling insecure. "Why would you ever think that's okay?" I wiped my tears away with the sleeves of my, well his hoodie.

"I don't know.." he said in a low tone, his smile fading, and looking down at his feet. "I guess I just wanted to have a little fun..." he mumbled out, clearly feeling guilty of what he's done.

I sighed. I don't know how to feel about this. I am hurt and confused, but part of me also understands that Jungkook had meant no harm, yet the burning in my chest at the thought of no longer having him, made it hurt worse.

"I think I need some time to myself." I said, walking towards the door of our shared room. "Wait baby!" He said in rather a whisper than a yell, following behind me, only stopping at the top of the stairs. "Don't leave please, we can talk about this." I shake my head no and walk to the living room.

-Author's POV-

Y/n was hurt, and she didn't want to talk. She wanted to be left alone so she could understand all the feelings attacking one another inside her chest. So with that, he grabbed his jacket and keys, texting his best friend, Taehyung, that he was on the way and left their shared apartment, giving y/n the space she desired.

He messed up big time.

End♡︎

A/n-

I have been getting back into the quick oneshots, but I hope you enjoyed this one, this was a bit of a cliffhanger and I may add a part 2 to it.

Anyways! If you enjoyed don't forget to comment and give me a ♥️, it's much appreciated!!

Until next time!!~

[theunspokenart]

"So it's the end, again?" Brian muttered to himself, escaping a loud sigh after his love story ended too soon. Days gone by, Brian is still a loser who got his heart broken, mainly because of love.

Brian once questioned something like, "What is, what is love?" and got him to lose the hope of falling in love with someone, after painful heartbreak. Brian once tried to setback from the ground, keeping his head high, and found another reason to love again, but then reality fooled him once more.

He didn't know whether it was a curse or blessing? A curse, because his relationship didn't run smoothly. Contrary to it, he also considered it as a blessing, mainly because he was saved from something that he might not expect, if he continued his previous relationships.

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After all, Brian Archer still believes in love once more, ever since he met Shiera Clair. Their first encounter was nothing special, but somehow it was memorable. That time when Shiera got featured on his own show. They exchanged interesting stories, and their conversations just flow effortlessly. As if Brian had known her for so long.

"Shiera Clair, it's nice to know you. You had a lot of topics to bring on the plate and it seemed like everyone had so much fun, too. I hope we can stay in touch after this. You can hit me up through 019-012-1993!" Brian extends his hand nervously to her, knowing damn well that he is interested in getting closer with her.

Shiera later grabs his hand in return, with her cheeky smile that gets him melted, "It's nice to know you too, Brian Archer. I don't mind staying in touch with you. I'll hit you up soon!"

That brief encounter led us to what we are right now. Even until today, Brian still feels surreal and keeps wondering, "So, this is love?" whenever he realized that Shiera is now officially using Archer as the surname.

"Baby, are you spacing out?" Shiera waves her hand in front of Brian's face, as if trying to bring him back to his senses. She shakes her head repeatedly afterwards, before embracing his figure warmly, even soothing his back with the gentle caress. "Are you thinking about me?" Said her in a confident manner.

Brian can't help but let out a small giggle, knowing that Shiera will tease him, if she finds out that he really can't stop thinking about her. "Try to guess, sweetheart?" Brian turned into a sly fox once more, bringing laughter echoes through their room. He even stole some light pecks on her lips, got Shiera's cheeks blushed.

Shiera is the most precious human being for Brian, more than anyone else in his life, aside from his parents. She is the one who healed his wounds and brought back the happiness he always dreamed of. Her existence itself helps Brian to get through the life. All thanks to you, Shiera Archer.

"My baby, sometimes I get curious. How could you love me and cherish me without expecting anything in return?" Brian finally let out the thoughts he had in his mind, while his fingers ran through her hair, eyes staring at her intensely.

Shiera responded to him without a doubt, "Brian Archer, I love you for who you are. You're like my home to me. I feel secure and I don't feel scared when I am with you. That's why I love you and I want to cherish you wholeheartedly." Both of them later exchanged the loving gazes filled with so much affection beneath it.

Oh, Brian at a loss for words now. Instead of responding with words, Brian pulled her for an intimate kiss, pouring their feelings into the shared kisses. Somehow, the best way to express your love is through kisses and that's what Brian always does to Shiera.

"Shiera Archer, thank you for allowing me to love you. I have always been grateful to be yours. Moreover, we have tied the knots, exchanged vows to be together for a long time. I love you so much, my dear. I will always be there, whenever you need me. I will always love you in a natural way, like breathing, my other half." Brian wrapped up his statement with a gentle peck on her lips afterwards, igniting a little giggle from the two lovebirds.

Now, Brian is no longer worried, since Shiera always reassures him that Shiera loves him entirely. Brian knows how deep their love is. Their love never gets swayed with any obstacles that might await them anytime soon, because they believe in each other. Brian can overcome anything with Shiera, the love of his life.

My Shiera Archer, I will always treasure you from the deepest of my heart. I love you, my dear. Five months have passed and I can't wait to celebrate another 23 with you. ❤

[lonelywhalien22]

trust me

pairing: bang chan x reader

rating/genre: comfort, fluff, sprinkle of angst

summary: you're having a bad day and your boyfriend chan is there to try and make you feel better.

warnings: reader is low key hella sad in this (take care of yourselves yall <3) + a steamy kiss (very self indulgent ik i'm sorry)

word count: 2.7k

song(s) to listen to while reading: steamroller by phoebe bridgers (reader is hella sad so are we surprised lol), renee's song by bazzi, fall by chloe x halle

note: while i try to tame some bigger fic ideas into submission i'll occasionally polish up + share some of my more decent smaller pieces from years past. pretty sure i wrote this one in the throws of the p*ndemic while struggling with college and feeling hella touch starved...so yeah...enjoy lol <3

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It was one of those days - one where that funny feeling had bubbled up inside of you, seemingly out of nowhere. You knew it all too well by now, knew its signs and its symptoms. One moment you’d be fine, and then it would happen - a dreaded phone call for an appointment that you could no longer put off, a tedious task at work, a much needed item that you’d misplaced and couldn’t find - sometimes it was all of these things in one day and more, and suddenly you weren’t ok. And as much as you’d try to not let all the frustrations of life get to you, as much as you’d try to hold on to the good, to the light, sometimes bit by bit it would still slip from your grasp until you were tired of trying and there was nothing left inside of you but a dull gray.

You hated when you got in these sorts of moods - used to think there'd be some stage in life, some milestone you could reach, thing you could achieve that would make them go away forever, but you’d survived enough of them by now to know that it was a lifelong battle. There were highs and lows, and today just happened to be one of the lows.

Today also just happened to be one where your boyfriend Bang Chan was supposed to be coming over. His presence was one that so often brought light into your life - fun and laughter and a smile to every situation, but despite having accepted that you were in a sour mood, the thought of him seeing you this way made you feel worse instead of better - like a recluse undeserving of such sweet affection. As if he could hear your thoughts from afar, your cellphone began ringing on the kitchen table, temporarily snapping you right out of your self pity.

“Am I still good to stop by in an hour?" You could practically hear the excitement in his voice, imagining his charming smile immediately, but the warmth in your chest only lasted for a second before you just felt even more upset with yourself. You didn’t wanna burden him with your feelings - tramp all over his joy with your frustration.

"Hey Chan. I'm sorry, but I'm kind of feeling like trash right now." You thought maybe that would be the end of it, hoped that he would read between the lines, but he was completely oblivious, a caring tone seeping into his words as he tried to help you instead.

"Are you sick? I can pick up something for you and bring it by if you want.”

"No, that's not exactly it," you began, struggling to find the words. There was a long pause on the line, and you could hear Chan shifting, as if he was sitting up. You cursed in your head. There was no way he was gonna let this go now - not when you were being so distant. 

“Babe, you know you can tell me anything right?” His use of the nickname made your heart flutter again, gently coaxing you to open up to him - to be honest.

“I know.” 

“Then talk to me.”

“I just…I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid,” Chan said immediately. “Tell me what’s going on.”

You let out a sigh before nervously continuing. “It’s just…sometimes I’ll get in this really weird headspace and it makes me feel like crap and...I'm just annoyed with myself. I'm sorry if that doesn't make any sense...I think maybe I just need to be alone right now," you tried to get the last words out but began to break down a little as you really thought about what you’d said. Something about hearing it out loud made it feel all the more real, your eyes beginning to water and throat beginning to dry up.

“It sounds like you're upset. You sure you don't want me to come over?” 

You took a big breath, trying to calm yourself before speaking again, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find it in you to say anything else. It felt paralyzing - being stuck between the part of you that just wanted him to be with you and the part that was afraid you’d scare him away forever with your feelings. The more you thought about it the more emotional you got, and you felt a tear run down your cheek before you started to sob silently into the phone.

"Babe? Y/n?” Chan asked, voice becoming laced with concern. 

"Yeah?" It was all you could manage to sob out.

"I'm coming over right now," he said quickly, making the decision for you. You could already hear shuffling sounds in the background as he presumably scrambled to grab his things.

"Give me like twenty minutes ok? And just stay on the line with me please? Can you do that for me?" 

"Yeah. I'm sorry." 

“There's nothing to be sorry for," Chan said softly.

————

In less than twenty minutes you heard a hurried knock on your door. Hanging up on your phone, you pulled yourself off of the couch and shuffled over to the entrance of your apartment, unlocking and pulling open the door to reveal your boyfriend's slightly panicked face.

“Hey…” he whispered gently when he saw you. You moved out of the way and he quickly stepped inside, setting down a bunch of bags before he turned back around and immediately enveloped you in his arms. The warmth of his body pressed against yours easily disarmed you, walls falling down so that all you could think about was his sturdy embrace. 

"I'm sorry,” you mumbled into his chest, trying to look at him. “I didn't mean to worry y-" 

"Hmm. Shush. No apologizing. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?" 

You nodded your head against him, silent as you slowly relaxed all the muscles in your body and let yourself really feel his warmth, feel all of the love radiating from his body into yours. He smelled like his shower gel, a hint of spearmint seeping into your lungs as your breathing began to slow and your eyes closed, whizzing thoughts in your head beginning to dissipate one by one. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his black sweater, holding on as if you never wanted to let go, and he let you - staying wrapped around you for an entire minute, just like he said. One of his hands stayed firmly wrapped around your waist while the other went up to start rubbing all the way from your head to the middle of your back, repeating the motion leisurely. You released a sigh of content as he did this, feeling yourself start to calm down, heart rate beginning to slow. Eventually he loosened his arms just enough to pull back a little and look at your tear-stained face.

"Let's sit down and I'll get you some food to eat hmm?" he said quietly, thumb wiping across your wet cheeks. You nodded, feeling a bit like a child as he lead you to your couch and wrapped a blanket around you before getting you some food from one of the bags he brought. When he came back you noticed his hair was a bit wet, presumably still drying from a shower he must have taken right before calling you, strands curling from the dampness. And as you looked down at the container of food he’d placed in your hands you realized it was your favorite meal from your favorite place. He even remembered how you always asked for extra sauce. 

Chan stayed silent as you slowly picked up your fork and began to eat, still sniffling a little. He easily found the remote to your tv, switching it on in a practiced familiarity, and put on one of your favorite movies, letting it play softly in the background before digging in to his own food.

When you’d both finished eating, he silently patted his lap, and you knew without any explanation that he was asking you to lean yourself back into his embrace. You did so shyly, Chan grabbing the blanket and draping it around the two of you before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you even closer. Finally you relaxed, leaning your head into the crook of his neck and turning slightly so that you could shamelessly wrap your arms around his middle, no longer even focusing on the tv at all. It felt so comforting to be in his arms that your eyes immediately began to close, his embrace luring you to sleep.

————

When you woke up it was dark outside. You blinked a couple times, shifting slightly before realizing that you were still completely wrapped up in Chan’s arms. To your embarrassment, you caught him peeking at you with the softest look on his face, your heart beating a little faster because you’d never been this close to him for so long before. 

“Better?” he asked you simply, thumb moving to rub against your elbow gently.

You opened your eyes a bit wider, immediately beginning to shift up on the couch.

“I’m sorry, I didn't realize how late it was," you said quickly instead of answering his question, feeling guilty as you shifted a little from his embrace. You’d essentially used him as your own personal pillow for who knows how many hours. “I didn’t mean to keep you here like that for so long,” you continued to ramble, but Chan only shook his head in response.

“Y/n. Hey - look at me,” Chan said with a soothing tone. You stopped your shuffling and did as he asked.

“Do you feel better?” he repeated his question from earlier, and you finally nodded a little before picking at the blanket on your lap.

“Yeah. I’m just sorry I wasted your time because of some dumb mood I was in," you responded, annoyed with yourself as you pushed your hair out of your face roughly.

“You know it’s not a crime to feel sad, right?” Chan started gently after a couple beats of silence, clearly trying to find the right words as his thumb continued to lightly rub against your skin. “Even if there isn’t a clear reason - that doesn’t make how you’re feeling any less real.”

“I guess.” You dismissed his words easily, clearly not taking them to heart.

"Why do you always do that?" he asked lightly.

"What do you mean?”

"Talk yourself down. Dismiss how you're feeling,” he elaborated, a little concern in his voice once again. “It makes me worry about you.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise before you looked off to the side. 

“I don’t know, I guess it’s just out of habit.”

Chan tapped your elbow, silently asking you to look at him again. 

"Can I tell you something?” he whispered into the quiet. You nodded curiously.

"I care about you - so much that it scares me sometimes,” he said earnestly, raking a hand through his hair. "You're so thoughtful, so kind, such an amazing listener - you make it so easy for me to be honest about how I'm feeling, and I've never felt more comfortable talking to anyone else,” he continued, looking down a little as he said that last part.

His words made you feel shy all over again, not expecting him to be so open with you. You willed yourself to keep looking at him.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that…I wanna make you feel safe too - safe to share how you’re feeling with me, the good and the bad. Because that’s how you make me feel.” 

“Chan…” you said, lightly smacking his arm in jest as you looked away from him, tears flooding your eyes for a different reason. But he just leaned forward and kissed your temple, pulling you back into his arms gently before continuing.

“Trust me, ok?” Chan asked as you nodded into his chest. “I want you to know that you can always share how you’re feeling with me - even if it’s sad or you don’t think it makes any sense - even if I can’t fix it for you - I’ll always at least be here to listen, I promise. Just don’t hide from me, yeah?”

Tears were falling from your eyes now - not because you were sad, but because Chan’s care for you felt so unconditional, so devoid of judgement - and you’d never known care like that from a partner before. You didn’t have any words to respond in that moment - all you knew was that you wished the two of you could stay on your couch, just like this, forever. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry again," Chan said, a little worried as he saw your expression. "Let me get you some t -”

But you leaned up and kissed him gently, cutting off his words. This wasn't your first kiss, but it was definitely the first that you had initiated. Usually you would just stare at his lips longingly or give the tiniest of hints until he finally caught on to what you wanted, but this time you couldn't hold yourself back. You just felt this boost of confidence, an unrelenting need to express a feeling that words couldn't define. 

Chan was shocked at first, but he quickly fell into it, closing his eyes and immediately wrapping his hands around your waist oh so gently as his lips began to move against yours slowly, lightly, with the utmost care. You each tilted your heads instinctively to opposite sides, still not coming up for any air as you maneuvered yourself back into his lap and brought a hand up to caress the side of his face before combing your fingers through his hair instead, a tiny noise of contentment leaving you in that moment. 

“Y/n…” he groaned softly against your smiling lips. 

"Hmmm?" you responded, still in a feeling of utter bliss. Your other hand was rubbing across his upper chest and shoulder soothingly, and you leaned in and kissed him again before he could even muster enough sense to respond, unable to stop yourself. Chan’s lips began moving against yours again, and he started to lean forward until your back was against a pillow on the couch and he was hovering over you completely. It felt as if he was trying to reach your heart with just the movements his warm, pillowy lips made against yours.

His thumbs started rubbing soothing circles into your waist and you felt like you were floating on a cloud, mind becoming hazy as your head became filled with thoughts of him and only him. He left three final pecks on your lips, finally mustering enough self control to pull back before things got even more heated. His hands slid from your waist all the way up to your cheeks, caressing them softly. 

You were smiling softly but genuinely, in complete bliss as he leaned in and kissed your forehead sweetly before finally saying, “I love you, you know?"

“I love you too,” you whispered quietly, just enough for him to hear. 

He rubbed his thumb near the corner of your lips, eyes crawling all over your face before he said a little regretfully, "I hate for this to end but I don't wanna keep you up any later than it already is."

“Then just stay over for the night. Please?" you begged a little bit and put a pout on your face. He immediately kissed it off of you and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"Are you sure?"

Neither of you had ever spent the night at each other's place, so it was completely new territory and you could tell he didn’t want to seem like he was taking advantage of the entire situation. You shifted up a little to kiss his forehead back.

“Chan, I want you to. I promise. Please?”

You meant every word. You wanted nothing more than to hold him all night long.

"Ok," he said quietly, grin growing on his face until you saw that cheeky smile you loved so dearly.

————

That night was one of the most peaceful you’d ever had in recent memory. Buried deep under your sheets, nestled under the stars, you curled yourself into his arms - so close that you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, slow and steady. And you fell asleep just like that - sweet dreams eventually melting away into the morning sun.