#wavy divider by cafekitsune

[mytholojin]

⌕ C I A N N A. she/her. 20s. ⌁ satoru's real gf

multifandom ◖ not spoiler free ◗ 　

status : perpetually tired !

[strawberrystepmom]

the one

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 10k

about: in the aftermath of incredible loss and pain and nearly losing satoru himself, a week long road trip on one of the most famous routes in the world solidifies what you've already known to be true about gojo - he is the one for you & you for him.

contents: nsfw - mdni. established relationship (reader and gojo are engaged), story told through vignettes, major spoilers for ch 220 and beyond although the story is not canon compliant (gojo dies and is revived), major character deaths and discussion of them, descriptions of anxiety, panic attacks, and dealing with trauma, discussions about marriage and engagement, mentions of blood and injury.

gojo has an identity crisis, reader is a teacher and is appointed interim principal of the Tokyo campus, lots of flowery descriptions of nature and of my beloved california (i am not a california girl but i have longed my whole life 2 be one), gojo is referred to as husband, sweetheart, and baby, reader is referred to as wife, angel, pretty, and baby, reader has breasts, small smut scene with sensual and romantic unprotected piv sex, mutual body worship, vaginal fingering, creampie.

notes: if you have made it to this point and still want to read, thank you. this is a love letter spritzed with parfums de marly delina sent directly to gojo satoru from me and i'm very proud of this work.

he's so important to me and i think exploring him when he can't hide behind the veneer of being strong anymore is one of the most worthwhile uses of my time since ever. i hope that you enjoy ♡

wavy divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!!!!

One week.

One measly, little week - 168 hours or seven unique opportunities to see the sun rise and set - is all you’re asking to be granted while promising all but your limbs and hypothetical first born child to the acting principal of both the Kyoto and Tokyo campuses following the deaths of both Yaga and Gakuganji.

Utahime’s arms are folded over her chest and her mouth is set in a firm line while taking everything that has happened over the last month into consideration. Do you guys even have time for a break of any kind? 

Time, as you and her have both learned since that fateful night in Shibuya, becomes more difficult to quantify when you feel it’s slipping away. Every day since October 31st has felt like something each of you have had to earn rather than been given by sheer act of existence. It has been a fight since the moment each of you stepped foot into the railway station and now that it’s over, things feel so undefined. 

What comes next now that the immediate evil is gone? There will always be another threat of danger that appears as soon as one is eliminated and all that’s left of the sorcery community learned the hard way that sometimes that evil proves difficult without the man who has worked tirelessly to keep all of you safe around.

“Please. He needs this so badly and I know if I don’t force him to stop, he won’t.”

Your plea causes her gaze to shift from downward to your face and Utahime’s distaste for the man in question all but disappears when she looks over the concerned furrow of your brow and the dark circles under your eyes. She watched Gojo being whisked away to return to the Tokyo campus, the place where the two of you are sitting and having this discussion, ripped to all but bits but still throwing his thumb up to confirm he’s okay to everyone’s mixed annoyance and amusement. 

Contemplating every aspect of the situation for a moment, she comes to the conclusion that this week is something both of you need and there’s no viable way for her to tell you no. Not when you look so desperate, hands shaking and eyes sunken. 

Despite the mess you will be leaving behind, building debris and rubble the mere surface of the ripples caused in your small community and wider society by Satoru’s defeat of Kenjaku and Sukuna both within days of each other, she feels there’s no other option but to reluctantly give in.

“Okay.”

The tone of her voice is so tentative you’re expecting a but as her very next word but she shuts her mouth with finality written across her face. Grateful, you bow your head and blink back tears but she walks toward you and grabs one of your hands. She squeezes it gently, reminding herself to avoid the spots you broke it in 7 weeks ago and you find the sudden change in her demeanor concerning. 

Did she change her mind? Is he going to have to go from half dead on a cold metal table right back into the swing of things? 

“When you get back, be ready because you’re in charge here.”

The news comes as a shock and she can tell, your eyes widening and hollowing further. Bile rises in your throat and you swallow, blinking additional tears back, ashamed that your weakness is what represents the strongest individuals you’ve ever met and not just the one who your heart belongs to.

Iori doesn’t stick around for long to watch you come to terms with your new position, simply squeezing your hand and patting it with the back of her other one, before dropping it to slink off to her students that stand on the opposite side of the lounge everyone is occupying. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you use the time to balance yourself and remember that you can deal with the upcoming challenges when you return. What’s most important is the here and now and there are a few things you’re currently sure of. 

First, Satoru is alive and breathing despite the terror you experienced when he was not. Second, you have at least one week to contemplate your own future and in true procrastinator form, you will wait until the last minute to even begin processing the weight of the responsibilities that have been placed on your shoulders. 

“He’s asking for you.”

Shoko’s approach is stealthy and you don’t notice her until she’s pulling a glove off beside you, the snap of the latex making you forget the tidy little list you were creating in your head. She doesn’t look any more morose than usual and you take it as a good sign, awkwardly nodding and keeping your head pointed toward the ground to avoid prying eyes. 

It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know about the two of you but there’s no plausible deniability anymore. No coy smiles and playing it off like it’s no big deal, not when there’s an engagement ring nestled safely in its box on your nightstand at home and when he’s asking for you as soon as he wakes up.

The room is eerily silent as you shuffle out of it beside one of your oldest friends and this is where she finally drapes an arm around your shoulder, stopping you and crowding you off to the side of the hallway. 

“He doesn’t look like himself right now,” she warns and you nod. You expected it, his energy depleted by the time both battles were won, but you still swallow thickly and struggle to get the lump in your throat down. Once she’s certain you are okay, she nods and keeps her arm around your shoulder until you reach the metal door to her domain that separates you and the love of your life.

“I’m going to give you two some privacy but if you need me you know where I’ll be.”

You’re sure she’s grateful for the reprieve, catching sight of her puffy eyes as she turns to walk away. You stop her and she smiles wordlessly, friends for long enough that the two of you know what the other is thinking. 

Thank you, I know, I’m glad he’s okay too.

Pushing the door open you hear an exaggerated groan and a watery giggle bubbles out of you. He just can’t help himself, one arm wrapped securely and safely and the other still oozing through its bandages. His torso is exposed and you can see the blow that killed him firsthand, an unnaturally precise cut across his lower abdomen. 

This is the sight that chokes you up and he chuckles weakly, unable to lift his head more than a few inches. He does look different, covered in scrapes and cuts and blood of uncertain origin, but he’s still himself. Those dimples still stick out against his pale skin when he smiles weakly at you and despite its pinkish hue, his white hair sticks up on end like it always does.

“No crying, baby.”

Sniffling, you look toward the cold tiles below and he tuts from the operating table. Holding his cleanly wrapped arm up he curls a finger toward himself to beckon you over.

“C‘mere.”

Slowly, you do. Each footstep feels as though you’re walking across cracking ice and it makes you cautious, scared that you’ve deluded yourself into believing that he’s here and he’s fine and things are going to be okay and in the midst of the angst, suddenly you remember - he is. 

He’s in front of you and breathing and you can’t stop the tears from falling when you reach the edge of the table, reaching to cup his face in your palms like you always do. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Another weak chuckle and he wraps his hand around one of your wrists, delicately holding it with his thumb and index finger. 

“Didn’t you say that about the prison realm too?”

Nodding and sniffling, you smile and he smiles back. It’s warm and inviting and all you can think about is how you feared you’d never see it again; that he’d become another loss forcing you to grow colder and colder until the inevitability of becoming a husk like the other sorcerers in your life would come true. 

“Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I need some new material.”

A chuckle that turns into a wince makes you coo and his half smile instantly turns smug, one corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk. 

“I have always been the funny one, haven’t I?”

Scoffing, you don’t playfully swat at him like you always do and he misses it. The gentle swipe of your fingers across his pec or shoulder or arm to let him know he has entertained you is something he will not take for granted from this day forward. His chest tightens and his loose grip around your wrist tightens.

It hasn’t registered quite yet that he almost never saw you again twice. That realization will come painfully when he’s struggling to sleep some night, wrapping himself around your body to be certain you will never leave his side, as all of his realizations about his own mortality do. 

Until then he’ll embrace the reality in front of him.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he whispers and you see a shadow of sadness cross his face, smirk drooping into a frown. Your palms on his skin leech warmth into his tired bones and he shifts his head to lean into one of your hands, eyes fluttering shut and staying that way until he musters enough humility to say what he wants to say to you the most.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s still the coward's way out but he’s simply too tired and weakened to go into the specifics of everything he’s sorry for. Is strength even worth it if you still managed to save so few people you care about? The weight of the world remains on his shoulders and you carefully lean over him, pressing your cheek to his and shifting your hands from his face to his shoulders. 

“Oh sweetheart,” it’s a nickname you rarely use for him and it makes his heart leap to hear it even when your voice cracks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Never to me.”

He wishes he agreed with you. 

“Well, I am and nothing like this will ever happen again.”

The unspoken truth between both of you is that he said the same thing when he was released from the prison realm weeks ago and yet, this happened.

“You can’t control everything, Satoru.” You lift your cheek from his and glance down at him to see his eyes half open. “Nothing that has happened is your fault.”

Something else he wishes he could agree with. He gives you a small smile and you lean to kiss his cheek, shutting your eyes tightly to keep from breaking into absolute hysterics. You’ve been teetering on the edge for days but you know this is not the time for your usual dramatics, it’s time to hold it together for him like he has done for you so many times.

“But we can and should talk about this more on our trip.”

His half open eyes shoot open and he looks at you with uncertainty etched in all of his pretty features. 

“Trip?”

Currently, he’s in no condition to go anywhere except for hopefully home with you tonight, but a few more hours with Shoko and his cursed energy slowly returning should be enough to get the process of healing going but he knows you know that and wonders what your angle is. 

“Road trip. Very little impact, all we have to do is fly to California and don’t worry, I’ll drive the whole time.”

He smiles and chuckles, reaching to capture your hand in his own and lift your palm to his mouth. Kissing you gently, he sits up a little more now that he’s feeling stronger and you lean on the side of the table.

“How long?”

“I had to practically beg for it but we both have a whole week off. The road trip will be 5 days and we’ll have two days to travel there and back.”

Summarizing the trip aloud makes it feel real despite you having done no work to make it so, eager to see him and how he’s doing before making any solid plans, but you can tell that he’s interested based solely by the look on his face. Still, you worry it’s too soon and too much after everything that has happened.

“Do you want to? We can always hold off and do it another time if you don’t feel up to it.”

He shakes his head and kisses your palm again, molding your fingers to the curve of his face so that he can be held by you for just a little while. Your touch may not heal him physically but it fills the gaps in his soul, the little pieces he has been torn into since October 31st, and he needs it more than he needs another session of energy granted to him from Shoko right now.

“I want to go as soon as we can. Especially if I get to look pretty in the passenger seat the entire time.”

It’s so beautiful to have him come back to you a bit at a time and your heart swells until you’re afraid it’ll burst when you look down at him. His eyes are shut again and his cheek fits perfectly in your palm, just as it always does. 

He lived and now he gets to have a week by your side with no responsibilities. If he weren’t so comforted by your presence right now, certain you are real and tangible and holding him to the best of your ability in his current condition, he would believe that he’s still dead.

“I should let Shoko get back to work,” you say finally and he whines. A little bit more of him comes back with each passing moment and emotion swells again, your eyes burning when they start to well up. 

“I love you,” he whispers and you lean down to kiss him for real, your soft lips hungrily pressing against his dry and split ones for the first time since he left you and came back. It’s familiar and it sends you over the edge, tears breeching your closed eyes and dripping onto his cheek. He laughs, although it’s a bit hollow, and you back your face away from his.

“I told you no crying.”

You laugh and lean in to steal another kiss, his arm wrapping around your body and cupping your hip. The kiss grows in intensity, although it’s more a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths more than it is an earnest makeout session, and his hand slides from your hip to your ass just as the metal door screeches open.

“Save that for when I send him home with you tonight.”

Heels clack across the tile floor and you peel yourself away from Satoru, who keeps his hand firmly cupping your ass, turning your head to see Shoko snapping on a pair of gloves and walking toward her patient. You shoot her a grateful smile and she nods her head, letting you lean in for one more kiss before reluctantly parting.

“Man I love her,” you hear him mutter to Shoko who laughs and shakes her head as you’re leaving. 

“Yeah, I know. You never shut up about it even when you’re half dead.”

DAY 1 - SAN FRANCISCO, CA

Your flight landed three hours ago, 9 hours passing far more quickly than you expected. Satoru held your hand the entire flight and you let him have the window seat, watching clouds obscure the light dancing over his face every time he'd shift his gaze toward the sky outside. Looking at him never gets old, even with a baseball cap pulled over his face to obscure his injuries despite how much they’ve improved since days ago. 

Disembarking and entering the airport felt like going through the motions and you realized while grabbing your luggage that it has felt like that all day. It feels like just going through the motions despite everything and your excitement for the next several days and guilt gnaws at you because of it. Shouldn’t you be living every day, minute, second as joyfully as possible given Satoru is alive and with you? Why do you still feel so bad?

The feeling remains a mystery while the two of you gradually make your way out of the airport and into the cool city lying outside, your rental car already picked up and the keys jingling in your hand as you unlock the door to load everything up. Gojo takes the duties over for you and you smile at him gratefully, heading to the driver’s seat to get settled in.

“You alright?”

He has asked you many times today how you’re doing and your answer has been a polite nod and a smile each time, maybe a muttered “yeah I’m alright” if he’s lucky, but he can tell something is bothering you. Chalking it up to travel anxiety, he slides into the passenger seat and finally takes his hat off, chucking it aside. You watch his wispy hair fall over his face, the dark bruise on his cheekbone finally looking lighter than it did when you left Tokyo this morning and you genuinely smile for the first time all day.

“Hello handsome.”

Satoru chuckles and you laugh along with him, eyes crinkling at the corners. You aren’t sure if it’s exhausted delirium making you feel better but you allow yourself to feel at ease for the first time in weeks, settling into your seat and starting the engine of the mid size SUV that will be your chariot for the next several days.

“Do you wanna go straight to the hotel or did you want to stop somewhere first?”

He hums, thinking, and his stomach growls which gives him his answer.

“Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

You nod, tipping your head toward his phone.

“Your pick. Find a place and I’ll get us there.”

Picking the device up, he smiles at the sight of your face next to his on the screen, matching grins as big as your faces. Hopefully there will be opportunities for more photos just like that one on this trip despite how worn both of you feel right now. 

Even smiling sounds exhausting at this point but he musters one for you, opening the app with a little map as its logo, searching for restaurants near the airport. He wrinkles his nose at the list of chain restaurants and settles on a deli that looks easy to get in and out of, disinterested in a sit down meal. 

He turns the phone in your direction.

“Sounds good?”

You hum affirmatively and press on the screen, a digital voice through the speaker giving you turn by turn directions. You’ve visited San Francisco before and so has he, just not together, and the two of you smile contentedly watching the city roll by and you’ve arrived before you know it, parking on the sidewalk outside of the entrance. He grabs the cap he dropped onto the floorboards and slips it over his head, the bill covering his bruised eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you don’t notice he’s glancing at you until you turn to look at him and his brow is furrowed in concern. You are wound as tightly as he’s ever seen you and he worries this entire trip and the pressure of it is stressing you out more than you already are, the opposite of the desired effect. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, angel?”

Nodding, you plaster on a quick smile and reach for the door handle. 

“I think I’m just tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept well.”

He understands not to push any further despite lingering concern and he opens his door, stepping out into the cool evening and sighing contentedly, stretching his long limbs out. Still a little stiff from his injuries, he waits on the sidewalk for you to round the car and join him and wiggles his arms and hands. 

“You look so cute when you do that,” you mutter with a smile. For a moment, his concern quiets down but your face falls so quickly it comes straight back. Coming to his side, you clutch his hand as if it’s an anchor keeping you sane and nod in the direction of the door. “After you, baby.”

Gladly, he pulls you along with him and the bell over the door dings. It’s a small space and while not packed wall to wall, it’s more crowded than you expected on a weekday evening and you take it in stride, the overhead lighting making your eyes burn after a day spent in mostly darkness. Satoru leans down and kisses the top of your head, inspecting the menu hanging from the ceiling, keeping his mouth pressed against your hair and humming. It’s comforting and you appreciate the gesture, he knows you well enough to be able to tell when you’re struggling, but you can’t focus on what’s happening with the pit in your stomach growing wider by the second.

This room full of people has no idea what either of you have just been through. The weeks of hell, watching the man you love so much you’re afraid it will be your downfall, die in front of you and return like Lazarus himself, your best friend’s death. 

Your hands start to shake and your mouth runs dry.

They have no idea your fiancé just killed the body of a man he loved dearly for the second time or that children he assisted raising both lost their lives in the process. These strangers will never know or understand what happened, their lives continuing as carelessly and freely as they always have, and a lump develops in your throat remembering the responsibilities waiting for you when you return home. 

Your life has changed forever and the world keeps turning, a notion that is suffocating.

It has been years since your last panic attack but you recognize the feeling immediately. The room shrinks and you laugh nervously, balling your fists. Satoru recognizes something is wrong and tries to grab your attention, quietly mouthing words you can’t make out. Shaking your head and blinking, you laugh again and he uses his grip on your hand to gently guide you toward the door. He keeps his steps short and soft to make sure you stay with him until the two of you are able to find a way to slip outside. 

Bending at the knees slightly to come face level with you, he cups your face with your free hand and knits his brows together. If you can't remember the last time you had a panic attack neither can he and he wracks his tired brain to figure out how to make this better. You aren’t asking him to, just for his support, but he has failed to keep you safe and happy so many times he can’t bear to let you fall victim to your own mind while he stands and breathes beside you.

“Come on, let’s get in the car.”

Nodding, you can’t fight the tears anymore and they start to flow freely, dripping down your face and onto the sidewalk below as you let go of his hand long enough to skulk to the driver’s seat of the SUV. Opening the door and sliding in, the door has barely shut by the time you sob aloud, gasping for air and lifting your shaking hands to your face. 

Satoru grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pulls your hands down from your cheeks gently, using his other hand to position your head until you’re facing him. Seeing you like this utterly rends him, his own throat tightening watching you struggle to breathe. Without thinking, he does what he would do for his students in this situation.

“Can you breathe for me?”

Despite how sobs make your shoulders shake, you nod and try to inhale deeply through your nose. It still doesn’t feel like enough air but you panic less once it reaches your lungs, exhaling through your mouth.

“Oh, baby.” He hates that this is the only thing he can think of to say. There has and never will be a point where he’s better at words of comfort than you are and it intimidates him how his blindspots only come to light when people need him the most. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Without thinking, you blurt out the news you wanted to tell him after you returned home. 

“They’re making me principal.”

His eyes widen and he starts to grin but it dims as soon as he sees more tears fall down your face, your sniffling filling the car.

“They picked the best person for the job,” he comforts and you shake your head, refusing to believe that it’s true.

“They picked the easiest scapegoat. They’re going to kill me just like they did Yaga.”

The people who killed Yaga have been permanently removed from their positions by two of your students, their deaths coming just before Satoru’s battle with Sukuna began, but you still worry about what comes next. The clans now hold all of the power and if they’re angry enough over what occurred, you’re the person who will be on the hook to deal with it all.

“No one is going to do that, I would never let them.”

You sniffle and look away, brows furrowed while tears drip into your lap.

“What if it isn’t your choice, Satoru?”

A dark thought consumes the usually easy going man, his stomach turning. Has your faith in him wavered? Do you think he wouldn’t cut down anyone who dared try to hurt or upset you? 

“Look at me?”

You do, just as you do any time he asks, and he sighs defeatedly. Now your hackles are raised because you’re worried about him, sniffling and reaching across the car for him. You clutch onto his t-shirt and he lets you, the fabric spilling between your fingers.

“I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again.” You’ve never seen him look so serious, no trace of humor to be found anywhere. No glimmer in his tired blue eyes, no upturned lip to reveal a dimple. You know he needs this confirmation and you nod, sniffling and pulling him closer to you with his shirt.

“Do you trust me?” You nod but it isn’t enough, his gaze still hardened. “I need you to say it.”

Swallowing to try and wet your dry mouth, you nod again and sniffle.

“I trust you with everything and I always will.” Another sniffle but you feel more normal, your breaths still coming quicker than usual but slowly steadying with each moment that passes. Keeping his shirt in your balled fists, you sigh and shake your head. “This isn’t about not trusting you, it’s about being afraid of what comes next.”

Now he understands. 

Your faith in him is unshakeable, something you have told him more times than you can count and meant every single one, but the future itself is terrifying. Nobody knows what is coming next, least of all you.

“I know but just like you always tell me, things will work out how they’re supposed to and if they don’t, I will kill anyone who is mean to you.”

Finally, this draws a watery laugh from you and he softens, posture slackening. His stomach growls again and you whine, upset that your own antics prevented him from doing what you two came here to do in the first place - eat.

“I’m sorry about this,” you mumble and he leans over the console to kiss your forehead. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’d rather get room service anyway.”

Sniffling again, you untangle your hands from his shirt and turn toward the wheel, positioning yourself to start driving again.

“Wanna go to the hotel then?”

He nods with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Do you want me to drive?”

You shake your head, face looking far less distraught than it did a few minutes ago, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Will you really kill anyone who is mean to me?”

He hums exaggeratedly to accompany an animated nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he squeezes your shoulder with his arm.

“I’m a nice guy, what can I say?”

DAY 3 - MONTEREY, CA TO BIG SUR, CA

The California coastline glimmers beneath the sun and although you’re driving, you keep sneaking glances toward the edge of the highway, eyes widening every time something beautiful comes into view. You may as well keep them wide open, constantly amazed by the world surrounding you even as it breezes past while you drive.

Day 2 went off without a hitch for the most part, no panic attacks or the like occurring, but you noticed this morning that Satoru seemed quiet. His usual exuberance has been missing from your conversations, instead dimmed down into something that feels like an imitation of the man. You understand this is part of the process of coming to terms with everything that happens but you feel guilty, as if your outburst is keeping him from feeling comfortable enough to be himself.

It could also have nothing to do with you but it’s easier to blame yourself than it is to think about anything else that could possibly be bothering him, your tendency to fall on your sword even worse when it comes to him. The devotion he gives you is returned in full, your natural instinct always to keep him happy and away from anything that could hurt him as unfair as it can be to do so. 

You can’t protect anyone from sorrow, it comes as naturally as the waves wash up on the shore below you, all you can do is witness it unfold and hope it doesn’t become a tsunami.

The two of you have been driving in comfortable silence for miles, occasionally oohing aloud at the cliff sides, but it has become less comfortable now that you’re thinking about how it has been like this all day. You try to think of something to talk about but come up short, focusing on the road, and he captures your attention when he speaks.

“I saw them, you know. When I died.”

You raise your eyebrows but don’t look at him, keeping your focus on the road.

“Did you?”

Satoru nods and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, carelessly sticking his hand out of the small crack in the unrolled window. It isn’t big enough to let the chilly winter air through but it’s just wide enough for him to feel the wind at 40 mph with his Infinity off. 

“Yup, they asked me about you. How you’re doing.”

He doesn’t have to say who he saw but you know, gut churning. It’s unlikely that Kento would ask, given you were one of the last people he saw before meeting his fate but Yu and - as painful as it is to even recall his name sometimes - Suguru would. 

“What’d you tell them?”

“The truth.”

Raising a brow, you focus on the road ahead of you and drum your fingertips idly against the sides of the steering wheel hoping he’ll elaborate on what the truth actually is. The silence sits heavier than you’d like it to and you open your mouth to end it but he beats you to the punch, head tipped back against the seat he’s sitting in. 

“Told them about us and that we’re going to get married.” You smile and he watches your cheek curve, mirroring it with one of his own that fades quickly while he continues speaking. “Told them you’re probably doing pretty badly because I failed to keep you safe. That you have been dead already.”

Shooting him a glance out of the corner of your eye, it’s hard to convey exactly how his words affect you while navigating a vehicle down an elevated single lane highway. 

Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to exist vulnerably. You’ve always been the wall between himself and the world, the place where he has allowed himself to soften and take down all airs, but now he wonders what it would be like if he extended that beyond just you. Other friends, what remains of his family, his students. He could never fully give himself to anyone the way he has to you but it’s something to consider while he spreads his fingers and lets the wind blow through them.

Does he deserve any of this?

He didn’t keep you safe. He didn’t keep Megumi or Tsumiki or Nobara safe. He failed, yet here he sits by your side, cold air chilling the tips of his fingers. In an instant, he feels nothing, turning his Infinity on wordlessly and keeping his gaze locked on the trees rushing by his window while you consider what to say to help him right now. 

“It has never been your responsibility to keep me safe, Satoru.”

He chuckles humorlessly and swallows so thickly you can hear it even with the sound of air entering the car through the cracked window. 

“For my entire life, my only purpose has been to keep people safe. If I can’t do that, what can I do?”

Glancing at the road, you spot the shoulder and decide to pull off to the side, parking and turning on your lights. Satoru has been wordless and still for longer than you’ve ever seen him and your heart breaks imagining how he must feel right now. 

The weight of the world is a heavy burden to carry and he has done it since before he could form full sentences, a fact you forget because he wears the responsibility as though it’s a cloak he can shrug off at any time, but you know that he takes it far more seriously inwardly. His life has been wrapped up in grooming him to be not simply a protector, but the protector, the gatekeeper of the insular society the two of you are a part of.

“Look at me?”

You ask just as he asked you to do two days ago and he does, the quarter turn of his head giving you an actual view of his face for the first time all day. He looks better than he did yesterday, scratches and bruises healing far faster than they would otherwise as he restores his energy. His eyes meet yours for a minute and you catch the shimmer that means his Infinity is turned on and you look away from him to compose yourself. 

His carefully crafted facade has shattered at his feet - he’ll always be The Strongest but his weakness was exposed in the form of bleeding out, severed through the middle, on a battlefield. What is he supposed to do now? 

Your eyes turn toward him once again and you sigh though it holds nothing but concern and you unbuckle your seatbelt to shift your body until you’re facing him, knees pressed against the center console. He half smiles and chuckles to himself seeing you move and get comfortable but it dies as quickly as it came, his head still pressed to the headrest while looking directly at you.

All you can do is help him pick up the pieces and figure out who he wants to be now that he has the ability to choose. 

“You know I don’t love you because you’re strong, right?”

He shrugs.

“I’m sure it probably helps.”

“No, Satoru. I love you because you make me laugh and cry and get angry sometimes. You let me be myself and never ask that I be anyone different even though I’m sure it would make your life easier if I were less stubborn and set in my ways.”

Getting choked up, you stop yourself and his eyes stop shimmering, Infinity off. He reaches across the center console and holds your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it and feeling the puckered wounds that are becoming eerily smooth scars. Swallowing, you blink and will yourself to keep it together until you get through what you have to say.

“I love you because you are courageous and that has nothing to do with your abilities, that’s who you are in your heart. You care so much despite how little you try to show it and your devotion goes deeper than the ocean and you are loyal and…”

Trailing off, searching for the words to sum up how you feel about him, he squeezes his hand and you see a peek of him in the soft smile on his face. Tipping his head to the side, he widens his eyes.

“You forgot handsome.”

Despite being near tears, you laugh and he feels warmer just listening to it and witnessing the grin he loves so much spreading across your face.

“You are the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on, even when you’re a little scraped up, don’t worry about that.”

Despite how difficult you have been to understand throughout various points in your decade long relationship with the man, he knows everything you’re saying is true or else you would not say it. You are too honest at times even if it’s sugarcoated to keep from hurting feelings but he knows you give him the most vulnerable form of yourself just as he does for you. 

He scrunches his nose and turns toward you, unbuckling so he can shift his body to face you. 

“Those sound like vows. Have you been practicing?”

Shrugging, you play his question off with a wry smile because he caught you. You still feel teary but blinking keeps any from coming and you idly play with his fingers and allow yourself to indulge in romance despite the heaviness still lingering between the two of you.

“Not necessarily practicing, just trying to figure out how to put how I feel about you into words because I don’t think the words I need exist.”

An arched brow is his response and you roll your eyes, tilting your chin toward the ground to hide your smile. He doesn’t want to coax anything additional out of you but the relief he feels knowing you still want to marry him despite everything that has happened is almost as comforting as the first breath he took waking back up after being healed enough to keep going by Shoko and Yuuta. 

He would be doing you both a disservice if he let you off the hook completely, though.

“So you still want to marry me?”

You scoff, lifting your head to look at him with a raised brow that mirrors the one he just gave you.

“Please. I’d marry you right now if you wanted.”

“Then do it.”

Opening your mouth to speak, you stop when the words won’t come, and he fills in the blanks for you.

“Let’s get married right now.”

“Satoru, we are in a car pulled off to the side of the road on one of the most famous highways in America.”

“So?”

At least his mood seems to have improved, the mischievous glimmer back in his eyes as he looks at where your hand and his take turns smoothing over each other. The two of you are always so sync even if you don’t realize it, seeking one another out like air, and you inhale sharply to keep from getting emotional once again.

“Okay. How do you wanna do it?”

He grins, shrugging.

“I guess we just say it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shoot at him despite the smile on your face and he leans across the center console to kiss you. It amazes you just how many different types of kisses this man can give you in the span of a few minutes, going from silly to sweet to sincere to sexy, but you’re grateful to be on the receiving end of each one. Your lips mold to his perfectly, no longer split and cracked the way they were a few days ago, and he pulls back from you with raised brows and meets your eyes.

“And you’re my wife.”

For as unceremonious as the event of apparently becoming his wife has been, you feel a rush of heat to your face when he says the word in reference to you and the way his gemstone eyes are gazing into yours tells you that he means it. You are his wife and as far as you’re concerned, just saying it is enough, you can worry about the rest later.

“Does that make you my husband?”

Smiling, he tips his head and leans forward to press his forehead against yours.

“I sure hope so.”

And so it begins, the rest of your trip as makeshift newlyweds, your heart pounding at the realization that this means forever. This is the commitment to one another you’ve both been anticipating and scared to make, you spent years running from him because you knew this was the only outcome, but with noses touching and two sets of eyes blinking at one another it has never been more apparent that you two were meant for this, for each other.

DAY 6 - MALIBU, CA - POINT DUME LOOKOUT

The final day of the trip has passed by at lightning speed, your flight leaving from LAX first thing in the morning. It feels correct that you’re spending your last few hours on some of the most beautiful soil on earth watching the sunset over the horizon in Malibu despite the cool air of the January day. The ocean glimmers and you can’t help but gasp in awe at what you see, feeling like a proverbial goddess staring at the open land below you.

“This is beautiful,” you mutter and Gojo joins your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He has a blanket and spare jacket tucked under the other, something to keep you both warm after the sun fully sets and the air grows colder.

“Almost as pretty as you.”

Rolling your eyes, you swat at his chest and suddenly every piece falls back into place. The past five days have been exactly what he needed to find himself, to return to who he is and who he wants to be, and it thrills him to think for even a moment that he may someday feel completely normal again. It won’t undo the things that have happened but it will help him make sense of them.

“Ouch,” he mutters playfully and you laugh, pulling the blanket out of the crook of his elbow and placing it on the ground below with a flourish and a shake of your hands. You instantly sink to the ground below, crossing your legs and sitting back with your hands bracing you. Satoru follows suit with an easy smile, sunglasses covering his eyes despite his facial injuries now being mostly gone. 

Sighing, you tip your head upward and let the sunlight warm it. 

Things are going to be okay, you tell yourself with an earnestness you couldn’t muster a week ago. This is exactly what you needed.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, contentedly watching seabirds drift by in the distance, but you sit up and turn to face Gojo, smiling wistfully watching the sunset on his features.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about lately?”

He hums at your question, nodding emphatically.

“Of course.”

Turning your face back toward the sunset, you recall a moment you have been thinking about since the moment it happened, the night he called you his soulmate. It was in the thick of an emotional evening after a long day, the two of you indulging in some pillow talk before falling asleep. It was so easy for him to say, as if he never assumed anything else could be true. 

“Years ago you told me you’ve always known it was going to be us and I brushed it off as you running your mouth,” Satoru fakes offense at your words but you smile wistfully, shaking your head and looking down toward your crossed thighs, the sun suddenly becoming too bright to keep gazing at. “But it’s not a coincidence it has ended up being us two, is it?”

You feel guilty for leaving out Shoko and Utahime and the other friends and students you have met along the way but he knows better than anyone what you mean. He smiles back and captures your hand in his, your palms pressed together while watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean, cold winter waves lapping at the jagged rocks below the cliff you sit on. 

“Add clairvoyance to my list of skills because I called it, didn’t I?” Humor mixed with unwavering honesty, one of the things you love the most about Satoru, peeks through his every word and you feel so full of love it’s hard to do anything but finally stare at him, eyes squinting thanks to the last bright remnants of daylight. “Even back when you thought I was nothing but a pest with freakishly long arms I knew it had to be you.”

Giggling, you think back to those days that were a practical lifetime ago. Time seemed like it was endless, stretching on and on forever in sundrenched days lounging in the courtyard grass at school, and you assumed you had endless amounts of it. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, it’s all the same when you know you have theoretically at least six more decades to live. 

You were reckless with your feelings and even more so with those of others back then, the man next to you a frequent recipient of annoyed eye rolls and scoffs. He knows he deserved them all even if he gives you a hard time about them now, his boyish determination to impress you gradually buffing away your edges until none remained. 

To the uninitiated, it may appear he tamed you, buffed and smoothed you into perfection equal to his own, but anyone who matters knows better. Satoru remade you, as being loved unconditionally does to anyone. He loved you when you were scowling and spitting and swiping, refusing his friendship and certainly his affections, and he loves you now with your palm pressed against his while you gently breathe in brisk ocean air wrapped in his coat.

“Thank you for never giving up on me.”

He pulls you closer, chin resting on top of your head as it always does. No response comes and you don’t need one, content to listen to the soft puffs of air leaving his nostrils that ruffle the top of your hair. Weeks ago, you weren’t certain you’d ever hear them again. Now though, the mix of the roaring waves and his breaths and his heartbeat pounding against your back catch you off guard and you start to cry, a tear trailing down your nose. 

“Don’t do that. No crying.”

Despite the tears, you laugh. It’s impossible to do anything but when he looks down at you with his head cocked, a little mocking pout on his lips. Leaning up, you kiss him gently and he hums into it, thumb reaching to swipe the stray tear off of your cheek. Leaning back from him, you sniffle.

“Just a little? You know how I am.”

He shakes his head. How can he ever deny you anything? You’re his life, his reason, his world. His one.

“Okay, a tear or two for my little crybaby but that’s it.”

Whatever tears were welling up dissipate quickly when you start laughing and it wows you how it seems like everything is truly back to normal. The two of you glancing at one another like lovesick teenagers, the same as you did ten years ago, the same as you will for the rest of your lives.

“You were right, you know. We are soulmates.” 

He grins.

“That’s not something I hear from you often but I’ll take it.”

DAY 7 - TOKYO, JP

The 9 hours back home felt far longer than the ones passing on the way there but after a blissful week and an easy flight, you are home and you are clean and you are comfortable in your own bed.

Spread across the mattress in nothing but a towel, you listen to Satoru hum from the adjoining bathroom while he brushes his teeth, running water mingling with a song that kept playing on the radio during your trip that has been stuck in his head for four days. Giggling, you wonder if he knows you can hear him or if he’s truly in his own little world.

“Turn the water off, it’s wasteful!”

You playfully shout into the bathroom and you hear the water cease but the humming continues. He’s well aware that you’re listening and it’s glorious to see even more of him come home - his happiness returning and stabilizing over the last few days. You worried at the beginning of your trip things would never be the same and they won’t, of course, the losses you’ve both suffered more than any one person should have to, but they will feel good again and already do.

Speaking of feeling good, your husband (who is very insistent that you call him this despite no legal documentation of your marriage existing) saunters into the room with a towel low slung on his hips and you can’t help but let your eyes roam over every part of him. His arms are no longer bruised and scuffed, back to their defined and pristine glory. The face you know every contour of is back to normal as well, nary a trace of anything happening in the first place, but curiously - he isn’t devoting any energy to heal the scars across his torso. Small silvery slashes and the big one where Sukuna split him into two remain visible.

Your mouth waters watching him dry the ends of his hair with a towel and it’s no longer satisfying to merely look, you need to feel; to touch every piece of him to ensure he’s still here despite having done it many times over the last several days. Every touch will be like this for the rest of your life, you think, making sure he’s whole and real and yours.

“Come here,” you nod and tilt your head, flipping from your back onto your stomach and swinging your legs in the air behind you. Gojo hums, raising his eyebrows and sliding onto the bed next to you, leaning onto his side and propping his head up with a hand.

“What can I do for you?”

You giggle almost girlishly, fluttering your lashes for no particular reason other than to let him know that he still has the ability to fluster you a decade together later. Tentatively, you reach toward him and trace your finger over the scar through the middle of his torso, the flesh smooth and pearlescent.

“Keeping that one?”

He shrugs, looking down to see your single finger become an entire palm pressed against his abdomen, your fingers tracing small paths across his abs and chest. The muscles beneath your hand tense with each touch and you pull yourself to your knees, crawling across the bed to kneel beside him.

“Maybe I’ll get rid of it eventually. I have the choice, you know?”

That he does and you nod, understanding. Your hand continues to travel over his chest, smoothing over each of his pecs and your core flutters excitedly when your hand travels from his upper torso to the lower portion, fingers sliding beneath the knot of his towel. 

He looks over your body, the way that your tits are pressed together and spilling over the towel secured over them, eyes trailing from your cleavage to your shoulder where a jagged and angry scar of your own sits. It’s from an attempt to dismember you in Shibuya, to cleave your arm straight from your shoulder, yet you don’t let the fact that it’s there bother you a bit. 

Satoru’s cock starts to harden under his towel merely looking at you and you smile watching it come to life beneath the cotton covering it, pushing him backward and flat onto his back so that you can straddle him. Discarding your towel, you drop it on the floor next to the bed and lean over him, chests pressed together while your knees rest on either side of his hips. 

“Hello there,” he teases and you laugh, leaning down to kiss him and bracing your forearms on either side of his head. There is no time wasted on gentle kisses, opting instead for the type that sear as you pant into his mouth and feel his bulge pressed against your bare cunt. You grind against him, the friction from the towel over his cock making you whimper, and one of his hands finds your hip to hold you steady while you make yourself feel good. 

“You like that, baby?”

Humming affirmatively to his question, you drag yourself across his covered length for only a moment more and choose instead to sit up, giving him a full view of all of you. This is a sight he has been blessed with more times than he could begin to count but every time it feels like a gift, your breasts swaying as you steady yourself. His hand slides from your hip to your waist and even higher, thumb and index finger pinching your nipple and making you tilt your head back and moan.

“To think I almost never saw this again,” he mutters to himself but you hear it, leaning forward enough that your face hovers above his. You kiss the side of his jaw and he groans, cock so hard the towel has shortened by several inches while it fights to sit against his stomach as gravity intends for it to.

Kissing further down his jaw and his neck, you rest your face in the crook of his neck for a moment and sigh dreamily. You're already soaked, ready to slip him inside of you at any moment.

“To think I never saw this again,” you repeat back to him and sit up, reaching behind you to unknot his towel and push it off of his hips, looking over your shoulder and groaning at his pretty pink tip resting against his belly, glossy with precum. You look down at him with a slight pout, leaning in to kiss him while running your hands over every inch of his body that you can.

“Look at you, Satoru. You’re so beautiful.”

He’s no stranger to your compliments but he flusters a bit anyway, chest turning pink as his face heats up. His white lashes flutter as he looks down at you, your mouth pressing kisses into his neck and warm chest. You scrape your teeth over his nipples and it makes him whine, bucking his hips and pressing his heavy cock against your pussy.

"Fuck baby," he mutters, hissing when you press your hips down against him, the wetness seeping from you coating your lips and his shaft in return, your hips gliding easily over him. Your mouth remains occupied, pressing kisses lower down his abdomen and over the scars he hasn't yet healed. It's your responsibility to remind him that every single piece of him is as lovable and stunning as ever and you take it seriously.

"I need you."

The rasp in his words makes you smile and you nod, ceasing your kissing and straightening your spine so that you can press your tits against his chest again. There is zero space between your bodies, just how you prefer it. He reaches for his cock and groans, wrapping his fingers around the base, abandoning it to brush his fingers over your wet cunt.

"All that for me," he marvels, two digits sinking into you with ease and you arch your back slightly, letting him spread you open while grinding your hips down against his pelvis, the direct contact of his body on your clit sending sparks through you.

"Just for you, handsome," you smirk against his neck and he crooks his fingers inside of you, brushing the spot he knows drives you wild. You moan and he pulls his fingers out of you, your cunt clenching in protest only for him to immediately replace them with the girth of his cock, your walls stretching to accommodate him.

"Feels so good," you whisper and he hums, hands coming to your hips to keep them steady while he thrusts upward into you slowly, sinking himself to the base methodically, shallow thrusts pulling him nearly out of you.

He's greedy though, undeniably addicted to the way you make him feel, and keeps enough of himself inside of you that you are unable to even begin to miss the way he feels. Your walls clench around him, keeping him secured inside and your hips grind lazily despite his grip on them.

The pleasure is mind numbing but you keep yourself alert, moaning softly while he throbs inside of you. More lazy thrusts met with slow and passionate grinding make you moan on unison, lips finding each other. Moaning into each others mouths, occasionally brushing tongues and kissing, you're overwhelmed with nothing but pure love knowing you have this to look forward to forever.

Forever sounds like a long time but you can't think of any better way to spend it than with your Satoru.

"You gonna cum baby?"

He asks and you nod, your walls gripping him tightly. His thrusts speed up, the sound of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The mind is a powerful tool and despite this being quite possibly the least active sex the two of you have ever had, you're so in love with him your body does what it does naturally and that's cum around his cock, clenching and pulsing to let him know how much all of you loves all of him.

"I love you," you babble against his mouth and he chuckles. "I know baby, I know."

Your hips still and you let him hold you in place, his back arched as he thrusts fully in and out of you, his own release slowly coming over him. His eyes flutter shut and he stays buried inside of you, ropes of his cum filling you and seeping out around the base of him, dripping down onto the towel below him.

You don't say a word, sinking into his chest while he softens inside of you. Talking feels unnecessary when your body itself says so much but the big mouth is back to normal so the blissful silence doesn't last for long.

"I love you too, by the way."

At least he's being sweet.

Giggling, you kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, clinging to him while he moves from your mouth to press kisses into your hairline.

"So," he starts and you look up, hovering off of his chest enough to look him in his eyes. "When are we telling everyone that we're married?"

"Let's make it legal first, yeah?"

He pouts but it is replaced quickly with a wry smile and you sink back down to rest against him, cheek pressed into his collarbone. The news surely won't come as a surprise to anyone but you want to make sure it's set in stone before letting everyone know.

"Let's go first thing in the morning."

His eagerness makes you laugh but you acquiesce, knowing there's no excuse to wait. You spent enough time fighting off the inevitable that for once, you're glad to just sit back and enjoy the ride, especially when you're enjoying it by Satoru's side.

[cheriiyaya]

Inside, this place is warm

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ well, someone has to take care of dazai when he gets caught in the rain...

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ Contents: Dazai x gn!reader, reader is a civilian and dazai is in the pm, softttttt, very fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, ~1.5k words

☾⋆⁺₊⋆A/N: oml this was longer than i expected...credits to @cafekitsune for the dividers >u< AND THANK U GUYS FOR 100 FOLLOWERS AHH

"Bella'! C'mooon!" Dazai called at you as he stood ankle-deep in the water, a childish grin plastered on his face. You sighed and drew his coat tighter over your shoulders as the salt-streaked wind whirled strands of hair into your flushed face.

"Osamu, you're gonna catch a cold, and it's gonna rain soon." You watched as the brunette pouted and walked over to you, water soaking the hem of his pant legs and the bandages over his ankles. Dazai grabbed one of your hands in both of his, placing it by his chest and looking at you with wide, adorable eyes.

"Pleaaase, bella'?" He grinned and kissed your knuckles, trying to sweet-talk you into the cold water of the Tokyo bay with him.

"Osamu-"

"Please?

"Dazai." He quickly shut up after that, releasing your hand and sulking away.

"My darling hates me now..." He pouted and sighed dramatically, which made you giggle at his theatrics. Dazai had snuck you out of your classes that day and ran you through the busy streets of Yokohama down to a small beach near the harbor, saying he wanted to "see your pretty face after so long" (You had told him it only had been a day, and dazai went on a rant about how many hours, minutes, and seconds that was away from you).

"I don't hate you, you'll just get sick if you keep this up." Rain began to trickle from grey clouds and it ran down the side of your cheek. Dazai leaned over and brushed the raindrops out of your face.

"Oh, but I don't think it'll be so bad if it meant you'd take care of me..." He teased, pulling you up to your feet and you yelped in surprise. Now on your feet, Dazai bent down and started untying your shoelaces, humming softly. "It'll be fun! Just for a bit, please?" You sighed at his unrelenting pleading, mussing your fingers through his wavy hair.

"Alright, but only for a bit!" You giggled, kicking your shoes to the side and dazai pulled you into the water. You shivered as the cold water licked at your ankles, wind plastering your hair to your drizzle-dampened face. You felt the wet sand dip and shift under your weight as you moved around and the water rippled from your and dazai's movement and the occasional drop of rain-rain that'd no doubt pick up soon from the looks of it.

you turned your torso around, looking at the endless distance that was the bay and then at dazai. with his cheeks flushed from the wind and his hair messier than usual he looked almost boyish to you and it settled something in your stomach seeing him so carefree like this. The rain picked up in intensity and began to soak the both of yours clothes. "Osamu, don't you think we should go?" You eyed his bandages, watching them soak and preparing a mental note to help him replace them later. Dazai sighed and looked at you, a coltish smile plastered on his face and he shrugged.

"mh, probably."

"Do you want your coat back?"

"And let my darling get soaked to the bones? Love, I'm not that cruel of a person!" He pulled you out the water and tightened his coat around you. grabbing onto your hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours. The rain was beating down on the both of you at this point, yet dazai didn't seem to mind getting wet; watching you laugh and blush at his teasing jokes warmed him enough.

The two of you stumbled through the streets as the rain picked up, heading to your house as your parents were gone for a week, and even if they weren't you were not about to allow dazai to go back to his shipping container all wet from the rain. As you reached your house your fumbled your cold fingers with the keys and pushed it into the lock, jammed it and turned it twice before it opened. You tentatively walked into the quiet, dark house and flicked on the lights, pulling dazai with you inside. You shrugged off his coat and flung it over a chaise, kicking off your shoes and dazai followed in suit. You tugged at his hand and smiled at him, brushing wet strands of hair out of his face.

"C'mon, lets get you dried off, m'kay?" You pulled him into the bathroom and patted the counter for him to sit on. You left for a moment a grabbed a hoodie that you thought might fit him and walked back in to see him slouched on the counter, kicking his feet and staring at the ceiling idly. With a small smile you threw the hoodie at him and he yelped suddenly.

"Bella'!" He whined, narrowing brown eyes at you and crossing his arms dramatically.

"Put it on, I'll get a towel and some fresh bandages." You left the bathroom again, rumaging around the house for bandages and towels. When you returned, dazai was now wearing the hoodie you brought him and it drew a smile from your face. "I was wearing your coat, now you're wearing my hoodie." Dazai perked up and grinned.

"It's yours? Bella', can I keep it?" You let out a soft, airy laugh and started to dry off his hair. Dazai simply hummed, bandaged fingers crawling up to tickle you at your waist as he buried his head into your stomach. You yelped and squirmed, dropping the towel and attempting to pry off his hands in between giggles.

"'S-samu!!" Dazai peeked up at you, a slight blush covering his cheeks at the sound of your giggles.

"You sound sooo cute when you laugh!" He poked your cheek, drawing you closer to him. You clicked your tongue and tugged his head away from your stomach, flicking his forehead and lightly scolding him to stop.

"If you'll stop, then you can have as many kisses you want." You teased, crouching down to pick up the towel and you placed it beside him on the counter. Looking at his arms, you tugged at your lip with your teeth. You knew how much Dazai hated people seeing under his bandages, and you weren't sure if he'd let you.

"...Osamu?"

"M'yeah?" You gently held up his arm, pushing up his sleeve to reveal wet bandages.

"Could I...?" You looked up at him, watching as he stared at you, then at his bandages for a moment.

Then, he relented with a slow, deliberate nod.

Your shoulders slumped as you let out a breath, carefully unwrapping the damp bandages off his arms, then the ones around his eye. It felt strange; seeing him without his bandages showed a completely different boy than you were used to seeing. You tried not to stare at the scars that covered his arms, fumbling with the clean bandage roll. You began to wrap his fingers, then his hands and you went up to his arm, fingers brushing against the pale, scarred skin that hadn't seen sunlight in years until you came.

Through all this, dazai watched you, brushing hair that had fallen into your eyes behind your ears. After a few painstaking moments, you finished wrapping his arms and eye and after making sure the bandages were in place, stepped back to watch the dark haired boy perched on the counter of your crammed bathroom. Reaching out and placing your hand on his jaw, you stroked behind his ear. dazai nuzzled his head against your hand, pretty eyes fluttering at you. You felt the vibration from his humming against the sensitive part of his jaw and he tilted his face, gently encircling your wrist and pressing open-mouthed kisses to your palm. You smiled softly, kissing his forehead and pulling him off the counter.

"There, you're all clean and dry." You brushed his bangs out of his eyes, pulling him out of the washroom and into the living room. You sat him down on the couch, leaning against him and allowing him to idly fidget with your hair. dazai peppered your head with kisses and you grasped onto his hand with your. The both of you simply sat there, comforting the other with your presence as the rain berated the ground outside.

"Darling?"

"Yes, osamu?" You felt him nuzzle his face into your neck.

"...Don't leave." What a sweet, yet foolish request. If you were to leave then a part of you would wander in search of him, in search for the piece of your heart that'd always belong to him and him alone. To dazai, you were everything; if love was a tragic ballad then he'd gladly star in it as the hopeless fool if it meant you were the one he was a fool for.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!

©Cheriiyaya 2023

[seokka0o]

───── Birthday Sex

변의주 - Euijoo | afab!Reader, unprotected sex

Euijoo isn't the type to ask too much of you. Your presence is always enough regardless of any situation, even on a day as special as his birthday he could not demand anything more than to be with you at all times, in your embrace, in your kiss, he is satisfied, to eat something nice and then watch some movie in your apartment, the kind of monotonous relationship that euijoo always spend and then get lost in the still of the night with him inside you.

You could tell it wasn't a planned action, but it was impossible, Euijoo keeps you tight in his lap, holding you like the most precious art, arms around your waist as he hugs you, face buried in your shoulder as he moans so slyly , the wine may have already gone to your head when he starts to bury his cock inside you, peacefully, your fingers in his wavy hair making a brief caress, everything inside you compressing to try to contain it, the air catching in your entire throat once euijoo hits you so well "joo...feels good" he can't say anything but whimper against your skin, clumsy, he's so immersive in this, you around him, welcoming him so well, just above riding like the tomorrow didn't exist, his body tense, lost, you couldn't find anything other than adorable, how he couldn't even contain his own instincts, hips bumping against each other in a way that was still so delicate and yet overwhelming.

When you both feel you are close to your limits is when everything starts to go numb, in this state euijoo just gives up on having you on his lap and is now between your legs, with you lying on the bed he is holding his offerings firmly, fucking with everything he has, you're submerging, your heat taking your entire furnace in an aggressive flame, euijoo was fantasizing, all your expressions, the way you touch your own body as he fucks you, how you hold on to every shred of pleasure , there is not a single moment where you are not the most beautiful and in that state he feels the end of him, moaning so slyly from the pain that consumed his entire being, he had this passability, he was gushing inside you, filling you completely while you reached your orgasm in the middle of this mess, calling for him in a way that made euijoo's skin crawl, he always loves it when you call for him even so desperately, that's when he's sure he's doing you good.

Dividers credit: @cafekitsune

[evaskjew]

"Everyone this is Loony Love... Luna Lovegood"

This drawing is a request from one of my friends who wanted me to draw her favourite character. Luna is a character I like (Ravenclaw 💙) and I really enjoyed drawing her!

My friend chose the model. I usually draw my portraits in A3 format but this one is A4. Luna's wavy blonde hair was the biggest challenge 😅

Now I'm hesitating between 2 Hogwarts Legacy characters to draw...

I can't decide which one to do first (knowing that I'll be drawing them soon).

The Sebastian drawing I did was for my sister and I'd love to do another one for myself.

(Divider credits to @cafekitsune )

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

six - kind regards, your broken heart

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I have a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

NOW:

Along with being a master at getting myself into life-threatening situations, I was also trained in boxing. Now that I’d fully recovered from the gunshot wound and partially from the attack a week ago, I was taking Olivia through another self-defence class. She’s a natural, if I do say so myself.

“Control the space, c’mon.” I encouraged, tapping her arm to keep her guard up. She began to assert more, making me chuckle breathlessly and nod. “That’s it, attagirl. Now, combo.” I held up my focus mittens, which she hit clean and sharp with a jab, cross punch, a vicious hook before twisting into a spinning hook kick. “Good job, tiger. Keep at it, don’t lose that momentum.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beau watching from the grill with a faint smile on his face, making me laughed and shake my head as I continued to work Olivia through the exercise. “Don’t tire on me now.” I encouraged, tapping her arms again to get her guard up. “Bob and weave.” I hook punched, forcing her to bend her knees and duck under my arm, my glove twisting so she could sharply hook punch it. “Good, good! C’mon, just a little more, then we can have a rest. Roundhouse.” I held up the pad, which she kicked perfectly with a satisfying, resounding smack. The action made Beau’s eyebrows raise slightly, impressed, as he watched Olivia and I, my attention solely on Liv.

His eyes trailed from my tied back wavy hair, my forearm brushing back sweaty, loose strands of my hair. Then they lingered on my determined blue eyes, which flashed almost icy white in the glow of the morning. Then came the dewy curvature of my button nose, a bead of sweat trickling down the freckled skin that was promptly wiped. Then came my pretty pink lips, my tongue darting out every now and then to wet them every now and then. A small huff of breath escaped his mouth as his emerald eyes traced the lines of my neck, lingering on a small, prominent freckle on the smooth, unmarked skin. Then came, like a punch to the gut, my slightly defined shoulders and arms, visible because of my tank top. To make things worse (or better), a hint of my bra strap was visible underneath as it shifted and moved along with my agile body. So his eyes wandered lower-

“You ok, there, Dad?” Emily’s taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, that’s it.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m doin’ fine.” Beau nodded, swallowing. “Just… fine.” He gave me a once over, clearing his throat.

Damn it, Sheriff. That’s your deputy, get it together.

I jogged over with a grin, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip from it, the cool water refreshing my lungs. “God, I needed that.” I groaned in satisfaction, rubbing my neck. I then exhaled happily, glancing between the two as I sensed something up. “Did I miss anything?”

“No.” Emily shook her head with an innocent smile. “Not at all.” I flicked my eyes between the two with a twinkle in them, a slight smile playing at my lips.

“A’ight.” I nodded, conceding with a chuckle, running a hand through my hair before rubbing the nape of my neck. I could try and crack the secret code between this father-daughter duo, or I could focus on more pressing matters that I didn’t want Liv to worry about. Such as Cal’s murder, which was confirmed when a body was found dragged into a lake, prints washed off. We still had del Marco in custody, but that told me that it wasn’t enough. We needed the phone. Lucy’s phone, which somebody took. I didn’t know who. “I’m gonna start working the case from the safety of the trailer.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea, darlin’?” Beau broached, corners of his eyes crinkling in concern. “You ain’t exactly in good shape to go after these God awful men.”

“At least I can go after them from a more desk-heavy standpoint.” I shrugged, grimacing as I thought of the night the guys attacked. “I’m just pissed. They could’ve gotten Olivia.” The thought of them laying their hands on Olivia made my blood boil. The things I’d do to them if they ever did come back for a second round, they’d make the Devil blush. And Lucifer probably doesn’t take these things with a heavy heart.

“We can’t go chargin’ like bulls that see red, Belle.” He chastised, folding his arms with a small huff. “You’ve been getting hurt nonstop, and I can’t see that again- I ain’t allowing it. Not anytime soon. As your friend and your sheriff? I suggest you stand down.”

“And I’m not inclined to slack off.” I frowned, copying his expression. “As long as those thugs are out there, my baby girl is in danger. And as long as she isn’t safe, I’m not happy. So I won’t rest until that group is taken down.”

Beau gave me a long and hard look, his tongue wetting his lips before he bit them in frustration, a look which I wasn’t a stranger to, but it seemed oddly more… magnetic… than usual. If that’s a way to describe it. “You’re not gonna listen, huh?”

“No, sir.”

He let out a huff of breath, looking to the sky as he contemplated what to do. Then he nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Alright. But… if there’s any chance that we need a tactical squad, which is pretty high, you stay at the back.”

I gave him a grin, knowing I’d won. It didn’t take long, since nobody was bothered to deal with my stubbornness. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

He just grumbled and looked away.

I was dropping off Tom to Harry’s house after picking up Liv from their date. I had mixed feelings about Tom, which didn’t feel rather fair, and as an officer of the law, fair judgement is mandatory. On one hand, Olivia seemed happy with him. Really happy. He was sweet (by what I’d heard from Olivia’s lovesick rambling), cared for her and was an all-around gentleman, even though Olivia was older by a few months. I could respect that much. But… he was Harry’s son. Adopted son, so thankfully the bad genes didn’t pass on, but still.

I could still remember the features of his, the ones I admired on a daily basis. The twinkling, charming green blue eyes, the winning smile, fluffy brown blonde hair, the deep, warm laugh that never failed to be contagious- the hell am I mixing Harry up with? Harry’s laugh sounded like the laugh of that grandpa from New York that Olivia showed me once on YouTube but ten times worse. And I can’t believe I found his Missouri accent even one attractive when it doesn’t compare to a Texas accent on a deep voice- where the hell is Texas coming from?!

I walked Tom up the steps to Harry’s house, which was quite literally the picture of picket fence perfection. Only thing missing from the meticulously mowed lawn, carved, painted white, wooden fence and the peach house paired with a red roof was a line of flowery bushes- oh wait, they have that too.

I could’ve had this. But I blew it, with me, myself and my workaholic disposition.

I swallowed, leading the sandy-haired teenager up the steps and knocking on the door to Harry’s house, the man himself opening the door and flashing the smile that always picked my spirits up, but I only got a weird feeling since my stomach sank at the same time this time around. “Harry.”

“Issy.” He moved aside so Tom could walk in, giving him a brief hug before turning back to me. His eyes looked me over, a look in his eye that I couldn’t place. “You look…”

“Horrible, I know.” I chuckled, looking away uncomfortably, a small, polite grin on my face as I tried my hardest not to burst and start yelling about how he ruined me. I half expected him to agree, but then I felt a pressure on my shoulder and found him smiling affectionately as the hand dropped to squeeze my bicep almost imperceptibly. The hell?

“I think you look beautiful.” Harry whispered, making my breath catch in my throat and bile almost shoot up from wherever it comes from. This man is-is married.

“R-Rhea!” I stammered way too loudly, plastering a patronising grin on my face as I shrugged his hand off. “How’s your wife?”

“She’s ok.” He nodded, looking somewhat dejected. I cleared my throat, stepping back to keep distance between him and I.

“That’s good.” Awkward silence, as expected when your married ex is hitting on you. “I have to go. Got work, cases to solve, all that.”

“I see.” He agreed quietly, and I turned on my heel, booking the hell out of there.

Beau hurried to Dewell and Hoyt’s office, where he found the trifecta- Jenny, Cassie and Denise. They all were looking at him with matching knowing glances which told him his game was up. But- hold on a second - what game was there in the first place? No game here, no siree. But there they were, Denise, Jenny and Cassie, all staring at him with looks that said ‘I know your secret’ but the secret was nonexistent, right?

“Emily told us.” Jenny grinned, spinning a pen in between her fingers as she snickered like a cartoon villain.

“How you checked Deputy Joyner out.” Cassie smirked, pumping her eyebrows. His face instantly flushed red; he hadn’t checked his deputy out. He was gauging her suitability to… get back on the job. That’s it. That’s right.

“Or Belle, as you call her.” Denise teased, filing her nails with the wrong side of the filer. “Is there somethin’ you’re not telling us, Bo-Bo?”

“I think y’all are insane.” Beau snorted, averting his eyes nervously. “Belle… and-and me? And I, grammatically speaking. No. Nah, she swore off men, remember? She swore off men. After Harry the ass, who is back in town, by the way, s-she doesn’t need any more men drama.”

“C’mon, I wanna see Jarlen happen.” Cassie pouted.

“Oh my god, Jarlen!” Jenny gasped, nodding frantically. “I was gonna call it Belleau.”

Denise grimaced in agreement, her head also bobbing up and down. “Jarlen works.”

“Jarlen it is.” Cassie smirked, staring straight into Beau’s soul. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for even thinking about his deputy that way. Though… it wouldn’t hurt, right?

It was true that he felt a bit… partial… to the momma bear, ass protecting beaut of a deputy, but he hadn’t been that obvious with it… unless he had.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.”

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile.

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

“You’re very welcome, young lady.” And with that, I took the glass of water with a grateful smile and sipped it as I padded down the stairs in my fuzzy socks. Beau was busy humming a tune and cooking some breakfast, which happened to be scrambled eggs. The moment he saw me, his demeanour instantly changed.

“Ay, ay, ay! Who let her out?” He frowned, pointing at me. Em, Carla and I instantly raised our hands, which forced Beau’s own to accept how I was now capable of walking. “A’ight, three against one, I see how it is. The ladies launching a coup- I see through all your plans.” He chuckled, dishing out the eggs. They didn’t look burnt, which was a plus, so I grabbed one plate and sat down with it. “Since you were on bed rest, Belle, we paused the investigation. The APB hasn’t found the guy who hurt you, but we’ll find him.”

“Yeah, I heard you reopened your sister’s murder investigation.” Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.

“No way, your sister was murdered?” She gasped, a wide smile on her face until Beau and Carla shot her a disapproving look, eyebrow raised and mouths set in a grimace. Damn, they’re good at the ‘look’.

“Em, let’s try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.”

“Your enthusiasm is completely warranted, sweetheart, murder can be cool, but let’s dial it down a little.” Beau added, clapping Emily on the shoulder on his way to sit down, and when he did, I felt a small nudge on my foot. I turned to Beau with a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a small smile that could only come before an-“Are you doin’ ok, darlin’?”

There it is.

“Just fine.” I smiled, nodding as I shoved a bite of omelette in my mouth. Beau and Carla looked at me expectantly, as if I was about to break down bleeding all of a sudden, but I shrugged, glancing between them. “I’m fine, you two. Trust me, I feel better already.” I got a call from Olivia, so I broke into a wide grin and answered it immediately, swallowing my chewed bite of omelette. “Hey, sweetie.”

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

Yeah, maybe he was a little too partial. But he couldn’t help it. Elle Joyner was… likeable, charming, funny, had the most beautiful eyes… he couldn’t help falling for her liking her as much as he did.

“Bo-Bo?” Denise’s lilt took him out of memory lane, matching smirks again on all three of their faces. “You’re a little spacy.”

Beau raised his eyebrows, trying to come up with an excuse but failing miserably.

That night, I was up late, working a case. I’d sent Olivia to bed after having the leftovers from the last takeout and a quick goodbye before she went to Dean’s. I flicked through the sheafs of paper, and I found a picture of Lucy and I. Lucy had a tattoo on her right wrist that made me sit up. I’d never seen her with it before, so it intrigued me more than it usually would.

045114.

The hell was that for? Just a random number?

I swept my hand down my mouth, biting my bottom lip before I shut the file, lying down in the bed Beau had made for me, pulling the covers up to my chin as I shut my eyes, already in my pyjamas. I scrolled on my phone, coming across a voicemail from… Harry. The moment I played it, the slurred syllables told me he had gotten into the beer.

‘Heya, Isa, just wanted t-to say, m’so in love w’ya. Can’t get enough o’ya. Just wanted you t’know. Especially since it’s been how long? A-Ah, three years. Can’t get o’er ya. C-Call me.’

I felt bad for Rhea.

I turned over in bed, too tired to even forward the voicemail to her and blindly putting the phone on the bedside table. My eyelids felt like anvils midair being pulled down by the cruel force of gravity, so I fell asleep soon after. However, that was short lived when I got up a few hours later, panting in what could only be the aftershocks of a nightmare. I rubbed my eyes, my hands travelling to my arms over the hoodie that Beau lent me. It went down to my mid-thigh, I was that small. I saw a wet spot appear on the chest area, and I swallowed, realising that my breath was shakier and more ragged than normal and my cheeks were tainted with tears. I instantly grabbed a tissue, wiping them. I didn’t want to ruin his hoodie any further with my angst that rivalled a teenager’s.

On the way out of the trailer, finding the still-burning fire, I took the photo of Lucy and I out, taken from the time we had been at her first wedding in Dean’s home town: Roseburg, Oregon. I sat down at a chair by the fire, the hoodie practically swallowing my body up in an attempt for warmth. Dean had his lips pressed to Lucy’s hair, his hands tickling her sides and making her let out a laugh that was too beautiful for this world. I was holding the bouquet like a trophy, since I’d caught it, but I, in fact, was not next.

My great aunt Bertha got married to her neighbourhood’s milkman, Samuel, before I could even score a date.

And then Dean and Lucy divorced due to work schedule problems, and Lucy found Mark. Not my favourite choice, but she still married someone. Here I was, yearning for someone at 40 years old who probably didn’t yearn for me back. I’m a mess of a human, aren’t I?

“Belle, darlin’?” Beau showed up at the door to his trailer, his hands desperately trying to smooth his blasted hedgehog hair while his eyes blearily took in the scene, concern bleeding onto his rugged features as he took a step forward, immediately sensing that I was deep in thought. “S’late, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head a’yours, hm?” He also deduced my half-assed attempt for warmth, so he whipped his coat off, tucking it around my shoulders before lunging to get a blanket that he placed over my legs. He then sat down next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulder that he used to draw me into his chest, his other large hand gripping my thigh slightly to move my legs in a more comfortable position. By instinct, my hand went over his heart.

Thump. Thump.

His heartbeat was oddly comforting.

“Mind tellin’ me what’s got my favourite deputy sporting a face like a wet weekend?” Beau asked softly, his fingers rubbing through my hair, teasing out any random knots, because of course there had to be imperfections in what could be a perfect moment.

His lips almost pressed against my hair, ghosting over for a moment before he decided against it, his cheek nuzzling the soft strands instead. I sighed, biting my lip. “I think the case is taking its toll on my sleep.” I replied quietly, rubbing my puffy red eye. “Had a nightmare that Olivia was kidnapped. And had a flashback of when Cal died. So many numbers…”

“What do you mean by that, sweet girl?” He proved further, his thumb tracing my cheekbone before sweeping down to line my jaw. The touches helped me relax and stop the panicking, which helped a lot with recall. My muscles relaxed, my breathing slowing down and telling my watch that I no longer needed to be recommended breathing exercises.

“Cal’s wrist on the crime scene. I saw numbers.” I frowned, pouting slightly. “541458. Can’t help but think they mean something. And one photo of Lucy had a six digit number tattooed on her. 045114.”

“They’re both connected?”

“Maybe. Just need to figure out how.”

“S’all well and good, but I think you need t’calm yourself down.” He took the courage to kiss my forehead, and paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction. I don’t know what came over me, but I nuzzled further into him, and I felt his chest, which sort of seemed tight, suddenly relax, a long breath escaping his mouth. “You’re always taking care of others, darlin’. Time for someone to take care o’ you.”

My first instinct was to protest. “But-”

“But nothin’. We’re gonna stay here, and when you’re calm, we’ll go back inside and I’m gonna stay with you. Then we can take a proper crack at del Marco. Got it?”

I deflated, nodding. “Yes, sir.” I giggled at the end, which earned a deep chuckle from him too.

“Deputy, you make me feel old sometimes.” We sat like that in silence, until Beau felt that I’d calmed down enough. He helped me up, tidying away the blanket and extinguishing the fire, switching on his phone torch so we had a light to help us walk. When we got to my bed, he gestured for me to lay down, probably as a ‘ladies first’, and I did. He got in next to me, making sure that the covers were snugly over me before drawing me closer, his arm around my waist protectively. My back facing his chest, his breath on the back of my neck.

It all felt so unfamiliar.

“G’night, Belle.”

“Night, Sheriff.”

The next morning, I woke up slowly, humming with a groggy smile, expecting to feel the warmth of Beau’s arm around me, acting as a shield against the rest of the world. But I didn’t. My eyelashes fluttered and my eyes opened, and instead I found us both at the far ends of the bed, turned away from each other. My stomach went hurtling down like it was a rollercoaster. I didn’t even know why. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact I’d gotten over the past few years. Maybe I’m touched starved. Yeah, that’s it.

I got out of bed, going into the bathroom to change into Lucy’s leather jacket, smiling at the nice burgundy colour. Underneath that was a black tank top and jeans, to complete the look. I strolled out, finding Beau also fully dressed, adjusting his hat as he turned around with a grin. “G’morning, Belle. Sleep ok?”

“Just peachy.” I nodded, not mentioning the swooping feeling I felt when I woke up and didn’t find him right next to me, the detail that I think he missed. But neither of us missed the brief sweep of our eyes down and up each other. “Let’s go.”

At the department, I walked into the interrogation room with Beau and Jenny, where del Campo was sat with a smug smirk. “Finally, you brought her here.” He gestured to me, his New York accent lilting. “I only got one thing to say. One thing only.”

“And what’s that?” Jenny asked, her expression stony.

“It better be good, otherwise you’re lookin’ at a lotta jail time there, buddy.” Beau seethed, while I remained silent, waiting for this guy to say something.

Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. “Markham Leeds sends his regards.”

My patience broke. My hand clenched into a fist. My thoughts clouded over and were replaced with waves of pure, seething red. My breathing became laboured as I processed the information, which only took the feeling to new heights. I scoffed, about to blow a fuse. Which I did. My fist slammed down onto the table hard, sending a loud and resounding bang through the room that made everyone jump. This was my final straw. I had him. I finally had him.

“MARKHAM, THAT BASTARD!”

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@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife @xxannyxx

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[cassieuncaged]

𝙊𝘾: 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝘽𝙚𝙡𝙡

Stardew Valley

𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𑁍

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎

𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 | Betty Bell

𝗮𝗴𝗲 | 23

𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 | Spring 21

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 | Female

𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 | Lesbian

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | rounded heart shape

𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿 | a mossy, deep green

𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | round

𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | full and pouty

𝗻𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | button

𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 | sensitive and freckled, pinkish in hue

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 | A wavy bob that sits atop her shoulders

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿 | golden blonde

𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 | comfortably curvy with some defined leg and arm muscles from farm work

𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 | Overalls, floral print everything, greens, yellows, oranges, sneakers, brown lace up work boots, mom jeans, flowy blouses, button ups, hair ribbons, flannel, flower stud earrings, etc.

𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀 | freckles across her most of her body. She's constantly in the sun

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹 | Betty is upbeat and takes even negatives in her life in stride. Though she saw her admin job at Joja to be rather aggravating and a dead end, she saw the paychecks as a way to support herself and a means to pursue her dreams. She is very kind and will greet every person and animal she comes across.

𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 |

𑁍 empathetic

𑁍 responsible

𑁍 genuine

𑁍 sensitive

𑁍 humble

𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 |

𑁍 gullible

𑁍 neurotic

𑁍 complacent

𑁍 sensitive

𑁍dependent

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 |

𑁍 farming

𑁍 reading

𑁍 horseback riding

𑁍 science

𑁍 flowers

𑁍 honey

𑁍 dogs

𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 |

𑁍 Lewis

𑁍 cruelty

𑁍 metropolitan life style

𑁍 cars

𑁍 alcohol

𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗯𝗶𝗲𝘀 |

𑁍 reading

𑁍 knitting

𑁍 horseback riding

𑁍 fishing

𑁍 making jam

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇

𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 | Other than struggling with some mild social anxiety, Betty is thriving mentally. Farming has helped a lot

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 | Is curvy with a soft belly and arms, but working on the farm keeps her healthy.

𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗮(𝘀) Ochlophobia - fear of crowds, claustrophobia - fear of small spaces

𝗵𝘆𝗴𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗲 | Bathes every day with homemade goat milk soap. Though she is often dusty and sweaty from her working in the dirt all day

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎

𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀 | Married to Maru

𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 | books, specifically collections of poetry and short stories. Preferably animal related or slice of life.

𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | has a bachelors degree in business

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻(𝘀) | working on the farm inherited from her grandfather

𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀 | None. She is an only child who is close with her parents.

𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝘀 | doesn't practice but believes in a higher power that definitely made the world so beautiful. Is likely to worship an earth related deity.

dividers by cafekitsune

[ashxketchum]

Sharing a TyHil snippet (that was originally supposed to be a collection of Mayblade 2023 prompts) for fun! This particular piece is far from over, I have at least three more scenes plotted out for this, but at the same time I think the current part is also very read-worthy so I'm just dropping it here until it's finished!

It's a sequel to a Rich GirlxPoor Boy AU oneshot I wrote earlier. So the premise you need to know is that Hilary is from a super duper rich family but she doesn't fit into her social circle very well. Tyson's mother runs a catering business and he often helps her out when she's understaffed, which is how the two end up meeting at a New Year's party. This snippet is based roughly 3 months after their first encounter.

Happy Reading!

[post divider by @/cafekitsune]

A typical birthday party in his circles involved a lot of dancing and eating, but here the guests were seated around tables in groups, reminding him more of a wedding reception. He figured the birthday girl was the one sitting at the table placed right at the centre, surrounded by a flock of other girls, presumably her friends. Of course, the girl in the centre was dressed the most glamorously out of everyone present, covered almost entirely in sequins. Even with all the shiny makeup on, she didn’t look younger than twenty to him and it put the whole changing the menu last minute thing into perspective, as Tyson was expecting it to be a little kid’s tantrum. No wonder Mariam’s mood had been soured. Quickly digging through the bowl of smooth gelato in his hands, he ran a bored eye across the rest of the hall, he’d expected to see more things he could make a mockery out of, but as far as rich people parties were concerned, this one was very conventional.

His brows furrowed when he watched the birthday girl receive a present from a newcomer, which she immediately handed over to a maid who was standing behind her to add onto the gift pile. The table that the gifts were arranged on was barely a few steps away from the girl and yet she couldn’t bother to get up and keep it herself. Privilege sure made people lazy, Tyson thought to himself, having licked the bowl clean from the gelato, he decided he’d had enough of watching the snoozefest. He’d make sure that his mother gave him written proof that she would pay him back for all the manual labour he did today and then head back to his dorm, maybe even think about preparing for an important match next week.

Just as he was about to turn his back to the view of the party, the maid behind the birthday girl moved yet again, this time farther than one table down, and a very familiar face came into view.

One that he’d been hoping to run into for a while now.

The bowl from his hand almost slipped as his eyes widened at the sight of the girl, the brunette he’d met while working for his mother on new year’s eve, three months ago.

Once he spotted her, it was hard for him to look away.

Unlike possibly every other girl in the room, she was the only one dressed in a plain top and skirt, which made her look more alluring between all the glitter and sequin that surrounded her. Her wavy brown hair was flowing freely behind her back, just a few strands falling loose in the front and framing her face perfectly. She wore a disinterested look on her face as she sat with one elbow resting on the table and another holding a glass of champagne still full to the brim, not bothering to speak to any of the other guests that were sharing the table with her.

But what made Tyson’s face break into a huge grin was the thick book that lay next to a plate with a half eaten cake slice on the table.

There was no doubt about it, she was the same girl Tyson had so boldly kissed at new year’s eve.

The memory of the kiss was etched into his minds for various reasons, but the one that ate away at him the most was how he should’ve apologised for his impulsive actions right away. That’s what one of his closest friends Rei, who was currently his mother’s number one sous chef, had given him a lecture about as soon as that party ended since he’d witnessed the whole thing go down. Rei had very cleverly pointed out that the girl could’ve raised a complaint against him, or even worse his mother’s company, which would not be good for their reputation in the business.

He’d sat and thought about his friend’s words carefully, and keeping in mind the girl’s shocked reaction, Tyson realised that he had indeed messed up pretty bad. But luckily for him as days and weeks passed without his mother every receiving a complaint from the hosts of the party, he felt relieved. He was still, however, concerned about finding the girl and apologizing to her. That was one of the reasons he found it hard to turn down his mother when she asked him to help with something she was working on this side of the town, a tiny hope igniting in his heart that he may just run into that girl again.

And while at the beginning of his day he had assumed that luck was not on his side, Tyson now understood that perhaps all of this had just been a grand scheme played by the forces of universe to get the two of them to reunite.

Having made up his mind, he quickly scanned the kitchen. His mother and Rei were very busy taste testing the main course and discussing improvements they could pull off before it needed to be served, Mariam was still busy taking into account all the dessert they had on hand and Mao was negotiating with the hotel staff about the broken cutlery. If Tyson was to slip out of the kitchen, now would be the perfect moment.

Positioning himself behind the door as he waited for the exact moment when one server would enter while another exited, Tyson looked over his clothes. Even if he did make it out of the kitchen unnoticed, he’d have trouble not being the odd one out since he wasn’t exactly dressed according to the theme. If Rei knew what he was doing, Tyson would surely get pulled aside and thrown out the back, but this was a risk he knew he needed to take today to not let this chance slip out of his hand. The consequences was something that he could deal with later.

Grabbing the perfect chance as the door opened, Tyson slipped in between the two servers, hiding behind the one heading out with the full tray and stepping into the event. A nervous excitement filled him as he made sure to not let himself get too far away from the guy he was using as a cover, and his mother’s employee did pass him a suspicious look but Tyson shrugged him off with a reassuring grin, motioning in the direction of the table where the girl was seated. The tall guy made an expression which clearly stated that he didn’t get paid enough to care about this as he took Tyson’s advice to move towards her table.

Tyson couldn’t completely avoid making eye-contact with a few guests who frowned at his appearance and whispered amongst themselves, but when the lights in the hall suddenly dimmed and the birthday girl took to the stage with a mic in her hand, he knew that he’d made the right decision by slipping out. The girl requested everyone to stand up for her performance, making it much easier for him to blend in, though he did not appreciate her grating voice blaring out of the speakers all around the room. The guests took their sweet time in getting up from their seats, but the birthday girl wouldn't be demotivated and she kept tapping her foot on the stage, refusing to start till everyone was standing up.

While his attention had been turned to the stage, the space around him became crowded as more and more people stood up and he lost sight of the server he had been following around. Cursing under his breath he widened his eyes as he searched the now dimly lit hall for the brunette, careful about not moving too much till his eyes adjusted to the dark lighting, He was able to spot her plain brown hair after a few minutes of searching and with a relieved yet nervous feeling in his chest, he made his way towards her just as the intro to a pop song begun to play.

The birthday girl began to sing, her loud and a little bit unpleasant voice filled the whole venue, drowning out any other sound that may serve as a relief to the audience’s ears. The only reason this made Tyson glad was because no one could hear the thumping of his heart as he neared the brunette, fists balled at his sides in an attempt to control his excitement. His plan was simple, he would tap on her shoulder, wait for her to recognise him before he apologised and then walk away. If things went well he might end up walking away with her number, if they didn’t she might call security to escort him out of this party he wasn’t invited to, either way Tyson felt he was playing a fair game. So when he arrived at the girl’s table, he just took one deep breath in preparation before he lightly tapped her shoulder, putting on his most confident smile as he watched her turn around in confusion.

To be honest, Tyson had expected her to take some time in recognising him since their encounter had happened almost three months ago. He was sure that she was the kind of girl who went to many such parties, who had a busy social life filled with new faces, who by now might even had made a boyfriend or two and had already forgotten all about the strange bartender who stole a kiss from her at new year’s eve.

But when she turned, startled by his sudden presence behind her, even in the dark her garnet eyes shined bright as they widened taking in his appearance. Her pink lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise and a cautious hand flew to cover her mouth as possibly the memory of their last meeting slipped into her mind. She tried to take a step back but bumped into the chair that she had been sitting in a while ago, deciding then to press herself against it as both hands clasped the chair’s top hilt tightly and her lips pursed together as fixed him with a look of dumbfounded surprise.

As grateful Tyson was for her being able to remember him right away, watching her reaction did make his heart flutter all the way to his throat and he had to swallow a loud gulp to keep himself from doing something stupid. The words for his apology had been on the tip of his tongue for days but now that the moment of truth was here, all his brain could think about was how pretty she looked in person and how his imagination over the last few months hadn’t done her looks any justice.

With the streak of luck he’d endured the whole day, of course in the next moment the birthday girl lost her breath a minute into the song and decided to end her performance abruptly, receiving a modest applause from the audience as the lights in the hall were suddenly switched back on.

A look of panic crossed both of their faces as they realised that now everyone on the brunette’s table and a few more people who sat around them were staring at Tyson with curious eyes, whispering among themselves wondering who he was and how he’d gotten in without following the glitter dress code for the party. Tyson tried to keep a calm expression on his face, he knew that if he got caught now it would hurt his mother’s business irreparably. He had to think of an escape route, if only he had thought about his plan more carefully and borrowed an apron and a tray from one of the servers, he would’ve saved himself the embarrassment of getting caught like this. Despite all of it, he was sure that if he could get just a few more minutes to canvas the area, he would be able to pull himself out of this mess just fine.

The girl, however, had different ideas.

He was almost impressed by how quickly she got over the panic of being seen with him, a complete stranger at this party, by people who were possibly her close friends. Her ruby eyes that had shined bright with surprise just a minute ago, now bore a triumphant sparkle as her lips curved up in a gloating smile. Tyson barely had any time to react as she reached forward and looped her arm with his and stood next to him with her shoulder pressed tightly against his arm.

“I told you guys he was just too busy to show up on time,” she said sweetly as she turned to face all of her friends. The birthday girl had stalked off the stage and joined the gang of onlookers, pushing her way to the front to get a better look at Tyson, since he had managed to steal the attention away from her for a few moments. The snivelling look on the birthday girl’s face didn’t seem to bother the brunette, her grip around Tyson’s arm only tightened as she spoke the next few words with such a vindicative tone that even he was ready to kneel down in front of her.

“I am so glad that I finally get to introduce my boyfriend in person to all of you.”

[newhope8]

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