#maybe a longer one where we see him come for you

[th3secr3th1story]

Hello!!! I was wondering if you could write geto and gojo (you write them soooo well!!) getting a call from reader and she’s is walking home alone and feeing unsafe/ got away from a scetchy situation? When reader calls they immediately come pick them and then ends with some fluff/comfort? Maybe college au? It’s really specific but it’s a but self indulgent right now after the week I had (not a good one haha)! Anyways it’s ok if you don’t write it but I’m a sucker for fluffy comfort! Love your writing!!! You will def see more requests from me in the future <333

gojo - getting a call from scared/unsafe reader

it has been...SO long. i dont even know if youre still here, sorry :( but ive finally logged back onto this account and opened up my inbox to see some asks!! woohoo (hopefully staying active for longer now)! also, i hope youre ok, this req seems a lil personal :( stay safe out there guys

summary: you're on the way home from a party when you notice a man behind you following you home. instinctively, you call your boyfriend to come pick you up. college au, hurt/comfort, angst turned fluff, detailed descriptions of being followed so just beware

words: 1602

is he seriously still behind me? you worriedly think to yourself as you speed up your pace down the street. it was the end of a rough finals week, with exams ferociously following each other back to back. your friends invited you out for a few drinks that friday night, marking the end of the stressful exam season. not being one for parties, you were a little cautious to go out, unsure if you'd even have fun.

"why don't you just stay home with me?" gojo pestered you earlier that evening, pulling on your arm pleadingly.

"we can order out, put on a nice movie, and stay in bed," he whined with those big pleading eyes. he peppered kisses all over your face, trying to reel you in with his comforting presence. you let out a pleased sigh, almost giving in until you remembered the reason you weren't staying home in the first place.

"excuse you, satoru, but you couldn't do any of that. you still have that damn final paper to finish. did you already forget how hard you had to beg your professor for an extension?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow at his pleading look.

"i can multitask," he replied with a wide shit-eating grin.

"biggest lie you've ever told me," you retort, giggling out loud as he continued to kiss all over your face.

"just stay home, please," he pressed one final time, knowing deep down it would be better for you to get out of the house. he'd have you to himself later, after all.

oh, how you wish you had caved in.

the sound of feet shuffling behind you snaps you back to the present, stomach jolting as you swear they begin to get closer. you can almost imagine satoru next to you right now. he'd be glaring daggers into the mysterious man behind you, protectively pulling you into his side as he shielded you from any potential harm. in fact, you doubt any creep would be willing to get within fifty feet of you with gojo by your side.

where could you even go? the shitty bar your friends dragged you to was far away from campus, prompting a 30 minute walk on the way there. it was fine getting to the bar, considering the daylight, but you were seriously regretting not pairing up with a friend on the way home. gojo even made you promise to get back to campus with a friend, knowing that the area around the bar was shady. god, he was going to be so mad at you when you got home. if i even get home, your brain thinks before you can stop yourself, sending another jolt straight to your stomach.

hands shaking, your fingers fumble for gojo's contact, which is already starred in the emergency section of your phone. you tap his name as quick as you can, subtly walking a little faster as you wait for him to pick up.

he answers before the first ring finishes; his cheerful voice almost makes you think everything is okay again.

"hi, baby! i am so glad you called, this is the most wonderful distraction from my paper. what's up? did you have fun tonight? you haven't fallen in love with anyone there, right? i'll kill them all. i swear to god, if this atrocious paper is the reason the love of my life breaks up with-"

your words silence him like a knife.

"satoru, please come get me," you murmur into the phone, keeping an eye on the man behind you, who was inching closer and closer since you had left the bar.

he calls out your name sharply, all excitement from earlier gone. you swear you can already hear him gather his belongings.

"are you hurt? are you alone right now? why didn't you walk with a friend? what happened?" his questions fire off rapidly, concern seeping through the phone.

"no, i'm not hurt. yes, i am alone. all my friends who went with me live on the other side of campus so it didn't make sense for me to walk with anyone. sorry. i decided to just walk home alone but ever since i left the bar there's been this guy following me," you blurt out as quiet as you can. after a moment, you add, "i'm scared, satoru."

the other end of the phone stays silent for a few moments, and for just an instant, you worry that he wasn't really coming to get you at all. that he decided you weren't worth it. that he was about to hang up. of course, all of those fears were dispelled the second you hear his car engine roar to life.

"i'm coming to get you. i have your location, so just focus on staying with me for now, okay? i'll be there soon, baby. just stay with me. you'll be okay," he huffs out, unsure of whether he was trying to comfort you or himself.

"i don't know what to do, satoru," you weakly mumble out. "there's no public spots near here, just brick buildings and random empty lots."

"just keep walking, baby. you're doing everything right; i'll be there soon, i promise," he reassures you despite his strained voice.

over the next few minutes, gojo continues to repeat these small phrases back to you, nearly reaching prayers. he doesn't spare you from any you're doing great, just stay with me, or everything will be fine, chanting these gentle commands right into your ear.

you are nearly certain now that the man behind you is closing the gap between the two of you, and your mind starts to race. what if you didn't make it home tonight? what if just a few hours ago was the last time you'd ever see your wonderful boyfriend's face?

just as you feel the unknown man step up right behind you, gojo comes driving down the street, slowing down just a little as he honks his horn over and over again as obnoxiously as he can. both you and the man behind you jump, head spinning to see where the noise is coming from. gojo continues beating down on the poor car horn, staring the man straight in the face with a look so murderous you had never seen before. the man stiffens up, turns around, mutters "fuck this," and books it back down the way you came.

despite the looming threat now gone, your body still trembles with fear as adrenaline courses through your veins. that was close, too close.

you don't notice gojo park his car. you don't notice his large strides as he rushes over to your shell-shocked figure. you almost forget he's even there until a tall body slams into you, gripping you with all his might.

air fills your lungs the moment gojo pulls you into his arms. you barely feel his hands running up and down over your body to make sure you weren't hurt. you simply grip onto his shirt and hold him as close to you as possible. as the scent of your lovely boyfriend fills your senses, you finally take your first deep breath after nearly an hour of pure fear.

"i got you, baby. everything's okay," he whispers into your hair, relief flowing through his body. to be honest, gojo didn't know what he was about to stumble upon when he arrived at the scene. on his way over, his mind was thinking up every scenario possible. the assailant on top of you, you on top of him, or even your body-

no. there's no need to think about that possibility, gojo reminds himself. especially when you're standing right in front of him, perfectly safe.

"i don't know, satoru. i was so scared. he kept getting closer and closer, and i just kept wondering what would happen the moment he reached me. i was thinking of breaking into a sprint, but of course i'm in these stupid fucking heels and i obviously wouldn't have had time to take them off and run. and god, i just kept thinking about you. what if i-"

gojo only holds you tighter. you bury your head in his shoulder, muffling your soft cries as your tears stain through his shirt.

"you're okay, sweets. i'm here now, and you're perfectly safe. we'll head home now, yeah? we can order some food and watch a movie, just like i said earlier. how does that sound?"

unwilling to show your tearful face, you keep your head buried in his shoulder. instead, you mumble out, "did you finish your paper?"

you can feel gojo smile, despite the fact that his shaky hands are still wandering all over your body.

"obviously not! i can't possibly focus without you next to me. what do you say we get out of here and head home?"

you feel a laugh bubble up in your chest.

"yeah, sounds good."

before you can open the car door, gojo grabs your hand and once again pulls you into him. his joking facade chips away as you hear that same strain in his voice. he lets out a long sigh into your hair before speaking up.

"i'm so glad you're okay, baby. i was really worried there for a second," he whispers, voice cracking near the end.

"i was okay because of you, 'toru. thank you for picking up."

"always."

he presses a long kiss to your forehead and then pokes at your side, laughing at your surprised yelp.

"let's go home!" he calls out, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you towards his car.

you grin.

[cloveroctobers]

I know you’d kill | bo chow x poc!reader

A/N: I’ve been going back and forth deciding if I wanted to give writing for Bo a try and I’ve read a few up here that are real good so I thought why not? Sat down and ended up with this 🩶

WARNINGS: Reader is half Choctaw and black! Language, Bo & Grace are engaged, ignorance, hints at discrimination of interracial relationships & others trying to place you into one box while being mixed race, & I think that’s it?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

You knew he’d kill for you.

From what you could remember as a little girl, the small amount of time you spent with your imafo (grandfather) and the remaining tribe of your mother’s side of the family, you always remembered the stories of not being caught outside once the night fell. That there were blood feeders that roamed the earth when the sun tucked itself away. It wasn’t much different living with your auntie and uncle from your daddy’s side, who demanded you live with them once you were old enough (to be with your “true,” family), away from Neshoba county and out to Clarksdale.

When the sun went down, that also means you were meant to be inside. It’s one of the reasons your father was killed so young, you were nothing but a toddler then, him making his lengthy journey to you for your fourth birthday but the battery of his sister’s car cut off on him. You didn’t learn that suspected truth until some time after sixteen, always dreading birthdays for years to come for some reason.

There were always reasons.

“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be out here by your lonesome,” his voice drawled out from behind you as you stopped tugging on your leg that wouldn’t budge from being caught underneath a log.

You had no business being out here tonight.

Wasn’t even going to come out and didn’t even budge when Stack shit-talked you while you ventured off into the back of your auntie and uncle’s shop: Patch and Glitz to grab more fabric for the twins, hearing from behind the curtains that Bo was considering doing the honors of asking you to hang with them for a night to feel truly alive. “Nah, now you know it’s past her bedtime. Fuck you thinkin’? Ain’t your main lady supposed to be on your arm?”

“I dunno, maybe you should ask Mary which arms of yours she likes best. Oh wait…”

Which made Smoke smirk as he puffed on his joint, counting some bills. This was the usual banter between the two, although Stack was his left hand, his blood, Bo was also the best source of friendship, someone Smoke trusted, a real one that felt like family. They’ve been around each other since they were teens so a friendship like this wouldn’t just fade…even if it has been seven years!

You’re lounging on your side, your breathing hitching as your head turned over your shoulder to see Bo lurking in the dark. Right away you knew that wasn’t Bo, your Bo—if you could even say that, shit you still would, regardless of the fact that he was arranged to be wed to someone his family wanted him to be with.

Grace was her name.

Bo was yours first.

It was his eyes.

They weren’t that same dark chocolate warmth you glared over at when he tried to get you riled up, easily dodging your whacks and twisting up your wrist so they fit just right around his waist. Laughing into your face as he had you stuttering now.

His eyes were no longer warm, they were reflective like a flash of a camera before settling red. It was unholy to witness and you could feel a chill crawl up the back of your spine.

“Stay right where you are.” You hiss, still holding onto your throbbing leg.

Bo stood underneath the moonlight, appearing pale opposed to his natural olive tone. That same skin that melted just fine against yours once upon a time. He raises his hands but slowly starts to whistle, strolling forward and not staying put.

“What’s the matter TT?” He uses his nickname against you, referring to the way you always used to wear twin tails, “Weren’t you comin’ out to see me?”

You huffed, pushing at the log, as if you haven’t tried that before since you got stuck, “I was comin’ to see everybody and look where that got me.”

Bo hummed, “Took you long enough but you and I always secretly lived for some trouble.”

He walks over, making your heart rapidly drum like a ceremonial drum you always found yourself getting intranced with back in Neshoba. His hand briefly touched your shoulder, squeezing and even that felt cold against autumn’s Mississippi heat. Bo moves to crouch behind the log, peeking at your foot on the other side.

“Looks like that’s broken TT…but I can make it all better.” Bo peered over at you from underneath his lashes.

Growing tired you rest your bare elbow into the dirt. He revealed what you’ve already known, the sickening crack was the first thing you heard as you tried to escape this situation. The percentage of your odds were getting lower the longer you spoke with the shell of Bo Chow.

“I won’t ask on how you intend to do that,” you spit out, “But I already know my answer.”

Bo tilts his head to the side tsking, “Oh honey…I don’t need permission to take care of you. Especially now…but haven’t I always done that?”

As he says this to you, it feels as if the pain in your leg just shot up to your chest, where a single heart still beat in the night. “You’re not him anymore.”

Bo’s aware that you know.

Of course you did!

You’ve been afraid of the dark since forever. It was something that was probably instilled in you since you learned to walk. He knew you like the back of his hand and although he’s different now…he didn’t forget you. It’s your scent that brought him to you first, car long forgotten, Grace just a whisper.

Bo doesn’t deny this but says, “I’m still me where it counts.”

“Where?!” You exhale, suddenly angry.

Angry that this was his outcome. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! Bo deserved to live with the way he intended even if it meant in a direction that didn’t align with yours. At least you still had somewhat of a friendship but the minute it was decided he had to marry Grace, she made it clear that your time together wouldn’t be alone. Grace had to have known your history with Bo—they say first love’s always ache the hardest.

This wasn’t Grace’s fault…so you understood.

She loved Bo too.

Made that clear when she told you they were expecting and she would appreciate it if you allowed Bo to be a family man and not a guilty one. This was exactly fifteen minutes before Grace went back around the block to sit passenger side in Bo’s car. Whenever he made special trips, mainly to get more inventory or on his way home, Bo made it his mission to pass by Patch and Glitz, blowing his horn to catch your families attention before continuing on.

He sits on his knees, reaching over the log to cup your face but you recoil. Bo didn’t mind the chase, tightening his hold with both hands as they hold your face in his undead grasp, “I’m still me. I remember watching you dance by the creek barefoot while I played the harmonica. I remember you gushin’ over that blue artwork I would put on those notes I slipped to you every chance I got—whereas I thought it was no big thang. I remember racing you to the ice cream parlor on lunch break just to fight over which flavor was better. How you go on your rants about your auntie trying to get you to pursue straightened looks and you sneaking over and forcing me to use those brilliantines to make those pin curls look just the way you like. How you smell. How you taste. How I hated for you to hold back once I was between those glorious thighs. How you make me feel. Uh huh, still me.”

He left you stooped at that.

Like he always did and liked to tease, “Cat got your tongue huh?” He often liked to say when he knew he won the argument.

There was still a twinkle in his eye as he said this to you but the fact of the matter is…Bo Chow was no longer alive.

And that was devastating.

Shaking your head you quietly debate, “You don’t breathe the same.”

Bo poked his tongue inside his cheek, dropping his head for a moment but keeps his hands on you. The insects of the night continue to sing into the dark, unaware of the curse that sat in this very woods.

“‘Maybe,” his eyes flick back to meets yours, “But I still want the same.”

Scowling you try to move your face again but to no avail you answer, “What you had is back at the juke joint or did you kill her already too?”

Bo brings his forehead against yours, breathing you in, “I did say I’d kill for you once…so maybe this is the only way I get to keep you forever.”

And his lips are on yours.

There’s no warmth from his lips, no taste of citrus since apricots used to be the main thing he liked to snack on, no air from his end as your lips part, you can’t even process this in full. His mouth proves that he remembers everything. That you liked to be kissed slow before the energy surges. How he holds you so carefully like those fancy ceramic pieces his unfriendly mother kept stashed away in a cabinet in the dining room.

For a short moment you let your guard down as Bo kisses you like it’s old times.

You can hear your imafo speak to you in that tone that’s always teaching as you face planted into the grass at your attempt to herd the sheep, “The track of the sun across the sky leaves its shining, eternal message illuminating, strengthening, warming all of us who are here. It shows us we are not alone.”

None of that made sense then especially as a child…all you wanted to do was play rather than herd sheep but leave it to your imafo to get all spiritual on you.

With Bo’s hands shifting to rest against the back of your head, the kiss has turned desperate and aching, keeping you locked in to what once was. You feel it in the way he trembles—certainly not out of weakness but restraint.

“I’m sorry,” you hear him say after he pulls back to stare into your face.

Your eyes are half lidded, heart drumming like thunder. Your mind is spinning but you hear him and think he’s apologizing for everything.

For not fighting harder to be together.

Past the friendship.

There’s a lighting that rips through your shoulder blade, right above the old bottle scar, that made contact with your skin when the white men who had something strongly to say about many things as they harassed you and Bo on your walk around town. The pain is sharp and hot, sending you doubling over the log into Bo’s chest.

The trees rustle from around you, sweat drops from your kitchen, your vision feels as if you’re looking at a kaleidoscope, your blood burns in your veins, heart squeezing as if someone is taking your blood pressure right from that organ, throat gone dry, and you can’t do a thing but scream.

“She’s all yours lad. We are one.” A accented voice, European? Fast paced? Can be heard loudly against your ears but you can’t place who it belongs to.

Bo soothes you, letting you rest against him for a moment, “Don’t fight it. It’ll be faster this way…just hold on.”

He tells you as he manuvers to lay you back against the soil, staring up at the twilight as if you can see it clearly while your body spasmed. Bo does the honors of flinging the log from your broken ankle, before cradling it in his lap but not without putting it back in place.

You barely feel it.

He kisses the back of your hand, which makes your heart kick at his touch.

He smiles.

“Why?” You rasp out, clenching your eyes shut as the stars begins to shine differently now.

Tucking your chin, you glance at Bo whose eyes hold the death of the sun.

“I’d kill for you, girl. You understand?” Bo said to you as you sat in the stashed bed of one of Smoke and Stack’s many trucks in the bushes.

He’s assessing the blood that soaked through your shirt, despite the cuts and blood that’s already on his hands.

It was a miracle Bo didn’t land himself in jail but would later pay the price with the vandalism done to the store days later…

You managed to croak out, “I think you’ve been hanging out too much with Smoke.”

“Well not for much longer, sweetheart,” Bo laughs a little, “There’s talks of those boys headin’ out to Chicago.”

You’re holding your breath now, hand raising with a wince to touch Bo’s hand. Your silence was enough for Bo to answer.

“I’m not leavin’ you TT, I wouldn’t dare.” He kisses the back of your head with a small smile, making your eyes close at his touch.

Bo explains before the abyss wins, “Because I couldn’t. It needed to be him. And I needed to be the one holdin’ you…so you know it’s much safer on this side.”

The turn is agonizingly slow for you but rapid for Bo and his excitement sparks like the flick of a match to his cigarette. He can’t wait to see the new shade of your eyes, ones that favor his.

A new life.

Together…if that’s what you wanted.

You just never thought Bo would be the one killing you.

Your eyes open quickly through the dark like the rise of the sun and as you sit up in the dirt, taking in your surroundings, you no longer hear the pleads of your deceased father telling you to in fact fight it, you no longer feel the softness of your mother’s chest before she fled to Oklahoma, and you can’t sense your grandfather motivating you, with brain teasers over the drums and it quickly turning into disappointment as he realizes in his spirit what is happening to the relative he let go of again.

The body that you glance down at suddenly feels unfamiliar, skin feels heavy like marble, cold and stable, senses sharp. You have the taste of dirt in your mouth, as if you belong underground, like a memory.

You don’t look to Bo yet but you know he’s there. He watches you, reborn and unafraid to blink.

“TT-

He starts but you shush him, reflective eyes flicking right to his hands instead. You then glance down at your ankle and snatch it back. It should hurt but it doesn’t. It doesn’t even look normal but it feels like it is.

“This is…” your wrack your head for answers but there’s a mountain of internal words that spill out from your head.

Bo nods, “I ain’t. I’m still me and you’re still the diamond I’d always pick.”

There’s a ghost of a sad smile on your lips, “Yet you have a baby on the way. A wife to be. Alive?”

Bo confirms with a blink, looking away as he runs his tongue over the back of his bottom lip.

You get to your feet, expecting to be shaky but stand bold and tall. Bo echoes your movements, quick on his feet, facing you.

“That ain’t why I wanted eternity with you.”

“I know,” you sigh, “But it don’t feel like enough right now. I was fine—

“Bullshit.” Bo interrupts, “You weren’t fine. You did what we all did, just try to make it in the most southern place on earth. Survive. Just like each and every one of us, all of us caught in the fire scrappin’ through. But you? I thought you would make it through and Sammie.”

Your head shakes at that.

What makes Bo think Sammie won’t?

“Yet you dragged me right back into this.” You hands raise at your sides before slapping back beside your thighs, “That’s a bit fucked up don’t you think?”

Bo crosses his arms although he doesn’t argue much, “We deserved more time and not by anyone else who had the power to take it away.”

That’s ironic.

“Looks like you got it.” You say, seeing the shadow from your side view, “But I’m not sticking around here to be someone’s puppet. So do what you will, dance for the undead red haired banjo but I won’t.”

Silence follows and even this version of Bo knows you’re dead serious—no pun intended.

Bo almost pouts, “You’re gonna miss out, sugar. Are you sure?”

You lift your shoulders and begin to walk around him, “I’m walking away now, Bo. That’s my choice. Let’s see what happens next.”

Bo doesn’t follow but he watches.

He feels the pull from Remmick in the opposite direction whereas you hardly feel an attachment at all, despite the fact that he sunk his choppers into you not that long ago. His voice knaws at your eardrums but the patter of horses from the north feels like something you’re more drawn to.

Almost numb to the cold shell of the person you once known is behind you.

“…I’ll see you soon, TT.” He calls out to you.

It almost makes you skip a step and look back—and not becuase you don’t want to but becuase you might actually stay.

Staying like this, now, would not be living.

“Only if the winds say so.”

If you had to live like this just to die again, you still wanted no parts. If you would have listened to your gut, stayed indoors where you were safe and sound, you wouldn’t be this walking posion.

You can’t change permanent and it made no sense to dwell on it so…you keep on walking.

Bo continues to watch as you become one with the trees, no longer a shadow but simply a rustle between its leaves. Like they know it’s your turn to run things now.

He could follow you, catch up without a sound, but you already told him what you needed.

It wasn’t him right now.

You needed a moment and he had to respect that.

He couldn’t run after someone who already made their choice.

He knows what you gave up to be what he is…by the teeth of someone else.

Bo Chow let you know that he planned on seeing you soon but now he’s aware it was on your terms this time.

There was still love there, despite supposedly being one without a soul…so Bo had to ride on that.

And if that killed him?

So be it.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

FIN.

[tgmsunmontue]

A picture is worth 1000 words - 19/20

Hangster post-TGM events, Jake and Bradley becoming friends on Instagram through increasingly competitive thirst traps.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN

PART NINETEEN

                “Uncle Rooster! I want to draw you a picture…”

                Bradley’s head snaps up, because one of those names is brand new, but the other got his attention. The combination from Lexis has him stuttering out some form of reply he doesn’t even know, completely unable to come up with a coherent response as Lexis drags him toward the table covered in paper and coloring things. He’s never thought about kids, not even as nieces or nephews. As an only child he’d always figured it was a moot point.

                Now, with Lexis giving him pointers on his choice of markers, her calling him Uncle Rooster again, Andy copying her and then demanding to sit on his other side while he draws has him realizing he might get to have this as well. He looks up from his drawing to see Jake taking the seat opposite him at the table, expression pensive. He feels Jake’s foot poke his and he raises an eyebrow in query.

                “What?”

                “You good?” Jake asks, and Bradley frowns, not sure what or why he’s asking. “Uncle Rooster?” Jake asks, and Bradley expects him to be grinning except he’s not. Instead, he’s reached for a piece of paper and is writing on it, ripping it off and then reaching across the table to give it to him.

                “Passing notes?” Bradley asks, rolling his eyes and he can tell Jake wants to give him the finger but is resisting because Lexis and Andy are sitting either side of him. He unfolds the piece of paper and reads the few words;

                I can ask them not to call you that.

                He immediately shakes his head.

                “No. It’s good. It’s fine. I like it.”

                The smile Jake gives him is slow but warm and he feels Jake’s foot run up his calf.

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah,” Bradley confirms, licking his lips, fully aware of Jake tracking the movement, silent amusement on his face now, but he’s no longer looking worried so Bradley takes that as a win.

                “Good. You want a coffee?”

                “I want a fluffy!” Andy declares, quickly followed by Lexis saying “Me too!” and Bradley looks to Lexis and Andy and then at Jake, who is grinning at them widely.

                “What the – uh, what’s a fluffy?”

                “Frothed milk. With a side of marshmallows. You guys know the rules, you have to pay the barista… and ask nicely.”

                “Do I have to pay the barista?” Bradley asks.

                “Oh, I’m sure we can work out a payment plan…” Jake says with a wink and Bradley snorts, shakes his head but he’s smiling.

                “You have to draw Uncle Jake a picture… please can I have a fluffy Uncle Jake?”

                “Of course you can darlin’, and I look forward to my picture there Rooster…”

                Bradley looks down at the blank piece of paper in front of him and pulls a face, then feels a small hand on his arm.

                “It’s okay Uncle Rooster, I’ll help you…”

                “Thanks.”

…            …            …

                “Wow Lexis, that’s gorgeous. Maybe I can change my profile picture…”

                “Those are fighting words Rooster. You even know how?” Jake teases, but he’s placing a soft kiss to the side of his face as he places a mug of coffee in the center of the table where it’s unlikely to get knocked by small hands.

                “I can figure it out,” Bradley laughs, because he’s actually feeling pretty adept now at using Instagram.

                “What is your picture anyway? It’s very blurry…”

                “Oh, it’s a type of beer Nat and I found in Vietnam. Rooster Beers. I became quite partial to the blonde…”

                “Did you now?” Jake asks, shit eating grin on his face, but it morphs quickly into the happy face scrunch Bradley’s starting to become familiar with when Jake is… relaxed. Happy. He’s going back into the kitchen, coming back with little mugs on plates for Lexis and Andy but Bradley’s eyes don’t leave Jake.

                “Yeah. I did. I do.”

TWENTY

[enha-hype]

&team - period care pt 2 ♡ (maknae line) hyung line

how each member deals with/reacts to different period symptoms

pairing: bf!&team x afab!reader

genre: fluff, comfort, poor attempt at humour lol, little bit of angst in taki’s

warnings: cursing, mentions of nausea, period pain, mentions about food and eating problems but not ED related

w.c.: around 500-700 for each member

a/n: finally back with the part 2 i promised!! taki's turned out to be a little longer than the rest...okay maybe a lot lol (1k). but i didn't want it to be half-assed either so yeah.

posting this on my period.... where is my loving caring boyfriend 😞

🪐 yuma (fatigue)

it's one of those days where you really really do not want to step out of the house (more like the couch in the living room), much less do anything that requires any physical activity. which is not good, because you and yuma have a picnic planned for today at this cute little spot which requires a bit of walking and cycling to get there. and you are absolutely in no mood for that.

(more under the cut!)

at first you think about just sucking it up and getting it over with. but you'll probably be moody and grumpy the whole time and yuma deserves better than that. you would also like it if you could go when you would actually be able to enjoy it.

no other way around it then. you let out a long dramatic sigh and grab your phone to dial your boyfriend. he picks up on the second ring.

“yuma…”

“yes sweetie?!” he sounds so excited you feel doubly worse for what you're about to do.

you chew on the inside of your cheek. “okay, please don't be mad, but…”

“what? did you watch another episode of resident playbook without me again?”

“no! i was just wondering if we could... maybe postpone our picnic date and just stay in instead today?” there's a beat of silence.

“i am SO mad that i'm gonna come over with your favourite snacks and punish you with kisses all over your face before we watch the next episode of resident playbook together,”

you heave a sigh of relief. you knew he wouldn't really be mad – you had been more worried about disappointing him but the fact that he was being so chill about it eased your mind. “ugh, i love you. i'm sorry baby, i know you were really excited about today,”

“it’s okay. i know you were looking forward to it too so if you wanna postpone it there must be a reason. is everything okay? you sound a little off,”

if he were here, you would've kissed him for that.

“i just feel dead tired and don't feel like doing anything today. plus i couldn't get much sleep last night because i kept waking up to pee,” you frown, “i have the bladder control of a pregnant woman when i'm on my period, which is ironic,”

he chuckles. “sorry to hear that, sweetie. do you want me to get you anything on the way? do you have enough tampons at home?”

“yeah i do, thank you. oh but could you get some ice cream?”

“of course. you sure you don't need anything else? juice? diapers?”

“diapers? i don't use period diapers.”

“i didn't mean period diapers. i meant adult diapers in case, you know, you piss yourself or something,” he teases, and you can picture his cute little snaggletooth sticking out (ik he doesn't have his snaggletooth anymore but let me have this plis i miss it 😭) as he grins mischievously.

“ha ha very funny. let's see how funny it is when you get here and i tickle you until you piss yourself,”

“yeah no okay no pissing. only kissing please. do you have the energy for that?” the teasing tone of his voice makes you blush just a little.

“oh there will be plenty of kissing, nakakita yuma, don't you worry about that,”

“well then i guess i'd better hurry,”

🪐 jo (cravings)

it is no secret that asakura jo is an absolute sweetheart, someone who is too nice for his own good. he finds it hard to say no in general, but even more so when it's you and you're giving him you're biggest, widest puppy eyes. he would've caved even without you doing all that, honestly. so needless to say, whenever you're craving anything – especially on the days leading up to and during your period – he makes sure you have it even if it's 11 pm, because he wants to do anything he can to help make it easier.

however, he soon learns his lesson when he sees the damage his overindulgence does to you. he realises the sort of foods you crave also unfortunately happen to be the sort of foods that made cramps and other period symptoms worse. obviously, this is not news to you. you just figure that if you were going to be miserable either way, you might as well eat what you like at least. but jo makes up his mind to change things, and it does not start well. for someone so soft-spoken, you find that jo could be surprisingly assertive when he wanted to. and you do not like it at all, especially since you are so used to just him giving in to whatever you want.

while he makes it seem easy, only he knows the effort that goes into staying resolute. he hates seeing you sulk and wants to do anything to make you smile again. but then he reminds himself that you'll be the one to suffer later, and that helps him hold his ground.

he does not completely cut you off from your guilty pleasures, of course. he just makes sure you have limited and carefully curated access to it, unlike before. it takes you a little getting used to, and you whine and complain about it even though you are aware of the fact that you are probably acting like a spoiled little kid throwing a tantrum and well, it isn't far from the truth - you were used to being spoiled by your sweetheart of a boyfriend. but even though jo hates to see you pout, he continues to remain firm. to make things easier for you, he even looks up recipes and makes you dishes using healthy ingredients and tries to make them as suited to your taste as possible.

he keeps track of your cycle and starts keeping an eye on your diet a couple of days before your period is due – which is exactly when the cravings start. today is one such day when you are displeased with this arrangement – it's the third day of your cycle and you're desperately craving some caffè mocha, but jo said you've already used up your share of cheat meal/drink for today. you sit there sulking like you usually do, half-heartedly working on your assignment.

then it hits you that not only have your cramps substantially reduced this cycle, you also don't feel as tired as you usually do. your other symptoms are better too. guilt kicks in along with the realisation – all that he has been doing really did help.

you abashedly make your way to his room where you find him sketching. you stand at the door watching him for a while, then walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind.

“jojo….” you start, your tone apologetic.

putting his pencil down, he turns around in his chair and pulls you into his lap. “not mad at me anymore?” he asks, a soft smile on his lips. the smile is not teasing or gloating, just pure and pretty, like him.

you bury your face in his neck and groan. you've been a brat and this is still how he reacts? you suppose you shouldn't be surprised.

“you need to stop being so nice…. you've spoiled me rotten,” you mutter.

he chuckles. “ahh, so it's my fault?”

“no, it's not. i'm sorry, jojo. you're so sweet and thoughtful and i have been behaving like a starving victorian child. i've been doing nothing but complain and whine,”

“it's okay sweetie, i know it's hard,” he says, stroking your hair. “if i had periods i'd probably be way more dramatic,”

“oh, no, i think you would still be a saint,” you say and tilt his chin up as you lean in for a kiss.

🪐 harua (nausea)

it has only been a few months since you started dating harua so he doesn't know everything about you yet. like why you go MIA for a few consecutive days every month where he is only able to contact you through texts. on those days, you usually tell him something came up at your part-time job or that you're staying over at your friend's place or that you have to meet your grandma.

today, however, you decide to be somewhat truthful for once. which you end up regretting when he shows up at your door half an hour later. it goes like this:

harua🐇: hi y/n!! d'you wanna go shopping with me later today?

you : i would've loved to but i'm not feeling too good right now so maybe some other day? sorry xoxo

harua🐇: oh, okay, it's np! ♡ hope you feel better soon :(

and then he shows up at your place and your heart drops. under normal circumstances, you would've been happy to see him but right now you're positive you look like shit.

harua doesn't care about that, however – at least not in the way you do. how could he not come when you told him you weren't feeling well? he even brought a sick kit, although unfortunately it doesn't have much to help the kind of ‘sick’ you are right now – he thinks you probably have a cold or are running a temperature.

“oh rua….you're so sweet. but you really didn't have to come,” you say, hastily smoothing out your hair and fixing your shirt.

“no, i'm glad i came. you don't look too good, are you okay standing?” he leads you to your couch and sits down beside you, scrutinizing you with concern.

“no it's really okay…i go through this every month…” you begin, and he tilts his head quizzically.

you sigh with defeat. “i might as well just tell you, i guess. i'm not actually sick, i'm just on my period…i get horribly nauseous during the first three days of my cycle and sometimes even end up puking. i didn't want to tell you because well, it's not exactly a fun fact, is it?”

realisation dawns on him. “ohhh, so that's why you disappear for a few days every month!”

you smile sheepishly, your cheeks flushing. “yeah. i didn't think you kept track,”

“please, i was starting to think you were a werewolf or something and needed to get away to phase,”

you start to laugh but stop midway when you feel a wave of queasiness coming on and immediately clamp your mouth shut with your hand.

“y/n? you okay?”

you put your head between your knees and hold one hand up. thankfully it passes soon, and you sit up when you feel a little better.

“i think you should leave now,” you tell him.

“why? do you not want me here?”

“yes. i mean, no, not that i don't want you here– well i don't– but it's not because…i just…what if i puke? i don't want–”

“i'll hold your hair up,” he shrugs nonchalantly, like it's the most obvious thing ever.

you stare at him incredulously. he returns your gaze with his own stubborn one.

“did you perchance forget that i'm your boyfriend?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“no?”

“then treat me like one, will you? let me be here for you,”

and how could you say no to that?

he does, however, leave soon after, saying he needs to run somewhere real quick and that he'll be back before you know it. he returns with lemon soda, ginger ale and some mint leaves for peppermint tea.

“stuff that helps with nausea, apparently,” he explains when you look at him questioningly. “did a quick google search. oh, i also bought some scented candles although i don't know how effective those will be… i didn't know what you might like so i picked up a bunch of random ones. i know you like citrus fruits so i bought a few of those and these here are floral scents. later when you're feeling better we can go together and pick more out–”

you pull him into a tight hug, catching him off guard. “i love you,”

he smiles and squeezes you back in return. “in case it wasn't already clear, i love you too,”

🪐 taki (irritability)

you've had a rough day. your professor had shouted at you in front of the whole class for something that hadn't even been your fault. then he made you walk all around campus running errands for him. and like that wasn't enough, you tripped and fell in PE. you didn't sustain any major injuries - just a few scrapes here and there but it was nonetheless not fun and extremely humiliating. you heard a few classmates snickering. and to top it all off, you're on your period.

given the mentally and physically exhausting day you've had, you're so relieved to finally come home and be able to sulk in peace. but before long, your flatmate who is also your boyfriend, also gets home – the one day you're not excited he's home early. while you love him dearly, you would really like some alone time right now.

taki is known as the mood maker in every room he's in. he's lively and cheerful and talkative and fun to be around. he loves putting a smile on people's faces so when he comes home to his favourite person evidently in a shitty mood, what does he do? takes it upon himself to make sure you're smiling again, of course.

and so it begins. he starts talking about everything he did that day and everything he's going to do tomorrow and about the date he has planned for you this week and what he's going to make for dinner tonight. he doesn't ask you about your day because he doesn't wanna make you talk about something you clearly don't want to. and so he talks on your behalf as well. you usually love it when he yaps away like this, he talks so animatedly it's endearing to watch. a lot of the time when he goes on one of his ‘yappathons’ as you call it, you're the embodiment of the blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff meme.

but not right now, not today. right now you're just sitting there silently, your irritation steadily rising, willing him to stop. if only you had said that out loud instead of bottling up until it burst, what happens next could have been avoided.

the final straw comes when he starts telling you about how one of his friends fell and how it was so funny everyone was laughing including the guy who fell. little do you know that he's doing this solely in an attempt to get you to laugh or at least crack a smile – nobody fell, at least not today. the logical part of you knows taki does not know that you yourself had an embarrassing fall today and so he most definitely does not mean this to be a jab at you, leaving your ego bruised. the logical part of you also knows that the anger you're feeling towards him right now is misdirected and irrational. but you're already so done at that point that logic flies out the window and you just snap at him.

“oh my god taki can you shut the hell up and leave me alone for ten minutes?! will your head explode if you don't keep talking all the damn time?”

taki was evidently not expecting such a reaction. he stares at you for a few seconds, stunned into silence. then he mumbles a sorry and gets up and walks away without another word. you hear the front door click shut a minute later. great. as if this godforsaken day hadn't been bad enough you've also managed to hurt the one person who was actually trying to make it better. tears prick your eyes as regret and worry slowly eats you up.

it is only when he returns a little after an hour later that you breathe a sigh of relief. he doesn't so much as look in your direction, however, and heads straight to his room.

“taki, wait!” you call after him.

he stops, but doesn't turn around. you go over to him and take his hand, and he finally looks up at you. his expression is sharp and unreadable, but the hurt is evident in his eyes.

“i'm...really sorry, taki. you didn't deserve that. it was a shitty thing to say and i wasn't even mad at you, i just had a shitty day and am on my period and needed a bit of time to myself to calm down. one of my professors shouted at me for something i didn't even do and then he made me go all around campus asking me to do this and that and then i tripped over my own fucking feet and fell in PE and it was so embaassing–”

“you fell? are you okay?” he asks, eyes wide and hands immediately flying up to clutch your arms.

you wince. “yeah, it was nothing. just a few scrapes and uh, you're actually kind of pressing on one right now,” you say, holding up your elbow.

he lets go immediately. “shit, sorry. where else did you get hurt? did you clean it properly and apply antiseptic cream?”

“yes, i did, i'm fine really,” you assure him, taking his hand in yours again and stroking it, feeling simultaneously guilty and relieved at how quickly whatever anger and hurt he might've felt about what you said earlier dissolved when you told him what happened.

he looks down at his hand in yours, then back up at you and sighs, lacing his fingers with yours. “if you needed some time to yourself you could've just told me, you know,”

“i know, i'm sorry. it was stupid. i'll tell you next time, i promise. don't take what i said to heart okay?”

he smiles a little. “it's alright. i know i would've been worse if i were to get my period,”

“way worse,” you agree, and he hits you playfully.

“so, am i still your favourite yapper?” he asks.

you roll your eyes and pull him close to kiss his cheek. “always,”

his smile widens and your heart feels lighter. “alright then, come on,” he says, tugging your hand. “tell me what you feel like doing. i'll make up for the shitty day the universe dealt you,”

🪐 maki (stomach and back pain)

you and your boyfriend are having a movie night with your friends taki and harua at his place. taki has the bean bag while you, harua and maki are sitting on the couch in that order – they usually try to keep you and maki separated during movie nights because otherwise you either won't keep your hands off of each other or keep making jokes and speculations about what's going to happen next.

halfway through the film, harua and taki are deeply engrossed in the murder mystery but maki has noticed that you haven't been able to sit still for some time now – it's clear you're uncomfortable. but he knows it's not because of the movie because you've always had a stronger stomach for gore and morbid stuff than he has.

he discreetly reaches for his phone to text you.

maki : why have you been squirming and wiggling for the past ten minutes. are you testing out the ‘would you still love me if i was a worm’ hypothetical?

your phone pings, notifying a message. when you grab it to reply, harua rolls his eyes. maybe they should confiscate your phones as well the next time.

you : no tf 😭 im just tryna get comfortable cuz my back and stomach hurts :( d’you think i could go lay down just for a few minutes maybe?

maki : what omg

maki : is it cuz of your period? why didn't you tell me sooner? and ofc you can go lay down you don't even have to ask!! actually wait i'll come with you

before you can tell him it's fine he's already speaking up.

“hey guys, you can continue watching the movie. y/n isn't feeling well so we're gonna take a little break and come back later,”

taki and harua enquire after you with concern and you assure them you'll be fine if you just rest for a bit. they don't even ask maki why he's accompanying you to the bedroom because they know there's no way he'll be able to focus on a movie when there's even the slightest thing bothering you.

the relief you feel when your back hits the soft mattress is palpable. “ohhh that feels so good…”

“better? what about your stomach?” maki asks, caressing your cheek, his forehead creased with worry.

“still hurts a bit,” you frown, placing your hands on the area where it hurts. “should've brought my heating pad. but it's fine,”

“do you want me to go get you one, babe? i'll try to be back as soon as i can,” maki says as he gets up but you pull him down.

“nooo don't go anywhere. stay here,”

“but i want to help,”

“well then…” you take both his hands in yours and his eyes widen as you pull up your top, leaving your stomach exposed. then you place both of his hands on the lower part of your stomach. as expected, the warmth and the pressure eases the ache a little. “don’t press too much but just apply a bit of pressure here like you're doing now,” you instruct.

he leans over your abdomen and wags a threatening finger at it, “hey you, stop hurting my partner or else!” he looks up at you beaming. “is that enough pressure?”

it's dumb and not even that funny, but you can't help giggling. “you are so silly,”

“silly in loooove,” he sings and you roll your eyes. with his hands still on your stomach he leans down to kiss your belly button.

you giggle and then wince. “babe i'm not sure doing anything ticklish is a good idea right now,”

“right, sorry,”

the both of you end up talking about the movie and you fall asleep listening to him ramble about who he thinks the killer might be and why. he keeps his hands on your stomach until you wake up an hour later and assure him you're more than fine.

divider credits: @/saradika-graphics

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi, an another prompt, because I love your writing. I understand it takes time to fill.

Prompt for stronger ties: Magus and Alec enjoying their honeymoon and maybe meeting Ragnor and Cat. Or The Institute, and Alec’s family panicking over his disappearance.

SFW/ NSFW

thank you for the understanding <3 and I appreciate the prompts! last part here

this was supposed to involve Cat and Ragnor but Malec are having too good a time on their honeymoon currently and Alec has decided that since Izzy and Jace are at least safe, they can handle the fallout along with all the people who have more authority than him (aka Lydia/Imogen/maryse etc).

Alec's tired, okay? Nothing has been going his way AT ALL, his whole family got implicated in treason (again) and then actually committed several flavors of treason and also implicated Alec. so Alec is tired. maybe he'd be less 'fuck them' if he'd been there to see Jace and Clary 'heroically try to save the day' except they didn't save the day and he knows that.

Suddenly one thing goes his way. he saves his sister. he might lose the institute but that's better than losing himself to a marriage that isn't doing anything to help his family when push comes to shove. Alec has a marriage now that actually gave him something worthwhile (Izzy not being deruned when Lydia couldn't do anything)

alec's like: this one thing? this is mine now. goodbye and ty for coming to my talk.

i hope you enjoy <3

-lumine

the stronger of claims

Alec wakes to silk sheets as soft and luxurious as he’s imagined Magnus’ many shirts are. Golden light dapples across his body and he groans, despite his muscles being fine he feels as if he’s been thrown through several layers of concrete by a demon.

The bed smells like Magnus.

That’s the only thing keeping him calm and then there’s a deep chuckle against his back and Alec realizes there’s an arm around his waist and cool rings pressed against the skin of his belly.

“We go' marri'd.” Alec means to be articulate but it comes out in a hoarse slurry of words and Magnus laughs again, louder this time.  His warm muscles shake Alec’s body with his humor and Alec presses back into his warmth greedily.

Whatever it is that has Alec unable to think straight, being closer to Magnus helps.

“We aren’t married darling, we’re bonded. Which is something far more permanent than marriage. In fact, even by Clave standards a bond like ours is higher than marriage. So give your pretty head a break, your attachment to Lydia is no longer viable.”

The small pulse of sadness that went through Alec at the thought that they aren’t actually married is swept away by relief at Magnus’ words.

“Good.”

That’s about all he’s able to say really and if he had more energy, Alec would turn so he can burrow his nose into Magnus’ chest.  Instead he just wiggles back, content when Magnus chin slots against his shoulder, stubble tickling Alec’s skin.

“Izzy?”

Magnus wouldn’t be here, calm and with the magic between them settled if she weren't okay but still, Alec has to ask.

—-

“Safe and sound though demoted for the next year and with a few other restrictions, shadowhunter business. Once I knew she was safe I didn’t pay quite as much attention I fear.”

A lie, but Alexander is too tired to listen beyond the relief of knowing his little sister is safe.

Alexander falls back asleep before Magnus can ask him anything important and while he’s already moved the loft, that doesn’t mean Magnus needs to be obvious about where they are and staying in Brooklyn is obvious.

Within half an hour Magnus is booked at one of the most private and luxurious selkie run resorts and is portaling both himself and Alexander to one of their private bungalows. The one half of a wardstone he’s been given is the only reason the coordinates even work, or they’d have to take a boat. 

After all, they can be tracked on land but on the water, they’ll be untraceable.

Instead it’s out on the ocean, magical stilts holding up water worn wood and crystal and ocean mined rock that create a paradise of beauty without interruption.  

Mundanes can’t sail through this area, it doesn’t exist to them and the wind wards will redirect their boats and bodies, no matter what.

It also means they’ll be completely impossible to track, which will be necessary once Alexander’s family remembers he exists and is missing.

Honestly, the fact that over twenty-four hours have passed since Alexander first came to him and yet Magnus has yet to receive so much as a text or fire message.  That kind of behavior says more than enough about his boy’s family.

They’ll need to make a stop at the Labyrinth after their honeymoon. Alexander’s new status will need to be documented and recorded and the vows he’ll need to swear as Magnus’ consort will need to happen as soon as possible.

But still, after this.

Alexander wakes to sunshine, cradled by both Magnus arms and the hammock he magicked them both into.  

There’s awe on his face as he looks around and almost knocks them both out of the hammock and into the water with a laugh as he sits up.

“Keep it up and I’ll let you fall in the water.” Magnus threatens and Alexander just grins cheekily at him, as if the pain of the new bond has finally faded and then his boy tips himself out of the hammock.

Magnus curses.

Not from the seawater splashing him, but from the fact that Alexander doesn’t immediately surface.  There’s a moment where concern and terror grip him, and then Alexander is surfacing further away, a look of delight on his face and he’s holding... Magnus deliberately drops his glamour to get a better look.

“Why are you holding a fish, Alexander?”

Alexander grins at him, hair slick and half in his eyes as he treads water.

“To eat? It seems pretty isolated out here. Aren’t you hungry?” While Magnus could eat again — he’s made sure to eat while Alexander slept — it’s not surprising that his boy is ravenous. What is surprising is that he caught a fish rather than just asking for something.

“Yes darling, but that’s what I have magic for.” 

Alexander looks dubious as he swims closer, somehow holding onto the slick fish with only one hand before pulling himself and the fish up onto the dock where he drops it pointedly in an empty bucket. Magnus resigns himself to losing this argument even before it's begun.

“But fresh fish tastes the best.” Alexander has his arms crossed and is pointedly staring Magnus down as Magnus tries to avoid looking at both Alexander and the suffocating fish he can hear flailing around the bucket .

“I can summon us the freshest of—” Alexander’s eyes darken with sadness and Magnus sighs and deliberately doesn’t pinch his nose. “Do you know how to dress and cook fresh fish?”

Alexander does it seems.  

He’s a little unsure and lacking in confidence once they get into the kitchen but it seems he knows how to clean and dress a fish.  Magnus even summons an apron for him, some dark purple piece he’d once gotten for Cat and Alexander just asks Magnus to help him tie it.

The real hiccup starts when Alexander summons a small blade to his palm, the knife glowing and bright as it unfurls.

“If I use an adamas blade to clean the fish, will you be allergic?” 

It’s such an absurd thing to consider but also an absurdly thoughtful check-in and Magnus has to kiss Alexander. Ignoring both the still wriggling fish and the small glowing blade his consort is holding. Magnus is also trying not to mention how there is an entire knife-block and drawer full of sharpened knives already in the kitchen that Alexander could use instead.

“I’ll be fine darling. Also I’m summoning bread and side dishes. We are not eating just fish, Alexander. There is a limit to my tolerance.”

There’s a huff of protest but when Magnus looks at him, Alexander is grinning down at the fish he’s cleaning, eyes soft and cheeks vibrant with delight.

It’s a look Magnus has never seen on Alexander before and while that shouldn’t be too much of a surprise — they barely know each other all things considered, it means something. Magnus doubts that this is a normal or frequent expression on Alexander's face and yet something as simple as this, teasingly arguing about dinner is enough to bring it out.

They eat on the dock.

So far Alexander hasn’t asked a single question about why Magnus portaled them somewhere else and seems to be ignoring everything else beyond enjoying himself.

Magnus summons a thick blanket and they sit in nothing but boxers with their feet in the water as they eat.  The fish is delicious. Flaky and succulent and with plenty of lemon and from Alexander’s smug face, he knows exactly how good it is.

However, Alexander’s face when he bites into the bread Magnus summoned is just as delighted and before Magnus can tease him, Alexander’s already recanted his previous statement.

“So from now on, I’ll fish and you summon everything else?” Alexander asks, almost eager as he eyes the now empty basket of bread and Magnus summons another, just because he can.

And of course for the way Alexander smiles at him, crumbs catching on his growing stubble until Magnus wipes them away.

“I’d rather not eat fish every meal, Alexander. The selkies running this place might consider your efforts an effective show and try to woo you away from me.”

Alexander scoffs at the thought and Magnus laughs, because while he’s not completely joking he also simply has no wish to eat seafood for every single meal.

Besides, he plans to keep them there for at least five days. That might be a bit long considering whatever crisis the shadowworld is currently going through, however Magnus kicked up a bit of a hornets nest for the Clave.

It will be days before Imogen Herondale thinks of anything besides her newly ground grandson, something Magnus will still need to explain to Alexander at some point.

AN:

Alec: i'm with Magnus and we're on water so we can't be tracked. I know nothing. i'm living my best life... oh fish. Magnus might like fish too.

Magnus: ... look I understand that fresh fish is best but that doesn't mean I want Alexander fishing with his bare hands when his hands could instead be on me?? is this hard to understand? I can summon fish still alive so they're the freshest of fresh but I want my consort's hands all to myself. this is not complicated.

Alec *wakes up in paradise aka Magnus' arms and in a really nice place*: so this is new- nice. I meant nice. this is totally normal and where I went to sleep. carry on.

Magnus: ... you don't want to know where we are? or how long we'll be here? or even why we are here?"

Alec: if I ask questions then you'll give me answers and right now, I just want to exist with you. reality doesn't exist outside us right now. that's my stance.

Alec: I don't have to marry lydia? I don't have to wear her rune? or kiss her? or make medically induced babies I don't want with her? I am on vacation and I don't care if the institute explodes or implodes or whatever. it goes to hell whether i'm there or not and literally everything is above my pay grade right now. that's what my mother, Lydia and imogen exist for. they can deal with it.

Magnus: darling, don't you need to return to the Institute at some point? i'm not complaining, you just haven't mentioned it once

Alec who is sharpening a wooden spear to use for fishing looking up, eyes glinting violently: what institute, Magnus?

Magnus: your... ah. well I suppose it's not really your institute anymore, is it?

Alec: no. no it isn't. therefore, are the problems mine?

Magnus wisely shaking his head: no darling, of course not.

Alec: when they want me back, they can contact me. I currently don't hold an active rank in the Institute. I'm technically just an off-duty Commander sometimes pulled onto teams. and while Lydia's been relying on me to run things behind the scenes, she can just do them herself or delegate. this is our honeymoon, isn't it? why are you trying to cut it short?

Magnus: you're completely right. forget the institute. I shan't bring it up again, now darling did you say you saw oysters?

*honestly i'm still not sure what path Alec's going to take in this verse. he's kind of at the point where he's not sure either

[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

[cherrywriterrr]

hot on the line

word count: 2,045

warning: blue collar rafe / mentions of sexual themes / suggestive phone call / light dominance / filthy mouth

the call comes in at 3:42 p.m.

you’re lying on the bed in your tank top, fan spinning lazily overhead, when your phone buzzes once. just once. his name. no text. no voicemail. no facetime.

just the call.

you answer on instinct. “hi.”

his voice is low. hoarse. strained. tired. “you alone?”

your lips curl. “yeah.”

“good.”

you bite your lip and adjust the phone against your ear. you can hear background noise—tools clanking, someone yelling, a saw buzzing in the distance.

“where are you?” you ask softly.

“site out by taylor’s creek. been here since six. it’s a bitch.”

you hum. “you okay?”

“better now.” a pause. “what are you wearin’?”

you blink. “excuse me?”

“don’t play dumb,” he mutters, and god—he sounds wrecked. like he’s been thinking about this all day. “i got five minutes before we pour concrete and you’re all i can think about. so tell me what the fuck you’re wearin’, baby.”

you shift on the bed, thighs brushing. heat blooms instantly at the base of your spine. “just… a tank top.”

“no bra?”

“no.”

you can hear the breath catch in his throat. hear the metal clang of something dropping near him.

“fuck. don’t do that to me.”

“you called me, rafe.”

“’cause i needed to hear your voice,” he says, low and filthy. “needed to picture your pretty mouth makin’ those little noises you make when i get you goin’. needed to know if you were thinkin’ about me too.”

you let your hand trail slowly over your stomach, just enough pressure to make yourself squirm. “i was.”

“yeah?”

“mhmm.”

“jesus, baby…”

he exhales hard, like he’s leaning against something. you can hear the sweat in his voice. like the weight of the heat and labor is finally breaking him down.

“you been good for me today?” he asks, slower now.

“i tried.”

“but?”

you grin. “i wore your shirt around the house this morning.”

“the white one?”

“the one you left in the dryer.”

“baby…” his voice is strained again, and you know he’s palming the front of his jeans now, trying to adjust without anyone seeing. “don’t fuckin’ tell me that.”

“you said you wanted to know.”

“you know what that does to me.”

“what exactly does it do?”

you can hear the edge in his breath. the way his control is unraveling slowly. the tension behind his teeth.

“makes me wanna come home early,” he growls. “makes me wanna bend you over the goddamn counter with your legs shaking and my fuckin’ name in your mouth.”

your breath catches. you squeeze your thighs together and try not to make a sound, but he hears it anyway.

“you like that, baby?”

“yeah,��� you whisper. “i miss you.”

“i know, baby. i miss you too.” his voice softens, just for a second. “i’m tryin’ to be good. tryin’ to make good money for us. build something real.”

“you are.”

“doesn’t feel like it when i’m fuckin’ hard on a scaffolding, thinkin’ about your ass in my shirt.”

you laugh, and he groans.

“god, i love that sound,” he says. “drives me fuckin’ insane. i’m losin’ it out here.”

“you always talk like this at work?”

“only when i can’t stop picturing your hand down your shorts.”

you flush all over. “i didn’t say—”

“you didn’t have to.”

he’s breathing heavier now, and there’s a muttered “fuckin’ christ” under his breath that makes your spine arch just a little.

“i’m gonna take you apart when i get home,” he says quietly. “slow. real slow. you’ll be beggin’ me to stop.”

“no i won’t.”

he chuckles. “no. you won’t.”

you bite your lip, breath quickening. your voice drops. “how much longer?”

he groans. “two hours. maybe three. boss said we’re behind.”

“you better not show up with dirty hands and try to fuck me on the couch again.”

“i will show up with dirty hands, and i will fuck you on the couch again.”

you shake your head, trying to stifle your smile. “you’re so cocky.”

“’cause i know you’ll let me.”

you don’t argue.

“hey,” he says suddenly, quieter.

“what?”

“you really miss me?”

“of course.”

another pause.

“you think about me when i’m gone?”

you nod, but realize he can’t see you. “yes.”

“you sleep in my side of the bed?”

“every time.”

he groans again, and something about the softness under his filth makes your chest ache.

“you know what i think about?” he asks.

“what?”

“comin’ home. every fuckin’ day. i think about this exact moment—hearin’ your voice. picturing you in bed. smellin’ dinner, or that lotion you wear. seein’ you in my clothes. touchin’ you.”

you swallow hard.

“i don’t give a shit how tired i am,” he says. “you’re always worth it.”

the line goes quiet for a beat. both of you breathing, both of you holding the weight of it in your chests.

then you hear someone yell his name in the distance—“cameron! let’s go!”

he sighs. “gotta get back.”

you nod, voice small. “okay.”

“but listen to me.” his voice hardens again. “don’t touch yourself. not yet.”

“what?”

“you heard me.”

“rafe—”

“i’ll be home by eight. you wait for me.”

“you’re a menace.”

“you love it.”

you pause.

“i do.”

“good. now go put that shirt back on.”

“why?”

“so i can tear it off you later.”

you hear him chuckle low before the line goes dead.

you stare at the screen, heart pounding, face flushed, thighs trembling.

you toss the phone down and bury your face in the pillow.

god help you when that man walks through the door.

tags: 🏷️ @rafesbabygirlx @rafesfavegf

[kendallroydefender]

Love‘s Gonna Bring You Home - Part 1 (Jax Teller x Winston!Reader)

Summary: Being Opie’s little sister meant you grew up in the world of SAMCRO. Surrounded by motorcycles, kutte‘s and the steady presence of his best friend Jax Teller. The one you had a crush on since you were a teen. Now you’re back in Charming and the old friendship slowly turned into something neither of you had expected.

It was good being back home. No matter how much you had been looking forward to going to college you had missed Charming. A lot. The familiar places, the club you grew up in, your family. And Jax.

Being Opie’s little sister by two years you grew up with him and his best friend since childhood.

You had been home, unpacking your suitcase and then went to the club to see your dad.

Now you were sitting in the Teller Morrow parking lot listening to the guys in the background while holding a cold coke bottle.

The sound of a motorcycle approaching got your attention. You heard the rumble of the engine before you saw him.

Jax Teller. The MC‘s golden boy, your brothers best friend and your crush since you were 14 years old. Being Opie’s little sister by two years you basically grew up with him and his best friend. Often tagging along when they were out and about. Annoying them when you were kids but then becoming close friends.

It’s been a while since you last saw Jax. Last summer you did a road trip with friends so you weren’t home. The summer before you had spent mostly at your, now ex, boyfriends hometown. And last Christmas you didn’t see him either since your dad was sick.

His blonde hair was a little longer since you last saw him, a little more stubble on his jaw, white tee snug under his Kutte and his trademark white Nikes.

He looked good. And you couldn’t stop your heart from jumping the same way it did when you were a teen.

”Look who’s back in town.“ he called out as he walked up to you. A smile gracing his face.

”Had to make sure you don’t forget about me.“ you laughed back

”How could I forget the girl who cut up my bandana to make a veil at six years old because she decided we were gonna get married.“ he paused for a moment, chuckling.

”You were bossy as hell back then.“

You grinned, a little embarrassed

”You should’ve been honored to marry me under the jungle gym.“ you shrugged.

He laughed at that before stepping closer.

You two hugged briefly.

Jax eyes scanned over you afterwards. Your hair was a little different now. A college hoodie sitting on your shoulders, cut off shorts that showed your legs. Legs Jax had no business noticing. But he did.

He stopped in front of you, his grin easy. “You’ve been gone too long.”

You shrugged. “College doesn’t exactly let you skip finals for beer nights at the clubhouse.”

Jax chuckled. “Yeah, well maybe they should.”

It was evening a few days after you’ve arrived when you went up to the roof of the Teller Morrow Garage.

A can of coke beside you. You didn’t have to look over when you heard the creak of the ladder. You already knew who it was.

”Been a while since anyone else came up here.“ he said, smile noticeable in his tone.

You shrugged ”You were working, figured you wouldn’t mind me borrowing your spot.“

”Don’t mind at all.“ he answered.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, easy.

”Being away gets heavy sometimes.“ you stated ”Me not being around helping dad to help. Opie being locked in.“ you let out a breath. ”Thought I come up here and pretend life wasn’t so complicated.“

Jax nodded.

”It does that. Life.“

”Opie showed me this place once. Told me this is where you think when the world gets too loud.“

Jax nodded

”Sometimes this feels like the only place I can breathe.“

You glanced at him. The honesty in his voice catching your attention.

”I get that.“ you agreed ”That’s why I came here.“

Another quiet moment passed as you both watched the sunset.

”Glad you’re home.“ he said then

”Me too.“ you said.

The chair squeaked as you sat down. You hated being here. The heavy feeling that came with the place.

But the moment you saw your brothers broad frame step into the room all that was forgotten.

Opie smiled when he saw you.

”Hey y/n.“ he said.

”Hey Ope.“

He sat down in front of you, looking at you for a moment.

”You lookin‘ good. You’re eatin‘? Sleepin‘?“

You rolled your eyes ”Yes Dad.“

He smirked ”Just gotta check. What’ve you been up to?“

”Helping Dad around the house. Being at the club. Hanging out with Jax.“ you shrugged

”Hanging out with Jax, huh?“

”Don’t start.“ you told him.

”Just sayin‘.“ he answered

”Ope I’ve been spending my summer with him every year since I was like 6. it’s the same as always just… without you.“

He nodded a fareaway look on his face.

”You’re missing. I miss you.“ you told him.

”I miss you, too.“ he told you.

You sat for a moment before he spoke again.

”How’s college going?“

”It’s good! Last year starting soon.“

”I’m so proud of you, kid.“

You gave him a smile ”Thank you.“

”If anyone could do it it’s you.“ he said before adding ”Smartest Winston there ever was.“

”Oh come on. I’m not.“ you laughed

”You serious? Who’s smarter? Aunt Beatrice? Uncle Karl?“ Opie grinned.

”I’m not smarter than you.“

”Kid, I love your support here but that’s not true. I’m the one in jail.“

You tilted your head

”Doesn’t mean you’re dumb.“

A guard let you know that the visitation time was almost up.

”I hate that I have to leave you here.“

”I’ll be back before you know it.“

You nodded knowing that it was more than a year before he would be released. You and Opie had always been close. You would drop anything for him and he would do the same for you. So you being separated like this was hard for both of you. Yeah, you wrote each other letters and called but it wasn’t the same as being able to come to him with every problem, thought and struggle you had.

The sun was high and reflecting off the water. The lake was quiet. You’ve been coming hear since forever. You, Jax and Opie. Club barbecues or fishing days.

You kicked your shoes off and settled close to the shoreline. Jax shrugged off his Kutte before stretching out beside you. You’ve been spending more and more time together this summer. You’d always did but usually with your brother but since Opie was in prison it was just the two of you.

Jax closed his eyes while you took out a book. Turning onto your stomach while reading.

You didn’t notice him studying you. You were so wrapped in the story, hair falling around your face, the sun illuminating you making you look as if you were glowing.

A smiled formed on his face. Yeah, you were always pretty but you were a kid. Now though? Now you were beautiful. A woman. Smart as hell and funny.

He let his gaze linger a little longer. The way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration. He almost didn’t noticed that he was staring until your eyes flicked towards his.

”What?“ You grinned a little.

He shook his head, his own grin forming slow and easy.

”Nothin‘“

You raised your eyebrows but he changed the topic before you could say anything else.

"Come on, darlin. You're not gonna sit there the whole time like a grandma."

He got up and started taking off his clothes. You tried not to stare. Eyes lingering on his chest. But Jax noticed anyway, he stayed silent though, small smirk forming on his face.

You rolled your eyes at him before stripping out of your own clothes until you were left in your bathing suit. Making his jaw clench slightly as his eyes glanced over you.

The water was cold and you squealed a little as you waded in. Jax laughed at you, more out of reflex you splashed some of the cold water at him.

”Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?“ he grinned before charging at you.

You let out a shriek before trying to get away but he caught you easily, arms sliding around your waist from behind lifting you out of the water as you tried to kick at him.

”Jax!“ you laughed.

He laughed too, head tucked beside yours, his grip firm but careful as he spun you around before lowering you back into the cool water. He was still holding on to you, his chest warm against your back. You felt his breath on your neck, the way it slowed a little as you stopped fighting and just leaned into him.

”This what you wanted?“ you asked.

”Somethin‘ like it.“ he said, voice low but you could hear the smile in it.

You twisted in his arms, facing him. His arms loosened around you but stayed on your hips. For a moment you were both just looking at each other, sun lit, soaked but smiling. Your hand resting on his stomach, his warm skin a contrast to the water.

There was a energy in the air. Neither of you leaned in or kissed the other. But it felt close.

For now though you just slipped out of his arms and swam away with a teasing grin, making him chase you again.

The bike roared off into the night air as you stepped onto the porch later that day, hair still damp, a little sunburned, the sleeves of Jax hoodie tugged over your hands.

Piney was on his usual chair on the porch, beer in hand, oxygen machine humming beside him.

”You and that boy been spending a lot of time lately.“ he said.

”Yeah,“ you answered ”Just catching up while I’m home.“

Piney hummed low.

”Just seems like you’re smiling more these days.“

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your mouth twitched lightly.

”Is that your subtle way of asking questions without asking them?“

He let out a short laugh.

”Ain’t none of my business unless you want it to be.“ he answered.

”It’s nothing.“ you shrugged ”We‘re just closer now.. you know… with everything happening.“ you said. Piney nodded, knowing how much you missed your big brother.

There was a bonfire the club had thrown. Beer, barbecue, music and lawnchairs.

You were sitting a bit to the side, next to Jax on a log, sipping from a beer you’ve barely touched. He was closer than necessary, your knees brushing. The light from the fire illuminated you both in a soft glow. You tried not to stare but failed. You were wearing Jax hoodie again, had been every night since the day at the lake.

The song changed to a familiar tune.

”So, you gonna dance with me, Teller?“ you asked, a smirk on your face.

”That a challenge, Winston?“ he said leaning back onto his hands.

”That’s a dare.“

He chuckled as he stood, brushing off his jeans. Then he extended a hand.

”Alright. Let’s go, college girl.“

You took it and let him pull you up. It was warm, calloused and familiar.

The grass is cool under your bare feet. No one was watching you too closely as Jax placed his hand gently on your waist and yours coming up to his shoulders.

”Don’t step onto my toes.“ you warned

”Wouldn’t dare.“ he grinned

Jax looked at you, wearing his clothes, in the soft light of the fire, barefeet. He knew it was a cliche. Falling for his best friends sister. The girl Opie had always told him was off limits. He hadn’t planned this but it just felt right with you.

You looked up at him then, a small smile on your face, and Jax swore his fucking heart stopped. He hadn’t felt like this in ages. Not since Tara. And that was years ago.

”What?“ you asked, a little teasing, a little breathless.

”Just enjoy the moment, me dancing won’t happen that soon again.“

You narrowed your eyes slightly ”We‘ll see about that.“

Afterwards you found yourselves sitting with the others. You sat between Jax legs on the ground as he sat on a low log behind you, arms on his knees. Laughing at something Tig said. It was good, comfortable, perfect. You didn’t hate college but this here felt like home. You didn’t have to pretend. You grew up around these people and yeah, you knew what was going on in the club, the dark side of it but these guys were your family.

”You heading back soon?“ Jax asked in a low tone, pulling your attention back to him.

”Couple more weeks.“ you answered ”Trying not to think about it.“

Jax nodded.

”You ever think about stayin‘?“

”Yeah,“ you said truthfully ”but it’s only one more year until I’m finished, so…“

”You comin‘ back afterwards?“ he asked

”Not sure yet. But Charming’s home and I miss it.“ you told him, and it was true.

”Charming‘s not the same without you, Darlin‘“ he told you.

You smiled and leaned back into him a little more. His arms wrapped around your pulling you closer. You didn’t press it further. It was not the night for confessions.

But when he drove you home that evening, walking you up the porch he lingered a little, his hand grazing the small of your back as he hugged you goodnight.

You smoothed your hands down your jeans as you waited for Opie.

Jax sat beside you, Kutte left in your car, arms crossed. His knee kept bouncing under the table.

And then you spotted him. His eyes softened as he saw you two.

You all talked a little, Jax gave some brief updates on the club, you told him about Piney. Your and Jax knees touching softly under the table as he told your brother about some funny thing that happened, you laughing along, adding some comments.

Opie’s eyes narrowed a little

”You two been spendin‘ a lot of time together, huh?“ he asked.

”Someone’s gotta keep her from getting into trouble while you’re in here.“ Jax shrugged, a little too casual.

”Like I’m the one starting bar fights.“ you rolled your eyes with a smile.

Opie leaned back in his chair, eyes still on you.

”What’ve you been up to this summer?“ he asked then.

”Oh, you know. Spending time with Donna and the kids. Doctors visits with Dad. Stopping by the club. Reading.“ you rattled off.

”Going to the lake.“ Jax added. You nudged him under the table.

Opie raised a brow ”The lake, huh?“

”Just hanging out.“ you shrugged ”Like we always have.“

He didn’t say anything else but the look on his face told you he didn’t quiet bought it.

”You look good, kid. Take care, okay?“ Opie said after the guards signaled that the visits were over.

”I will. You too.“ you said throat feeling tight.

Jax and him said their goodbyes afterwards.

”I’m watching you, Teller.“ Opie said as he walked away, not unkind but pointed.

You stood at your car hugging your father to say goodbye.

Piney let out a little chuckle as he parted from you.

”Guess I’m not the only one who’s gonna miss you.“

You furrowed your brows for a second before you heard the steps behind you.

As you turned you saw Jax standing behind you, hands buried in his pockets.

”Hi.“ you said

”Hey.“ he nodded back

”I’ll leave you kids too it.“ your dad said as he stepped back into the house.

You shifted on your feet as the screen door creaked shut behind your dad.

”So… this is it for now.“ you said, offering a small smile.

He nodded, stepping a little closer ”Yeah, guess so.“.

You reached for him first. Arms wrapping around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He held you just as close, burying his face in your neck.

”Promise me you’ll call.“ you murmured.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. The look he gave you almost undid you.

”If you promise me you’ll answer.“ he said

You nodded ”Always.“

He exhaled, then brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek.

”It’s been a good summer.“

”The best.“ You smiled.

He leaned in then, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

”Be safe.“ he said.

”You too.“ you whispered.

And then you climbed into your old car. Piney came back into the driveway.

You waved at them both before you drove away. With a heavy feeling in your heart.

[fruitiesss]

Just got the idea for Frank x Super soldier! Fem reader, possibly related to Bucky somehow. Maybe what they both see in the void

Little angsty and fluffy ending please?

yesyes sorry this took a few days ^^ and it's kinda short woops, I tried my best! The angst is slightly short lived, I made their shame rooms conjoined bc that's kinda cute. enjoy <3 w/c: 800

Black.

That was what Frank had seen before he was plunged into his own personal hell. He always saw stuff like this when he closed his eyes, when he slept, but those were lucid and fuzzy. This was real.

He could hear the carousel behind them, standing completely still as he watched that day play over and over and over, again and again and again. His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes trained on the barrel of the gun that took everything from him.

Frank had tried to intervene a few times, to rewrite the agonising memory enacting before him to no avail. After the first dozen gun shots he couldn't take it. He started to run, fleeing from his family once again, the very thing that got them killed, until he reached a wall. Some kind of set, a hard surface depicting the background of the park, trees and concession stands painted on. He cocked an eyebrow at this, raising his hand and banging on the wall a few times. His head spun around, the gunshots ringing again in the distance. And then he body slammed the wall, once, twice, three times, until he was sent barrelling through it and onto a hard floor. "Shit," He grumbled, kneeling and brushing himself off.

You never saw the void coming. One moment you'd sat down to have lunch with your boyfriend and the next, you were pulled back into the depths of your memory. Something you had buried deep down.

The stench of damp and rot clouded your senses, freezing metal pressed against your face and restraining your limbs to a chair. Only able to look around, you noticed professional-looking equipment surrounding you, harsh lights somehow barely illuminating the abundance of medical trays and tools. You couldn't scream, the harsh sound dying in your throat.

After a few agonisingly slow moments, the wall to your left splintered, Frank rolling through it and landing on his side. With a hiss, he stood and brushed the dust and wood from his clothes. The sound finally ripped from your throat, a loud and broken sob catching Frank's attention as his head snapped to yours. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his feet moving before his mind could even process the situation to pry the metal from your limbs.

"Shit, shit, what the fuck," He growled as he tried to warp the thick metal. Giving up, he surveyed the chair you were restrained to, desperately searching for some kind of button or release valve. "C'mon, baby, I got ya. I'll get you outta here, jus' hold on." Your gaze met his briefly while the muscles in your arms strained against your restraints, the material creaking under the pressure. Frank sees this, fitting his calloused fingers beneath the gap you'd made and pulling with all his might — finally freeing the cuff from it's latch.

You gasped, pulling your wrist from the groove and ripping the cuff from your other one, crying with effort. Frank helped free your ankles, pulling you onto your feet and holding your hand gently in his, pulling you close to him. "Now where the fuck are we." He huffed, looking around. Your eyes darkened, gaze dropping to the floor as Frank furiously looked around, squeezing your hand.

"Don't worry," You sighed, running a hand through your sweat-slicked hair.

Frank gave you a stern look, his grip tightening. "You can talk to me, doll."

You shook your head, and Frank took it as a sign to stop pushing. He pulled you towards the other edge of the room, away from the hole he'd made in the wall. "C'mon."

You blinked, and suddenly you were freed from the confines of the black, of the dark. No longer in that damned room but in the exact spot across from Frank in the diner you'd sat down to have lunch in. Frank blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the sudden light of day through the window. He looked around, hands braced against the table. "What the fuck." He cursed, lifting himself up to look around at the other customers, how they seemed to be coming out of a similar nightmare.

His hand then found yours, dropping himself into the plush leather seat of the booth. "Whatever that was, doll, I don't trust it. Fuckin' supernatural shit happens too much in this god damn city."

You laughed, shaking your head and glancing to the counter. "Could you get me a milkshake to make me feel better, Frankie?"

His smile returned at your laugh, gaze trained on your face. "Of course, of course, gotta make sure my girl stays happy, huh."

[aventurineswife]

Prince!Kaveh x Librarian!Veritas x Knight!Reader. I don't really have a specific idea in mind.. maybe angst with a happy ending? The prince is in a secret relationship with both Veritas and Reader, but they constantly have to hide their relationship away from the public due to it's nature, so they always meet secretly behind closed doors and wary nights away from the prying eyes... I have no idea how this will have a happy ending, but oh well. Can be one part or multiple ones. Whatever you see fit!

A Love Not Meant to Hide

Summary: Kaveh, a prince torn by the weight of his secret relationships, struggles with the pressures of living in the shadows with both Ratio, the brilliant intellectual, and you, his loyal knight. Despite the love and connection they share, secrecy takes its toll on their bond. As tensions rise, they come to a turning point where they must decide whether to continue hiding their love or face the world, no matter the consequences. Together, they find strength in each other and take a bold step toward living their truth, no longer fearing judgment or the price of their love.

Tags: Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Polyamory, Angst, Romance, Hidden Love, Emotional Struggle, Slow Burn, Introspection, Knight x Prince x Poet, Secrets, Self-Acceptance, Character Growth.

Warnings: Mild angst, Emotional conflict, Secrecy, Self-doubt, Societal judgment, Adult themes (related to relationships).

The moonlight slanted through the cracks in the high tower’s windows, casting long shadows on the stone floor. Kaveh stood by the window, looking out into the vast expanse of night. His hair seemed to glow, even in the dim light, and his sharp eyes reflected the quiet turmoil inside. His mind raced, as it always did in moments like these. The weight of his secret relationships with both Ratio and you, the knight, pressed down on him like a thousand-pound stone.

The silence was broken by a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Kaveh’s voice was strained, but calm—an echo of the serene face he showed the world. It was only in these hidden moments, with you and Ratio, that his true vulnerability would come to light.

You entered first, your heavy armor clinking softly as you walked, your expression full of resolve. You always carried that quiet strength, the one that made him feel grounded even when everything else around him felt like it was on the verge of falling apart.

Behind you, Ratio stepped in, his usual self-assured stride a little more cautious tonight. His hair, as always, swept across his face in a way that seemed deliberate, adding to his aloof yet magnetic presence. His piercing eyes studied Kaveh, as if seeking answers to questions Kaveh had yet to voice aloud.

"How long will this continue, Kaveh?" Ratio asked, his voice sharp, yet there was an underlying softness—concern, maybe. His intellect rarely softened in such moments, but Kaveh knew the gravity of his words. This secrecy was starting to wear on them all.

Kaveh turned to face the two of you, his hands gripping the edges of the windowsill, the weight of his own ideals and sacrifice heavy on his shoulders.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," he admitted quietly, his voice trembling only slightly. "Being with both of you in secret, hiding everything from the world—it’s tearing me apart."

You stepped closer, your presence a calm beacon in the storm of his emotions. Kaveh’s eyes met yours, and you could see the exhaustion, the self-doubt, the vulnerability he so rarely let anyone see. You reached out, your hand resting on his arm, grounding him in the warmth of your touch.

"Do you think we’re happy with this too?" you asked softly, your voice steady but full of pain. "But we understand why we must keep it hidden. For your safety, for all our safety."

Ratio’s eyes flicked to you, a fleeting moment of shared understanding before he turned back to Kaveh. "I have no patience for this secrecy," he said bluntly, "but I also understand its necessity. The truth must come out eventually. We cannot live like this forever."

Kaveh let out a long sigh, leaning into your touch as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the present. "I want to be with both of you, openly. I want to share our love with the world. But I fear the consequences… the backlash, the judgment. You both deserve more than this shadowed life."

You gave a soft, bitter laugh. "We both knew the risks when we decided to be with you, Kaveh. We knew what it would cost us. But our love... our bond... that’s worth any sacrifice."

There was a long pause, filled only with the heavy sound of breaths in the silence. Kaveh, for all his brilliance and idealism, had always been afraid—afraid of losing the people he loved, afraid of the world’s unforgiving gaze. But now, in the quiet sanctuary of their secret meeting place, he realized something important.

You and Ratio, despite the differences in your worlds, had always been there for him. Both of you had offered him your support, your trust, and above all, your love. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop hiding.

"Maybe… maybe it’s time we take the risk," Kaveh said, his voice stronger now. "Maybe the world will never understand, but we don’t have to live for their approval. We live for each other."

Ratio was silent for a long moment before nodding, a rare warmth in his gaze. "If you’re ready, then so am I. We all deserve to live freely—without fear."

You smiled softly, stepping closer to Kaveh and pulling him into an embrace. "No matter what happens, Kaveh, we’re in this together. All of us."

Kaveh let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his heart lighter than it had been in months. With you and Ratio by his side, he felt a spark of hope for the first time in ages. They would face the consequences, whatever they might be, together.

In that moment, the three of them stood there, in the quiet warmth of a hidden room, with nothing but the sound of their hearts beating in unison. It wasn’t perfect—nothing ever was—but it was real. And that was enough.

The day came when the three of them were no longer willing to live in fear. Kaveh made a bold decision—he would no longer hide in the shadows of his love. Together, they faced the world, each step forward a testament to their courage, their love, and their belief in each other.

The road ahead would be difficult—society wasn’t kind to those who defied its rules—but for Kaveh, Ratio, and you, the journey was worth every challenge. After all, the beauty of love, like the beauty of art, had the power to change the world. And as long as they had each other, nothing could ever tear them apart.

In time, the world would come to see that the bond they shared was something worth celebrating—proof that love, in all its forms, could bloom even in the darkest of places.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the greatest masterpiece they could ever create.

[catelyngrant]

I will admit that, after last week's FEAST, I flew a little too close to the sun* with expectations for this week's double feature. That's on me.

Random and disorganized thoughts/spoilers!

The good:

Okay so first don't get me wrong, Deborah and Ava being The Worst while fighting but then even more obnoxious when not fighting is everything??? Their lunch with Jimmy and that little stairwell scene were just delightful and their honeymoon era is delicious to watch as a viewer/shipper but also I feel like anyone who has to deal with them regularly would not be convicted by any jury for whatever ends they may be driven to.

DJ is always a slam dunk. The "you ruin everything" territory was covered so well during the NA scene last season that it felt like frustrating ground to retread (see below) but I DID love her using the grandma access trump card. She had that speech prepared and I respect it.

Grandma Deborah/Aunt Deborah was so soft in the moments Jean let it be, and I really, really loved both those moments and how carefully she chose them.

DJ telling Ava why she chose her as godmother was so, so, so lovely and a scene I've wanted for a long time.

DJ's belief system is kind of mine too, tbh? And obviously obsessed with her using Catholicism as a D'Jewelry peddling scheme. It's always nice to see her and Deborah bonding through bitchiness, too.

Marcus's hair growing back was maybe the funniest thing in both episodes; that, or Jurassic Park (organ version).

I really, really loved the Mayor Jo storyline! The scene where they talk at her house is really a surprisingly beautiful one, and I appreciated so much how both actresses played it.

Nina is a chaotic nightmare as always and while I want to sleep on the childfree storyline, when she dropped "I'm worried you're not going to have kids" in the kitchen I absolutely lost it.

The not so good:

We get it: everyone wants to be on Hacks! Cameos galore! Alllll the (white) actors! The show is better when it has a core cast and deploys guest starts strategically, and that hasn't been the case this season. Dance Mom was funny and relevant at first; I'm done now (Julianne Nicholson's performance notwithstanding). Seth Rogen is great, and sure, let's stick Kiki in there for a hot second to be window dressing as an afterthought. Marcus's two scenes really only made me remember how much they didn't ever follow through on his complicated relationships with Deborah or Ava. I really, really hope that season five remembers what—apart from the Deborah and Ava of it all—made the show so special and successful to begin with.

That doesn't mean bring Marty back, though. It means get rid of Bob Lipka, please and thank you! As soon as Deborah walked into the house and saw that box, my heart sank.

Backing up: Deborah's scene at the christening didn't ring true. A) her scene with DJ at the NA meeting last season covered the "you ruin every event for me" both beautifully and explicitly, and even if it hadn't, the combination of a) just...why? It felt so forced, but also b) she is a VERY PUBLIC FIGURE right now and well aware of the stakes that come with that! That's a wholeass plot point!

The Jimmy and Kayla of it all...argh. I'm so mixed. On the one hand, I'm so, so ready for Paul Downs to get to play the absolute fucking breakdown that's been years in the making, but on the other hand, I just don't give a fuck about so much of it. It feels like another overplayed hand.

Part of me actually did think it would be kind of funny/tragic/interesting if that dog bite fully kills him? Like...they could do something with that! (They won't, but they could!)

I'm not sure how I feel about the "Deborah's flown too close to the sun" arc? The success is thrilling, we know that, we've seen versions of that montage...it does, though, feel like an interruption of the "Deborah realizes that Late Night is no longer her dream and s5 is all about her and Ava figuring out what their dream is and making it come true" arc that it feels like has been building so steadily and beautifully?

And dear LORD pls do not put her and Ava at odds again, I see Ava's valid suspicion but I need that dealt with and squashed stat. Ideally in a way that involves an "I love you" being dropped bc I have money on that being Said Out Loud by the end of the season.

Seriously, I do not want Bob fucking Lipka to be a thing and I'm very mad that he is, however predictable it was.

I will be rewatching, as always, and I'm sure there's more (especially about the Winnie of it all, which I'm mixed at best on upon first viewing but am marinating on and need to watch again).

[pastafossa]

"Don't Let Go" (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Fic)

Time for Day Six of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! I chose the angst prompt, "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." with Michael Kinsella! I originally planned to use all three prompts (the above plus 'love bites' and 'spread your legs for me') but this one just sorta worked beautifully focusing on the angst prompt alone, despite my plan. May come back and do a sequel with the other two prompts eventually. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings for this chapter: angst, blood, injury care, mention of reader briefly held hostage, language, mention of domestic violence, some shouting and breaking things (Michael is very angry here, just not at you).

His hands shaking, Michael cleaned you up in the bathroom.

You weren’t sure if that tremor was due to fear, or… or exhaustion, maybe. He probably hadn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights while you’d been missing, held captive in an abandoned building by a group of men who’d been looking to blackmail the Kinsella family. It hadn’t worked out well for them based on the dead bodies you’d seen when Michael had grimly carried you out past his brothers, his hands stained heavily with blood and smelling of fresh gunpowder. 

It was those hands—the very same hands that had so recently dealt out death and destruction—that now tended gently to your wounds. With barely a word save a soothing murmur whenever you winced, he washed away the crusted grime and dried blood from your body in the shower before settling you down on the side of the porcelain tub. Once you were comfortable, he set about cleaning out and bandaging the bloody cuts on your hands and face, the torn skin on your wrists left by the handcuffs, and the burns along your forearm from the cigarettes one man had decided to put out against your skin when you’d spat in his face.

With every injury Michael cared for, however, the more his hands shook, his breathing growing sharper, hissing out from between his clenched teeth. 

No. This wasn’t fear or exhaustion making his hands shake, you realized. This was… 

He rose from where he’d been kneeling in front of you. He stared down at you for a moment with those dark eyes of his, taking all of you in for the first time since bringing you back home—taking in every last swollen bruise and vicious cut, every bandage and mark of pain left behind by those who had wanted to harm his family by using you against him.

…This was rage.

He snatched up the first aid kit, turned, and hurled it with a furious scream. It shattered against the wall in the hall, its impact leaving a crumbling hole in the drywall. Gauze and ointment, bottles of pills and splinters of plastic scattered left and right.

“Michael,” you said weakly. “I’m ok now.”

It was as if he hadn’t even heard you. “I’m goin’ ta find the rest of ‘em and kill 'em for this!” he snarled savagely, his accent even thicker in his fury. Gone was the gentle lilt, the familiar softness he always seemed to gain in his voice when he spoke to you or about you. Now he was every inch the dangerous Kinsella that so many feared, though not you. Never you. Even now you weren’t afraid, despite the way he whirled and paced wildly in front of you, as if looking for the very same ones who’d so recently hurt you. This was rage in your defense, and that made all the difference. 

“Michael—”

“They think I can’t find ‘em?” he spat. “They really think I can’t? I’ll hunt down every last fuckin’ one’a them filthy little cunts fer puttin’ their hands on ya! By the time I’m done wit’ em, there won’t be enough’a their fuckin’ bodies left for their mams to bloody bury!”

This time it was the drinking glass on the counter that paid the price. It flew out into the hall to shatter violently against the wall just beside the mark left by the first aid kit. Glittering shards of glass, some pieces still damp, joined the rest of the debris on the floor.  

“Michael.” You heaved yourself upright on shaky legs, wobbly as a newborn fawn. And it hurt, it hurt to move, cuts tugging, body aching. You tried to blink the dampness away in your eyes, not now, come on. “It’s alright—” “Don’t tell me it’s alright when they hurt ya!” he roared. But the moment he swung back around to face you and saw you on your feet, he spat out a curse. He stormed across the bathroom before you could take more than a step. “Daft woman, sit your arse back down before ya fall over!”

One hand still braced against the wall, you lifted your other arm quickly towards him. He lurched to a stop before he could touch you, an expression of horror twisting across his face, all furrowed brow and parted lips. Only then did you realize what that must have looked like to him—your arm held up to fend him off, trying to stop him from coming towards you, tears in your eyes as if you were… as if you were terrified of him and what he had been doing. 

Gone in a breath was the rage, the fury, replaced by a gutted, heartbroken grief. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have said he was about to cry, too. “Ya didn’t think I was goin’ to…” he whispered, swallowing hard and taking a cautious step back. “I… I swear, pet, I would never—” 

“God, no, Mikey. I know you weren’t going to hit me,” you croaked, trying to put your arm out again in a more welcoming way, and if your breath started to hitch, tears now beginning to roll down your cheeks despite your best efforts, well, surely you were entitled to that, because it had been a horrible few days and the longer you stood here, the more you began to shiver and hurt. It had only been a few minutes since you’d been in his arms, but your body clearly wasn’t ready yet for even that much separation. Emotion welled up inside you like a dark wave, endless, bottomless. You were terrified you’d drown beneath it without him to help you keep your head above water. “I was trying to… could you come over here and… and hold me? I just need…”

He caught you just as the first choked sob tore its way out of your throat, the strength of the sound so violent, so raw it almost frightened you. One of his arms quickly wound around your waist, pulling you in against the comforting, familiar warmth and strength of his chest. His other hand rose to gently cradle the back of your head, bringing your head down so you could bury it against his neck. He rumbled low, soothing notes into your ear, tender words of comfort as you desperately tried to breathe in the scent of whiskey and leather, gun oil and rain between your heaving breaths and broken sobs.

“There ya go. Shh, I’ve got ya now, pet,” he whispered, laying his cheek against your hair. He shifted the two of you carefully across the floor until he could ease himself down on top of the toilet seat, pulling you slowly into his lap. You went without a fight, clinging to him, the fabric of his shirt held tight between your fists as if it were your lifeline. “I’ve got ya now. Let it all out. I’m here, darlin’. Yer safe with me.” 

“Don’t let go,” you choked out, “Please.” “Never. I promise.”

[sulky-cabbage]

The sukugo fight can't get animated any sooner I'm craving sukugo tiktok edits

[lupismaris]

There is nothing so affirming and life saving as leaving home and being loved at face value by total strangers for who you are

[lanternlightss]

as of late i have been haunted by the thoughts of venti + vennessa + nameless bard polycule . they are . in mybrain

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: break-up, angst, hung-up yandere, anger issues, insecurity, threats to regrets

♡ GN reader

Thinking about pro-athlete ex-boyfriend… 

You know, the one you broke up with because he couldn't focus on anything but his career, the one you just couldn’t stand by and watch any longer as he nearly ran his health into the ground—not to mention your relationship—all to reach his goals.

He’d been so mean—meaner than you ever thought possible when you told him you couldn’t do this anymore—said it was a real class act of you to abandon him now when it mattered most. He’d made it about you not wanting a pipe-dreaming wannabe sportsman for a boyfriend, how you never believed in him anyway, how you never cheered for him, how he thinks you don’t even want to see him succeed. 

He’d been so loud and so ugly you’d been in shock for weeks afterward, unable to wrap your head around it. You didn’t even dare tell anyone—feeling it was a beast of burden you ought to keep for yourself. Oddly enough, you felt that if anyone knew or saw him like that, it would be not just detrimental to him and his image but embarrassing for you both.

And you hadn't spoken to him since. At least not face-to-face. He’d sent you a few drunk texts then and there, which you’d replied to in short, though mostly ignored. You’d thought about blocking him at one point, but you didn’t want to be dramatic, either. And suppose, in some way, you were still waiting for an apology.

But months passed, and nothing like it ever came, and so, instead of being bitter, you accepted that was just how the two of you ended. And that was that. 

Still, it's a little awkward. You wonder if you should congratulate him on his rise in popularity, how he’s finally getting all those long hours spent training back in full—but somehow, you feel it would just sound petty coming from you. And so, you don’t bother.

He’s got other people in his life cheering him on now—he doesn’t need a measly text from his ex. No, it's better to leave it be, is what you think.

Which is why it’s surprising when you get the dinner invitation. 

And following the initial surprise, you don’t really know what to expect of it either. But you end up accepting—some part out of curiosity, wondering what he might want after all this time, and another part hopeful it was to finally address the awful break up so that the both of you could move on without it hanging heavy over your heads and hearts.

This, however, was the last thing you had in mind when sitting down with him for the first time in a long time.

“Will you marry me?”

Your whole body flares up with something reminiscent of the feeling when you trip and fall—that type of split burn that rushes through you from head to toe and then leaves you feeling cold all over. Heart in your throat, you’re speechless.

Or no, you just don’t know where to begin.

“What are you doing?” you end up accusing—a little too harshly, maybe, but who could blame you? Looking around, you’re glad your table’s in a more private sector of the restaurant before you look back at him, eyes wide and brows knit. 

“I–we broke up a year ago and haven’t seen each other since—and you’re—” Your eyes fall back to the thing in his hands. It’s an outrageous ring. “Asking me to marry you?”

He makes no move to withdraw the offer—keeping his hands where they are, on your side of the table. “You said yes to the dinner. That must mean something. I thought—”

“Yeah. It means that I still worry about you,” you say. “It doesn't mean–”

“I fought my way up. I’m finally at the top,” he cuts you off in earnest. “I’m the best, and the world finally knows it now–”

“I don't care about any of that,” you state, feeling it should have been something you told him from the very beginning. “I'm sorry. But I never cared about you being the best. I just wanted…”

You just wanted the two of you to be like other couples—together and happy. You just wanted that to be enough, but it never was for him.

“Never mind…” you end up saying. “I think I should go.”

You’re about to get up when his hand, suddenly around your wrist, tightens in a harsh grip.

“I don't think you understand,” he utters, voice lowered with a hint of a growl. “It’s either this ring or I bury you in rumors that won’t leave you a moment’s worth of peace.” 

You go stiff while looking back at him.

Did he just… did he just threaten you?

You blink. He's got that same warped expression you remember from the last time you saw him, that very odd look as if the guy you know has been switched out with someone entirely different.

Only this time, it just as quickly disappears, and he lets go of your wrist, quickly pulling his hand to himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that–I’m just—” he apologizes with a stutter, looking startled.

He puts his face in his hands. Then there's a sound—close to a sob.

“I’m just a mess without you.”

Goosebumps rise on the surface of your skin when hearing it. And swallowing thickly, you sit back down again, albeit a bit begrudgingly. But spotting how he trembles, you just can’t stop feeling sorry for him.

You sigh. “No, you’re not. You just…” Reaching across the table, you stroke his arm. “You just lose your head a little sometimes, that’s all.” 

He peaks up from his hands. A sheen under his eyes reflects the ceiling light, and your heart twists in your chest.

He really is a mess.

“But I know you…” you try smiling. “You were always destined for greatness.”

He takes your offered hand in his, stroking it, then sniffs, voice fluttering weakly, “Yeah, well…”

He keeps his head low, resting it in his other hand as if he just couldn't muster the strength to sit straight or even attempt to pull himself together.

“If I'm so great, why wouldn’t you stay?”

He sounds as if he’s been holding things back for the entirety of the year since you left. Broken now... it's all spilling out.

“Because," you start, even though your throat’s tight and you’re fighting back tears of your own, your mind hasn’t changed.

You didn’t come here to get back together. 

"You want to go places, I just can’t follow.”

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