#i really really want you to understand how much i love your works and how creative your ocs all are

[teaboot]

Hi! Do you use spray bottles for your cat? Mine misbehaves A LOT, but I'm really scared to discipline him, as I don't want him to lose trust with me.

Do you have any tips?

I do, but I’ve only had to use it a handful of times.

The first time, he was playing too rough, and I did all my usual signals to stop- made “ow” noises, disengaged, walked away, and repeatedly said “no, ouch” out loud. When he followed me and bit my foot, I grabbed the bottle and pointed it to him where he could see it and said “no” again in a low tone. When he bit me again, I sprayed him with a small amount of clean water.

For a little while, he wouldn’t go anywhere near the bottle. Then he’d inspect it, but run away if I touched it. Now I can carry it around, but if I say “no” to something, he usually listens.

He’s MUCH more reward-motivated though, so we’ve been working on command words instead- As of last night, he is now consistently responding to “down”, though I haven’t tried it while he’s worked up yet, so I don’t know how effective it will be next time he gets too rambunctious for me.

I think it helps that I talk to him a lot, and repeatedly use simple words with distinct sounds that he can differentiate.

When he’s too close to something that could hurt him, I say “Danger” or “hot” or “hot, danger”- “Danger” is for an AREA that could hurt him that he should stay away from, and “Hot” is for an OBJECT. He likes to ignore these sometimes but it still slows him down so I can grab him.

When he’s purring or cuddling or listened very well, and when he’s eating dinner, I tell him “Good boy”, “Good”, “Good Ollie”, and “I love you”. I want these words to be positive associations I can bring up later when he’s distressed.

Command words he consistently responds to right now are “Come”, “Up”, “Down”, “Dinner”, “Paw”, and “Button”. (“Button” is the word I use to direct him to his “talking” button- they say words he understands so he can say them back to me, but the only one he knows right now is the “treat” request.)

I’ve never really trained an animal before but it’s been really fascinating learning how he thinks and communicates! It’s a lot of subtle body language that I wasn’t expecting, but it’s really rewarding when I’m cooking in the kitchen or whatever and hear a noise or gesture I know, and understand that I’m about to have a Boy land on my shoulder or use my arm as a bridge.

He’s honestly such a clever little man!

I wish I’d spent more time listening to my other cats when I had them. It makes me seriously wonder if I’d have understood them just as well or if Ollie is just somewhat uniquely skilled.

I don’t know your cat and I’ve never had an education in animal training myself, but I’d see if you and your cat can find compromises! I can’t stop Ollie from biting entirely, but I can recognize boredom now, and ask him to be gentle when he chews my fingers, and while he LOVES crawling around my fridge he knows now that he only gets á treat when he doesn’t, and when I clean it out he can play a little in it when it’s empty!

[captain-huggy-bear]

"Please don't leave me like that ever again. It scared me." x clayton keller. maybe after a fight with reader?

Oh, this was angsty but I love me a man who loves you so much he worries for your safety even when you're probably fine. 1000 Followers Celly Finished Requests are currently closed while I work through current ones <3 Writing Masterlist

"Don't walk out, please, baby!" He's following you to the front door, you're not even dressed, pajamas on, slippers on your feet and keys in your hand. You don't even have your phone on you.

"Just leave me alone, Clay! I need to think!" You're not thinking rationally. Just angry, upset. You feel like you might cry and maybe it's silly, maybe it's stupid but all you'd ever asked of Clay was for him to communicate with you, to keep you in the loop.

"Baby..." He follows you out into the street, barefoot not even thinking about grabbing shoes. It's midnight and the last thing he wants is for you to be out alone, wandering around in your pajamas all because he didn't let you know he'd be home late, all because he'd strolled in at 10 minutes to midnight while you'd been waiting up for him...and he gets it. God, he gets it. He should have text you. He normally would have, he just got so caught up in drinking with the guys, playing a round of pool, that he forgot...and he knows that's not a good excuse.

"Leave me alone, Clay."

He stops in the street and watches you walk away...long enough for you to disappear around a corner, long enough for him to swear to himself, disappearing into the house for his keys and phone, shoving his feet into a pair of slides before rushing after you.

Except when he turns the corner you're not there, he can't see you at all. It's like you've disappeared completely, it sets a panic through Clayton. The sort of panic that has him feeling sick to the stomach, calling out your name even though he knows his neighbours are going to hate him, heck they might even call the cops, but he doesn't care.

He takes every logical turn, maybe you went down this street? You always pet the cat on that one and what about down here where Mrs Norris, the nice 93 year old you bring cookies, lives? By the time he circles back to the street your house is on he's sweating, panicked, so worried that he's about ready to phone the cops even though it's been at most an hour.

Except you're there, sat on the porch steps, head in your hands and it's like he physically deflates, shoulders dropping, all that fear, all that worry draining out of him.

"Fuck..." You look up when you hear him, standing, bottom lip shaking a little because you know you overreacted and you're sorry and even an hour away from him felt like crap.

Clay rushes to you like you've been gone years, hands cupping your face, forehead pressing into yours with an urgency that almost scares you because he seems so panicked, so different from his usual calm, collected self.

"Please don't leave me like that ever again. It scared me...fuck, I thought..." His nostrils flare, a deep breath in as he tries to calm himself down, trying not to clutch at you too hard. Your hands reach for his forearms, rubbing up and down in soothing motions, fingers gripping him as if to say 'i'm right here.'

"I'm okay, Clay..." He's practically shaking underneath your hands, adrenaline wearing off and for the first time you really understand just how much Clayton cares about you, loves you. For the first time you really understand that when he told you not to walk off, it wasn't because he wanted to keep arguing or because he wanted to control you, it was because he was worried something might happen...that he wanted you safe. You're almost certain he would have offered to leave the house instead, so long as you were safe inside it.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have text you I was going to be home late..." His fingers are almost urgent, petting back your hair, tracing over your skin, trying to reassure himself that you're there, you're real, you're okay. He can't explain it really, the way his stomach had dropped when he first realised he couldn't see you anymore, how that deep well of dread had formed inside him...

"It's okay...I'm sorry that I walked off, that I made you worry, I'm okay. I promise." You've both made mistakes tonight, done things you regret, done things in ways that should have been done differently. What remaining frustration you hold is gone, replaced by a deep, deep desire to comfort Clay.

"Fuck...sweet girl, I thought something had happened to you..."

"I'm okay...let's go inside, yeah?" You urge him towards the door as you take a step backwards, he follows like being parted from you is painful as you ease him closer to the house.

"Yeah...yeah."

In that moment you vow to never walk out into the middle of the night alone again because the sight of him like that is too much.

[whambamsami]

private show pt.2

summary: what happens in the private showroom, stays in the private showroom...stripper!bucky pt.2

pt. 1

warnings: 18+ language, alcohol, almost smut! i promise theyre gonna fuck like bunnies in the next part of this lmao

note: if this doesnt flow super well im sorry, i didnt proofread and i did rush it a bit! i also dont totally understand how tag lists work so forgive me if i messed that up too haha, small chance i delete this and try to make it a bit cleaner!

taglist!: @sebastians-love @marianastudiesart @bowscale @staley83 @opheliabbarnes @hhyukasworld @unicornqueen05 @defn0tonyourleft <3

If the bouncer noticed your nerves, he didn’t let on. He just pulled back the plush red curtain and waved you in. 

You stepped inside before you could decide against it. 

The door shuts with a soft click.

The room smells like leather and cologne. Dim lights flicker warm over plush velvet seating. Your heart’s pounding in your chest. And you’re frozen where you stand.

Because in the center of the room, the man you’d seen on the stage was leaning against a pole, shirtless now, glistening faintly in the warm, low light. One silver chain resting against his collarbone, made of the same metal that made up his left arm. Tattoos dotted his chest and abs, thin black ink delicately drawing your eyes lower. A dangerous smirk on his lips. 

Bucky, they had said his name was.

Wonder if that was his real name.

“Oh.” You breathed.

His smirk turned wolfish. 

“So you’re the girlfriend,” he said, voice low and deep as he stepped closer. “Didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“...And if I had said no?” 

“Then I guess I would have had to come out there and ask in person,” he said, eyes raking over you. “And that could’ve gotten messy.”

You sputter just for a second before catching yourself.

“I- yeah. Thanks for the rescue. I really appreciate it.”

He tilted his head. “The rescue?” 

“Yeah. Saved me from my asshole boyfriend and his gross friends. I owe you.”

That made him pause for a beat. Considering. Calculating. 

Then he’s back in control like nothing happened.

“Is that what you think this is?” he smiled gently, stepping even closer.

You blink. “Um. Yeah? You got me away from Nick and made him look like a jackass. Not exactly a hard thing to do, but still-credit where credit’s due.”

Bucky laughed-low and rough, like gravel wrapped in velvet. He had a nice laugh, you thought. 

“Sweetheart”- and you do a great job of showing how that nickname doesn’t affect you one bit, you’re sure of it- “I didn’t save you. I picked you.”

Your stomach did something traitorous as he popped the champagne, and you didn’t miss the evil glint in his eyes when the head of the bottle was swallowed by frothy foam before he could capture it with the flutes. 

He handed you a glass. 

You needed it. 

“What does that mean?” 

He leaned in, his voice dropping to something that wrapped around your spine like silk.

“It means I saw you sitting out there, looking like you were five seconds from either crying or setting the place on fire, and I figured you could use a reminder that not everyone in the room is a complete asshole.” 

Great. More pity. Just what you needed.

But then he continued.

“And I could see your thighs squeezing together when you saw me. All the way from up on the stage.”

You let out a soft breath, surprised at how much that hit you.

But he wasn’t done. 

“It also means,” he added, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, “I wasn’t gonna let some sweaty, insecure little prick keep looking at you like you were an object. Not when I know exactly how a woman should be treated, how you deserve to be treated.”

“Wow,” you breathe, almost to yourself, “you’re like… dangerously good at this.”

He grins. Like he had you right where he wanted you.

And suddenly the room around you felt like it was shrinking. You instinctively go to tug your dress down a bit, feeling overexposed. But he’s quicker, catching your hand in his own. 

“Don’t,” he murmurs, “you’re perfect like this.”

You should laugh it off. You should roll your eyes.

But you don’t.

Because the way he says it- like he means it-makes something deep inside you clench.

“I liked your show.” and it feels like a confession, like something you weren’t allowed to say out loud. 

“I know.” and you roll your eyes playfully before he cuts you off with, “So did your thighs.” 

You choke on your laugh.

“Confident, aren’t we?”

Bucky tilts his head a bit, and you can’t tell if he’s getting a better look at you or analyzing exactly where he needs to touch to make you weak.

“Don’t act shocked. You started it. Squeezing your thighs together while I was on stage? That’s flirting.”

“That’s called crossing my legs.”

“Cross them around my head next time, and we’ll call it even.”

You blink.

“Are you always this subtle?”

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “subtle gets you half the fun. You want subtle, go back to your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes. “Ex-boyfriend.”

He takes another step forward. Then another. Gently leads you to sit on the red couch, so soft it felt like you were being sucked into it. God, you didn’t even want to think about what this room would look like if you turned on a blacklight- 

He straddles your lap.

And you forget how to breathe.

His knees bracket your legs, not quite touching you. His hands rest on his own thighs, muscles flexing just slightly, forearms thick and inked. 

He’s shirtless. You were clever enough to have noticed that when you first entered, but now, up close, it was all-consuming.

The glow of the lights dances across his chest, down his stomach, and whatever oil he must have used on himself amplifies every divot of his toned body. He must have spent years eating clean and hitting the gym to get this kind of figure. Every inch of him screams control.

He looks like a god. 

“You ever had a dance like this?” he asks softly. 

You shake your head, sure that it’s the last move you’ll make before you become paralyzed forever. 

“Good,” his voice is raspy, like he’s almost whispering, “I want to be your first.”

He leans forward, lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

“And your favorite.”

Then he moves.

His hips roll slow and deep, grinding just above your center, close enough to feel the heat of him through your clothes. His hands rest on the couch on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.

“How do you want this to go, doll?” he murmured, voice low and sinful “You want me slow? Gentle?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He was close-too close. You could smell him. Feel the heat coming off his skin.

“Or…” His metal hand gripped the back of the couch behind your head. “You want me to show you what your asshole boyfriend never could?”

He doesn’t touch you. Not yet.

But he doesn’t need to.

Because the way he watches your reaction-how your lips part in a silent gasp-it’s like he’s memorizing you.

You exhaled shakily.

“That one.” you say before your brain can catch up to your mouth, “That one sounds- sounds good.”

“Good,” he coos, “let’s make your boyfriend nice and jealous. Show him how a woman like you deserves to be treated.”

“God, can we please not talk about my boyfriend right now?” you mutter, doing your best to keep your hands rooted at your sides like you’re cuffed there.

Not a bad idea. 

He chuckles wickedly above you.

“You’re right, pretty girl. Sweet little thing like you, and he’s taking you to a dirty place like this? Doesn’t he know what happens when you don’t take care of your things?” he coos, rolling his hips once more, closer this time, “Someone might take them away. Take better care of them. Someone like me.”

You hear a soft, pathetic whine pass your lips before you can stop yourself.

His mouth curls. 

“That’s my girl, let me hear it. Let me hear how much you want this.”

He’s licking up your neck, biting gently at your shoulder, sucking the sensitive spot where your neck and collarbone meet, nibbling at your earlobe.

“Bet he’s never touched you like this, doll. Never had you whining, begging for him, not like I do. And I haven’t even shown you my best moves.”

“What, the ones that require me to buy two drinks minimum?”

“Mmm. The ones I really want to try on you. The ones that might get me fired.”

Then he moved-really moved.

His hips were flush against yours. His abs brushed your chest as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your cheek. And then he finally brought his hips to yours.

Slow. Deep. Grinding down like he already knew exactly where you needed him most.

You gasped.

Your hands shot out on instinct, landing on his thighs, hard muscle under your palms. Just as quickly as you touched him, you pull away, internally cringing at your lack of control. 

“Sorry, I-”

“What are you sorry for, doll? Touch me all you want.” and he’s grabbing your hand in his, the vibranium arm still rooted behind your head. He brings your shaking fingers to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he gives your fingers a soft kiss, and then he’s dragging your hand down his chest, letting you feel every smooth valley and crevice of his delicious body, still rolling his hips into yours. 

Your fingers curled around his legs as he rocked into you again-slower, rougher, the friction making the growing heat between your legs grow more intense, drawing a gasp from you. 

“God, the sounds you’re making,” he growled, pressing his forehead to yours. “You ever been this wet with your clothes still on?”

“Jesus, Bucky-” and he’s back to his attack on your neck.

You’re gonna think about this later, aren’t you?” he said against your skin. “Gonna lie in bed and replay this in your head…fingers between your thighs… wishing it was me.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, rocking your hips up to meet his.

“There she is.”

You’re not even sure when it happens.

One second, Bucky’s hips are rolling slow and smooth against yours, his hands slipping beneath your dress in ways that definitely crossed some rules, his voice wrecking you in your ear.

“You feel that, baby?”, he rasps, “That’s all me. For you.”

You’re just about to cave, to beg for him to just take you right there.

Then the door slams open.

“What the fuck?”

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 5 // (8.5k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 5 | << Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

2 Years 8 Months

Tuna Kuna,

I feel like I’m finally starting to get settled in my new place. It’s interesting exploring downtown after being gone all these years. A lot of the old rundown warehouses are high end condos now and a lot more restaurants and bars have opened up.

I’m loving my place so far. It’s just a block from the riverfront park and trails. Great view of the mountains too. My parents thought I was crazy at first but you know how it is when someone has lived in the same area forever, they truly believe it’s armed and dangerous haha. 

There are a lot more young people around here too it seems. Since the university has grown in size, so has the young professional population. If I still live here when you get out, you’ll have to come sit on the balcony with me. It’s fun watching the trains go by, dogs running around in the park, and people watching to your hearts content. Maybe you can even grill us up some food, I’ve been cooking for myself for almost three years at this point, it’s your turn to come carry the load :P.

It’s about time Gojo started seeing his daughter! I understand not wanting her to come when she was a tiny baby, but the girl deserves to know and meet her dad. Just because he’s in jail doesn’t make him a horrible person. 

This might be random, but I met your cousin and his wife. She works at the university hospital with me and long story short, found out her husband is Choso! Small world��well more like small town problems ha! 

Speaking of, I’m loving the job so far. Being a physician's assistant in a rural area is definitely hard work, but it’s also rewarding considering there is such a shortage here. 

My parents also say hello. I ended up telling them about us. Well, not everything…but about how we got to know each other while I was here house sitting and now we write to each other and talk on the phone every now and then. They were surprisingly cool about it all. 

What have I eaten good this month? I’ve eaten my weight in barbecue since coming back home, drank my weight in sweet tea, and the cantaloupes are in season so I seem to perpetually have one cut up in the fridge. I feel bad talking about food to you but if it gives you good daydreams and thoughts, I’ll do it for you. 

Well, I guess that’s it for now, I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon!

Your dearest girl of the tomatoes,

PS how long are we going to keep this up? Been going on almost three years of this nickname, I promise I like other fruits and vegetables ha ha. 

Sukuna snickers, shaking his head as he reads the last line. He knows you don’t even like tomatoes that much, but it’s a cute nickname he doesn’t think he’ll ever let go anytime soon. 

“Giggling over there huh?” Gojo drawls, laying on his side on his metal frame of a bed, biting his cuticles, white hair pushed out of his face.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna hisses, reading through the letter for a second time. He tries to read them multiple times with the hope that each time he’ll get something different out of it. 

He loves reading about food. Prison food isn’t entirely awful, but it’s definitely not as good as shit on the outside. 

“So what’s new in your girl's life?” Gojo asks, getting up and stretching before approaching Sukuna in his bed.

“She moved back to our hometown. Got a job at the university hospital,” Sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off of the paper in his hand, eyes tracing the handwriting he’s become familiar with. It’s comforting in a way, noticing the unique way you draw certain letters, your little quirks evident in such a simple way. 

The juxtaposition of his heart is always surprising to him. While it feels so full continuing to hear from you, it also feels incredibly empty knowing he’s stuck in here unable to be with you during the various seasons of life. He knows he’ll be left behind when it comes to the outside world, but he hopes you’ll be patient with him when he gets out someday and show him the ropes of the modern world.

“It’s time cellmate,” Gojo stares down at him, mouth curling into a small smirk. 

Sukuna flicks his eyes up at him, his own lips returning a grin. 

“Alright, get ready to lose again,” he sits up, following Gojo to the steel table and chairs against the wall. 

Both men shed their shirts revealing their muscular forms. Since being in jail, Sukuna had put on more weight in the form of pure muscle. There wasn’t much else to do in here. 

Taking their places on opposite sides, Gojo claspes Sukuna’s hand in his as they get into an arm wrestling position. 

“Elbows stay on the table,” Gojo mutters, blue eyes piercing Sukuna’s crimson gaze as they size each other up.

“One.”

“Two”

“Three!”

They both start flexing, testing the other’s strength, trying to find a weak point. Going back and forth, their fingers dig into each other’s hands, elbows pressing down into the cold metal. 

“Looking nervous over there,” Sukuna chuckles, tongue sticking out in concentration. 

“I’d never be nervous over your dumb ass,” Gojo scoffs, doubling down to counter Sukuna’s advances. 

Eventually Sukuna slams Gojo’s hand down, claiming victory.  

“Weak ass, I’m still the strongest,” Sukuna jumps up, punching the air. His pink hair is a mess, a few strands sticking to his forehead from breaking a sweat. 

Gojo just laughs in response, leaning back in the chair, watching Sukuna take his victory lap. 

Sukuna remembers the letter on his bed, retrieving it to store on the shared shelf against the wall with the other letters. He saves every one, filing it by date with the others. He reads them almost every day, like a book he never gets tired of and knows by heart. 

The letters are his most valuable possession by far. They keep him semi sane and bring him more comfort than anything else ever could. 

A clang at the cell door startles him, he’d been so focused on carefully putting the new letter away he hadn’t noticed the guard unlocking the door.

“Sukuna, get over here,” the guard barks.

Sukuna sighs out loud, wondering what they could want. It wasn’t his allotted computer time for school, and he wasn’t expecting visitors.

He turns around, the practiced routine of getting cuffed like muscle memory at this point. 

“You’re getting transferred, I’m taking you to processing.”

“Holy shit what?” Sukuna says in surprise. This was certainly a twist. 

“Prison system is too crowded, we need to move folks around to make space,” the guard says shortly, tugging him out into the hallway.

Sukuna’s eyes lock onto his shelf of letters.

“My things, can I take them? I need those letters-“ 

“No, everything’s gonna be trashed. Can’t take shit out of here,” the gruff response has him reeling.

Panic shoots through him, causing him to lunge back without thinking.

“Inmate what the fuck you think you’re doing,” the guard yanks him back, throwing him to the ground, bare stomach pressed into the cold tile floor. 

“Those are special to me, please, I’ll do anything…” he trails off, feeling tears start to well up. He can’t lose the only evidence of your connection he has. Never did he expect a bunch of paper would hold so much meaning to him. He didn’t even know your new address, and you wouldn’t know his either. 

Panic begins to set in, throat feeling tighter and tighter as chills trickle down his spine. 

“Nothing I can do about it,” the guard drags him back up, not bothering to look at him as he shoves Sukuna forward.  

For the third time, he feels like he’s losing you all over again. 

***

Normally you’d expect to hear something from Sukuna after about a month, but eight weeks later you were still letter-less. 

He hadn’t called either, which while calls from him were rare, one normally seemed to roll in once a month or so.

Today was not that day though, so you finished drinking your morning coffee on the balcony of your apartment, soaking in the summer rays and feeling the humidity starting to burn out of the early morning air.

Your phone buzzed on the table next to you, seeing it was your group chat blowing up. Some of you were planning to meet up downtown to hang out in the park, so you were just going to walk from your place.

In typical small town fashion, everyone was more connected than you’d realized. Yuki, who was married to Choso, Sukuna’s cousin, was also childhood friends with Utahime, Gojo’s baby mama / girlfriend. Your old friend, Shoko, was also off this weekend so she would be joining you as well.  

Yuki was saying that Choso was likely also coming with his younger brother Yuji, so you were mentally preparing to interact with a crowd of people in a little while. You’d met Choso in the grocery when you and Sukuna had gone together, but he’d dipped from the drug business shortly after Sukuna’s arrest. He’d initially done it for some side money, so not as involved as Sukuna.

You didn’t mind the boys coming, you enjoyed hearing the stories of young Sukuna and it felt good to be connected to at least some of his family during this time. Even though you had no relationship with his parents, the cousins were incredibly kind and welcomed you with open arms.

Little Yuji was just a ray of sunshine while Choso was more quiet and reserved. Sukuna existed somewhere in between, his goofy but intense personality a happy medium.

You sit in silence, distracted by a dog chasing a frisbee across the park, catching it after a graceful jump and trotting back to its owner. The owner rubs the dog's sides and praises it before tossing the disc across the grass again. 

Cute, you think to yourself, impressed with the way the dog always drops the toy at the man’s feet. After a few more rounds, you retreat back inside, cleaning up the counter before hopping in the shower. 

The hot water washes over you, relishing in the sting it brings. Your mind wanders to Sukuna again, racing as it turns over every stone, unearthing unfavorable scenarios as to why he isn’t responding.

Did he get hurt?

Did he get tired of doing this with you?

Was there someone else this whole time?

The possibilities just get more and more ridiculous as you let the water pour down your face. 

He seems so invested in this. Literally three years have passed at this point, why would he still be talking to you all this time if there were others? He didn’t seem like that type considering he was head over heels for you.

He was a drug dealer though, surely that type had girls fawning all over them. 

Especially Sukuna. He’s so good looking and just exudes an air of confidence that would draw in women like a moth to light. 

You shake your head, attempting to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts. He’s given you no reason to think this way, why was your brain self sabotaging you at this point? 

Try to give yourself some grace, you remember that line one of your friends had dropped on you on a particularly tough night. 

Nothing about any of this is normal, you’re waiting for a man who would go to the ends of the earth for you. Prematurely ripped away from you when you both were wide eyed and hopeful about the world you were about to mold.

Now that scene you’d begun to paint looks nothing like it initially was intended, but the same two subjects were still within the frame, just on opposite ends of the parchment.

Holding onto that same hope that started it all. 

You haven’t cried in a while, but right now a moment of weakness seems to have overpowered you. There’s no point in fighting it, clearly your body is trying to release some of the tension that inevitably builds up over time as this isn’t your first rodeo breaking down in the shower.

What if you both get out and you are different people? People who no longer are interested in the other. All this time wasted like the water swirling down your drain. 

You’re putting so much faith in promises that will have been made ten years ago when it’s all said and done. The world can look entirely different by then.

But the underlying makeup should remain the same. The sun will still rise and set, the ground below your feet will still be solid, down to the atomic level everything will be made up of these little balls of protons, neutrons, and electrons, and gravity will still anchor you to the earth. 

Surely if the foundation of the earth is constant, you could relearn anything because you’d have a firm jumping point.

Your bond can hopefully do the same. It’s all you can have faith in at this point; trusting in the plans and pacts you and Sukuna forged after becoming one together. 

That alone brings you hope, and for now, it’s enough. 

***

“There she is!” you hear Yuji call out from behind you. The sounds of thumping footsteps only confirms his arrival as he appears at your side, diving onto the outdoor blanket you are sitting on.

“What’s up buddy?” you laugh as he rolls into a chaotic crash landing at your feet. The boy is only about 8 years old and has the accompanying energy to match. 

“School is almost over for summer, I can't wait!” he announces, rolling onto his back to look at you upside down.

“Yuji don’t dive onto people!” Choso’s delayed command sounds as he appears in your peripheral with Yuki in tow.

“Oh my gosh can you believe how lame that potluck was at work yesterday?” she giggles as she joins you on the blanket.

“This is why potlucks are so stupid. Workplace is too cheap to just get us food, we still need to do the work ourselves,” you roll your eyes, remembering how there were essentially seven separate packages of grocery store cookies and hardly any real food.

A dessert spread more than a team lunch. 

“Did you talk to Uncle Kuna?” Yuji rolls onto his stomach, pink hair wild and unruly after thrashing about on the ground. 

The breath catches in your throat as you are reminded of the situation. 

“I haven’t sweetie,” you respond, trying to hide the rawness in your voice.

“Why not?”

You feel your face sag slightly, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not sure, maybe he’s just busy,” you shrug.

“He might not want to talk to you!”

“Yuji!!” Choso snaps, grabbing him by the arm to pull him up. “That’s not nice to say to people. Apologize.”

He gives you an apologetic look while Yuji mutters a sorry before dashing off to the playground adjacent to your group.

You just chuckle, “it’s really alright, he doesn’t understand.”

“Yeah well still, it’s not okay,” Yuki scoffs, shaking her head as he bounds away. “Can’t believe that brat is technically my brother in law. No filter on him.”

All three of you laugh, it was pretty wild having a brother in law almost twenty years younger than you. 

“So you really haven’t heard from him?” Choso probes, laying out their own blanket next to you.

“Yeah, it’s been almost two months at this point. I don’t want to worry, but I’m worrying,” you give an awkward giggle.

“I mean yeah that’s not like him,” Yuki agrees, pulling the cooler over. “Beer?” she opens the lid.

“Sure,” you reach in and grab one, cracking open the can and letting the cold liquid trickle down your throat. 

“I hope he’s okay. Hopefully didn’t get in a fight and fuck himself up or something…or fuck up someone else and get in trouble,” Choso adds, taking a long sip of his drink. 

“Hey sorry I’m late!” Utahime appears, dropping the rowdy snow haired toddler in her arms into your lap while she unfolds her chair. 

“Nooooo!” the little girl squirms, attempting to launch herself from your arms while you hold her hostage. 

“Hey. Enough,” her mother says sternly as you release her onto the blanket in front of you. Bold blue eyes just stare back at everyone before she becomes preoccupied with the toys Utahime drops out of the diaper bag.

“Hey mommy, hanging in there?” Yuki asks an exhausted looking Utahime.

“As best I can, she sighs. Being a single mom is not what I ever wanted. Your daddy really picked a good time to go get locked up!” she says to the toddler with a smirk, but you know there’s at least a little truth to it. 

“We were just talking about how she hasn’t heard from Sukuna in over two months,” Yuki says as she rolls a ball for little Akari to play with. 

“Oh, hmm, Gojo actually got transferred a few weeks ago, I wonder if the same thing happened to Sukuna? It took a little while for me to find out about Gojo, but not this long of course.” 

“I’m calling it, he got in a fight,” Choso says again.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Yuki argues back. “He hasn’t had any issues this entire time.”

“Yeah he’s never said anything about not getting along with the other inmates,” you follow up, repositioning yourself to better face everyone. 

“If he got transferred though, that’s a whole new group of people. You didn’t know him before, but he was a literal demon when he was younger. Always scuffling with people, drunk fights in college, and always getting into it when he was a street dealer. Once he became the top dog, it kinda stopped,” Choso explained to your surprise. This part of him had never really come up until now.

“Wow seriously?” you respond, taken aback at his words.

“Yeah. He never like, seriously hurt someone, and he’s seemed to largely grow out of it, but still. Scary guy when we were younger,” Choso leans back on his hands, looking up at you.

“He just was so charming and goofy when we hung out, I can’t imagine it,” you smile, imagining Sukuna with a black eye or two strutting around like hot shit.

“Oh yeah, he’s a great guy at the end of the day. He’d do anything for the people he cares about,” Yuki adds. “In high school Choso got into some shit and since he couldn’t get out of it on his own, Sukuna took out like three other guys on his own. Scared them so bad they never fucked with him again. Most of his fights were justified in my eyes.”

“Unless it was Gojo,” Utahime laughs. “Those two fought all the fucking time. I don’t even think they knew why once they got older. Some kind of childhood rivalry that carried on and probably still does in jail. Could beat each other up and then the next day be best friends. Even in rival drug rings, there was some weird mutual respect between them. Honestly poetic they ended up cell mates.” 

This is what you loved about this group of friends. Everyone went so far back and had an entertaining history with each other. Plus hearing cringey Sukuna stories gave you teasing ammunition for when he got out. 

“Hun I’m sure he’s okay, he’s not an idiot. He knows he needs to behave to get out. I don’t think he’d intentionally jeopardize his future with you like that,” Utahime pats your shoulder in support, giving you an understanding smile.

“I hope so,” you answer, feeling a little better about everything.

“I’m sure of it. Gojo says he rambles on about you all the time. He’s got your letters all securely stored and sorted. Said he reads them all every day.”

You can’t tell if your heart wants to break or swell in response. It’s so sweet that he’s like that, but also makes you feel very sad for him. It must be so lonely in there, you just want to hug and comfort him.

If only he’d let you visit! Stubborn bastard.

The rest of the afternoon is a blast. Shoko eventually joins too after her shift. You are thankful for this support system you happened to find yourself in. It makes everything just a little easier.

***

3 Years

“Fuck, I’m so glad you picked up!” Sukuna’s voice on the other line makes you drop your phone in surprise. 

Four months. Four fucking months since you heard anything from him. 

“Sukuna!! Where have you been? I was so worried!” you sob into the phone once you get it out from under the kitchen table as it took an unlucky bounce. Thank god it didn’t hang up!

“Oh god, it’s a long story. I got transferred, and it took fucking forever to get processed out and into the new place. No phone time and I couldn’t remember your new address of course. Well then I get in there and immediately get jumped by some other inmates. Guess there is some serious hierarchy in this place and they like to intimate the newbies. 

“Unfortunately for them, I kinda laid them out. You see sweets, I can throw a punch or two.”

“So I heard from your cousin,” you snicker, Choso was right all along.

“Ugh, that dick. I’m not like that anymore. Well, except for now, fuck! Not what I meant… let me finish the story!” you can imagine him shaking his head in annoyance.

“Well they fucked me up too. I don’t look too hot unless you’re into that. So I got put into a solitary area more so for mine and their own protection. So once again, no phone or letter time,” he finishes with an exasperated sigh.

“Oh Sukuna, I'm sorry that happened to you. I’m so glad you’re okay though. I was worried sick!”

“Aw you were worried about me tomato girl?” he says in a playful tone.

“Course I was you idiot! I’m always worried about you. Can you just make sure to come back home in one piece?” you huff at him while sporting a huge smile. You don’t even care, just over the moon that he's okay.

“I’ll try, baby. Anything for you,” his velvety voice serenades your ears. You’d missed it so much, hearing it again has parts of your brain firing up that you swear have been dormant the last few months. 

“Good.” 

It’s all you can say, tears threatening to burst from your eyes from happiness.

“Are you crying?”

“Sh-shut up Sukuna!” you stutter, sniffling into the phone as you feel the screen get damp against your cheek. 

His playful laugh sounds from the other side.

“It’s okay baby. It really is. I promise-“

“I'm just so happy to hear your voice, you have no idea,” you force out, trying to regain your composure. You don’t want to waste these precious minutes crying. 

“Me too sweets. My knees practically buckled when you answered. God I miss you so much. It’s okay now though. There shouldn’t be any more fights or shit. They know I’m not gonna fuck with them as long as they leave me be.” 

“I’m glad.”

“How’s the move and new job been?” he changes the subject.

“It’s been going great actually. Pretty much settled at the new job and my new place feels just like home. I missed the slower pace of life here. And the kind people. I’m right where I need to be. Just waiting on you,” you answer him. 

“I know. A third of the way there. Think you can wait the rest of it out?”

“I do. My friends and family have been a godsend. Your family and Utahime as well. It feels less like I’m going through it alone.”

“Tch, you hanging out with Gojo’s girl is so fitting. She’s a good woman though sticking by him through all this. Honestly he is too. You’ll have to meet him when we get out.”

“I heard you all have quite the history,” you giggle.

“With that bastard? Absolutely. It’s all mutual though. I’m better though, in all ways,” he grumbles.

You both sit in silence, daring the other to speak first. Finally you cave, some of the insecurities from earlier rearing their ugly heads.

“Hey Sukuna?”

“Hmm?”

“What if you get out and we’re completely different people and it’s…not the same?” you tremble as you finish your question.

“Then I’ll just make you fall in love with me all over again,” he answers as if it’s the most obvious and simple response. 

“But what if it’s you who doesn’t want me?”

“Tch, impossible.”

“Sukuna! Be serious!” you whine.

“Sweetheart, I am being serious, it would take an act of god for me to stop loving you. Think about it, we only knew each other for a short time and I fell so hard so fast. I don’t fall in love. Never have, thought I never would. But I did, and I don’t regret it for a second.

“Over the past three years, I’ve only fallen more and more. It might seem weird to you considering I’m in jail, but with how you go out of your way to stay in touch and talk to me, how you stay by my side through the bad…so much bad, it means more than anything to me. I can’t wait to spoil you rotten and try to make it all up to you, to show you how you mean everything to me. I don’t think I could ever compare to the devotion you’ve exhibited over the years, but I’m gonna fuckin’ try.”

You have to sit down as the butterflies explode in your gut. Why you? Why was it you he allowed into his life and decided to love so fiercely? One day you’ll ask, but for now you’ll just have to trust him and believe in him, just like he’s believed in you all these years.

“I’ve gotta go in a minute,” Sukuna says after a pause. “I promise to be more in touch now. Still good to talk on Saturday mornings?”

“Yes, one hundred percent. I was worried I’d need to call a different inmate when I stopped hearing from you.”

He gives an amused huff in response.

“You better not!” he whines, “only allowed to talk to me.”

“You’re the only one I want to talk to anyways you goof,” you laugh. 

“Good. I love you tomato girl. Always.”

“I love you too Sukuna.”

*** 

3 Years 3 Months

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t more animated as Hiromi opens the car door for him. Maybe everything still just doesn’t seem real yet, the shock from the morning yet to wear off after being told he was being let out on parole. After mentally preparing himself to be locked up for ten years, having the rug pulled out from under him in the best possible way had rocked him to his core. 

He recalls how he was immediately processed and escorted to his lawyer who thankfully guided him into the parking lot as he was trapped in a state of disbelief.

Everything is overwhelming. The sounds of traffic and cars on the highway was foreign at this point and the wide open expanses of the rolling hills and farmland felt too exposed compared to being locked away in a low ceiling cell with one source of natural light and only one person to talk to all day. 

As they got closer to town, all the changes that happened while locked away were becoming too much to process. A new president, new buildings appearing all over, gas prices that made his eyes pop out of his head. 

Everything was so different, but he prayed that your love for him had remained unchanged. All these other things he could figure out, but you no longer wanted him, nothing else mattered. 

“Can you take me downtown? Jefferson street along the river,” he blurts out to Hiromi.

“Of course. Is that where she is now?”

“Yeah,” Sukuna replies simply, heart starting to race at the thought of seeing you.

The closer they got, the more he truly believed he’d have to ask his lawyer to pull the car over to puke all over the side of the road. Being forced into a life without you for ten years had been scary, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer terror that would follow as he prepares to show up unannounced to the woman he needs more than life itself, not knowing if she’d take him back.

“Want me to wait?”  Hiromi jars him from his thoughts, now parked next to an old brick warehouse fixed up into condos.

Is the damn lawyer thinking the same thing? That there’s a very real possibility of the life he’d built in his mind crumbling before his eyes?

“Nah, I got it,” Sukuna shoots Hiromi his trademark smirk before turning around and heading towards the lobby door.

***

It’s a paperwork day so that means working from home. You appreciate these times so you can get some chores done while you’re at it. Usually you can swing one day a week remote and it really has improved your quality of life.

Moving some clothes from the washer to the dryer, you glance up at the time. 

2 PM. 

Just about two more hours and you’ll be done for the day. You start the dryer, leaving the laundry basket next to the machine so you can collect everything and fold them later. 

Trudging back to the office, you sit down and stare out the window. At least it’s Friday, and with only two more charts to complete, you very much intend to drag out the day until the weekend. 

Just as you begin to start the next chart, your doorbell rings.

Weird, it’s not too common to have anyone coming to your door considering you live in a condo that opens to an interior building hallway. 

Sighing in annoyance, you leave the office and cross the living room, cracking the door to peer out into the hallway.

If you weren’t leaning against the brick wall next to you, you probably would have blacked out and fainted as your eyes reveal what is before you.

Messy pink hair. Tired crimson eyes. Tattoos wrapped around his wrists and painting his face and sharp jawline.

“What the fuck!?!” you shriek as you fling the door open the rest of the way, hearing it slam the wall.

You stand, frozen in the doorway, feeling about five different emotions at once as you try to process what stands before you. Your brain would just have to catch up later though because your legs propel you towards him as you launch yourself into his arms, hugging him as tight as you can. Even though he smells like some cheap, sterile shampoo, to you, it’s the best thing your nose has ever inhaled as you press your face into his toned chest. 

It means he’s here. With you. In the flesh. Why? You haven’t a clue.

Sukuna’s arms hover behind you as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real. Trying to make sure this is real. Everything he’d dreamed of right here in front of him. He’d walked up to your place, stomach in knots as he tried to prepare himself to face you for the first time in over three years. Would you actually want to see him? Was there the possibility of you living some double life he didn’t know about?

None of that seems to be the case though, and he finally cages you against him, arms wrapped around your back making you feel more secure and safe than you ever have.

All the emotion begins to well up into the form of tears on his shirt as the somatic response leaves your body. Sobbing against him, you twist your fingers into the back of his shirt as your knees become shaky. Sukuna must notice because he hauls you up off your feet and carries you through the doorway, kicking it shut behind him. Once inside, he leans back against the door, supporting your body while you just unleash all the pain from three years.

“H-h-how? Why? What the fuck is going on?” you choke out, finally starting up into the crimson eyes you only saw in your dreams.

“Why don’t we sit down before you hurt yourself,” Sukuna chuckles and that almost makes your legs feel like jello all over again. His laugh. Hearing it in person. It dislodges another piece of the grief inside and has you crying all over again.

“Sweetheart I hope these are tears of joy or happiness,” he lifts you into his arms once he realizes you can’t walk again. 

“Of course they are you idiot,” you rasp out as he lowers you both to your couch, cradling you against his chest before setting you gently next to him.

“I got released on parole this morning. I’m not a hundred percent in the clear, but I don’t need to go back to jail. I have to check in with a parole officer and have some conditions I need to live by for the rest of the sentence, but other than that, I’m out. I can start living my life again,” his smile only grows as he explains, as if finally believing it himself.

You just stare at him in disbelief, all your prayers answered and the evidence is sitting right in front of you. 

“I just can’t believe it. You’re here. We’re together again. Do you still want me? Like want to do this with me? Life together?” you start rambling out the thoughts as they come into your head.

“Course I do. That’s why I came to you first tomato girl,” he melts your heart with the boyish grin you never forgot about.

“I’m your first stop?”

“Mhmm. And my last.”

You launch yourself into his arms again, straddling his lap and studying his face closer as he wraps you up in his arms again. His thumb reaches up to swipe the tears off your cheeks, red eyes boring into your soul, briefly flicking down to your lips before darting back to meet your gaze.

Leaning in slowly, your noses brush, lips trembling as they brush against his. Your fingers run up through his hair, twisting into the fluffy pink locks, blinking in disbelief that he’s really here.

Soft, chaste kisses are shared between you both as you start to re-acquaint yourselves with each other. You feel incredibly nervous, like it's your first kiss all over again, so you pull back briefly so you can catch your breath since apparently you forgot to breathe through all of that.

His lidded eyes meet yours, grinning at you while you feel your face heat up.

“You okay?” he asks softly, tracing small circles on your back where his hands are resting.

“Yeah, I’m just so nervous for some reason,” you chuckle, noticing a slight blush creeping across his cheeks.

“I am too, but it’s okay. You don’t need to impress me. I’m the happiest man alive right now even though it's clumsy and out of sync. It’s with you, and that alone makes this the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“You’re gonna make me cry again Sukuna,” you force out. He’s being so sweet, but he’s right. Who the fuck cares, you’ll both figure it out together. You have a whole lifetime ahead of you.

“Well let’s practice again hmm?” Sukuna purrs, hand moving to cup your cheek and pull you in again. This time his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, making you gasp in surprise. You can feel the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as your tongue meets his, moving together in a clumsy dance as you re-familiarize yourself with how he tastes.

You giggle as your teeth accidentally clash with his, but that seems to loosen you up a little and you quickly forget about it, running your tongue along his gums and chasing his around his mouth. Finally finding a decent rhythm, your movements become more and more desperate, Sukuna’s grasp on your chin tightening as he deepens the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip.

Your hands start to wander, slipping under his shirt and grazing your fingertips over his rigid abs and chest, feeling every dip and ridge of his muscles as you feel him up. Sukuna groans into your mouth and you feel something hard twitch beneath you, instinctively grinding yourself against him. The pressure on your clothed clit makes you moan against his lips, feeling his hands moving to grip your hips to push you against his erection again, harder this time.

“Su-Sukunaaa,” you gasp, pulling back to glance down, his thick bulge prominent against his pants, you situated right on top of it. Your heart is pounding so fast you think it might burst, feeling the heat rush to your core.

“Hmm?” Sukuna leans back to look up at you, lidded eyes full of lust, “we can stop if you want baby.”

“Can we just…go somewhere else more comfortable? Not my living room,” you mutter, “I’m just not used to any of this. Feel like I’m going through my first time all over again,” you chuckle.

Sukuna’s lips curl into a grin, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Of course, your bedroom?”

You nod and he carries you down the hall, setting you down on your bed as he kicks his shoes off before joining you. Laying down your head on the pillows, you pull him back on top of you to kiss you again, hands trailing down to his waist and pulling his shirt up to his shoulders.

“Shirt off?” Sukuna asks, face hovering just above yours.

“Mhmm.”

Sukuna sits back on his heels, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor.

His body takes your breath away. He’s even more muscular than you remember, tattoos snaking down his torso to disappear into the waistband of his pants, the top of his boxers bunched up on his hips.

You can’t help yourself, sitting up to run your hands all over him, shamelessly feeling him up and tracing each trail of ink down his body, not yet brave enough to follow them lower.

“You’re so jacked holy shit,” you whine as you start to focus on his abs.

“Heh, not much to do in there besides endless pushups tomato girl,” he chuckles, eyes watching your hands, clearly enjoying your exploration.

“I wanna take my clothes off, but you’re just so fucking shredded I feel like I’m gonna look like a joke compared to you,” you smirk at him, fiddling nervously with your shirt.

“Baaaaby you’re the most beautiful woman to me. Look, I want you to be comfortable, but fuck I wanna see you. I promise I’m gonna love it,” Sukuna starts to get more of a feral look in his eye, voice a little whiny in anticipation.

“Okay, just like, don’t look okay?” you laugh, not even sure why that is going to help anything, he’s going to see the end result anyways. Standing up, you peel off your outer layers, leaving your bra and panties on.

Sukuna is behaving, looking away from you like you asked. It warms your heart, and that gives you the final push to just take off everything. It’ll be a nice surprise for him.

“You can look now,” you giggle, laying back down.

Sukuna turns around and disbelief hits his face as soon as he sees you.

“Oh my godddd, so fuckin’ sexy,” his eyes immediately focus on your tits. You reach for his hand and place it on your breast, watching the way his jaw tenses up as his eyes almost bug out of his head.

“Fuckkkkk baby. First woman I’ve seen naked in 3 fuckin’ years. Last one too. God I need to get my pants off or I think I might seriously bust all over myself. Well, still might, but all this pressure is killing me.”

You burst out laughing, sitting up to unbutton his pants while he gropes all over your tits, squeezing the plush flesh between his fingers and brushing his fingertips across your nipples.

Sukuna lets go of you momentarily to shimmy off his pants and boxers, finally freeing his cock from its confines, hanging heavy in front of you. You can’t help but swallow hard, no way you can take all that! Sure you have before, but that was when you weren’t coming off a 3 and a half year dry spell.

“Sukuna fuck! You’re so big!” you reach out to fondle his balls before wrapping your hand around his shaft, making his whole body jerk in response. “I fuckin’ want it though, but god you’re gonna kill me with that thing.”

Sukuna inhales sharply as you stroke his length, teeth digging into his lip as he watches your hand work him.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, shit baby, feels so gooooood,” Sukuna groans, thrusting up into your hand one time before gasping, ripping your hand away.

“Shit I’m gonna cum so fast whatever we do, I’m not gonna even be able to fuck you properly, I apologize in advance,” a deep flush spreads to his neck and chest as you notice his tip leaking with so much pre-cum, his whole cock is glistening and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Just finger me real quick Kuna, please, I need something at this point,” you moan, your cunt starting clench around nothing, desperate for some kind of relief.

He moves quickly, pushing you back down into the pillows as his hand caresses your inner thigh, inching closer to your needy pussy.

“So fucking beautiful, all for me,” he groans, brushing his knuckles against your soaking cunt.

“Baaaaby soooo wet already goddamn,” his husky voice says as he drags some of your slick up to your clit, rubbing tight circles against your bundle of nerves.

“Oh my godddd, Sukuna!” you squeal, everything so sensitive but experiencing pleasure like you haven’t in years. Your vibrators were good, but he was better.

Your eyes slam shut, writhing as he stimulates your clit. It’s pure bliss, finally able to be intimate with the man you love, touching you in the way you’ve craved. Then you feel it, a push at your entrance as his thick finger starts stretching out your walls, working you open with shallow thrusts.

“Ah, fuck!” you grimace at the brief moment of pain that quickly gives way to pleasure as his knuckles drag along your velvety walls.

“You okay?” he asks, thrusting slowly in and out, the clicking sounds indicating how wet you are each time he pushes back in.

“Yeah, just hurt at first. Do another,” you force out, the pleasure intensifying as you get used to the feeling.

Sukuna briefly pulls out, the loss of fullness making you needy. He’s quick to refill you though, the burning stretch returning as he pushes two fingers inside, making you grip his arm in pain. 

“Breathe, relax, you’re clenching me so hard, which I’d normally love, but it's hurting you,” Sukuna says gently, not going any deeper, watching you carefully.

You focus on your breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply a few times, trying to slacken the muscles in your pelvis.

“That’s better, keep doing that,” he purrs, talking you through it as he starts to thrust deeper, the pain soon subsiding. Every thrust of his fingers hits a new angle inside of you, probing for your sweet spot. Eventually, one spot has you moaning, arching your chest into his where he settled next to you.

“Hmm baby, right there? Like this?” he hums as he crooks his fingers up into your sweet spot, fingerfucking you at such a grueling pace that all you can do is whine and turn into a writhing mess beneath him. Your vision is seeing stars at this point as he pushes you towards your release. 

Sukuna leans down to pull a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud while his thumb pad presses against your clit.

“Sukuna! Ohh-oh my god, please, don’t stop, just like that! Fuck Sukuna!” you start babbling nonsense as the pool of desire deep within your cunt begins to ignite, causing you to shatter as the orgasm tears through your body. Your fingers rip through his hair as you arch into his face, cunt gushing onto his hand while clenching so hard, sucking his fingers in deeper.

“Oh fuckkkkk, yesss like that baby, god cum all over me. Fuckin’ perfect girl,” Sukuna’s deep voice just makes it all better as he makes sure you are stimulated through every second of your climax. Finally your body stills, feeling his fingers slip out, coated in your juices.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” Sukuna says with a pop as he pulls them out of his mouth, glancing down at your ruined state before leaning down to pepper your chest and neck with kisses, making you giggle as he finally finds your lips again.

“Mmm want you to fuck me Kuna,” you whine.

“Yeah? God baby I wanna fuck you too, been dreaming of the next time I could feel you clenching around me. How do you wanna do this? I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m not gonna last. Like I’m thinking bad bad, thirty seconds tops,” he gives you a boyish grin.

“Sukuna seriously?” you laugh, not sure if he’s just being dramatic or not.

“I’m dead serious sweetheart, thought i was going to when you were in my lap earlier. Probably even worse than my first time, I’m fighting love this time around too,” he laughs, kissing you on the nose.

“Aww, well I don’t care either way, just wanna feel close to you,” you smile back at him. “We have forever for you to work your stamina up again. Lots of practice in our future.”

“Damn right. How do you wanna do this?”

“Something with lots of skin on skin contact and intimacy,” you respond.

“Alright, missionary it is. Spread’em tomato girl,” Sukuna nudges your legs apart, “got a condom or anything?” 

“Uhhhh no, I have not slept with anyone since you, so I never bought any more” you chuckle.

“Hmph, good. I can pull out-”

“You and I both know you aren’t doing that, and quite frankly I don’t want you to. Fuckin’ fill me up and we can go get a plan b later,” you tease him.

“Girlllll you are….so right though, no way am I gonna fuck you for the first time in years and cum anywhere other than that perfect pussy,” Sukuna growls, lining himself up. He glances up at you one last time and after an approving nod, he pushes his thick cock inside of you.

“Ohhhh my god,” Sukuna collapses on top of you, trembling and shaking as he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you close while resting the other next to your head.

The stretch is intense but quickly subsides as his cock gets slicked up by your arousal. Your heart is so full of love for Sukuna, tears threatening to spill over.

“Look at me,” you pull his chin down, knowing he’s trying to screw his eyes shut to last. When you meet the reds of his eyes, they are full of the same adoration and love you know are in yours, eyes watering as his face contorts to fight back the tears.

Neither of you move, Sukuna bottomed out inside of you while you desperately try to keep yourself from clenching around him.

“I love you,” you whisper, his forehead pressed against yours, every inch of his skin pressed hot against you. It's the most intimate moment you’ve ever had where neither person is moving, but it isn’t needed. All the commitment and hard work you’ve both put in over the years at making this work, being there for each other, and pushing each other to be the best version of yourselves all while physically apart has culminated into this moment of working together one last time to prolong this feeling.

“I love you too. Can’t believe I-ah, I got so lucky to find you in this life. You waited for me, never gave up on me, fuck,” he groans, unable to finish sentence as you clench around him making him thrust once in response.

“Fuuuuuck, I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m-shit, fuck- gonna cum” he starts thrusting his cock into you, his thick tip dragging along your walls as he starts to throb inside of you. Slow and deep, his whole body is shaking as he whimpers just before feeling him spill his hot seed into your cunt.

“Ahhh - shit, I love you,” he moans your name as he pushes himself as deep as he can, cock pulsing as he pumps everything into you, filling you so much that you feel some trickling out down your thigh.

He collapses onto your chest, face buried in the crook of your neck as his breaths are hot on your skin. You run your fingers down his back, a loving caress as you trace the ink snaking down his muscles.

You’re not sure how long you stay like this, but eventually Sukuna sits up, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling out of you and moving to your side, pulling you up against his bare chest.

“I didn’t get to finish what I was saying when my dick rudely interrupted me,” he chuckles, “but thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m done with that life and I’m devoted to building this new one with you. I swear to god I’ll take care of you, you’ll be my equal, my partner, and my best friend and I’ll always put you first. You’ll never be alone again. 

“I love you so much Sukuna. I was ready to wait longer, but I’m never going to complain that you came back early, this is easily one of the best days of my life. I’ll never take for granted the special moments we share together.”

“I love you too. Let’s sleep, I’m so fucking happy that from now on I’ll be waking up to you for the rest of my life,” Sukuna says, positioning himself to spoon you, finally letting his tears silently fall into your hair.

One more Chapter and it will be a happy fluffy epilogue!

<< Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

Masterlist

taglist: @clp-84 @zeunys @aquaberrydolphin @nynxtea @yuujispinkhair @ssc7514 @sukubusss @scorpiosugar @kiixonmm @xlilycoco @nina-from-317

[hkkuugu]

𐙚 what was i made for? - b.e

꩜ billie eilish x fem!reader

꩜ type - angst (i love writing sad things 😛)

꩜ warnings - angst , homophobic family , religious trauma ig??, sh (not detailed) , mentions of suicide , fluff at the end because yaaaa 😪

꩜ note - tw at the start , this is basically the same thing what happened to me soo 😋

it all suddenly happened.

you didn't want it to but what could you do? you could lie and say it isn't true , but you can't afford to lie to your loving parents.

the look of disgust and shame covered their faces , what can you do to make it better?

"how do you think your family members will react to you being on of those?" of course all they cared about was how others would perceive them , never how you feel.

what were you made for? were you made just to disappoint everyone? what's the point of living if you only bring shame to everyone around you?

"i will raise no daughter of mine to be gay , repent and pray for forgiveness" your dad's anger shining over his face. forgiveness for what? just for loving differently?

tears streaming down your face , your parents screaming profanities at you. what's the point of anything? you can never get things right. you only bring disappointment to them not success.

"pack your things and leave , i will not let no person apart of that disgusting community live under my rooftop that me and your father worked hard for" your mother finalised , you snapped out of your thoughts and you were shocked to say the least.

did they really think that less of you? was it that easy for them kick someone out that they've raised for years with love just because of who they chose to love?

you had no where to go , you've been all alone your life. taking your anger out on your skin was all you could do , atleast it made you feel something

but there was one place you could go to. billie's place. but what if she doesn't let you in , what if she kicks you out as well. she could never though , she loves you too much , she would never treat you horribly like how your parents are doing right now

you packed your things into a bag you found randomly in the back of your wardrobe , tears streaming down your face yet trying to hold in your sobs , a couple of cries and sobs escaping from your mouth , thoughts running in your mind having no space to think about what to do next

as soon as your done you grab your phone and leave immediately, not wanting to see their faces and terrified to hear what they might they say to you. you make a run for it , wanting to be in the arms of your long-time lover. she knew how your parents were , how you had to keep her a secret from them. she was okay with it , she was understanding and was maybe the only person there for you

as soon as you see the door leading to her home , you knock immediately knowing her parents and brother are home as well. you didn't care though only wanting to sleep this off and hoping its a nightmare that felt very real.

"y/n what are you doing here is everything okay?" billie's mother maggie answered concered for your sudden appearance

"is billie home?" was the only thing you could say , your voice hoarse from all of the crying you did and your energy all spent having to run to their house

"she's just upstairs at her room she's probably awake by now , do you need anything my love?"

maggie was always nice to you , she treated you as if you were her own daughter , oh how you wish your parents looked at you as if you were the best thing ever for them , all you wanted was a normal family. but were you deserving of it?

you shook your head and headed upstairs to billie's room , her red led lights illuminating from her door , and loud music blasting from her room. that was your favourite thing about her , how she could be so bold and stront yet such a softie just for you

you knocked twice and made your way in , she noticed you straight away. your dark underbags obvious underneath your eyes and how your face swelled due to how much you've been crying

"come here my love what's wrong?" she asked with her arms wide open waiting for you to fall into her , and you did , you always did , you could never say no to her warm cozy cuddles.

"it's okay sweetheart take your time you don't have to tell me straight away" her warm fingers tracing shapes and words onto your back , comforting you. her cuddles always distracted you from whatever is going on with you, she always knows what to do when you're feeling down

after a couple of minutes of you and your lover cuddling in silence , hearing a couple of sniffles from you here and there. you finally found the confidence to tell her what happened

"they kicked me out as if i was nothing to them , as if it was that easy for them to leave me , i just want to be myself without having to hide myself why cant i be normal?" after pausing for a bit you felt your tears forming again

"awh baby im sorry that you feel that way , you deserve way better than how they're treating you, you deserve the whole world" she hugged you tighter than before , signaling to you that she will never ever leave you

"how about you turn on that favourite movie of yours and i'll get some snacks for us" she offered to you, you could never say no so you nodded, a small smile appeared on your face which showed her how much that small yet big offer meant to you

you grabbed the tv remote while she went downstairs to get snacks for the both of you, you turning on a cheesy rom com was always a go-to for you, it always seemed to atleast make your day better

she came back with a large bag of takis for the both of you, some of your favourite sweets and drinks for you to share. she placed them on the table next to her bed and settled into bed with you, causing you to immediately feel warm and safe next to her presence. you started the movie and cuddled in whilst eating the snacks , at this point the movie was just in the background the both of you not focused on it

she hugged you tighter and closer, to the point where her hoodie engulfing you and you could smell her sweet vanilla shampoo, her smell always comforted you for some odd reason. everything about her did

"i would never leave you my love , never in another life or this one. im always here for you.always" were the last words you heard from her before exhaustion took over you , the heavy weight of the day's events lifting little by little , as long as billie was there with you

despite you being asleep, billie was wide awake drawing shapes on your lower back underneath your hoodie. which was her hoodie but then you ended up claiming it as yours as it reminded you of her everytime you wore it

"i love you always" was what she said before sleep over took her

꩜ a/n - i seriously have no idea how to end fics sorry if this is absolute shit

꩜ taglist !! - @st0nerlesb0 @bilswifee @yellowjacketsslvt69 @bitchesbrokenpromises @dollarsbills @ohokaydawg @dousleepanymore

[changingplumbob]

One SBL post today. It's a long one so… grab a snack?

We landed in Windenburg around dinner time but I couldn’t eat. I was too nervous to see Melina. We had arranged to go to a local club to celebrate the album being released. I held her back as the others went in, taking the chance to talk to her.

Byron: You have no idea how much I missed you. How much I dreamed of hugging you

Melina: I missed you to Byron. Phone calls aren't the same

Byron: You have to know Meli... I love you

Melina: *smiles* I love you to

Byron: I really mean I love you. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I don’t want you out of my head. You said you couldn’t handle romance and school so I stayed back but we’ve both finished now. I want you in my life

I moved to kiss her but she stopped me, tears pricking in her eyes.

Melina: Byron... I’m so sorry. I thought I could... but I can’t

It felt like a ton of bricks were falling from the sky, hitting me with force and holding me down all at once.

Byron: But... Melina we love each other

Melina: We do. You are the best man I know. But... I just can’t

I had to sit down. I didn’t care what filth was on the ground. I didn’t have it in me to stand when I was being crushed from the inside.

Byron: I don’t understand. Is it Terry? Do you love him

Melina: What? No. There’s no one else

Byron: If there’s no one else then why can’t we be together

Melina: We wouldn’t last

Byron: You don’t know that Meli

Melina: Byron, I’m not coming back to San Myshuno

There it was. The truth I had prayed wouldn’t come to pass. If she could just come home with me, everything would be okay. My screw ups of the past three years could be overwritten because nothing else would be as important as me having her. But... maybe I could change? I had already changed so why not more?

Byron: You don’t have to come back to San Myshuno

Melina: What?

Byron: I’ll move here. I can have a home studio and just video chat with everyone

Melina: *tearfully* You would move here for me?

Byron: I would. I love you Melina

Melina: *through tears* What if I don’t want you to move here for me

Byron: What?

Melina: I thought I might but... Byron I listened to the album. It’s good. It’s better than good. You have a gift. You need to continue using it

Byron: But... I can keep using it here. Being here wouldn’t stop me

Melina: But it would stop me

Byron: Meli... I really don’t understand

Melina: I know your relationship with Autumn was fake. And I don’t blame you for wanting romance, I told you to go for it. But...

Shoot. Was it that I’d slept with other people when she wanted me to love only her? No that couldn’t be it, she said.... what had she said? Me moving here would stop her?

Byron: Please Meli, I would never stop you working. I know you love art history, I know it brings you joy. It wouldn’t be right for me to-

Melina: That’s not it... Byron... you’re going to be famous. Really famous, not just small time famous. And I’m so proud of you but... I can’t go on that journey with you. I wouldn’t survive the press

Byron: The press? They were just reporting stuff about me and Autumn because she’s a socialite

Melina: *sniffles* They weren’t. You’re young, attractive, and extremely talented. The press are interested in you, and they are going to keep being interested in you. They should be, you deserve it, but I can’t stand up to all that

Byron: Meli... come on, you’re like the bravest person I know

Melina: That’s... Byron maybe I don’t want to spend my life being brave. I want to be happy. I don’t want to have to be worried that if I eat a good meal people online will decide I’m pregnant. I don’t want to have to defend you to my friends and family when they see pictures of you with some hot model who is in a video of yours. I don’t want to have to constantly change my phone number to avoid news outlets bombarding me for news about why we’re not married, or not pregnant, or why I chose to wear one designers dress over another

We sat and stood in silence. The rain poured down fiercely and I felt like the heavens were screaming alongside the voice in my head. All the work I’d done on myself, making myself emotionally available… understanding that I wasn’t doomed to hurt her just because of my DNA… it didn’t matter. The woman of my dreams couldn’t see herself in mine.

Byron: *clears throat* You’re not going to change your mind? No matter what I say? Not even if I say I’ll give up music

Melina: You can’t give up music. The world needs your music

Byron: When we have lunch tomorrow I’ll-

Melina: We can’t have lunch tomorrow

Byron: But we love each other. Can’t we stay friends?

Melina: We’ve stayed friends these last three years and look where it’s gotten us. Far more hurt and broken than we were in the first place

Byron: Are you saying *sniffs* Are you saying we have to stop talking to each other

Melina: *through tears* Yes. Or we’ll never get over each other

I pushed myself up, barely registering what muck was on me now. It wasn’t important.

Byron: I’ll never be as happy as we could have been together

Melina: No. Byron please, you have to try. Try for me. Somewhere out there is a woman who will be lucky to call herself yours. Someone you will treat like a queen. Do not stop yourself from finding her because you dream of what we could have been

Byron: I don’t know how to stop dreaming about you

Melina: Neither do I... but we have to adjust

I started to sob and she pulled me in for a deep hug.

Melina: You will always be my first love. The guy I compare every man to. But I can’t follow you on the path you’re destined for

Byron: *through tears* I don’t want to be by myself

Melina: You’re not by yourself. You have wonderful family, and friends, people that can support you. But we’re not each others happy ending

Byron: I’m going to miss you every time I breathe

I don’t know how long we stood there embracing and crying as the dark sky fell around us. None of the gloom I felt before compared to that moment. I felt as though I was dying, my imagined future turned to ash and dust in the spaces between heartbeats.

Melina by @bloomingkyras

[twlgholts]

always kind of was, j.b.

chapter nine, things you don’t say

— jacob black x f. reader

a/n: holy long chapter its like double the length of other ones oops! but we almost done so stay tuned…

taglist: @asillysimp @grimlinn @eneywey @shinobuily @ravisinghs-wife @mjustag1rl @mae-gi-writes @agustdeeyaa @itsfromaboyband-blog

prev. series masterlist! next.

Death is imminent. Most don’t get the luxury of reaching the end of their life naturally–peacefully. Most don’t die knowing their life was well-lived, well-loved.

You, however, were going to take that luxury away from Jacob Black.

Thirty-five hours, forty-two minutes, eight seconds. That’s how long it had been since you last saw him, since that night. You hadn’t texted, but neither had he.

To be fair, he knew you needed more space than he did. Jacob always seemed to know that about you–how when your emotions boiled over, you needed quiet. Stillness. Time alone to cool off so you could speak your mind without every word carrying too much heat, especially ones you didn’t mean.

And he was right.

Which only pissed you off more.

Because if he understood you that well–understood what you needed, how you worked, how you shut down–then why did he keep you under the dark, like you hadn’t spent your entire lives knowing each other inside-out?

He knew you wouldn’t reach out first. You weren’t the kind of person who broke the silence until you were ready, and he knew that. You knew that he knew that. Which made it all worse because even if he knew you needed space, even if he understood it down to a science, a part of you still wished he’d done the opposite anyway. You wanted him to prove you wrong, to show up at your doorstep soaked and breathless and say, screw space, I care too much to stay away.

But he didn’t.

And maybe there was no right move he could’ve made. Maybe there was no winning. Maybe this whole situation was designed to screw you both up.

When Jacob felt things, he felt them with everything in him. He was stubborn. He loved hard and fast, but he always, always, put others before himself. That’s why it felt natural for him to throw his life into danger without blinking–because protecting Forks from real monsters gave him purpose. It distracted him from thinking too hard about stuff that really scared him.

Like feelings.

Like you.

Everything had happened too fast. The shifting, the imprinting, the supernatural chaos. One second he was just a kid worrying about homework, dreaming about a girl who moved away. The next, he had fur, paws, responsibilities, and a cosmic bond telling him the person who kept him grounded was now the axis his entire universe spun around.

You didn’t do anything wrong and it wasn’t something you said. You just existed, and somehow your existence alone became the thing Jacob needed to survive.

When you left, he told himself the crush would die quietly. And it did–kind of. It fizzled out, but not really. Never really. He buried it, shoved it down with both hands, and then you came back and suddenly it was like he didn’t need air, or food, or sleep. Just you.

You being near him rewired everything. The progress he’d made–the person he was trying to become–froze. Halted like his growth hit a red light and never got the green again.

He never wanted to hurt you. Not ever. He wanted to do the opposite, to protect you and preserve your peace by keeping you from the heavy, tangled mess of what he was now. The last thing he wanted was to trap you in something you never asked for.

And the worst part? He knew you’d understand because you always did. You’d listen and nod and hold space for him the way no one else could.

That made it scarier.

Because if you understood, then it’d be real. It would mean accepting what he was, what you were to him, and what that might do to you.

Not seeing you sucked. But knowing you were hurting because of him? That made his skin crawl, his chest ache. He could feel it–literally–because of the damn imprint, the cosmic tie that tethered his every heartbeat to yours.

And lately, with patrols getting more intense, with rogue vampires creeping through the tree line again, Jacob’s already limited time had shrunk even more. Which meant pushing you further out. Which meant more guilt. More regret. More thoughts circling like vultures.

And everyone noticed.

“You look like crap,” Embry told him one afternoon, smirking around a half-eaten granola bar as Jacob slouched deeper into the worn couch in Emily’s living room.

Jacob didn’t bother answering. His arms were crossed, hair a mess, dark circles etched under his eyes like bruises.

Quil threw down a reverse card during their lazy Uno game and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, man. You’re gonna implode. Or imprint-sulk yourself into an aneurysm.”

“I’m fine,” Jacob muttered.

“Liar,” Embry replied immediately, not even looking up from his cards.

“You’re not sleeping. You’re screwing up on patrols. You let a tree root punk you last night. A root, Jake.” Quil gestured toward the bandage around Jacob’s thumb. “That’s embarrassing for all of us.”

Jacob sighed through his nose. “Yeah. I know.”

There was a pause.

Then Quil leaned back and said, “Look. I’m saying this because I love you, bro. But you’re being a total idiot. A certified, capital ‘I’ idiot. You know it. We know it. Probably even the trees know it at this point.”

“Great pep talk,” Jacob replied, sarcastic.

“I’m not done,” Quil said. “You don’t even have to tell her the wolf stuff yet. Honestly, I wouldn’t. She’s already trying to figure out why you’re acting like this moody-loner-slash protector hybrid. You’re already giving off major Angel-from-Buffy vibes. Don’t make it worse by dumping a werewolf-shaped bomb on her.”

Embry snorted. “For real. If you disappear dramatically one more time, she’s gonna start journaling about you in cursive.”

Jacob cracked a reluctant smile but didn’t say anything. Then, without looking up, he tossed his last card onto the pile. “Uno out.”

Quil blinked. “Wait–seriously?”

Jacob just leaned back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling, eyes dull. “Doesn’t mean I’m winning at life.”

Embry let out a low whistle. “Damn. That was darker than expected.”

“Talk to her,” Quil said again, more serious now. “You don’t have to say everything, just something. Something real, honest, because not saying anything? That’s what’s killing you.”

Jacob was sad, but so were you. 

Not just sad. Confused. Conflicted. Hurt. Stuck somewhere between rage and ache and it all sat heavy in your chest like a weight you couldn’t breathe under.

You were drinking a glass of orange juice and staring at the fridge like it had answers. Maybe if you looked hard enough, the swirling storm inside your brain might settle.

“You’re looking at the fridge like red laser beams are gonna shoot out of your eyes and evaporate it,” your dad said, stepping into the kitchen with that familiar dry tone, breaking the silence like a crack of thunder. He clocked your slumped posture and pinched brows instantly.

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Practicing for my victim.”

He walked over and rubbed your shoulders, then kissed the side of your head in that comforting, fatherly way he always did. “Black? Don’t do that to my boy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just so annoyed. Like why is he acting like a freak and being so secretive? I’m not asking for the government’s confidential top-secrets. I just want him to be honest.”

“I was just like him,” your dad says, smiling as he opened the cabinet and pulled out a mug. “Young. Rebellious. Mysterious. It didn’t help when I fell in love.”

You raised a brow and perched up a little, staring at him like he’d said something criminal. “With Mom? You? Mysterious?”

He smiles with pride written all over his face.

“Mom said you used to call her five times a day and show up to her work ‘accidentally’ like, three times a week.”

He nodded solemnly. “That was me being mysterious.”

You laughed, for real this time.

“I once tried to impress her by dancing backwards down the hallway in rollerblades while holding a boombox in high school. Hit a locker, flipped over, broke my wrist, passed out, hospitalized. She was sitting next to me when I woke up. That’s when I knew she was the one.”

You blinked. “You never told me that version.”

“Because I looked like an idiot,” he replied, sipping his coffee. “But an idiot in love.”

“So what’s that got to do with Jacob acting like an emotionally repressed cryptid?”

He chuckled, deep and loud from his belly. “Everything. You kids think love is clean. It’s not. Sometimes it’s stupid and messy and makes you act like a weirdo who stares at a fridge. But if you don’t deal with it head-on, it eats you alive.”

You stared into your juice, feeling heat crawl up the back of your neck.

“Just… don’t wait too long,” he advises, heading for the hallway. “I’d like a warm thank you in your wedding speech, not a cold one on your deathbed. Go talk to him before your temper rips him apart.”

Your dad disappears down the hallway, leaving behind the faint scent of coffee. You take another sip of your orange juice and just sit there, watching the condensation slide down the glass, listening to the silence settle in the house like fog. Your thoughts churn quietly beneath the surface–heavy, sharp, loud, impossible to name. You look down at your hands and they’re still, but everything inside you is not.

You don’t know how much time passes. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe an hour. But eventually, after thirty-seven hours, twelve minutes, and fifty-six seconds of silence and distance, you throw on (his) hoodie, grab your keys, and drive.

The road is muscle memory. You’ve taken this route so many times, it’s etched into your bones. You pass the place where Jacob taught you how to skate, where he pushed you too fast down a hill and nearly gave you a concussion. Where he laughed so hard he fell over with you.

Eventually, you’re on the reservation, the ocean wind shifting in through the cracked window, and the ache in your chest building like pressure before a storm.

You park in front of a small, red wooden house that always looked too much like a barn. A little weathered by time, but standing.

You barely knock before the door opens.

Jacob looks tired, his hair messy like he had just woken up, his chest rising and falling concerningly fast. He looks at you like he wasn’t expecting you but was hoping you’d come anyway. But you don’t give him a chance to speak.

You step forward and just let it all out.

“Do you know how much it hurt not knowing what the hell was going on with you? I felt like I was screaming into a void and you just stood there watching. Do you know what it feels like to have someone look at you like you’re everything one second and then like you’re a stranger the next? Like they’re holding behind some thick wall and you’re not allowed through, no matter how hard you pound on it?”

You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you grab at the sleeves of the hoodie.

“I came here thinking things would be different–or maybe just the same in the ways that mattered. But you’re not talking to me, Jacob. Not really. You show up, you bail, you look at me like I’m the answer to a question you won’t even ask. And I’m trying. God, I’m trying to be patient and soft and understanding, but I’m not a mind reader. I don’t want to be. I want you to trust me enough to say something. Anything.”

He’s still. Watching you. Breathing heavy.

You keep going, voice cracking just slightly now.

“Because this isn’t fair. I know you’re going through something, I see it. But it feels like you’re grieving something I don’t even know about, like there’s this shadow over you and you won’t let me near it. You shut me out and I feel like I’m just waiting for the version of you I used to know to come back. But maybe that version is gone. And if he is, at least say that. Is that too much to ask for? Too selfish?”

There’s a moment of silence. He doesn’t move.

Then he steps aside and lets you in.

You follow him into the warmth of the house, your heartbeat still thudding, your throat dry. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long breath before finally looking at you again.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, voice low but steady. “And before you get mad again–just listen. I want to be honest with you, more than anything, but there’s this part of me I didn’t ask for. Something that’s not entirely mine to explain. And I don’t even understand it yet.”

He swallows, his eyes are shining too, but he blinks quickly.

“It’s been eating me alive since before you came back. Every time I look at you, there’s this war inside me wanting to protect you and wanting to keep you as far from me as possible, and I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t even fully know what I am right now, let alone how to share that with someone else.”

He finally steps closer. “And I know you’re hurt. I hate myself for hurting you, but I’m hurting too, and I don’t have the words or the tools to fix this yet. I just need more time. I promise I’ll tell you–everything. But right now, if I did, I’d only be handing you a burden that I’m still trying to carry myself and I can’t do that to you.”

You breathe in slowly, heart thudding against you ribs.

“Nothing about you is a burden to me, Jacob,” you whisper. “I love and care about every inch of your soul. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he says quietly, “And that’s what terrifies me. Why do you seem to love and understand me more than I do myself? Just let me figure this out first. Let me become the person who deserves that kind of love. Then I’ll tell you. I swear.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Then you nod once, slow.

“Okay, I trust you. Don’t go breaking it, Jake.”

“I won’t,” he replies almost immediately. “I swear I won’t.”

“You’re not kicking me out now, are you?” you ask, voice soft.

“No,” he says, voice low, like the word had been waiting in his chest this whole time. “Stay. Please. Stay.”

There’s something raw in the way he says it–not desperate, exactly. Just sincere, like he’s finally admitting that he needs something.

You stop, half-turned toward the door, and look at him.

“Okay,” you say softly.

You drop your keys on the table, toe off your shoes, and glance around the room like it’s unfamiliar, even though you’ve been here a hundred times before. Everything feels a little warped, like the air’s heavier now, slower. Jacob stays quiet, eyes following you with that same unreadable look. Part guilt. Part relief. Mostly something deeper–something wounded and tender.

You shift your weight, then glance down at your phone. “Crap. I forgot my charger.”

His voice is steadier now, a little warmer. “Top drawer on my desk. Might still be that old one you left.”

You nod, grateful for something simple, and head toward his room.

His room smells like him–that mix of pine and clean laundry and something warm you can’t quite name. Possibly familiarity. You flick on the light and go to the desk.

You open the drawer and pause.

The overhead light flickers softly, catching on the edge of something crinkled and colorful nestled between loose batteries and old screws.

Starburst wrappers.

Dozens of them.

Some smoothed flat, others crumpled into little cubes like they’d been stuffed into a pocket in a hurry. Pink, orange, red–every color, every flavor. You pick one up, your fingers still recognizing the texture, the weight of it. A soft breath escapes you before you can help it.

Jacob’s voice floats in from the hallway. “You find it?”

You don’t answer right away. You’re still staring into the drawer, holding a piece of your shared history between your fingers.

He steps into his room. “Hey, you okay?”

You hold up the wrapper without turning around. “You kept these?”

A pause. You can feel him stop in the doorway behind you.

Then, quieter: “What do you mean?”

You look back at him, your expression a mixture of incredulous and something tender. You shift back slightly so he can see inside the drawer. His eyes land on it–on the sea of familiar colors–and something in his face changes. Softens.

He walks forward slowly. “I forgot I still had those.”

You raise a brow. “Did you, though?”

Jacob scratches the back of his neck again, half a smile playing at his lips. “Okay. Maybe I knew. But only because I never wanted to throw them out.”

You turn toward him, arms folded loosely, a pink wrapper still in your hand. “Why?”

He looks down at the drawer, then back up at you with a sort of quiet vulnerability. “Because they were yours. Ours. I don’t know. I guess… I held onto them because they reminded me of a time when things made sense. When getting a kiss from you only cost a few pieces of candy.”

You scoff lightly. “You were constantly broke.”

“I know.” He smiles. “But you still patched me up anyway. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You shake your head, stepping closer. “You’re such a sentimental idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

He meets your eyes, and something heavier settles between you. A beat of silence. A shared knowing. You search his face for something—an answer, maybe. Or a reason why you’re still here, why your heart still aches when it comes to him.

“I missed this,” you say, your voice quieter now. “Us. Before everything got complicated. But I’m glad we talked.”

Jacob nods, almost solemn. “Me too.”

You inhale slowly, chest tight with the things you haven’t said. Then he reaches out and pulls you in gently, his arms wrapping around your waist like they were made to. You fold into him without resistance. The hug is soft at first, then stronger. He tucks his chin over your shoulder, and you stay that way–for a long, quiet moment. No words. Just breath, warmth, and the ache of being known too well.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His hands are still resting on your arms. “Let me make everything up to you.”

You tilt your head, suspicious. “How?”

“Tomorrow,” he says, but certain. “Be free at six.”

You blink. “You’re giving me a time but not a plan? Again?”

His smile tugs to the side, sheepish. “I swear I won’t drag you hiking this time. Not without warning or verbal consent, at least.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to mull it over. “But I’m expecting, like, a five-course apology.”

He raises a brow. “You’re getting a pack of Starbursts and my sparkling company. Anyone else would be fighting for that.”

You snort, despite yourself. “Modest, aren’t we?”

“I’ve been told it’s one of my more annoying qualities.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile’s already taken over. “Guess I’ll allow it.”

He leans in a little, playful but tentative. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, softer now. “I’ll be there.”

He grins. “I’ll take what I can get.”

There’s a beat. Just the quiet hum of the room and the distance between you shrinking a little more.

You tilt your head. “We’re okay?”

Jacob meets your gaze, steady and warm. “We’re okay if you’re okay.”

You nod, voice just above a whisper. “Then we’re okay.”

And you don’t need to say anything else. Because right now, in his hoodie, in his room, in this moment—you are.

[wlw-imagines]

Eleven - JJ x Reader (Criminal Minds)

a/n: i re-read to edit (not very well but anyway) and realise i have called jj 'soft' like a bajillion times but i will not change because she IS SOFT okay? so, sorry for the repetition -- i also realised pushing this trend of '5+1' to '10+1' is A LOT and how many times can you write two people dancing around the fact that they love each other ?!?!?! but ah well, so be the prompt and i still enjoyed it!!! hope you guys do too!

summary: A classic - 10 times something almost happened + the 1 time it did.

Part of May Prompts: Day Eighteen, eleven

1.

You sit on the curb outside the abandoned warehouse, the Miami heat pressing down in waves as sweat slicks your skin.

The day had taken a turn you never would have guessed at, and your guesses have grown to be pretty wild since your work began with the BAU.

Your sleeve is stained dark red. It's not your blood, but it still unsettles you. The coppery smell sticks to your nose. You’re shaking from adrenaline, every muscle tense, but the aftershock makes your hands tremble uncontrollably.

You can't get the picture of the bloody scene out of your head. The victim bleeding out, begging you for help, grasping at you like you were a lifeline. You should ahve been. You shake your head. It's all too much.

You try to breathe through it, slow in, slow out, but the world still feels too sharp, too loud. The noise of footsteps and radios fades into a distant hum behind your closed eyes. It’s like you’ve left your body and are watching from somewhere else, and that somewhere else feels fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

Then you feel her.

JJ’s crouching down beside you before you even open your eyes. She’s calm, steady. She's the anchor you didn’t know you were grasping for. She pulls a bottle of water from her gear and holds it out. Your hand closes around it and you send her a short nod of thanks, hardly able to look her in the eye.

Her other hand reaches up, gentle and warm, brushing a streak of grime mixed with blood from your cheek. The touch is electric, soft enough to make your breath hitch. You lean into it, your eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

"You’re okay," she says softly, voice low but certain. "I’ve got you."

Her words seep into you like warmth spreading through cold limbs. You want to believe her, want to sink into the safety she offers. For a brief moment, you imagine the way her hand might feel sliding down your jaw, the way her lips might press lightly against your skin, just for a heartbeat.

Her face is inches from yours, every breath shared. You almost taste the faint scent of her shampoo, something crisp and clean beneath the grit of the day. She looks at you with that steady, unflinching gaze. A gaze that is full of care and something more, something unspoken.

You nearly reach out, fingers trembling, to pull her closer. You nearly close the distance between her lips and your cheek.

But then there's a sharp, sudden slam of a car door breaks the spell. She pulls back immediately, hands dropping to her knees, eyes flickering away for just a second before she looks back.

"Drink," she says instead, pushing your hand to lift the bottle to your lips.

You swallow, and the moment is gone. The weight of everything still hangs heavy, but now there’s an undercurrent of something fragile and new.

You want to ask her what that was. Want to tell her how you almost felt that spark. You also want to truly let her in and tell her you've never seen anything like what you've seen today. That you need her now more than ever. But the words catch in your throat.

The team is moving again, voices calling your names. You stand slowly, knees weak but steady, glancing at JJ who is already back on her feet, scanning the scene with the same professional focus she always carries.

But when your eyes meet, there’s a quiet understanding.

You’re not okay, not really.

But she’s got you. And maybe that’s enough for now.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

2.

It's a few weeks later. The steady hum of the airplane engine is oddly soothing after the chaos of the last case. You lean your head slowly against JJ’s shoulder, eyes heavy with exhaustion that slips in despite yourself. The rush of the investigation finally fades, replaced by the pull of sleep.

You feel JJ’s body shift just slightly beneath your cheek, warm and steady. The scent of her settles around you. Her breath is calm and even, her presence steadying in the cramped space.

You close your eyes, letting yourself drift. The subtle rise and fall of her breath becomes a gentle rhythm, it lulls you and makes you feel safe. You don’t quite realise you’ve fallen completely asleep until a quiet snap and a soft giggle breaks through the airplane’s noise.

Your eyes flutter open, blinking against the dim overhead light. Penelope’s unmistakable grin is the first thing you see, phone in hand, her voice barely above a whisper but full of mischief.

"Well, well, look who finally crashed." She turned her phone to you and wiggled her eyebrows, "This is going in the scrapbook."

You straighten quickly, a blush creeping up your neck as you glance at JJ. She’s sitting very still, her eyes fixed on the tiny screen in Penelope’s hand, lips twitching into a soft smile.

"Delete it, Garcia," JJ whispers, voice calm but firm.

Penelope lets out a laugh, throwing her head back slightly, "Delete? Honey, this is evidence of true lo-"

"Pen." JJ interrupts her, giving a soft shake of her head. Garcia just hums to herself, never losing her smile.

You want to sink down into your seat and disappear, but JJ’s hand finds yours under the tray table, fingers curling around yours like a silent shield.

You squeeze back, heart racing. You'd confess to her then, in that moment. If it weren't for the insecurity holding you back. And the team's presence. And... probably more reasons than you would care to count.

Penelope’s teasing fades into the background as you rest your head back on JJ’s shoulder, feeling, again, completely safe.

The world outside the airplane windows stretches vast and dark, but here in this small space, with JJ’s steady presence beside you, it feels like the safest place in the world.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

3.

The bar is dim and quiet, the kind of place where you can almost forget the weight of the world outside. The day has stretched you thin. It had been purely long hours chasing leads, piecing together fragments that never quite fit. Your body aches, but it’s your mind that’s truly tired.

JJ slides onto the stool next to you, ordering two drinks without a word. The bartender sets them down in front of you both, and for a moment, you just sit there, fingers wrapped loosely around the glass.

She watches you with something that catches you off guard - it's all soft around the edges. "You okay?"

You take a slow sip, the bitterness of the drink spreading throughout your chest. "I’m fine."

"Yeah?" Her voice is gentle but firm. "You don’t look fine."

You laugh, a little bitter, just like the drink. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm- It's just that I want you to know I'm here for you." She bumps her shoulder softly to yours and then lets it rest there.

"You worry a lot."

JJ shrugs, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It’s part of the job. And part of caring about you."

The words hang between you, charged and vulnerable.

You meet her gaze, and it’s like the whole bar disappears. "I know. I just… don’t want to be the person who makes you worry."

She leans in slightly, lowering her voice. "It's a good thing really. I worry because I want you safe. Because I want you here, with me," She heistates, brief but it is there, "with the team." She continues.

You swallow, heart pounding. "It’s scary."

"Yeah." She nods, eyes glinting with something unspoken. "But worth it."

You clink your glasses gently, and she smiles. "To surviving."

"To surviving," she echoes.

You almost say more here in this bar. About how much you need her, how you’re terrified of what’s growing between you, or perhaps what you're not allowing to grow between you, but instead, you change the subject.

"So, when do you think we will get a break?"

JJ chuckles softly, the tension easing just a bit. "Not anytime soon, that's for sure."

You grin despite yourself, the moment slipping away. But you carry it with you, the almost confession, the warmth, the hope.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

4.

You had finally caught a break. And it just so happened that this break coincided with a unit wedding. You'd all been invited to an agent's wedding, someone from in the office beside you in the BAU. The reception was already in full swing by the time you found JJ.

Warm light filtered through the old windows of the vineyard’s converted barn, casting soft gold across the polished wood floor. Laughter floated through the air like bubbles of champagne, easy and unburdened. This felt so rare for a team that carried so much.

You’d seen her earlier during the ceremony, seated two rows ahead, blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ear, the silhouette of her dress elegant and quiet. She hadn’t seen you arrive, but you had noticed the way her shoulders relaxed when the vows began, as if the reminder of love existing and surviving had softened something in her.

Now, as she crossed the dance floor and found you by the edge of the room, she looked like something out of a dream. The midnight-blue dress clung just right, subtle and stunning, the kind of beautiful that didn’t need to try. And her smile, when she reached for your hand, was shy but real.

"They’re playing the slow stuff now," she said, almost too casually.

You blinked, your mouth parting. "And is that your way of asking me to dance?"

She tilted her head, amused. "That depends. Are you going to make me beg?"

You laughed, breathless, surprised at how easily she could still undo you with a smile. "Not tonight. I should warn you I have high standards. I danced with Emily earlier and she's risen the bar by quite a bit." She grinned and you let her take your hand. Her palm was warm against yours, her touch gentle but sure. She guided you to the floor just as a slow, honey-smooth song began to play. It was one of those soft acoustic tracks that made time feel slower.

You moved together without speaking, arms folding naturally around each other. JJ’s hand settled at the small of your back, her other holding yours loosely but securely. You could feel the tension in her slowly melt away, like warmth soaking into you both.

"You clean up nice," she murmured, gaze soft as she looked up at you.

You smiled, teasing. "You almost sound impressed."

She didn’t look away. "I am." Her voice was quiet, intimate in a way that made your pulse flutter. Then she added, barely above a whisper, "But you know me... I always am."

It hit you then, the weight of her words. The way she said them like a secret she hadn’t meant to share, or maybe had meant to, just not like this.

You didn’t reply, not with words. You just looked at her, long enough that she started to blush and glance away. You wanted to say everything: I notice you too. I’m always watching you across rooms, in briefing sessions, in the way you worry about all of us more than you let on. I’ve loved you quietly for so long I don’t remember what it felt like before.

But someone brushed past too close, jarring the moment. You both stepped slightly apart, your bodies still touching but your bubble broken.

She didn’t meet your eyes again, not directly.

Instead, she rested her head lightly against your shoulder, and you closed your eyes to memorize the feel of her there, how natural it felt, how right. The music played on. Your feet moved gently with hers. And it was enough, for now, just to hold her. To let the quiet weight of almost fill the space between your heart and hers.

You would hold this night close. The song. The way her voice trembled when she told you she was impressed. The way she didn’t need to say the word beautiful for you to feel it humming underneath her every glance.

And the way, if you hadn’t been so afraid of ruining the fragile thing between you, you might have kissed her right there, in the golden light, surrounded by strangers and music and maybe-miracles.

But you didn’t.

You just kept swaying, letting her stay close, memorising the way she felt in your arms. Because you were still waiting for the moment that would finally tip everything over the edge.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

5.

You’re still in your Kevlar when the clock ticks closer to midnight.

The BAU bullpen is quiet, the kind of quiet that follows a long, soul-draining case. Everyone should be home. No one should be working on New Year’s Eve. But the case wrapped late, and no one had the energy to do much more than change into clean clothes and gather upstairs.

You and JJ are the first to be ready. It's 11:55 and you are sure the rest of the team are going to miss the new year. But it feels safe with JJ here. She’s leaning against the wall beside the BAU doors, arms crossed, her profile lit up by the blinking red digits of the wall clock.

You step outside with her, breathing in the crisp December air. It's colder than you expected, and your jacket’s still inside, but you don’t want to go back in. Not when she looks like this, her hair loose around her shoulders, cheeks pink from the wind, a quiet something in her eyes that tugs at you.

You manage to avert your eyes, checking your watch as an excuse: 11:57.

"They say how you spend midnight sets the tone for your year," you say, just to fill the silence.

JJ glances sideways at you, smiling faintly. "So… freezing outside the Bureau after a murder-suicide? Sounds promising."

You huff a laugh, the breath visible in the cold. "Maybe we should focus more on the present company than the vibes."

She looks at you fully then. And the smile doesn’t leave her lips, it just softens.

"You think?"

"Yeah, I think," you say, smiling.

You glance up and suddenly, fireworks crack the sky open above the city. Loud bursts of color and sound scatter the quiet. Reds, blues, golds. It’s jarring, a little surreal, but you can’t take your eyes off it.

Neither can she, or at least that's what you think. She’s not watching the fireworks. She’s watching you.

Your heart stumbles. There’s something in her gaze, it's open, intense, full of all the things she doesn’t say.

Your fingers brush against hers. She doesn’t pull away. Her breath fogs in the air between you, slow and steady.

You step closer.

She doesn’t move.

Your chest brushes hers with every breath, and your hand finds the side of her coat, gripping the fabric near her waist. You tilt your head just slightly, just enough that your nose grazes hers.

Her eyes flutter shut.

And then-

"Happy New Year!" Morgan’s voice cuts through the night, loud and oblivious.

You jerk back like you’ve been burned.

JJ blinks fast, clearing whatever had just clouded her expression. The moment shatters like glass, fragments of something that almost was.

The rest of the team spills out of the building, Garcia in a glittery jacket, Emily holding champagne in paper cups, Reid offering scientific trivia about the origin of fireworks. Laughter rises into the night. Music blares from a car stereo somewhere nearby.

JJ takes a small step back, her arms wrapping around herself. You shove your hands in your pockets. She doesn’t meet your eyes.

Garcia flings an arm around your shoulder and hands you a cup of champagne. "You almost missed it!"

"Almost," you echo, gaze flicking to JJ. "Seems to be a theme."

Garcia doesn’t catch the undertone, but Emily does. Her eyes narrow slightly as she looks between you and JJ. She doesn’t say anything. Just smirks knowingly and sips her drink.

JJ retreats toward the edge of the group, slipping on her quiet, polite smile like a mask she’s worn too many times before.

You don’t follow.

Not yet.

Instead, you take a sip of the lukewarm champagne, watching fireworks burst and fade in the sky, beautiful and gone before you can really appreciate them.

Later, when everyone’s started to drift home and Garcia’s hiccuping over a resolution list no one asked for, JJ finds you again.

You’re sitting on the steps outside the Bureau, arms braced on your knees.

She sits beside you. Doesn’t speak for a while.

Then, softly, "Sorry, about earlier- I..."

"Yeah, no, completely." You agree, just to fill the silence really, but you're not entirely sure what you are agreeing with.

"I think we just kind of got swept up... by it all." She doesn't look at you.

"Oh?" You fidget, "Right, yeah. I know what you mean. Big case, big fireworks, new year... all that stuff." You nod along as if what you're saying and what you actually feel has any connection or meaning here.

"Happy new year, Y/N." JJ puts her hand on your shoulder as she stands up and lets it linger there for a few moments.

You try to smile as she leaves, "You too, JJ."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

6.

You were trying to act like everything was still normal, like you were okay. You thought you'd done an alrihgt job so far. Nothing felt too weird since the almost-kiss and you thought you may have gotten away with it. You had taken the time to retreat in private and lick your wounds.

And besides, most of the time, you were never alone with JJ.

Clearly, this time, you were out of luck.

But it felt just like old times, maybe you could relax a little back into this friendship.

The apartment was quiet except for the flickering glow of the TV, the sound of a horror movie droning softly in the background. The rest of the team had bailed on movie night, either exhausted or caught up in other things, but you and JJ had forged on.

You felt the buzz of wine warming your cheeks, the kind of soft, relaxed feeling that only comes when the world slows down enough to let your guard down. JJ was curled up beside you on the couch, her head resting lightly on your shoulder. Her sock-covered feet were tangled with yours beneath the blanket, and you could feel the steady rhythm of her breath against your skin.

She sighed, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Why do we always pick the worst horror movies?”

You glanced over at her, catching the sparkle in her eyes that had nothing to do with the movie and everything to do with being here, now, back together.

You turned your head slowly, meeting her gaze. She was already looking at you, her eyes soft and warm, the kind of look that still made your heart skip, even though you knew it shouldn't.

For a long moment, the only sound was the movie’s eerie soundtrack and the occasional creak of the apartment settling around you. Then JJ spoke, her voice a whisper, "You know, I never get tired of this."

You swallowed hard, feeling the words settle deep inside you. "Me neither."

She smiled shyly, brushing her fingers against your hand, sending an unexpected jolt through your entire body. The closeness was electric, and suddenly the space between you felt charged once more with all the things neither of you dared say aloud.

The movie played on, but your focus was entirely on JJ, the way her lips curved in that soft smile, the way her eyes held yours with unspoken meaning. You felt the warmth of her body pressed against yours, steady and reassuring.

The night stretched on, full of quiet moments and the kind of intimacy that doesn’t need words. Every glance, every touch was a promise waiting to be fulfilled, a secret kept between just the two of you.

As the credits rolled, you found yourself leaning into her again, heart pounding, breath catching. JJ’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you.

But then her phone buzzed on the table and she laughed softly, pulling back just enough to break the spell. "Bet you it's Pen with major regret on missing out."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't bail." You smiled, giving her space to read her message, not wanting to press in on her personal space. "It's- I'm glad I have you as a friend." You winced slightly, did that seem too obvious? Did she now know you clearly did not want to be friends with her? "I mean-"

JJ's head snapped up slightly and an eyebrow quirked up, "Yeah, one hundred percent." She smiled and shifted on the sofa, typing out a reply on her phone, "I'll always be here for you- for whatever you need."

You let out a breath and turned the TV off before stretching out on the sofa, not sure you could trust your voice to correct your previous fuck up without making it ten times worse.

Eventually, JJ had walked you to the front door and pulled you close, "You get home safe, you hear me?"

"I'll text you." You nodded, hardly able to look her in the eye as your mind was on other things. You were already preparing to kick yourself the whole way home for the stupid comments your brain manages to produce. She does not like you like that. If you could just repeat that mantra enough times, it was bound to stick, right?

xxxxxxxxxxxx

7.

This time, i starts with a bottle of wine (or two) and a night that goes sideways.

Garcia had planned a team dinner, her usual bright, glittery affair, full of mismatched cushions and rainbow-coloured charcuterie boards. But then a case came through and almost everyone was pulled in five different directions before dessert could be served. Everyone, that is, except you and JJ.

You had both managed to sneak away early. Garcia insisted you take the wine she'd picked especially for the night, waving you off with a wink and a "Have fun, my little delinquents."

So here you are, hours later, curled up (again) on JJ’s couch, legs tangled beneath a shared blanket (again), both of you more than a little tipsy and flushed (again). The second wine bottle is nearly empty. Her living room glows with the soft light of a single lamp, and some quiet folk song hums in the background from her speaker.

She’s leaned back beside you, hair down and loose, eyes a little glassy from the alcohol and the hour. You think she’s never looked more undone. Or more beautiful.

You’re warm in that way where your thoughts start spilling out without warning. Dangerous. Familiar. The kind of spilling out you have been trying desparately to keep in. But you are way too drunk to remember this in the morning so... who cares?

"I like your stupid throw pillows," you mumble, nudging one that says Wine Not? with your foot.

She lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating in your shoulder where her head is resting. "That’s the wine talking."

"Maybe," you say, tipping your head toward hers, "I also like your face."

JJ snorts, then lifts her head to look at you. "Are you drunk?"

"Definitely, but I’m not blind," you counter, grinning. "You’re really pretty and I didn't mean to say that you're my friend." You rush out, "I don't want to be your friend. I want... more. And I want you to want that too." There's a moment of silence and you think... fuck it, let's go all in, "And I should have kissed you on New Year's."

Her smile falters just slightly. Just enough that something shifts. She studies your expression with more seriousness than the moment deserves.

"You’re very drunk," she says softly. "You won't remember this."

You lean your head against the back of the couch, closing your eyes for a second too long. "That doesn’t mean I’m wrong."

She exhales. "If it helps, I agree."

You blink your eyes open at that, you are drunk and things are muffled and you're not entirely sure what is real and what is not any more, "Wait… what? With what?"

JJ shakes her head, laughing under her breath. "Nothing. Bed."

You groan. "You can’t just say something cryptic and then send me to bed like I’m a toddler." Your eyes close again, the alcohol in your system preparing you for shut down.

"You’re not a toddler," she replies, standing slowly, balancing herself by putting a hand on your shoulder. "You’re a drunk profiler who doesn’t know when she’s about to say something she can’t take back."

You look up at her, blinking slowly. "I’d never take it back."

There’s a silence that settles then. Soft and heavy. Her hand is still on your shoulder. She’s looking down at you like she might say something else, something that could change everything.

Instead, she just says, quietly, "Come on. You’ll thank me in the morning."

You let her help you up, even though every part of you wants to stay in the warmth of the moment, clinging to the almost.

She leads you down the hallway to her guest room, flicking on the bedside light with the same kind of careful gentleness she always uses with you. She tosses you a soft T-shirt from a drawer, something lived-in, something that smells like her shampoo and something else warm and safe.

"You okay to change?" she asks, hovering in the doorway.

You nod. "Yeah. I think so."

JJ lingers. Like she doesn’t want to leave just yet.

Then, finally, she offers a small smile. "Sleep well."

As she turns to go, you call after her, voice barely above a whisper.

"JJ?"

She pauses.

"If I wasn’t drunk… would you have kissed me?"

She hesitates for longer than you expect. Then she glances back at you, eyes unreadable in the low light.

"Go to sleep," she says again, but softer this time. Like she wishes the answer were different. Like she wants you to ask again in the morning when your heart is still brave but your mouth isn’t slurring.

And then she’s gone.

You sit on the edge of the bed, the room spinning slowly around you. You don;t manage to change into pyjamas in the end, too drunk to even attempt it. Instead, you bury your face in the fabric of the new shirt. You don’t sleep for a long time. Your mind keeps playing back her voice, her hand on your shoulder, the almost that hangs there between her words.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

8.

It's been a few weeks. You've been trying to balance the feelings you have for JJ, the bits and pieces of memory of that night after Garcia's party, and the way that she has been handling you since - still soft, loving in a way, but maybe more distant. You wish you could remember what happened properly, what had made her change.

You had probably said something stupid, you often find yourself doing that around her.

It's been a tough couple of days, you're hardly sleeping. Normally, you would immediately call JJ - the perfect parnter of insomnia. But this time you haven't, not yet.

You don’t remember falling asleep. Just remember waking up, sweat-soaked, tangled in sheets, heart in your throat.

Your mind is a battlefield. The dream is already slipping through your fingers, but the fear lingers like smoke. Blood. Screaming. The sound of JJ’s voice calling your name, distant and desperate. And then silence.

You sit up fast. The room is too quiet. Your hands are shaking.

You reach for your phone without thinking about the past, without even checking the time. The contact is muscle memory.

JJ.

It rings twice before she answers. Her voice is sleepy but alert beneath it, like she’s already preparing for the worst.

"Hey… you okay?"

You don’t speak right away. Can’t. The sound of her voice cracks something open in your chest. You inhale sharply, trying to keep it together.

"Hey," she says again, gentler this time. "What’s wrong?"

"I…" You close your eyes. "I didn’t know who else to call."

There’s silence on the other end for a beat. Not hesitation, just quiet understanding.

"You did the right thing," she says, already moving. You can hear it, the rustle of her blankets, the creak of a floorboard. "I’m on my way."

"I didn’t ask you to-"

"You don’t have to."

You grip the phone tighter, grounding yourself in her voice.

"I don’t want to be alone."

There’s a pause, just long enough that you think maybe you said too much.

Then, steady and sure, "You’re not."

She’s at your door twenty-two minutes later.

You open the door and she’s there in sweatpants and a hoodie, hair pulled back, keys still in her hand. No makeup. No pretense.

Just JJ.

Her eyes sweep over you quickly, gently. "Bad dream?"

You nod.

She steps in without waiting to be asked. You close the door behind her and the lock clicks into place. You don’t speak again until you’re both seated on your couch, knees almost touching. There’s a blanket across your lap. JJ’s brought two mugs from your kitchen although neither of you really drinks the tea.

"I was bleeding," you say quietly, staring down at the untouched mug. "In the dream. It was my blood. You were trying to stop it. And I was trying to tell you it was okay, but you couldn’t hear me."

JJ doesn’t speak. She just nods, her eyes on yours.

"And then it got quiet. Too quiet. Like the end of a case when it’s over but not really. And suddenly you weren't there and I didn’t know if you made it out. Or if-"

Your throat closes a little. You hadn’t meant to say all of it. You hadn’t meant to say any of it.

But JJ reaches out, her hand finding yours under the blanket. Her thumb traces the back of your knuckles slowly.

"You’re safe," she says. "I’m here."

You want to believe her. The last few days, it hasn't felt like she's there. It feels like she's pulling away. You don't know how to say that part of your fear, you've already said enough.

You want to sink into her voice and pretend that the dream wasn’t a mirror of something real. That you haven’t come too close too many times. That JJ hasn’t nearly died for you more than once. You can't handle her giving you some space, let alone leaving you completely.

"I just think I’m falling apart," you whisper.

"No, you’re not."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you," she says simply. "And I’ve seen you hold yourself together when no one else could. I’ve seen you take hits no one else would come back from. I’ve seen you save lives in the middle of hell."

You squeeze her hand, just to remind yourself she’s real. "What if-" You stop yourself, knowing there's no point in 'what if' questions. "I’m tired, JJ." You mumble instead.

"I know," she nods. "Me too."

And you leave it there. You don't talk about anything else. You don't talk about drunk words or missed chances. Instead, JJ sits by you and waits for you to fall asleep again.

She's gone by the time you wake up, but you have to admit that you feel more rested than you have been for a while.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

9.

The case isn't quite over yet. For now, you all need a moment. You don't know it yet, but the case will turn, and so you might as well enjoy the time untainted by what is to come.

You’re still wound tight from the week - the lack of sleep mounting on top of the pressure of the job, but you’re also starved for something normal. Something that doesn’t involve blood or bulletproof vests.

Which is why you end up in a dive bar near the local precinct. The place is dim, worn in around the edges, with sticky floors and a jukebox that plays too many Springsteen songs. JJ and Emily are already there when you arrive, drinks in hand, nursing beers and the familiar buzz of post-case relief.

"Look who finally joined us," Emily calls, raising her glass.

JJ turns toward you, smile warm, eyes softer than you expect from her after the past few weeks. You feel it land, low in your chest. It's been weird between the two of you and you ache for it to return to normal.

You slip into the booth beside her, close enough to feel the press of her thigh against yours. The contact should be accidental. It’s not.

And then, maybe to make this small, good thing worse, maybe just to make it interesting, or maybe because you are sleep deprived and you think you've already fucked up the one good thing you had going in your life, you let a random girl buy you a drink.

She’s tall. Brunette. Nice enough in that I’ve-never-seen-a-bad-day kind of way. She’s not pushy. Just chatty. You let her talk while your eyes flick over to JJ now and then, hoping to catch her gaze. You're being childish really.

She’s not looking at you.

But her jaw is tight.

Eventually, you return to your table. Emily gives her a long look across the table. "So… new friend?" she asks you, tone light, some slight teasing.

You shrug. "She offered me a whiskey sour. Felt rude to say no."

JJ’s eyes finally flick toward you. "She seems... nice." You meet her gaze. Something sharp glints behind her words. "But she wasn’t your type," she adds, too casually.

Your eyebrows raise. "Oh? And what exactly is my type?"

JJ opens her mouth, then closes it again, jaw tensing once more.

Emily raises her eyebrows and mutters, "And I suddenly need to check on the jukebox," before slipping away.

The air between you and JJ turns heavier. Louder, even in silence.

You lean forward slightly. "Seriously. I want to know. What’s my type, JJ?"

She looks at you then, really looks. Her lips part like she’s going to answer, but it takes her a moment. Too long.

"Someone who doesn’t flirt for sport," she says finally, voice low and even. "Someone who means it."

You blink. The words land sharper than expected.

"And what if I did mean it?" you ask. "Would that make it worse?"

JJ stares at you, unreadable. "With her? Or with me?"

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you push your glass toward the edge of the table, watching the condensation trail down your fingertips.

"With you," you say, barely more than a breath.

There’s a long silence. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.

Then her voice comes quiet, tight. "You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean them."

You sit up straighter. "But what if I do, JJ?"

JJ looks away. "Then you’re two months too late."

Your stomach twists. "What does that mean?"

She doesn’t answer at first, just runs a hand through her hair. Her voice, when she speaks again, is soft but firm.

"It means I’ve been trying not to want this. You. For a long time. And it’s getting harder every day."

You feel your heart stutter. "Then why haven’t you-"

"Because we work together. Because it’s messy. Because you can't seem to tell me anything without having a drink first. Because you flirt with girls like her when I’m sitting right next to you."

"I- I wasn’t flirting really." You respond, meekly.

She turns to you again, blue eyes steady. "You were."

You sigh. "Okay. Maybe I was. But not because I wanted her. I was just—"

"What? Testing me?"

You blink. "No. God, no. I just… you've been ignoring me and I... I wanted to see if you’d care."

JJ lets out a sharp breath. "Of course I care."

That silences you. Not because it’s shocking, you’ve suspected for a while, but because of how quietly devastating it sounds coming from her lips.

She shifts closer, so close her knee presses firmly against yours. Her voice drops to a whisper.

"You don’t get it, do you? You’ve been in my head for months. Every look, every laugh. And tonight… watching her smile at you like she had a chance?" Her throat works around the words. "It made me want to punch something."

You don’t know whether to smile or apologise. So you fuck something else up and do neither.

"I'm sorry," You eventually find your voice, "I didn't think-"

Her fingers curl lightly around yours. But her voice is still cautious, cutting you off. "No, you don't think." She frowns.

You hold her gaze. "That's not fair, I've tried-" You hesitate as her eyes bore into yours, "I'm trying to figure it out but you're..." You hold your breath before bursting out with, "you didn't kiss me."

"What?"

"New Year's. And then you ignored me."

"Oh my god." She lets a small laugh out. For a moment, it feels like she’s going to kiss you right there in the booth to make up for it. Her eyes drop to your mouth. Your heart trips.

But then the bartender calls out last call, and someone bumps your table, and reality slips between you again.

She lets go of your hand - slowly, like it costs her something. Then she leans in, her breath brushing your ear.

"I’m going to walk you home. And tomorrow, when we’re both sober, we talk about this."

You nod. You don’t even hesitate.

Because this time, there’s no almost.

Just a promise.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

10.

You wake up the next morning, sober. You meet JJ at the precinct, ready. You will tell her the truth. You will talk about how you feel. You will be honest.

But first, the case throws some left hooks your way. You're thrown into chaos before you can really take a breath.

The city was a mess of sirens and shouting. You could barely hear your own thoughts over the cacophony, but you knew you had to stay focused. The sober talk with JJ could wait, must wait, for work.

The team was spread out, moving like a well-oiled machine, but the chaos was unpredictable, and your instincts told you to stay sharp.

Your pulse hammered in your ears as you dashed down the sidewalk, heart racing with the urgency of the moment. JJ was just a few steps beside you, her presence grounding even as adrenaline surged through your veins. Your eyes locked for a split second, an unspoken understanding passed between you, fierce and raw.

The world around you slowed, the sounds dimming to a distant hum. Her face was so close, breath mingling with yours in the cool air. You were so glad to have her in your life, watching your back. You could almost blurt out I love you right there-

A shout echoed from down the street, a teammate signaling a threat, a break in the scene. Instantly, you were pulled apart, both of you snapping back to reality. You took a step back, chest heaving, trying to steady yourself.

JJ’s eyes searched yours, full of something you couldn’t quite name, concern, maybe, or something deeper that hovered just beneath the surface. She looked away quickly, jaw tightening as if holding herself together.

You wanted to say something, to break the silence before it dragged on for another three weeks like last time. More fool you for not being brave enough to face your fears.

The adrenaline faded, replaced by a pounding ache in your chest. You moved away, each step heavier than the last. Now was not the time, not when there was still a killer out there. You needed to get your head screwed on properly. Focus.

You glanced back once, catching the same flicker in JJ’s eyes before she turned to follow orders.

The city’s chaos swallowed you whole again, but inside, you carried the weight of that almost - too close, too real, and yet still just out of reach. Not for much longer.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

11.

It’s quiet.

You’re in the incident room. The team is gone. Files boxed up, evidence logged, statements signed. Another case closed.

JJ is wiping down the board. She looks tired, her shoulders tight with the kind of tension that doesn’t ease with sleep.

You’re sitting at the long table, sorting through victim statements, not really reading. Just… touching each paper like it might make you understand something deeper.

It’s been a long one.

Too many kids. Too much loss.

You don’t know why you’re still here. Maybe you just didn’t want to leave her.

JJ glances over her shoulder at you. "You don’t have to stay, you know."

You nod. "I know."

She hesitates, then sets the marker down. "You okay?"

You almost lie.

You almost say yeah, I’m fine or just tired or been worse.

But you don’t. You've promised yourself that there will be no more lies.

Because you’re so far past pretending you can’t feel it, this ache, this exhaustion, this quiet, blooming thing between you that has survived every almost for so long it doesn’t feel like it’s hiding anymore.

"No," you say softly. "I’m not."

JJ nods like she understands. Because she does. Of course she does.

She walks over, sits across from you at the table. Close, but not touching.

"I keep thinking about the little girl," she says. "How calm she was. Like she’d already made peace with dying."

Your throat tightens.

"She didn’t even cry," you whisper.

JJ’s eyes glisten. "You held her hand the whole time."

"She reminded me of Henry."

JJ reaches across the table and rests her fingers over yours.

You look down at your hands. Her thumb brushes your knuckles. It feels like breathing again.

"I can’t keep doing this," you say, voice barely audible. "I can’t keep pretending I don’t love you."

There it is.

Not soft. Not careful. The truth, laid out bare.

JJ doesn’t speak. She just rises slowly, walks around the table, and stands in front of you.

She reaches down, cups your face in both hands.

Her thumb brushes under your eye, catching a tear you didn’t know had fallen.

And then she kisses you.

Not a rush. Not a crash. Just lips on lips, it's gentle and sure, like she’s kissing you the way she’s always meant to.

It’s soft. It’s sad. It’s everything you’ve both been too afraid to say for far too long.

You don’t move for a moment after it ends. Your foreheads touch. Her hands still cradle your face.

You whisper, "I thought maybe I fucked it, maybe we missed our chance."

JJ shakes her head, eyes closed.

"No. We just had to actually communicate. Who knew that was a thing?" She asks, sarcastically, a laugh breaking through.

Later, at her place, the quiet returns.

But this time it’s different.

You’re in her kitchen. She's in sweats, hair damp from a shower, bare feet padding across the tile as she pours tea for both of you. Her presence is warm, grounding.

She hands you a mug. Your fingers brush, like always.

But this time, she holds on.

"I love you," she says, just like that. No preamble. No fear. Just truth.

You blink at her, stunned by the simplicity of it.

"Say it again?"

She sets the mug down, steps closer, and cups your face again, that same steady way she did in the incident room.

"I love you. I have for far too long without saying it once. I’m done waiting."

You kiss her.

This time, it isn’t sad.

It isn’t haunted or hushed.

It’s real. Present. Alive.

You hold onto her like you’ve waited a hundred lifetimes to get it right, and maybe you have. You don’t need words after that.

Not right away.

Because her arms are around you, and you’re still standing, and this time, nothing pulls you apart.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reconciliation after accusing them

Request: OT13 reacting to their s/o wrongly accusing them reacting to their s/o wrongly accusing them was soooooo good...Authorrrrr, if possible a spin off where they reconcile plssss💝

A/N: Ah tysm for letting me think about them a little more bahah, I'm glad that part interested you to see more of what happened afterwards. Also, this was written while my friend was cutting onions and my eyes were extremely wet and I couldn't see at all.

Seungcheol: He lets you cry in front of him, his arms still crossed. “I didn’t need an apology,” he says, looking down at you. “I needed you to trust me.” But when you say that you want to start over with trust this time, he nods slowly, thinking about it. The relationship needs to be worked on but for now, he pulls you into his arms. “Let’s go on that trip.”

Jeonghan: You leave small gifts, texts, a hand-written note with “I never should’ve doubted you”. When he finally meets you again after a week(s), his eyes are unreadable to you. You don't know if it's the end of the relationship, or that he's here to pick and point at every little thing you misunderstood about him. Questioning his loyalty is definitely something. The first thing he said, “You still think I’m capable of that?” This time you stay silent, your lips trembling and when you tearfully whisper, “No. I just got scared,” he exhales and hugs you tightly. “You better not forget next time.”

Joshua: He plays your voice memo again and again, gaining the right mental state to face you directly. He felt bad for raising his voice at you, he's better than that. But you mistaking calmness for indifference really hurt him especially since he cares about you sm. When you finally meet in person, you both end up crying. “I never wanted to raise my voice,” he says, wiping your tears. “Im sorry for misunderstanding you... I just... needed you to hear me.” You wrap your arms around him tightly, nodding. “This time… I’ll listen better,” he says cradling your wet cheek.

Jun: When he sees you in front of his door, holding the lunch he never gave you, he says, “why now?” looking straight into your eyes but it's not warm anymore but replaced with ice. You whisper, “Because I forgot how much you love me.” He doesn't say anything, except for looking at you, maybe trying to read and understand how much you mean this right now because last time, you meant every word of the accusation. He recalls himself feeling like the villain and still waiting for you alone, not knowing where you are or when you will be back. He finally steps forward, rests his forehead against yours, and says, “Don’t walk away again. I’ll forgive you, but don’t do that again.”

Hoshi: You waited just like he asked. You waited for him for weeks and gave him the space he needed. You love him and you know he loves you back, but you did wound his hurt with that accusation when all he ever thought about was only you. So, when you hand him the same letter he once wrote—this time written by you, he reads it and you find his eyes tearing up. “I didn’t think you’d really wait,” he says. You take his hand. “I would’ve waited forever for you, like you'd for me.” You both spend some time in silence as he just stares, you add, “Im sorry,” and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Wonwoo: You left notes, apologies folded between the pages of the books. One day after days of silence, he texts: “Come over.” You find him holding the book you gave him, your note tucked inside. “I still want forever,” you whisper. He looks at you, long and takes a deep breath. “Then let’s start again.” It'll now take again to build what you two had, not that his trust and dream was broken but he wants to make sure, you have trust in him and dream about him, too. It's just sentiments coming out of you, so things need to be sorted out and start over. Things have never been about him in the relationship; always you—because that's what he wants. You are his dream and forever person as long as you reciprocate.

Woozi: You didn't find him at his place last time, but you did see him around a couple of times but never alone. Guilt was eating you out for not being able to talk and knowing that he actually protected you. You find him at the studio, headphones on, but he sees you instantly. “Did you bring more accusations?” he asks coldly. “No,” you whisper. “Just the truth. I love you, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, pulls off his headphones, and after a beat, says softly, “I just didn’t want you hurt. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Dokyeom: Dokyeom never in his life thought you'll actually misunderstand that. How could you? The only person he ever had his eyes on was you and that was obvious to everyone even for 17 miles away. You knock, voice trembling. “I didn’t mean it.” He finally opens the door, tear streaks still on his face. “Then say what you did mean.” You cup his face. “That you’re the kindest, most loving person I’ve ever met. And I hate myself for hurting you.” He pulls you in. “Please don’t do that again.”

Mingyu: [not really much to say since they reconciled in the first part]. He says while hugging you, “I felt like I wasn’t good enough. And then you made me believe it.” You hug him tighter, crying. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything.” He sighs, kissing your head. “Then make me believe it this time.”

Minghao: He shows up holding your Mandarin letter, “you tried. I see that.” You look up at him, afraid. “Did I lose you?” You expect a, ‘yes,’ from because what else could you look for? You proved that you don't know him, that you made him feel like he had to change himself for you. So he hesitates. “No. But I need you to accept who I am, not who you want me to be.” He doesn't want to sugarcoat. If a relationship has to be healthy, it needs to be honest too. You nod, tearful. “I’m learning. Please don’t leave while I do.” “Never,” is his response as he opens his arms.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan repeated your stinging words every night, praying that it was all a bad dream and that you actually didn't say something so hurtful to him, but it all came crashing down because it was reality. You wait outside his place, holding his journal close to your heart. When he sees you, you hold it out like an offering. “You try so hard, and I didn’t see it. But I do now.” He stares at you, torn. “Do you really?” “Yes. Please let me try for you now.” He finally nods. “Then don’t stop.” “Never will... I'm sorry. I love you.”

Vernon: You show up, breathless. “I saw your message. I’m here.” He looks at you, unsure. “Why should I believe you won’t do that again?” You grab his hand. “Because I learned I can’t love you properly if I don’t trust you. And I don’t want to love you wrong ever again.” He squeezes your hand back, hesitantly. Vernon wants to forgive you, but he’s still hurting. You accused him of cheating based on something superficial [that earring], without giving him the benefit of the doubt. That shook his sense of trust and made him question if you truly saw him for who he is: loyal, and private, he is still reaching back because he loves you. That’s him giving you a chance, even tho he's scared of being hurt again.

Dino: [He kinda reconciled in the first part but he told her to prove, so continuing from there.] You step closer. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll wait until you’re ready to talk. I’ll support you without asking for anything. I’ll stop belittling your feelings, you’ve always been more mature than I gave you credit for.” He doesn’t say anything, so you don’t push. For the next few days, you don’t beg or over-apologize; you just show up consistently, the way he always did for you. One night, after practice, he finds you still sitting in the hallway outside the studio. He sighs, then sits beside you. “Tgank you” You shook your head. “Because you matter, and I was wrong.” He then says softly, “I wanted you to believe in me. Like I believe in us.” You turn your head toward him. “I do now.” Now when he reaches out to hold your hand, there’s no hesitation.

[paintedonmyteeth]

Sukuna’s Fossil Ahh and Modern Tech/Internet

Having brainworms abt Sukuna losing his mind w how much stuff has changed over 1000+ years since the Heian era and reader having to explain things to him fbskfbwksbdn. THIS IS A FIRST I’M WRITING STUFF FOR SUKUNA BTW I’M SORRY IF IT LOOKS TERRIBLE BUT IMMA PUT IT OUT AS IS, I didn’t edit much of this either, so if you see anything funky no you didn’t— Anyways if y’all did like this tho I got reqs open for Sukuna :)

⭑.ᐟ — It’s been GOD how many years since the Heian Era, the golden age of jujutsu sorcerers, Sukuna’s prime where he reigned the the strongest of them all. So much stuff has changed since then, and it’s both baffling/maddening how different everything is in this age. The city was a lot bigger, transportation was faster, newer technology, etc, etc… and there’s very few things left that still remain from Sukuna’s time.

⭑.ᐟ — Boredom was a bitch at times when Sukuna had nothing better to do, but then he remembered you helped him out the one time how to work the computer (he still struggles at times but he’s learning). Why not go for a scroll on the internet???

⭑.ᐟ — Is he doing this purely out of curiosity at this point? No. He’s lying. He just wants to see how far humanity has fallen over the years leading up to the now. His exposure to the internet were 'trends' or slang terms, along with a bunch of other things he found confusing and stupid, (it was also making him question why he thought it was a good idea to explore the internet). And NOW begins the slew of questions from the King of Curses the next morning…

⭑.ᐟ — “What’s rizz?” Was the first question to kick off the morning with Sukuna. You just about choked on your coffee and you carefully set your mug down, looking at Sukuna all funny, who’s just staring back at you, arms crossed and all serious. “Close your mouth, you look like an idiot gawking at me. Just answer the question.” It took you another hot minute to finally gather your bearings and you explained the term to him.

⭑.ᐟ — Now finally understanding this new term, Sukuna’s expression immediately turned up in disgust. Why the hell do humans need to go out of their way in creating a whole new term for flirting?? People these days really are strange.

⭑.ᐟ — And with each question answered about these trends or slang terms, Sukuna’s perspective on humanity wasn’t swayed by any means, and it threw more fuel to the fire if anything.

⭑.ᐟ — Despite Sukuna’s clear distaste for humanity, he wanted try and learn a little more anyhow. Such as your interests in certain shows, music, and other favourites you consume from the internet more specifically. Besides everything else he hated from the internet so far, he liked listening to your rambling, seeing your eyes light up and your personality coming out more when expressing your favourite movies or whatever else. Even if he didn’t understand half of it, he just loved hearing your voice.

⭑.ᐟ — But don’t ever make the mistake in throwing those god awful internet slang words around him, he will look at you all funny like you just insulted him indirectly.

[kozachenko]

Behold, my Touhou Project Inscryption Au that I started working on before all the stuff with Touhou 20 went down. Mainly finished this so I could get it out of my head lol.

No one asked for this. No one needed this, but I have free will and this is how I choose to use it lmao.

Artist's Notes;

Full disclaimer I have never played Inscryption before, I have only seen gameplay videos going through the entire game and have watched lore recaps, analyses, and videos on it. I do still love this game though and want to play it someday.

I remember it was during one of my many rewatches of Markiplier's Inscription playthrough (The Flying Uryaruli never gets old, plus they're kinda comfort videos lmao) that I thought of the dumb idea of "what if Chimata was in it?" and thus this idea was born. My initial concept of this was "the devil added microtransactions to his game" (bonus points if you understand that reference), which then evolved into "what if Megumu, Tsukasa, and Momoyo were the other scribes" which then evolved into me thinking way to fucking hard about this idea and deciding to swap out those three for other characters to be the scrybes. I'm sure you can tell who I chose for the new scrybes based on the cards (it's Zanmu and Keiki), though I did leave a hint as to who would be replacing which scrybe in this AU (hint, look at their health and attack line's, Keiki's attack is 1 btw it just got covered up by Zanmu's card). That part will probably become clearer as I develop the concept more (which will probably come in a long while) but in the meantime I'll explain the abilities more.

So I decided to adapt the cost into coins because in my mind, Chimata would focus really really hard on the collectathon trading card aspect. In fact, I imagine that in the beginning of this AU she's say something like, "and if you collect all of the cards, you'll be able to find a special little promo code in them. For what exactly? Well where's the fun in me telling you that now!" As I wrote in the image above (for those who can't read the font it says, "Balancing isn't exactly my forte, so some of the cards I gave you in your base deck have a 50/50 shot of being trash or stupidly overpowered!") Chimata probably doesn't care for the balancing and mainly wants to oversee the exchange in ownership with trading cards. I know characters like Nemuno or Ubame fit Leshy's vibes more but Chimata was kinda the progenitor of this idea and I think it would make more sense for her to care about cards so much so yeah lol (also there is a specific part in Act 1 of the game where I think Chimata's theming with the moon in Stage 6 of UM would work really well).

Also, in this AU, Sumireko would be the protagonist who runs a lost media Youtube channel where she discovers the cartridge with Inscryption in a similar way that Luke did in the OG game.

As for the effects on the cards, I'll go over them briefly:

Zanmu's sigil would negate the effects of the opposing creature's sigil, I was initially gonna give her the "if an opposing card attacks this one, it doesn't" sigil but decided that would be too OP and went for this idea instead.

Keiki's sigil basically functions like the warren sigil in the original game, where upon placing her down on the board she gives the player a free Haniwa card (which would be 1 attack 2 health and no cost). For obvious reasons I think this fits Keiki pretty well.

So the main purpose of this AU isn't to be 1 to 1 with the game's characters personality-wise (for reasons that will become apparent if you know who Keiki is substituting for) but in terms of theming I did try to think about who would fit best (other than Chimata but again, she's kinda got special treatment since I just though the idea of her constantly pulling out microtransactions to get herself more faith or trying desperately to convince Sumireko to get another person to play the game so she has someone to trade with would be funny). Visually this will also look different from Inscryption because...ain't no way I'm replicating that and also I want to use this as an oppurtunity to let myself do harsh lighting because I love doing harsh lighting in my drawings :D

Again, this is going to be an ongoing project of mine that is mainly gonna be shitposts like this. As you can see with the drawing I did not care about rendering the metal scale much and focused more on getting the shading on Chimata right. I also changed some things about her design and added some stuff, mainly changing how her dress pattern works, added some shoulder ornamentation to her cape, and gave her some nice big golden sphere earrings because I know she'd wear something like that.

Not the most proud of this piece (I finished this at around 10:30 at night so I was kinda eepy finishing this up) but for a shitpost, this is really all it need to be tbh.

[moonstruckme]

hiiii and congrats! luv this game sm!

secrets in the dark...can I request wolfstar & B, E, K, R, & W! (sorry if this is too many, you can pick and choose, I just got too excited!) x

Thank you angel! Absolutely you can :)

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

Sirius is absolutely not letting either of you sleep alone ever. Even when Remus doesn't want to be touched very much getting close to the full moon, he has to relent to you all still sleeping in the same bed and you and Sirius just leaving him plenty of space, because Sirius will not stand for it. I think Sirius is clingy and likes to curl up whereas Remus prefers to lay flat and/or be the big spoon, so most of the time I see reader and Sirius sleeping on either side of Remus or Remus spooning Sirius who's spooning reader (though reader and Sirius could swap in that scenario, but I think Sirius would love to be in the middle)

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?

Sirius is definitely the one dragging you and Remus out most often, though to friend events instead of family of course. I think if anyone is dragging them to family events, it'd have to be you

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners?

I think Sirius and Remus really balance each other out in this way—they're perceptive, but in different ways, and they also both have their walls up but handle that differently. Sirius is very quick to pick up on any shifts in mood and/or tension and he'll just call you on it, whereas Remus is more likely to notice if there's a change in your behavior and I think he'd normally give you a chance to bring it up on your own before doing it himself, far more tactfully than Sirius would. They also both have things they'd rather not discuss; Remus will avoid these at first by being quiet and then by stating outright (sometimes angrily) he doesn't want to talk if pushed, whereas Sirius is a master of dancing lightly around anything he doesn't want to discuss and laughing it off, so that no matter how hard you try you'll never get him to be serious about anything he doesn't want to get into. However, they're also both skilled at breaking through each other's walls, and with enough time with them I think you'd learn to do that too

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

oh I mean both of them but Sirius most obviously for sure. He looooooves showing you both off and being loud about how much he loves you, and Remus feels the same but prefers the quieter gestures

w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

they're both pretty insecure about their worthiness of love and care. remus is better at hiding it; even though sirius puts on the biggest show about being so confident, that sometimes makes his self-consciousness about specific things more obvious. however familiar with insecurity sirius is himself, it boggles his mind that anyone he loves would ever doubt themselves, and he wants to have very frank and fervent discussions whenever one of yours comes up. remus, on the other hand, is more understanding, and will try to help you in small ways before broaching the subject in a gentle, compassionate way if that's not working; he understands that most people can't be convinced of their worth in a single conversation, whereas sirius is so downright shocked you could ever think that to begin with that he's sure he can fix it quickly

[towasdandelion]

HIII HELLO IM HERE AGAIN I LOVE UR POSTS TOO MUCH WHDHSJDJJS EVEN THO I FEEL LIKE A MAN WITH TOO MUCH AUDACITY WHEN I SEND AN ASK 😭😭😭

may i request for sinostra and vagastrom/frostheim for the when you get injured during a mission without them 🙏🙏🙏 the first part was too good I NEEDD TO SEE IT WITH ROMEO AND SHO OR JIN HEHEHEHE

OFC TAKE UR TIME NO RUSH!!!! THANK YOU USER TOWASDANDELION ILY PLS DONT EXPLODE 🩷🩷🩷🎀🎀

Hi there (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) Thank you for reading my work!! The requests exist for a reason so it's all good hehe. Also don't worry I'm not planning to explode anytime soon! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡ I still have too many smaus to write after all hehehe. Well, I hope you like it!

Sinostra and Vagastrom when you get injured during a mission without them

Romeo got just a little bit angry. He threatened told the ghouls to keep you safe and this is what happens? And to top it off you were trying to hide it from him? Girl be ready for a long rant when he sees you. And it's better not to interrupt him. That's just his way of showing you how much he cares. He won't accept any excuses and will actually try to punish the ghouls who were with you unless you literally beg him not to. He swears he won't be this merciful next time though so... Good luck.

Taiga will literally laugh at you I'm sorry. I mean, he did care enough to at least ask if you're safe right? We can't expect too much from this guy. It's not that he's mocking you anyways, he just genuinely finds it funny how you always manage to come back from a mission with some kind of health issue. Won't make a huge deal out of it but won't leave you alone either. Expect to be carried around everywhere in every single position he can think of. If you try protest he might actually break your crutches so just let him have his fun for a while...

Ritsu is a bit confused until you clarify that his Intel wasn't faulty. But wait, that actually doesn't help clear things up. You're partners both in work and love so why hide something like that from him? He's not angry, just doesn't really understand since he always makes sure to emphasize that you can rely on him. Anyways. If you want to sue the ghouls for failing to protect you - just say a word and he'll have all the papers ready. No? Well at least let him sue the Chancellor for always putting your life on the line?

Leo is another one who will laugh, but this one does mean to mock you... Seriously just how reckless can you be? Through this behavior he's trying to communicate (very miserably) how upset he is with you. He would absolutely hate it if something really bad happened to you. He wishes you weren't so agreeable and easygoing and thinks everyone is just using you.. Once he's done laughing at you he will come over and laugh at you in person. Just kidding. He will bring you Sho's food! Surprise, I guess he still does have a soft spot for you.

Alan worries about your safety a lot on daily basis, he can't help it that he sees you as a very fragile being (even if you're not) so the news about your injury puts him on high alert. He hates seeing you in pain, but he also hates when you're hiding things from him. You don't need to act tough. He will always be there to help you. So what if he does the same? Ghouls are more durable he says. He will be extra gentle with taking care of you until your leg fully heals.

Sho won't hold back from scolding you but he will make sure not to be too harsh. Upsetting you is not his point after all. Somehow he's not entirely surprised you came back injured though. He knows your role comes with risks but wishes you wouldn't have to bear it. Well, at least you can count on him absolutely spoiling you with his cooking during your recovery! Will probably come live with you like it's the most natural thing in the world. Don't let Leo find out or the little shit will get jealous.

[consistencynevermether]

Hello!!! I saw that did so much works on vere and I love all of them,they are the best vere fics!!! I love how you characterize vere and make him feel so in character.

And if you're still taking requests, can you do a headcanon or fic being in a relationship with vere or maybe doing a fic about a confession between vere and the MC. Like who would confess and how it would happen.

Anyway, have a good day and no pressure about doing this request if you're not up for it. You been doing such a good job of all your fics, and you're my fav vere x reader writer!!!! <3

Asidhasjaisdhflkasdh thank you, the fact that some people really like my silly lil vere fics means so much to me! I try to write Vere as in canon as possible, I'm so glad that comes across! I decided to do something a little different than normal and do headcanons instead of a full fic. Thank you for the ask! :D

Vere relationships headcanons:

The core of a romantic relationship with Vere would be based on loyalty and understanding. Vere would have to 100% trust you would never sell him out, or leave him (I feel like he lowkey has some trust issues left over from whatever situationship he and Ais had going on)

Despite how secretive he is, once you get into a relationship with Vere, communication is key. He needs to know the big things, like what the two of you will do once you're both free. Do you want to stay in Eridia? Get revenge on those who fucked you over? (he's a big fan of that one.) Start a new life somewhere with just the two of you? All options.

I think Vere would find himself willing to stay in Eridia, at least as a home base. At first, he'd just want to burn the synovium to the ground, not caring what happens to the surrounding city. But if you want, I think you can steer him away from that. He won't admit it, but there's few things he wouldn't do for you. Not limited to, actually giving a shit about this soggy marsh people dained to call a city. You had friends here, it was one of the safest places for humans, and he had memories with you in this city. All reasons he could find ways to think fondly of Eridia. 

He also wants to know about the little things, like where you're going or who you'll be meeting with if it's someone he doesn't know. There are a few hints in the demo that Vere is a “fell first” kind of man, and he holds onto the people he cares about tightly, only letting a select few get close. He's not trying to control you, he knows you can handle yourself. Despite this, you're still human. If something does happen to go wrong, he wants to know where you are and who you're with, so he can come find you if need be, and kill whoever is stupid enough to try and hurt you.

Speaking of other people, how many people know about your relationship will definitely change over time. If you start off together before he's free from the Sinobium, nobody can know about your relationship. Ais at most. But after he's free? You're going to have to physically stop him from making out with you in front of the Abbess. If you really don't want everyone to know, he’ll respect that. But if it's up to Vere? It'll be the most obvious thing in the city, and he has three major reasons for that

One: his pride. Once the Sinobium loses its control over him, he's free to be as chaotic and wild as he wants. What better way to say fuck you to the Sinobium by making it clear you and him are an item now. They wanted both of you for their little experiments, and now they get neither. 

Two: his nature. Vere naturally seems to gravitate to being a touchy person, even in public. Its not intentional, its instinct. He cant help that his tail wants to wrap around you, or that resting his head on your chest feels so nice. So even if you ask him to keep it on the down low, itll be a bit of an open secret.

Three: safety. Once again, you're a human. No matter how strong you are, how clever, how impressive your magic, how good your foresight is, there will always be a certain fragility to being a human that will always haunt him. Even if you're the strongest person around, one dagger into one of your vital organs, and you're gone, just like that. But if people know you're with him, then there will be an understanding; messing with you is bad for someone's long-term health. Specifically, their ability to keep breathing. 

Speaking of human fragility: absolutely not. Vere is not the type to just accept he only has less than 70 more years with you and thats it. He will not “carry on” or “find the joy in the world they left behind” or any of that bullshit,. He will find a way to make you just as immortal as he is; he will not be left behind again. Don't go dying on him, because he will drag you back from hell if he has too. 

While your home base can be Erida, Vere does want to explore the world again. Go back to the places he used to haunt, see new sights, anywhere that lets him know he's truly free of his chains. If you don't want to come along, he's 100% fine with that; he appreciates his alone time just as much as you do, but he definitely wants you to join him for a few trips. Now that the two of you are together, he wants you to know every aspect of him, all the good and bad parts. And trust, he absolutely wants you to do the same. It's fine if there are certain things you don't want to talk about, you can't keep secrets like your curse from him, not while in a relationship. 

A/N: i hope yall enjoyed! I had a few headcannons about vere confessing but i wasnt really sure wether to go tragic or humorus with them, so i decided to leave them out. Maybe ill go back to it one day lmao. Make sure to stay hydrated yall, peace out ✌️!!!!

[mtcloudsworld]

What do you hc your jason to look like

Anon has requested what my HC would be for Jason and I didn't think much about doing one myself but now that I've got some ideas in place, it's a pretty lengthy hc than intended😅 Warning: I did make the reader more personal than expected, I kinda got lost in the sauce and was having way too much fun with it. It is black!fem/college!reader based HC because that is what I can relate to.

I can understand if most of you won't read it cause it's not generalized but I just really had fun placing my personal life into a reader who may relate to what I've gone through in some way (hopefully that made sense 💀)

Tbh, if you can relate, you can relate. If not, then my apologies. This was just a really fun thing for me to do and think about. But it's not like I can't do another one so 🤷🏾‍♀️ with that being said, enjoy!

Please ignore any errors. Like, comment and reblog

─☁️

𝐽𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑑'𝑠 𝐴𝐵𝐶 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆

۫ ִ✶ ࣪ Warning | nsfw/sfw, +18, mdni, black!fem reader, college student, boyfriend!Jason, husband!Jason, friends to lovers, black!fem reader is described in the way I want, if you can't relate that's okay. I just found this to be fun to do and imagine, plus!size reader, curvaceous, introverted!reader, wifeblackfem!reader, sweet! Jason, protective!Jason, dom/sub, mentions of insecurities, trust issues, trauma and abuse, losing v card, intercourse, marriage

𝐽𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑑'𝑠 𝐴𝐵𝐶 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑠

𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒 ; 𝑚𝑡𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 ; 𝐼𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

𝑨 = 𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒

Sometimes your independence can get the best of you. Actions speak louder than words though and best believe you don't have to ask Jason to do a damn thing because he's already ten steps ahead.

Oh, the dishes are already taken care of? Sweet.

Oh how sweet, he did the laundry this morning!

*Sniffs the air* is that... Alfredo I smell?

Oh yeah, baby, Jason's got it all taken care of. There's no reason to fret, no reason for you to get frustrated or stressed to the point you want to pluck your braids from out your head. He follows through with his word. If he says he's gonna do something, consider it as if he just signed a contract with his blood.

Despite trying to receive practical support, you can feel the trust in his promises through and through. He shows up and shows out when you least expect it. And it's not like you ask him to do these things or, once again, expect him to do it because he's your boyfriend. No, in your mind it's your responsibility it's your shit to deal with, not his. Understand he does it because he sees your struggling, he sees your stress and cares for your well being. If you can do it with his problems best believe he's gonna do the same for you.

And you grow to love that about him. You love that Jason goes out of his way to take care of you, especially as a full time college student working the night shift who has studies almost every single day? It's a relief to come back home and see the apartment spotless, opening the fridge to see food ready to be eaten, and a text message (that you failed to look at) list the things he did while you were away.

Now you're not one to be emotional but best believe you may have felt a tear or two slide down your cheeks while mentally yelling, OH MY SHAYLAAAA, MY SHAYLAAAA!!!

He's attentive, boo boo, that's his specialty. He notices every little obstacle in your way.

And please don't think he doesn't love the fact you can take care of yourself, because he does. Oh, he is more than happy that you have self reliance, but he's here now ── he's present. Asking for help doesn't make you weak, it doesn't make you a bother. In fact, it lets him know you can trust him. You trust him to do these things for you unconditionally.

"Thank you." The book is forgotten the moment you slip yourself on top of him comfortably. You feel the deep rumble beneath his chest as you lay your face against his pec. The book is marked and placed on the floor. Bulky arms engulfing you into a bear hug. Your body laxes and your mind goes mush. The feeling of his face buried into your braids, leaving kisses to your crown while massaging the nape of your neck, makes everything around you grow peacefully still. "No need, baby. I got you."

𝐵 = 𝐵𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡

He loves you. Every part of you, sexually and nonsexually of course. But if he had to choose his favorite body part on you, it'd be your thighs.

Mhmmm, those thighs. Those beautiful sexy thick thighs of yours? They just do something to him.

The size of them? Their perfect. Perfectly perfect for rh size of his hand to grope on. His hand practically occupies most of the space. The way he squeezes it, how his hand effortlessly slips between them to feel your warmth and allow his thumb to caress and sooth over your soft bronze skin, makes him feel so laxed. It lets you know he is feeling some type of way and just need you're attention for good, hot, minute.

I mean how could you deny them? They're so plump and plush, and the way your stretch marks adored them really makes him salivate at the sight. He loves how your legs effortlessly reach for him with the quickness, when you want his attention, when you want to talk to him, have eye to eye contact, wanting to crave him. Your determination drives you to wrap them around his waist, pulling him back and trapping him between your lucious thighs. You watch with a smirk how his eyes widen at the gesture, bringing yourself to wrap your arms around his neck and push your tits against him. "Where do you think you're going Mista?"

Most importantly, your thighs never fail to suffocate him when you sit on his face. He loves to smother himself into your skin, allowing his rough veiny hands to caress up the gentle parts of your body, groping at your ass to push your cunt further down for more.

It's safe to say, you're content to know he could die happily by them.

For you, it's not necessarily a "body part" but a part of his body. It's his voice. Like how he is with your thighs? It's the same way for you with his voice. The deep raspy baritone in his voice every time he calls you mama or mamas, baby or dollface makes your panties soak. His moans, whimpers and groans, ugh!! When he's being flirtatious and needy with you he has a way of being charming and cocky with you but also there's a tender side of him that makes you fall deeper.

You're proud to know he's comfortable showing his skin, whether that's walking around shirtless in only sweats or basketball shorts. He can approach you in just a towel with his hair soaking wet and tussled knowing that you wouldn't judge him of his scar or the huge Y at his torso. You practically gleam when he gets out of bed after a moment of intimacy with you to stretch his limbs showing off every aspect himself to you in the naked eye.

Nothing, preferably you liked him in nothing. Why? Because that body of his was made by the gods themselves, Lazarus pit or not. In a bashful yet proud way, he's happy knowing that you love how massive and bulky he is compared to you. At first he wasn't used to the shower of compliments and praises, he didn't know how to take it all. But the more he opened up to you, the more he grew to love your crazy obsession for him.

His autopsy scar beneath your lips isn't bothersome as you litter kisses over his chest, appreciating every little thing about him. Cyan eyes observe how you maneuver yourself between his legs. Hands wrapping delicately around his thick cock, he stiffens a little as you start to kiss along the underside of his cock, slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, you feel the way he twitches at the palm of your hand. "It's okay baby?" Heart eyes gazing up at him for approval. He hums in response, reaching down to cup your face, brushing his thumb along your cheek to feel the tender texture of your velvet flesh makes his heart beat faster as a rush of excitement runs through him.

You start to tease him at first, leaving open mouth kisses at the base, dragging your lips up the underside of him to then lick and suck at the beautiful blush colored tip. You gradually invite him into your mouth. The warm embrace of your mouth engulfing around him makes your cheeks hollow. As you take him little by little, stroking him in the process, it brings his body into deep euphoria. Head lulling back into the pillow and eyes flickering close, a deep throat moan is heard as he feels your hands placed at the center of his thighs. "Mm, shit. Such a good girl for me, mama." He praises with sultry, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as you bob your head slowly. "So sweet for me. Such a sweet girl. Just know how to treat me..so well-- f-fuck." His eyes flicker shut, listening to how you suck him off tenderly at the tip before allowing your tongue to swirl round and around and around, "Mm, take me baby, take all of me. Fuck, that's it mama, show me--ugh, show me just how much of a good girl you are. Uh huh, that's it baby, go faster for me. Yes that's it." He whimper moans at the way your mouth messily deep throat him, slopper starting to roll down to his pubic hair where you then go to deep throat him.

He groans as a wave of pleasure runs through his veins, you sense the way his hand rests at the top of your head, using you as leverage to start deep fucking your mouth. He hears and feels you start to choke, your throat closing in on him just in time to feel his seed. You pull away breathless, observing the mess you made give his dick a pretty little shine underneath the limelight. Jason runs his fingers through his hair shocked by the short amount of time you made him cum. Though he didn't mean it, you didn't look at him with judgement or disgust. Nah, you looked to him with pride, bringing yourself to straddle on top of him and give him a passionate wet kiss. He groans at the feeling of you welcoming his fat cock to your needy soaking hole, shared juices playing as lubricant for him to slip right in you. With ease, the girth of him stretches you out more and more as you start to bounce back on him.

𝐶 = 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

Communication with Jason was... rocky at the start of the relationship. Especially when he was hiding his past and the fact that he was Red Hood. He knew if you got caught up in the mix of all his mess that would not only be detrimental to you and your safety but also to your shared relationship. Although he didn't want to hide this major part of his life from you and lie about every little thing, he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't lose you, that would be the death of him.

Then again, It was infuriating having all these unanswered questions left untouched.

And Jason knew you weren't stupid, you were attentive to the things he said and the things he does. He could see it all over your face. You're a very patient woman, always slow to anger with him. But that night in particular? The way your face twisted bitterly with worry and frustration in your eyes while you dabbed the alcohol covered cotton ball against the cut along his cheek. He dared to lock gazes with you.

No words are shared but he can see the hesitation, the wanting to furiously question every little thing, to argue and force him to tell you what the hell is going on.

But you don't.

Instead you sigh, bandage his cut and stand up to throw away the rest of the trash.

Your quiet. Too quiet and that's never a good sign. But you chose to be knowing if you argue with him it'll drive a wedge between you. And he hates it. The overwhelming tension and silence in the air, he hates it. He hates how distant you are. He hates how the bridge keeps growing longer and longer the more he dodges your questions. Because when you turn to walk away, you feel the firm yet tender grasp of his hand reach out for you. Pleading for you to come back, he pulls you into his embrace-- and you cling to him like a vest. Like your life depends on it. and he can't help but bury his face into your hair, telling you, "Please, please understand it's not that I don't want to tell you because I do. I just..." Sigh, "I can't risk it.* You feel his arms hold you tighter. *I can't risk losing you because of it. I can't bear the idea of you getting hurt by it. I just...can't let anybody know about you. Not yet." Not his family, not his friends, not the world or his enemies, could know a thing about you. He couldn't think of the worst possibility of someone finding out.

And after a moment of silence, you break.."I just want to be aware, Jason, I don't want be blind sided by whatever this is" your voice is shaky, so soft, so...broken. like the walls of Jericho falling at his feet. Your guard is down, allowing your tears to wet at his hoodie and it surprises him. He's so used to seeing you tough, being able to handle things without breaking down. You're never this emotional. Never this intense to the point of crying, and you hate crying, you hate showing your vulnerability. You hate being this intense about the situation. But because of your trauma, because of your past, the empty promises, hidden secrets and lies it's gotten you to this point.

You care and it shows in the way you fight with him about this. The way you fight with him just shows he's always on your mind. "I just.." you're trying not to cry, your hand clenching at his hoodie as you bury your face into his chest. "I just wanna know you're okay that's it, that's all I ask."

He groans internally. "It's not...safe. there's a possibility I could get hurt, to the point of death. It could make me go radio silent for months upon months and then come back acting like nothing had ever happened, it could become triggering for me but I know I need to do it."

There's a silence. A silence that has your mind spinning and you'll pull away, take a moment, bat your soaked lashes at him and say, "and when that happens? Can you give me a sign? A text or something to let me know of these things? I won't ask you, I won't... force you to tell me until you're ready but for the sake of my mental and not being left in the dark, all I need to know is that you're okay or that you're gonna be gone for awhile?"

His jaw clenches and he nods in consideration.

I love you endlessly.

The first time you saw that text it made your world stop. Okay, it's happening. It's..time.

A shared phrase, a shared promise, a shared code. He's gonna be gone for awhile but best believe you're the only one he's coming back to.

You eventually find out near the brink of death who he truly was. The worst time to find out but because you were his emergency contact someone had to know he was okay (Which some would find weird since his family was there with him but when shit hit the fan and he has no other options.) You were the only person to call when he found himself in a pickle. When he couldn't tell you himself what's going on. You had the right to know the whereabouts of your lover.

Your mind was swirling when you found out Bruce Wayne was his adoptive father, that Dick Grayson and the rest of the bat family were all his siblings that happened to be the most famous vigilantes in all of Gotham.

You stood before him, laid in bed unconscious with a heart monitor, IV bag attached to his vein and any other machine to make sure his body doesn't crash, feeling nothing but relief, confusion and worry.

"He talks about you ya know?"

"I didn't know, any of it, I swear I didn't."

Bruce nods in understanding. "He has his reasoning, all of us does. Its not your fault. It just comes with the job. However, we're glad to know he has someone other than us to rely on. You clearly care, if you didn't you wouldn't have rushed down here crying and asking what happened.

"I love him. I wouldnt want this for him but I do understand. I understand that this is just part of his life and that I have to adjust."

"ya know you don't have to. You have every right to walk away. It may hurt but we understand."

Your jaw clenches at the idea, walking away? After everything you've been through? Not a chance.

"I can accept this."

"Can you really?" Damian asks, moving to stand beside his father. "Can you really accept the fact that one day his life will be on the line? That you and your future may be in danger because of it? Can you really be that stupid to stand here and say you can handle any of this?"

"If it all means being by his side, cleaning his wounds, hiding his identity, hiding your identity-- taking care of him through and through, yes I can handle all of this." Your answer was serious as you gazed back at the youngest out of all of them, "If you love someone that much you'd do just about anything for them, wouldn't you? I would. I would because he deserves to know someone is in his corner, waiting for him at the end of the tunnel, he deserves that much support no matter what."

Bruce and the rest didn't say much more after that.

You stayed at the manor majority of Jason's time of healing. He wasn't exactly happy about it but talking your way out of it was no use. You were as stubborn as a mule.

Alfred and Bruce made effort in taking you to campus and picking you up after work. You made some time getting to know the Wayne family for who they were. You'd let Alfred take a break from caring for Jason as it had been a minute since you last saw him.

And after dressing his wounds, you'd feel him reach up to twirl a braid between his fingers grasping your attention. A small smile plays on your lips. Your fingers reach over to brush the white strands from his face before proceeding to caress at his cheek. "How are you feeling?"

He grunts, pondering in thought as glances over himself. "Like a bus ran me over ten times over." His humor was dry, but a smirk still appeared onto his lips when hears you stifle a laugh. "Yeah, well next time? Maybe look both ways before crossing okay?"

"Hm, duly noted."

You shake you're head with a smile pulling away to throw the trash. You come back and sit on the side of the bed gazing over his healed face. You notice how his face grows serious. He gulps, brows knitted as he's now in deep thought. He looks to you with hesitation, wanting to say a lot but don't know how.

"Y/n, I--" he gulps, lips parted a little. "I..I don't know what to say. I'm sorry I really am I just─" his lips twist to the side. Trying to find the words to say but can't bring himself to. He's frustrated with himself. Frustrated that it came down to this in this way. It's all out of fear. Fear of losing you. Fear of losing this relationship. Scared that you might reject everything because of his lifestyle

"Don't."

Your gazes lock. You give him a reassured smile, allowing your fingers to entwine in comfort. "You don't have to tell me now. I'm not expecting an explanation right off the bat. For now, just heal and rest, please?"

He was hesitant at first but nods, placing a kiss at the center of your hand.

𝐷 = 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠

Jason was a nervous wreck when he asked you out. He thought he was supposed to show off and what not but really you were simple and subtle. You found it cute when he'd make a fool of himself, giggle when he'd say something stupid. You'd hold onto his arm, strolling down the sidewalk after leaving the restaurant and tell him I really had fun tonight, it was sweet, but please don't think I'm the kind of girl who loves all that fancy shit. I mean it's gorgeous don't get me wrong but I'm not into all that.

Dates with you were never difficult. If Jason had planned something ahead of time, you were usually satisfied. If he didn't, you're indecisive, unsure of what you want. Jason would start listing things, anything that sounds remotely good or he'll suggest a new restaurant or whatever and that usually goes well.

You're not the kind of girl to go to fancy restaurants where you have to dress up, drink wine, where the chandelier is dazzling approve you, and ballroom music is playing in the background. You didn't need all that expensive shit, y'all had enough of doing that at Bruce's galas.

It wasn't you and it wasn't Jay either.

A good ol' family diner, Italian restaurant, bowling, seafood or soul food spot, movie theater or drive in theater, Korean restaurant etc was just enough to get you out of your norm. For more quieter spaces such as a cafe or a library where it's subtle and cute was more up your alley.

There have been a few times where you'd spend your time on the fire scape and watch the sun set on the horizon or stargaze in each other's arms.

And if you weren't ready to end the night, a good ol' ride around the city became the cherry on the top.

"You so cute," Jason coos, smirking from ear to ear, "such a Tatortot." Your eyes roll playfully and your lips smack at the annoying ass nickname. Although you hated it you couldn't deny the burning along your cheeks and the meekness on your face when he pulls you into his embrace. With a cute pout your head turns to the side as you sway from left to right, "Mm, you know you love it." Listening to him speak sweetly to you, you feel how he kisses up your neck, leaving lingering kisses to your flesh while he drags his nose along the underside of your jaw, smelling the scent of strawberries and vanilla through his nose. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...I love you too." You say before feeling the deep baritone of his chuckle beneath his chest.

𝐸 = 𝐸𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

Neither of you knew what you were doing. Neither of you were experienced. You were both virgins at heart but your minds were anything but innocent, body yearning, body wanting. Both equally attentive, nurturing and loving. Y'all learned through and through how to take care of each other's bodies like a temple.

The closest thing to anything remotely sexual was masturbation and oral sex. Undoubtedly you both craved for it, wanted it, needed it beyond what you were used to. At first you took things slow, gentle essence with grace, no need to chase the high when both of you wanted to enjoy the expanse of bliss running through your veins.

𝐹 = 𝐹𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡

It might take y'all some time to cool off.

You're a very patient woman who is slow to anger, you're not quick to assume but sometimes your thoughts want to lead you to it. And once you're at that point, it's hard to snap back out of it. You need to collect your thoughts and come back with a sound mind. You can't talk to Jason when you're angry because you may say some unnecessary things, your voice may get loud out of anger and feeling like your patience wearing thin.

And after you two are able to sit down and talk like adults, I can say you are quick to apologize if you're in the wrong and quick to forgive if he's in the wrong. Undoubtedly you hate being mad at each other for so long but there are times when you just need space.

If there was ever a time Jason were to get mad at you, I can imagine Jason being the same way. He doesn't like raising his voice but it can overpower you. Just because he's mad and you aren't on speaking terms doesn't mean he's gonna stop caring for you. He's not gonna stop watching over you when you head back home from work. Tracking your every move. Making sure your drinking enough water, eating, resting, taking breaks in between studies. He's still gonna do the things he needs to do, kiss you on the cheek and tell you that he loves you before leaving.

𝐺 = 𝐺𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑

This man is your protector through and through.

Tracking devices, security systems and weapons of every kind is much needed when dating a vigilante, you are bound to be protected at all costs. He can't risk losing you to foolishness, can't risk you getting hurt. As Red Hood, he watches over you nightly, jumping from rooftop to rooftop he makes sure that you are home from work safe and sound. I'm telling you this man does daily check ins to make sure you're good. Jason is definitely the type to live, die, and breath by you. He'd jump in front of a bullet, a car, a moving train just for your safety. He's just that reckless when it comes to you and although you hate to think of something so damaging, it's the reality of his world.

𝐻 = 𝐻𝑎𝑖𝑟

I could imagine Jason being so caught up with his own shit he'd forget to care for himself. He's not worried about himself right now, he's worried about cracking this damn case. Now that he has you, he makes sure he's got a nice shave and clean cut. As far as pubic hair goes that's really up to you, he doesn't really have a problem with that. You do love the happy trail that leads into his pants, especially when he's shirtless and just wearing a pair of sweatpants. Mhmmm.

You barely grow hair. Your friends call you a hairless cat because you never had to shave your legs. Every girl you've come across was all astonished and jealous of you because of it. They were so smooth like butter, and glossy and moisturized as if you had just shaved. It would explain why Jason has an attraction for your thighs/legs. They're like velvet, they're just so soft to the point he wants to bite them. You barely got hair under your armpits─ you shave them every once and awhile but it's not distracting.

Your curls can be a lot to deal with but you love to wear them out naturally. It's not often you get your hair braided but when you do, Jason can't help but to get all smiley with you. He can't help but to look, (with permission) touch it. He even goes as far as to educate himself with asking questions about how long it takes, how they fo it etc etc etc. The same way you look at your man when he gets a nice cut, is the same way he looks at you, gorgeous and yummy. You always make sure your hair looks good and stays good before it's time to take them down.

With pubic hair, you personally love it clean, if not a clean shave you love when your hair is cut low. Jason doesn't necessarily have a preference. As long as you keep yourself clean and squeaky, he doesn't care.

𝐼 = 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑦

Intimacy started with innocence and uncertainty. Equally unsure of how this should go. Insecurity came to play and then doubt and hesitation. Both of you had to learn. Step by step. It had to take time. Sweat and tears, effort and patience. Acknowledge each other's likes and dislikes. How to be cared for. How do they like to be kissed? Are they dominate or submissive? Do they like to be overpowered? Overstimulated? Do they like it rough? Slow? Hard? Fast? Etc etc etc. Undoubtedly it took time. Your kinks and all weren't really discovered until later on in the relationship when communication and trust was solid.

It just depends on the timing and mood. You can equally be playful. A painful tease. Turn role play into something deliciously nasty. Due to trauma and abuse, some kinks are experienced more than others. Consent is always key no matter what.

Jason's a switch so he can be rough and possessive, delicate and sweet when he needs to be.

You're assertive and blunt, and most times that kind of takes Jason off guard. You come when he least expects it but it keeps him on his toes and he likes that. He likes how mischievous you can be, how your words can be as charming as the moon, how your eyes constantly look at him with love and hunger at the same time. You care for him with confidence, you know what ticks him off, what drives him insane. You have a mouth on you, but he knows how to handle it, how to punish you.

Though, you can also be submissive and shy.

You haaaate your submissive side, though.

Those are the times you're sexually frustrated and need him to do unimaginable things to your body, it's rough and unforgettable. It leaves your body spent and slumped afterwards.

It's the side that's too shy to ask for it after weeks or months of not getting any. It's the side that Jason adores the most because you are your most purest. The side that wants to be told you're a good girl, that you're doing so well for baby. The side that wants to be clingy and babyed. It's also the side where you're the most compliant, agreeing to almost anything that remotely makes you feel good and cum ten times over. This side doesn't really show until later on in the relationship, after all the tension and rocky moments together have passed. This is the side he loves to lavish on.

Blame it on ovulation if you want, but these are the times─ if you're not careful, where you might get pregnant. You're so desperate, so in tune at the idea of being breeded, of having his cum deep inside you that the consequences aren't really thought of afterwards.

It's the time when you haven't really craved for it in awhile and it just...suddenly hits you. It hits Jay too, but sometimes he's not really thinking about it because he's so deep into his missions. He doesn't neglect it though. Like I said he's very observant, very attentive. He can see it all in your eyes, the way you look at him, stare at him, glare at him─ you're practically fucking him with your eyes. He doesn't do things to intentionally make you a soaking puddle but he does. The way you act. You're like a helpless prey. You're not yourself, even when he touches you your body flinches but you yearn for it. He can tell you're just acting funny yet he's waiting for you to say something. Admittedly, Jason feels the same way too. There are times when he sees you just sitting there innocent minding your business, you're doing school work, stressed out, cooking─ doesn't matter what you're doing he just wants to ravish you. Shower you with praise and worship, fuck you like there's no tomorrow.

The poor boy is starving!

He's more forward than you are, he's asking you to tell him what's wrong, is there anything you need? Is there something he can do? The tension is there and he's on you immediately, begging to hear those sweet sultry words fall from your lips. Begging for you to just say it as plain and simple as 123.

Undoubtedly he's fucking you with no breaks in between, from sun down to sun up. He's fucking you so good to the point that you're crying and sobbing into the sheets, you're pleading for him, desperate for him and only him, you just want him to do his worst on you in the most softest way possible.

You're your most loudest, poutest, whiney moans that are high pitched and whimpering like crazy. This side has a chokehold on him the most because he has you in the palm of his hand.

Undoubtedly sex can make you feel like you're most rawest. You feel bare emotionally, physically, and mentally. You're souls are connected and senses every right and wrong thing about each other.

The aftercare is top tier, five star. Talking through what just happened makes you both feel more open, amenable and vulnerable with your emotions, mental state and well being. There's no hiding the tension, no secrets of any kind─ it's just rapport

𝑱 = 𝐽𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦

I'm very iffy with this one because you don't really go out much outside of school and work, barely like people as it is so it's rare of you to be at bars/clubs or parties of any sort. I feel he wouldn't be jealous, moreso protective. You're not that kind of girl, so the idea of him being jealous is pretty low. He knows you’re loyal, so there's no reason to be jealous when he already has you. The most he’ll do if he’s jealous is wrap his arm around your neck, pull you in close, cold exterior while glaring at the other person, letting them know that you're obviously taken and going any further would be a big mistake

You're not gonna talk to anybody that's not Jason, point blank period.

Same goes for jason, however I feel like the situation with him would go like from him declining them the first time right? Telling them "Hey I got a girl, back up off me." And if they keep pushing up on him, not getting the obvious. He'll chuckle dryly, knowing in the back of his mind that they're playing a dangerous game and that you're not too far from seeing what's going on. "You might not wanna do that, lady." And if she still aint getting the hint. Best believe you're ass is gonna give it to her. Because no means no, what part of that do you not understand?

𝐾 = 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔

Kissing you is like the heavenly flood gates spreading wide open. Kissing you is like a nice massage on a good tuesday night. Kissing you is escapism. Kissing you is listening to the blues under the midnight moon. Kissing you is like wedding bells chiming in the background. Kissing you is like all his problems melting away. Like the world stops spinning. Like time is of the essence but theres no rush through it. Its loving, its tender, its delicate, its gentle-- its a moment to forget everything but you. Though his cheeks may burn, his heart may flutter and body yearn, kissing you is a craving--an addiction he can never let go. Public PDA might not be his forte, but privately? He kisses how he fucks you, possessive and suave, warm and needy, dominating every sense of you. Kissing you gets him love drunk. It's just enough to gain a radiant high from the heavens.

𝐿 = 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒

His one and only true love. His only exception. The only constant in his life that makes him feel like a good man, that makes him feel worthy of it all. You had a drive, a curiosity, a determination that turned him on. He doesn't talk to anybody else, doesn't show his vulnerability to anybody else and surely doesn't pin someone's home as his safe haven when he's hurt from patrol or just need time to get away from everything── you, you were his only exception.

He couldn't pretend like the feelings weren't there. It struck him like a nerve, like a cord the day he realized. It was sudden, it was quick, it was hard to be nonchlanat when you were standing here looking as good as you do.

His resolve disappeared the moment he leaned over to place a kiss to your lips. Full and juicy, they lingered with love and moved leisurely. He wanted to make sure you felt and tasted every part of him, made sure that this wasn't just any ol' kiss. It meant something. Something so meaningful. Something so out of his norm that it was hard to explain it all in one setting.

His actions were subtle but intentional, and as your lips departed, bodies still close, clinging onto each other. Your faces were still so close, to the point of nudging your nose against his, hood eyes gazing into each other's, there was a pause, a second when things just became...still, "I love you." he breathes, gulping nervously, hands gripping you tighter, scared to let you go. Your eyes flickered up at him, internally shocked.

"I--what?" He stands his ground, "I've...loved you for a while now. Wasn't too sure how else to tell you without being a nervous wreck but.. I do. I love you more than you think. And I know it may be difficult to believe or you're just not ready for it, but I felt you should know."

It takes a minute for you to register everything. For a smile to come on your face, to see the flirtatious yet teasing gaze in your eyes as you pout and coo at him, "You love me, baby?" Your arms move upward around his shoulders feeling yourself melt into his embrace. His hands drifting past your lower hips, making you sway from left to right, smirking like an idiot. "Mmhm, I love you, I love you so much, princess."

𝑀 = 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 (𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚.ᐣ)

Weekdays; If Jason is lucky, he's usually home before you're awake. Gets himself a quick nap in before cooking you breakfast, preparing you some snacks and lunch for the day before waking you up. You're not a morning person, you hate getting up so damn early!!! You're a night owl at heart, it's hard to go to sleep at a reasonable time, so he has to get you up two hours before to get your body going and what not. Some hugs and kisses, maybe a quickie here and there before dropping you off at campus. Weekends; are your only time to be lazy, to sleep in late, have brunch, take a break from any and everything (and thats only if you don't have upcoming exams) otherwise you're spending most of your time with either Jason, Wayne family and or your friends.

For Jason, insomnia is a bitch. He tries to come home at a reasonable time (and by reasonable, i mean the lastest could be 2 o clock in the morning, but once again it all depends on his missions ya know?) but that never happens so sleep for him is off and on. On rare occasions, he's usually his best when he can sleep for a good 8 hours or so. I could imagine him being a snorer, loud or not. the kind to slot himself up against you and bury his face into your neck as he holds you tight at night, making sure he has that body to body contact helps him feel laxed and know that you are with him safe and sound.

𝑁 = 𝑁𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠

Nicknames for you: ma/mama/mamas, suga plum, buttercup, doll or dollface, baby, sweetheart, princess, tatortot (he uses this when he's being playfully annoying with you, it's funny to see you deadpan at him because you know he's targeting your height), hot pocket (comes into play when you have an attitude or your getting a little snappy at him), babygirl

Nicknames for Jason: pookie, baby, honey bun or bun bun (use this when you want to get something from him), sugar daddy (this is used to be playful, flirtatious, to watch how his face gets all red and shy but he always comes back with something so smooth and slick. It's meant to be funny but you think Jason honestly takes it seriously, in a good way ofc), mi amor, darling, Mista peaches because why not.

𝑂 = 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛

Like I said before at the beginning the relationship was still rocky because Jason was hiding his secret as Red Hood. It was kinda hard to be honest about everything, but when he told you his true lifestyle you took it to heart, and both made a vow to stay honest with each other from there on out. No more lies. No more secrets. Just being bluntly honest about everything, which neither of you had a problem with.

𝑃 = 𝑃𝘩𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐𝘩

Publicly, PDA isn't too extreme. Y'all are not the average couple where you're constantly on each other. Being by each other's side-- knowing when your presence is near is, in your defense, just enough for you to feel okay. Holding hands in crowded areas helps with your anxiety (the idea of being claustrophobic and people touching you unwillingly makes you cringe and feel icky afterwards.)

Placing his hand on your thigh when you're nervous or anxious (you tend to bounce your knee unknowingly), lower back hand placement-- another way to give you comfort, especially when his fingers slip beneath your shirt and drift over your waist to pull you a little closer, hand kisses, a kiss to your temple or cheek-- it was all just enough for the public eye to see.

Privately, the skin-to-skin contact is a must. Kisses and make out sessions are a must. Bear hugs and cuddles is a must. Feeling your hands run through his hair and scratch at his scalp is enough. Giving each other massages is a must. Big spoon, little spoon kinda love. Making time for each other, communication is a must, just sitting in each other's presence is all that's needed.

𝑄 = 𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒

No distractions—just genuine connection. Deep, meaningful discussions. Doing something enjoyable together, like cooking, playing games, reading together, taking long walks in the park or just simply laying on the couch with your back against his chest, hands entangled, his face burired in the crown of your head playing light r&b music in the background. Times like these you cherish the most, no ones rushing to get anywhere, the time is slow and love is just dazzling in the air.

𝑅 = 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠

Spoiled rotten. Both of you-- moreso you, but definitely both. You'd give each other the world, moon and stars, hell even the galaxy. Jason isn't one to ask nor beg for anything because he feels he doesn't deserve it but you give it to him anyway because he does. Same way with you, if you even as look at something for so long, or you wanna buy something from amazon or at a store but you know you can't because you're a broke college student and can't afford shit-- more than likely he has already bought it for you. He always buys your favorite snacks and small little gifts here and there.

"Baby? What's this?" You ask coming over to sit close by him with a pretty cute gift bag in your hand. "Oh, just a lil sum sum for your hard work. Plus, i thought you might like it." He says resting his arm on top of the couch behind your head. He gives you a moment to open it. Watching as your smile turn into a pout as you pull out the gift makes his heart flutter. You turn to look up at him, "You spoil me too much." you expressed sweetly. Jason chuckles, shrugging like it was no big deal with a smirk on his face, "Hm, you deserve it baby. But i believe a 'thank you' would be much appreciated." Your eyes roll playfully hooking your finger over his chain, pulling him down to give him a few kisses before pulling away, "Thank you, mi amor, I love it."

𝑆 = 𝑆 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑎𝑑

Snacks and cuddles are all you ask for. Venting about it helps a lot. consulting and comforting you is the best. He lets you have your moment, whether angry, sad and happy, he lets you have your moment because feeling emotions is valid, you're able to feel how you feel.

Jason is really good at communicating his feelings with you. Sometimes he'll try to push it off to the side but he knows that won't work in the long run. So having you by his side with a listening ear, catering to him makes him feel content. He just needs to know someone is there for him, that he won't feel belittled or judged for feeling the way he does.

𝑇 = 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛-𝑜𝑓𝑓 '𝑠

Lying, broken promies, secrets are all the reasons you have trust issues with people. I mean, look at the people you have in your circle. Not very many huh? It's the same old story; you've gotten your heart broken way too many times to count. You've witnessed abuse emotional and physical and so opening up to people is very difficult on your part. If you don't like their vibe, or they betrayed you in any type of way. You're cutting them off or ignoring them immediately. Don't even bother asking them to be friends because the answer is no.

We all know Jason ain't the one to follow rules, he despises people who claim to stand for justice but act selfishly or cruelly, wary of people who try to control him or others. Loyalty is important to him, so if you betray him in any kind of way, he ain't taking it lightly. Ain't shit funny about that. He has little patience for people who are all talk and no action, back it up with some proof please, he dares anybody to do so. Lastly, when it comes to you, you're off limits, anyone hurts you, speak to you rudely, touch you nonconsensual-- they're a dead man walking.

Neither of you take any disrespect, discrimination or threat of any kind, don't even think about crossing that line.

𝑈 = 𝑈𝑛𝑖𝑞𝑢𝑒

Your determination and independence is what sold him. You have enough excitement for taking risks just like him. You rebel against the rules every once and while. You're the kind person who knows they have the authority and power to do something for yourself. You don't need anyone's approval for anything. When you want something, you work hard for it. It'll take blood, sweat, and tears but best believe you're gonna get it at the end of the day. The freedom you have over your life. No one else can decide your shit for you, only you can. You're the leader of your life.

His loyalty is what makes you feel secure. You don't ever have to wonder if he's on your side or not, if he's with you and for you. He's proven himself time after time that he's with you till death. He's here and ready. He's willing to do just about anything for you. You've never had someone this down bad for you. Never had someone willing to hold you down. He loves you through and through and wouldn't do anything to betray your trust.

𝑉 = 𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦

Personally you hated the size of your tits, the pudge of your stomach, your back rolls, the shape of your nose, the gap in your teeth. You just...uggggh ─ had a hard time accepting yourself for you. You're a curvaceous girl, thick in all the right places. You'd believe that you're holding up the most space because of your wide hips. Try to scrunch yourself up as much as possible. In Jason's eyes he doesn't see it that. I mean you take up most of the space in his heart but that's to be expected, that's suppose to happen. You take up his love and mind, you live rent free. He loves every part of you. He loves your gorgeous skin, your curls, your wide smile and the gap between your teeth. You're gorgeous in so many ways. He loves every inch of you.

Now I'm not saying you'd have any operations done to yourself unless there was a medical reason to or you want to lose weight, he's gonna love you regardless. It's not his body to control. What makes you happy will make him happy.

Jason was always insecure with his appearance after the Lazarus pit. Everything about him changed. He always avoided looking himself in the mirror because he just wasn't the same, it's not him, he feels like he's in someone else's body. Stolen someone else's image. He didn't feel attractive, he didn't feel confident in his own skin. It had to take you telling him that he was handsome for him to slowly approach the obvious; that he was a great looking man, sexy as hell. There was nothing wrong with him, scars and all. The shape of his build, the way he towered you like a sky scrapper. The way he could pick you up effortlessly making you feel like a feather.

𝑊 = 𝑊𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

Mr. And Mrs. Jason Todd got a nice ring to it don't it? The day you and Jason decide to get married, it's gonna be subtle and small. Nothing to extragvant but a few of your shared friends and family members will witness this happy moment. I'ma tell you the reception is gonna be chiefs kiss, on and poppin'. The day you both say I do and move on to the next chapter, is the day you will move into your shared home. Somewhere a little safer. A home built from the ground up with security all around. Somewhere closer to your job so that way your not driving miles around. Things are gonna be set in place for when you two are ready for kids. It might even be the time when Jason won't be a vigilante for too long. For when he wants to stay home most of the time with the kids till they've grown up and gone to still and be able to take care of themselves. For when they get spoiled and babyed by everybody. Oh yeah the married life is gonna be different fasho.

𝑋 = 𝑋𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑝𝘩𝑜𝑛𝑒 (𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔.ᐣ)

Mona Lisa by J-Hope

Soft Spot by Keshi

Her light by Cleo Sol

Stan by 6lack

𝑌 = 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 (𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.ᐣ)

"Fuck I've missed you so much." He's breathless, hands roaming all across your body groping at the parts of you that made you feel sensitive. "You missed me baby? I can tell the way you're saying my name. Listen to you, so soaking wet." Kisses and love marks are spread all throughout each other's body. And as he crawls himself back up your body. Slotting himself between your legs his dick slides in your pink milky hole, thrusting in and out─ not waisting any time to feel you squeeze around him, clothing him with your warmth and sucking him deeper till he reaches your pillowy cervix. He's cursing underneath his breath feeling like a fish out of water. Your nails digging into the expanse of his back, whining his name as he fucks you so deep and slow. You gasp bucking into him more. "Fuck you're so deep. So fucking deep." you whimper, tilting your head to the side feeling his face bury into your neck. His hands were settled on either side of your head gripping the sheets, his hips swiveling into your pussy with need and greed. You spread your thighs wider, invitingly wanting him to bottom out. You feel sticky and hot, unable to control the hunger that strives you both to bliss. Begging for him to go fast, to dig himself harder. He's fucking you like a damn rag doll. "Mm, cum in me baby, cum in me baby please! I wanna feel it. I wanna be filled to the brim─ s-shit!" You're crying at this point. Tears streaming down the side of your face as you tilt your head back into the pillow. He growls, jaw clenched as he gives it to you ruthlessly now, still so fucking deep. His hips begin to stutter after a while, slamming himself into one last time to feel his dick shoot his warm cum into your womb.

You both can't be far apart from each other. It's a recipe for disaster yet it's the best time to crave for each other. Your touch starved and in need of attention. It's hard when he's on his missions because he can't contact you and you can't contact him until he's in the clear. So those times when he's back him standing in front of you, neither of you will be coming out of that bedroom anytime soon.

𝑍 = 𝑍𝑧𝑧

Having you cradled up in his side clinging to him like a life vest with the scent of each other being the last thing on each other's mind is the best sleep either of you could ever ask for. Being secure in the confines of his arms feels like home. It feels like love. It feels like even the world couldn't disturb you no matter how hard it tries.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[o-wise-corvid]

The yearning that is Maul, man. I hurt my own feelings sometimes with this guy.

Say he achieves the impossible and finds himself wanting to be legitimately affectionate with someone. He values them. Respects them. Understands consent. But behind all of that, Maul understands who he is. What that must mean to a person who isn’t him.

He can’t do this. He wants this simple thing, just a touch of affection, brushing a hand over someone’s shoulder, holding their hand… an embrace is something he’s seen in holos and books and it looks… lovely to nestle one’s hearts near someone and be held in their arms… but it’s entirely out of the question.

He’ll have to ask first. And to ask, will be to admit wanting. And to admit wanting, it will mean expressing his own desire to someone else. This isn’t a desire for power or prestige or even things. This is a vulnerable desire to be close and to be touched, to be made soft by the hands of another. Not only does Maul not know how to verbalize such a thing, but even if he figured it out, the nature of who he is and who he has been will make such a request come off as a threat, a demand. Not that it absolutely would; this is how he perceives himself.

And whoever this person is who’s gotten Maul to this point? He wouldn’t want to do that to them. The amount of love and affection that it would take to bring that man to this place emotionally would be incredible. So if he wants this, he REALLY DOES love them. And if he loves them, Maul couldn’t bring himself to demand such things of them.

They of course won’t reciprocate willingly because how could anyone perceive him as anything but a living, breathing threat? They’ll do it out of fear. And for once, Maul doesn’t want to be feared. He wants to be loved.

So he’s frozen. He can’t ask. He can’t have. And he’s starved. It aches like hunger in his bones to simply be loved. Just for a moment. Please. But it’s impossible. And that one little moment is like having a drop of water on your tongue in the middle of the desert. Nice but more…

When they are near him, the urge to lay a hand on their back, fix their hair, just the smallest of touches, is impossible to ignore. So he crosses his arms, folds his hands behind his back, something, anything to leash himself and keep himself from betraying this person so terribly. He uses terms like “leash” and “bridle”’with himself often; Maul isn’t a person. Maul is a creature and the person or people who he finds himself wishing to be close to can’t know how fragile and wounded he truly is, so he uses impersonal, careless terms even in his thoughts.

His coldness toward himself is a shield.

Because even if Maul did work up the nerve to ask, to express a want… he’s repulsive to them, he knows he is, even though they smile and seem to enjoy his presence sometimes. Even if they reach out to him. Even if they express softness toward him. It can’t be real. If he allows the same, it’ll ruin everything; he won’t even have this false affection and it’s… it’s admittedly better than nothing.

(You add the layer of this person not liking touch at all and oh God the man HATES HIMSELF for wanting something he knows aggravates this person so badly; he’s so evil and rotten for wanting this. Self-harm would probably come into the picture here; how can he consider what he feels to be love AT ALL when it is something this person hates so very much and it’s all he wants? There must be a punishment. He must teach himself to shut this out. He will deserves to suffer for this.)