#before i face the horrors of day to day life

[lokidjarin-7567]

I Hate It Here

Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Hi all! If anyone else is like me, I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Squid Game since watching season two, and wrote this piece on my fav this season! I still have a poll up on my page for what other characters I should write about (accidentally set it to a week rather than a day oops), so if you have any other requests, drop a vote there, and specific suggestions in my comments or asks if you have any. This also happens to be the longest fluff piece I've ever written, so I hope its ok! Will add another chapter if people like. Enjoy <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.

After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?

You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.

Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.

You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.

His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.

And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…

You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.

“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.

“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.

“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.

“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.

“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”

“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.

“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.

“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.

He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.

“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.

“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.

“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.

“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.

“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.

Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.

They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.

“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.

“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.

“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.

“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.” Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.

“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”

The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.

The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.

It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.

Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…

Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.

“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.

Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.

It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…

Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.

“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.

“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.

“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.

By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.

Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.

“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.

While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.

“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.

“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.

“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.

“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”

“You don’t name someone after their hair!”

“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.

"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."

“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”

“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.

“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.

“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.

“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”

“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.

“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.

“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.

“That would be perfect.”

It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.

“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”

Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.

It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.

“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.

“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.

"Goodnight, kind angel."

[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[myownwholewildworld]

Love is heartbreak

↪ a the age of adaline inspired fic

pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise? author's note: yes, i've cheated on my other wips, I'M SORRY. but when the angst and romance call, i can only answer - i am only human afterall. hope you like this little story that was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being this long, oops! comments and reblogs appreciated. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. soulmates trope. angst, romance, smut. mild breeding kink (soz). infidelity. mention of SA (not by Marcus) and death. dual pov. reader is female and a blank slate. reader is close to 150 years old (stopped ageing in her twenties) and Marcus is in his fifties. not beta'd and very lightly proofread, apologies if you spot any mistakes lol wordcount: ~8.4k. divider by @\saradika-graphics

“I’ll do anything to stay by your side, amica mea (my beloved). I don’t care about what the future holds if it’s not with you,” Marcus’ broad hands held yours, his thumb drawing invisible circles on the back of your hands.

You hated this — how your heart twisted inside you, torn apart by the choice you had to make. Was this never-ending life not enough punishment? No, you also had to go through heartbreak — your own and Marcus’. For love, you had to.

With eyes averted, you looked down at your worn sandals. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterlines as your vision became blurry with sadness, regrets and fears washed over you like the Tiber kissing the shore goodbye.

In your hundred years wandering the ground beneath your feet, you never had to go through this. Always so careful not to feel, not to grow close to anyone, not to really live the life you wanted, and now you were in a position where it almost felt too real.

Within reach — you only had to extend your hands and hug him in a tight, soothing embrace. Only needed to accept the life that Marcus was offering. Though as much as you wanted to��you wanted it, him, so badly—you could never.

And what was worst, you couldn’t explain why. First you would see the horror in his eyes, that frightened look glittering, then incomprehension, and finally disgust. Your heart couldn’t take it.

“But I do care, Marcus. Yours is bright, your military career is about to take off. I would only hinder you, your dreams. I am no one, and—” you tried to reason with him.

But love was blind. Love was deaf. Love didn’t care about impossibilities, because love was defiant.

At least his was.

“Do you think I care about being disowned? Do you truly believe that I would choose such dreadful life over you? Over a wonderful life with the person I love most?” Marcus squeezed your hands before one of his found your chin, tilting up your face to him. “Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori (love conquers all, let us too yield to love).”

You shook your head in denial, his words ringing in your ears like chants of war. Because Marcus waged war in all aspects of life, even in love — he’d conquered your heart so fully, you’d never asked him to return it. It would forever be his to cherish, to cry over, to destroy, to hate.

Because he would need to hate you to overcome the heartbreak you were about to cause.

“You don’t have a choice here. You are to marry the lady your family has arranged for; her family’s prestige will do you good. You’re just infatuated, Marcus, it isn’t true love,” you forced yourself to let a soft laugh out, wiping your tears as you took a step back. “At least, for me, it isn’t.”

Marcus’ expression folded and your heart with him. You hated yourself for saying such a vile lie, but a necessary one. The passage of time would not affect you, always stagnant in your early twenties after a fateful day when Juno decided to save your life from certain death. The Goddess of love and marriage was also one known for Her eternal youthfulness — one She would only share with those who had been wronged. And you had been so wronged in your mortal life.

And here you were, so close to committing the same mistake all over again. But you knew better this time — not because you didn’t trust Marcus, but because Fate was capricious. It didn’t matter if Juno was watching over you.

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. This is true love, lux mihi (my light), one that would live through eternity,” Marcus muttered breathlessly, reaching for you again, looking for that unbreakable connection you both strongly shared.

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus,” you retorted, forcing your tone to sound mocking.

Another step back with an unmovable expression and you saw realisation dawning on him. Slowly like a river widening its meanders, steady like the constant flow of water. Relentless you were, steadfast in your resolution.

“Ave atque vale (hail and farewell), Acacius,” were your last words to him.

35 years later...

“Father, may I marry her?”

Marcus gazed down the dining table, eyeing his son with consideration. He knew what it felt like, how true love messed up your head to the point of madness. He had felt that way only once in his life, and it wasn’t for the woman sitting beside him.

As cruel as it sounded, Marcus never loved his wife, because his heart belonged to someone else — the now hazy memory of a woman who always lingered on the edges of his mind. A cruel reminder of how feeble and fleeting love was, how love turned into heartbreak with just a few words.

“At least, for me, it isn’t.”

That sentence alone had broken him, his ability to feel some sort of romantic connection died that very same day. At night it would haunt him, filling his dreams with nightmares. The same scene playing over and over in his mind, his heart cracking even more every time those words would hit him.

He’d waited for weeks, months. A year it took him to realise you truly were not coming back, that you meant it. He’d only been a plaything for you, a toy you discarded once things got too real. And at that point he surrendered to the pressure his family put on him. Marcus had followed through with the arranged marriage in the end, despite the agony and the empty hole in his chest.

And now his son was following in his footsteps. His heir looked so much like him, like a reflection of the past staring back at him. It pained him — he saw himself in Magnus, almost as if the roles had reversed and he was his own father thirty-five years ago. Pleading, asking to marry the love of his life even though his hand had already been promised in holy matrimony to another.

His wife, Prisca, waved one of her hands with disdain, the spoon clattering on the porcelain plate.

“Nonsense, Magnus,” she tutted at their son. “We’ve already been through this. You will marry Verina. You’d put us in a very compromised position with Gellius if you don’t.”

“But—”

“Quit your whining and man up, my son. Gellius is the Emperor’s best counsellor. It will bring our family great reputation,” Prisca reasoned, tone poisoned with greed. “And riches.”

“Father?” Magnus’ eyes shot to his, pleading him to intervene.

Marcus sensed Prisca stiffening besides him, gripping the arms of the chair like a vice. He didn’t look in her direction but knew how her orbs distilled venom. She would never understand what their son was talking about, but he did. Too damn right.

“I would like to meet her before giving you my blessing,” he spoke calmly, lacing his hands together on top of the wooden table.

Magnus’ eyes sparked up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.

“Of course, of course! She’s waiting right outside,” and then his son hurried out of the room.

Prisca stood up, the screeching noise of the chair’s legs irritating Marcus.

“Like father, like son,” she muttered maliciously before disappearing too.

In this moment of silent respite, Marcus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. The patience he had to muster was titanic. His life had been nothing but heartache and war, his son being the only reason he stood by his wife’s side in public. He’d tired of the pantomime, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He would meet the woman who had stolen Magnus’ heart, just to make sure there was no deception from her part. Marcus wouldn’t wish for his son to go through the same heartbreak as him. If everything was at it should, then he wouldn’t oppose.

“Father,” Magnus called, and Marcus removed the hand from his exhausted, battle-scarred face.

His heart literally stopped.

A warm smile softened your expression when Magnus asked you to join his family in the dining hall. You had been sitting patiently in a small waiting room, wondering if this was right.

The first time you had laid eyes on Magnus a week ago, your heart jolted, and your mind went blank. He reminded you so much of your one and only true love, the one you ditched thirty-five years ago because you were too afraid to embrace the beautiful life he had offered you. The one you still felt in your heart, dormant yet very present in your everyday life.

Perhaps it was wrong of you to encourage this situation, whatever this was. When Magnus had asked you that morning to join his family for supper, he had caught you off guard, so you found yourself agreeing to it.

Deep down you knew why you hadn’t disappeared yet: you wanted to live this moment one more time. Wanted to remember how it felt to be loved so fiercely by Marcus, a yearning you’d been craving for over three decades. Only this man wasn’t Marcus, only someone who was his spitting image.

One dinner, a few hours more of playing pretend, and then you’d vanish again. Leave Rome behind after such brief visit before someone recognised you. You couldn’t afford to give any explanations, so you’d only visit this place once every decade.

You walked behind Magnus, head slightly bowed and hands laced in front of you. Magnus’ broad body blocked your vision, but soon enough he stepped aside to introduce you.

You curtsied, eyes averted, fixed on the marble slabs.

Before you straightened your back and introduced yourself, the man across the room spoke your name — your real birthname.

Inevitably, your heart sank to your belly with panic and your eyes quickly drifted up to meet the darkened ones you once had allowed yourself to swim in.

Marcus. Your Marcus.

Your heart raced in your chest and filled with pure joy. You couldn’t stop the smile that had started curling your lips nor the glassiness of your eyes.

Your one and true love was staring back at you with widened, tired eyes. He had gotten up off his chair and was striding towards you before he suddenly halted a couple of meters away from you with confusion painting his handsome features. Ones that had not remained impassible to the passage of time and war, but ones that you daydreamed about every single day without fail.

So within reach — you would only need to close the distance between you two and hug him, hug him till dawn and never let go. Oh, how much you missed him, how much you still loved him. With your whole heart, the one that ached and wept with regret in your chest right now.

Would he love you back? Did you break the love you shared past the point of mending?

“What? Her name is Aurora, father,” Magnus chuckled nervously, his eyes dancing between the two of you, puzzled. “This is the woman who has stolen my heart. I would like to marry the love of my life with your blessing.”

Your eyes flew from Marcus to Magnus at the revelation, bewildered. Marriage? Was this what it was all about, the purpose of his invitation to meet his family? Marcus’ son wanted to marry you?

You had not seen that coming, as it wasn’t your intention at all. You had only wanted to live this fleeting fantasy of yours for a few days, but there wasn’t love. Not like the one you felt for Marcus, that could never compare.

“Your name is Aurora?” Marcus’ question forced you to look in his direction, your heart twisting maddingly inside you. You nodded with hesitation, “I thought you were…” Marcus pronounced your real name again, the sinking pit of your stomach churning.

“That was my mother,” you quickly came up with a lie. You could never tell him the truth.

“Your mother,” he repeated slowly, shock and pain transforming his beautiful face. “I knew your mother.”

“What? Really?” Magnus intervened with a laugh, palming his father’s shoulder. “That’s such a coincidence!”

You looked at both of them, but your eyes inevitably lingered on Marcus’ darkened ones. Would he believe your lie? Again?

“The resemblance with her is… uncanny. You look so much like her, Aurora,” Marcus rasped, taking a step back and steeling his posture with determination.

He didn’t need to speak for you knew his hurt. Because the same memories that were flooding his mind, had been drowning you for decades.

The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken truths, your face burning — you loathed yourself for the pain you had caused him. Pain that still contorted his expression every time his eyes flicked to yours.

Would he ever forgive you? Would he know that you lied so many years ago? That you truly and irremediably loved him? That you would always do?

You bowed down your head, mainly to conceal the unspent tears brimming on your waterlines.

“So I have been told, General,” you muttered softly as Magnus’ hand rested easily on the small of your back, his lips brushing your temple gently.

“I know this may seem sudden, father, but I know that Aurora is the one,” Magnus confessed shyly, pulling your body towards him in a warm half-embrace.

Never in your life had you wished yourself to disappear so badly. Marcus’ sight burnt through you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate him. The sadness—no, the heartbreak—in them was like a dagger through your heart, and you wondered if the decision you made so many years ago had been the right one.

By the looks of it, he had done well for himself, just as you had imagined he would. The villa was beautiful, sumptuous even. It spoke of his status in the Empire, how highly rewarded he had been for his enterprise. You assumed that Marcus had married eventually after you left, and you only hoped he’d married for love.

“I see,” Marcus murmured in reply to his son, walking back to his chair. “Let’s eat first. Prisca, my wife, won’t be joining us. She had to excuse herself because she wasn’t feeling well. Please forgive her absence.”

Prisca. So he hadn’t married for love, his family had won and forced him into an arranged marriage after all. Your heart cried for him, for the injustice you had showered upon him with your departure. Perhaps he ended up loving her so his life wouldn’t be as miserable.

That last thought stung, the dagger further twisting in your heart. You wanted his happiness, but selfishly you hoped Marcus still loved you. Undeserving of such love you were, that was clear to you, but you still hoped anyway.

“Of course, Dominus,” you hushed as Magnus guided you to an empty chair.

The food served was delicious, but the silence looming over the table tinged the atmosphere uncomfortable. Magnus did a remarkable effort to keep the conversation going, but Marcus’ succinct replies didn’t leave much room for chatter. And when Magnus pushed again about the marriage proposal—to you dismay—Marcus said that it could discussed tomorrow over breakfast.

Even though the man in front of you had aged, you still saw him as he was thirty-five years ago. He had a scar on his upper cheek and across the bridge of his aquiline nose, crows feet kissing the corners of his brown eyes, his thick curls were greying, and his demeanour was more stoic, but he was still your Marcus.

The only difference though was his lack of… life. His eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, they were tinted with darkness and sorrow. Had war changed him? Had you changed him?

Your throat collapsed on itself, tightening to the point of suffocation. Just in time, you reined in the tears as the last maid removed the plate in front of you.

“I should be going,” you announced, pushing back the chair to stand up.

Marcus sprung to his feet before his son did. And when he realised his promptness, he cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

“It’s late,” Magnus said, standing up to be by your side, throwing a confused glance to his father. “Could she stay the night, father, please?”

Marcus nodded.

“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the empty chambers,” Marcus conceded, walking around the table to meet his son.

“Oh,” Magnus sighed, and you knew he’d hoped to share a bed with you tonight.

Your face burnt once more with shame when Marcus’ eyes looked for yours. However, you didn’t meet his gaze, scared of what you would find in it.

“Thank you, General, you are most generous,” you husked in a low voice.

“I will show you around the villa in the meantime, amica mea,” Magnus said, his hand quick to rest on the back of your waist.

You subtly flinched at his endearment. That was what his father always called you. It felt wrong when he said it now, completely out of place — it didn’t at first, when you looked at him and imagined he was Marcus instead. But with the love of your life standing firm in front of you, it sounded so vile.

This fantasy of yours was a dangerous game, one you didn’t want to play. Not if it meant hurting Marcus again, because you could see the way he studied you. How his pupils dilated with anger every time his son would seek your touch. It was killing him, and you in the process. When everyone went to sleep, you would leave in the middle of the night, as the shadow you were condemned to be.

Magnus urged you to turn around and walk beside him, when you heard Marcus gasp.

“Your birthmark,” his words stopped you right in your tracks.

When Juno touched you to bring you back to life over a century ago, Her caress left a mark on the back of your left shoulder. The shape resembled that of a peacock, the loyal animal known to accompany the Goddess.

“What about it?” Magnus intervened, confused by the interruption.

Slowly you looked over your shoulder to glance at Marcus. His eyes were a window to his restless, half soul, desperate and blown — he knew. He searched your face for a crack, a way in, but your expression didn’t tumble.

You wished you could veer around and throw yourself in his arms, kiss him and apologise, ask him to take you back. But you just couldn’t. Love was heartbreak, and it would have to remain that way if you didn’t want to hurt Marcus even more than what you already had.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, jaw tight with a tic on the muscle.

Marcus stirred in bed, unable to get any sleep.

Your face haunted him brighter than ever — every time his eyes shut, your sorry expression would gnaw at the confines of his mind. Seeing you right in front of him after so many years, all curled up to his son’s side, drove him mad.

At first, he thought himself crazy. You looked exactly as you did thirty-five years ago — not even a wrinkle kissed your skin, not a greying hair anywhere to be seen in your plaited hair. So when you explained you were the daughter of the woman who broke his heart, he had believed you.

That was until he saw the birthmark on your shoulder. The unmistakable shape he had joked about in the past, telling you that you had been kissed by Juno Herself at birth. It was impossible that you had inherited such a peculiar mark.

But it was even more impossible that you had remained as youthful as you were, as if not a single day had passed. How was that even possible? Some people were gifted with slow ageing, he had seen some, but to remain exactly the same? No, there was something else lurking, an explanation he could not grasp because it was too surreal, too unfathomable for a mortal.

Marcus needed answers. His mind was a tangled mess, this new discovery shining a different light on the conversation that destroyed him over three decades ago. Did your words have a meaning he had not been able to see before?

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus.”

What had you truly meant by that? Did you understand what eternity really was in a level he couldn’t even start to comprehend?

Heart pounding, he quietly removed the covers and sat on the bed. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Prisca was sound asleep. Not that she would miss him anyway.

In darkness, Marcus palmed around until he found his toga and quickly changed to then walk out of his bedchamber with a clear destination in mind.

He trudged along the cold corridors of his villa until he found the door to the room you were sleeping in. For a second, he doubted, thinking he was crazy for the implausible reason taking form in his mind. But if it wasn’t that—that you were, somehow, ageless—he still needed to know why. Why hadn’t you aged? Why leave him? Why not tell him the truth?

As his shaky hand lifted and curled to knock on the wooden plank, the door swung open.

You appeared under the doorframe with a wild expression and widened eyes, obviously in a hurry to leave. Again.

“Marcus,” you gasped, one hand flying to your chest in surprise as your beautiful eyes met his.

He froze in place, all the words he had planned to say stuck to the back of his throat, forming a lump that would not let him speak. Your beauty was dazzling, but it was the buried love he harboured for you what stopped him from talking as it resurfaced.

His memory of you had not faded, able to remember every single feature of your face regardless the passage of time. Everything about you was engraved in his mind, but he had almost forgotten how sweet you smelt. Roses, with an earthy hint of grass.

As your scent numbed his mind, Marcus finally found his dry tongue.

“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave again,” he begged in a hoarse whisper, his eyes diving in yours.

You looked up at him and he felt himself under a spell. The same one you had him under years ago, when the heart was shattered and the mind bleak. Because even when you waved him goodbye, he still loved you. Never stopped, was never able to hate you for what you did, what you said.

“Can we talk?” he pushed before realising your eyes were glassy with sadness. “I know your name is not Aurora. I know it’s you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as a single tear fell from the cliff of your lashes. Moved by his own ghost of the past, Marcus reached for your cheek with his palm, the thumb brushing away the tears that followed the first one.

You let go of a deep sigh, kissed the palm of his hand and nodded. His heart was beating so loud, so fast, he almost missed your words.

“I owe you an explanation, Marcus,” you finally spoke, a broken sob almost tearing his resolution.

As you stepped aside, Marcus came into the room you were so eager to leave behind. Your heartbeat had spiked the moment you saw him and hadn’t slowed down since then. Perhaps you didn’t die of heartbreak but could die of a heart attack.

For decades you had been running until you found him. Until Marcus made you believe you could have everything he promised. It had been the first time you had actually considered growing roots. But the thought of not being able to grow old, to see the love of your life wither away while you remained sane, was paralysing. You had panicked — too scared to accept the love of a man who would give up everything for you, too frightened to trust someone again.

But was Marcus not worthy of your trust? He demonstrated repeatedly how he would always protect you, always cherish you. Not only with words, but with actions too. He had been so considerate, so loving, for a moment in the past you thought it a ruse. How could someone be so damn perfect and still be real?

Your heart clenched in pain, seeing him latch the door behind him and turn around to face you. The look of confusion, of sorrow, ate at your conscience. Under the candlelight, his torn features stuck out, time unforgiving. He was still gorgeous, would always be in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped out before the quivering of your bottom lip let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I didn’t know Magnus was your son, otherwise I would have never—” you shook your head, taming your cries. “I should have known. He looks so much like you. When I first saw him, I thought it was you. That somehow you had been able to still time and be with me.”

You sobbed a pitiful laugh, unable to look him in the eye. It was shameful having to admit something like this — that you had chased after a boy because he reminded you of someone you loved. But despite your immortality, you were still capable of human mistakes.

“So you didn’t know he was my son?” Marcus asked quietly. You could see the inner workings of his mind ruminating as you shook your head no. “Do you love him? Were you really going to marry him?”

The questions caught you off guard. Although at some point you were expecting them, you didn’t think it would be this early in conversation. It might be for the better if it got out of the way as soon as possible, so you could explain yourself.

The first cut would be the deepest, although the rest would still hurt.

“I love the idea of him,” you emphasized, ashamed of yourself for giving in to such fantasy. “I thought I could love him the way I did you, that he could be a vessel of my love for you. That I could, for a few days, remember how it felt— how you felt. That I could have you one more time,” you paused and sighed, intertwining your hands together to twist them nervously. “I only met him a week ago, marriage did not cross my mind at all. I was going to leave once—”

“Once it got too serious,” he finished for you.

Marcus went quiet again, his eyes transfixed on you. You wished Juno blessed you with the ability to read minds, to know what he was thinking right this moment. Did he hate you for what you just revealed? Did he think you were sick for trying to live out a fleeting dream? Would he forgive you for such despicable behaviour?

“Do you still love me?” his gravelly voice was so low, for a moment you thought you had imagined it.

But the doubt, the fresh hurt in his wounded gaze, told you otherwise.

You gaped for air, your lungs strained with sorrow. You should fib, stand by your initial lie, tell him you didn’t. But what had that gotten you the first time around except for a life of misery and loneliness? What had that gotten him?

“I do. I do love you, Marcus,” you whispered, out of breath due to the pounding of your heart. “Couldn’t be any other way. You’re the other half of my soul that I’ve been missing for so long.”

Time stilled as you looked Marcus dead in the eyes. You were not expecting anything out of your raw confession, because the time for those had passed. It was what you should have said thirty-five years ago, not now. You were too late to mend the love that had slipped through the cracks of time.

“Then that’s all that matters,” he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with emotion.

The admission shook you. Could this be true, really happening? Did he still love you after all this time?

In a couple of strides, you found yourself in his arms, the way it should have been ages ago. His forearms wrapped around you like a warm blanket as his head bowed down to taste your lips.

You kissed him back, first sweetly, then fiercely. You kissed him with all the unexpressed love you held in your heart, with the passion your true love deserved. His tongue was as sweet as you remembered, as soothing as your memory recalled. A dance ensued, his tongue reading a love letter to yours.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, drifted up to cradle his face — his moustache and stubble pickling the skin of your palms. Marcus untied his mouth from yours to kiss your tears goodbye, then pressed a peck on your forehead. His heart was beating as loud as yours, in unison like true soulmates.

“I’ve missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, lux mihi,” he confessed under his breath. “Life was never the same after you left.”

His admission made your heart flutter even further, and you couldn’t help but let your hands roam his back. Your fingers played with the knot holding the toga in place, his seeping warmth beckoning.

“I need you, Marcus. Make love to me,” you pleaded, leaving a love trail of kisses on his neck.

Marcus’ chest rumbled at your plea, his lips hunting down yours in a heartbeat. His hands were quick with your clothing, worshipping the curves of your body as it was revealed to him. You did the same with his toga, until you were both bare, standing in front of each other.

You saw his eyes lingering on every nook and cranny of your skin before they found yours. A thunder of connection ran through you, of yearning. On your tiptoes, you kissed him again, pressing your breasts onto his chest while your fingertips traced the map of his back.

You didn’t expect all the bumps and grooves you found on his skin; battle scars dotted around everywhere. Some thick and protuberant, some thin and soft. Marcus keened at your touch, silently letting you know that some of them were too sensitive to be caressed.

How much hurt his body and heart had endured, a life dedicated to war and duty. Your heart cried for him, for not being able to be by his side when he needed you most. Had you taken up his offer, had he run away from responsibility with you, his skin would tell a different story.

But the past couldn’t be changed, only the present was malleable enough to shape a new future.

Slowly he pushed you towards the bed, his hands resting on either side of your waist while his thumb drew lazy circles on your bristled skin. Raking your fingers through his silver curls, you leaned back on the mattress, his warm body blanketing yours.

His hands found the apex of your breasts, soft fingers rubbing your taut nipples as your head tilted back. Marcus licked the salt of your exposed neck, finding your pulse point. He kissed the spot and lingered, your vein pulsing against his lips as one of his hands discovered the slick your thighs harboured for him.

The feathery caress of his ring finger outlining your seam turned you into a whimpering mess. His pad stroked your nub, a slight flick followed before it slid down your slit and found your weeping hole. He circled it a few times, taunting you effortlessly, before returning to your clit.

You heaved, lips pursed so your moans would stay contained. In the dead of the night, you worried this show of love would seep through the walls. But not even the thought of his marriage, the thought of Magnus lying in bed a few rooms over, could stop you from joining your bodies together the way the Gods intended.

Marcus’ mouth travelled down the column of your neck, kissing the center of your clavicle before he went further down. Your unattended nipple was soon enough smothered by the wetness between his lips, and you fisted his hair in response, gently tugging at it.

“Marcus,” you moaned, eyes shut. Rejoiced.

One nipple drowned in his spit, the other pinched between his fingers, and his ring finger pressing tight circles on your thudding clit had you fighting to remain silent. But the moment the hand between your hands moved down and his digit teased your walls apart as it sank in your slick warmth, you couldn’t stop the muffled yet loud moan.

“Sing for me, meum corculum (my little heart),” Marcus husked. The gentle pumping of his finger in your wet heat had you quietly howling a few seconds later. “That’s it.”

Your felt your walls contract, pulse around his finger, holding onto him for dear life. Feeling your need as his own, Marcus dunked his middle finger in your pussy too, stretching you while his thumb stroked your clit. The combination of it all made you clench around him, almost begging for release.

“Let go for me,” Marcus asked between licks, and you couldn’t resist his prayer.

The coil that had been tightening inside you finally snapped, releasing a wave that coursed through your quaking body like a tumultuous sea. Your back slightly arched as your thighs trembled around his forearm, chest rising with a dire need for oxygen.

Marcus chuckled softly, setting your nipple free as he searched for your mouth again. He devoured you as you came down from your high, his erect cock gently resting on your mound. The weight of it on your sensitive skin felt like it belonged. The anticipation of welcoming him inside you made you gush.

“Let me drink you, kiss you, savour you,” he pressed a kiss on your mouth after each pause.

Your skin flushed; the proposition was somewhat indecent. It was lewd, frowned upon, and you were tethered to the chains of social decency. But there was nothing decent about infidelity, after all.

“Please, mea vita (my life). I can make you reach for the moon and the stars in the ceiling above if you let me, make you touch them,” he promised.

You shyly nodded, and his boyish grin grew wider, his lips tensing. So contagious, you smiled back as he came off you and moved your body until your butt was on the edge of the mattress.

He scooted you over towards him until the back of your knees were resting on his shoulders — leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lingered on your leaking dampness, his dilated pupils tracing the outline of your seam. The intensity of it all, the deep connection, made your thighs press together against his neck, wanting to hide your core from him.

You had nothing to be shy of, as Marcus had already seen you bare before. Sex with him had always been ardent, fervent — the heat of passion always got the best of you both, a certain urgency to consummate your love. But now? Now was different. There was no rush in his movements, in how his thumbs pried your pussy lips open, in how his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. His calm confidence in taking you as he had promised was new to you, who never had all the time in the world. But right now, you did. For Marcus, you did. Always would.

Your lashes fluttered, kissing the apples of your cheeks the moment the languid strokes of his tongue met your swollen flaps. He kissed one gently, then the other, before the wet muscle lapped from your gushing hole up to your clit. So venerating were his licks, your limbs relaxed at the intimate kiss.

“You taste like ambrosia, lux mihi. The best relish I have ever been graced with,” his hot breath collided with the cold skin on your slit, your body trembling in response.

“Marcus, please,” you begged, although you were not sure why, or what you were asking of him.

He didn’t leave you waiting again. His fingers sank in the flesh of your thighs while his tongue dived inside your slick furrow. So dextrous were his charges, you couldn’t help but mewl like a starved kitten in a back alley asking for leftovers. First, he flicked your excited bundle of nerves, and then he suckled on it, his jaw working you through the climb to another orgasm. The buildup was intense, but it became feverish the moment his finger joined the action — it slid easily inside, curled to caress the precise spongy spot of your arousal.

Unaware of your own actions, one of your hands slithered down your belly until you fisted his curls — pushing him towards the centre of your heat, not away from it. He hadn’t lied — the stars appeared behind your eyes, bright like the future you wished you had with him. A sea of constellations, all imploding at once in an amazing rain of stars that blinded you as you came crashing down from the skies.

You heaved and wailed his name in ecstasy, your entire body quivering with the strength of a thousand suns. Your entrance clenched around his finger as you held your breasts, your thumbs ghosting the taut buttons. You leaked your pleasure on his mouth, and he drank unashamedly, grateful of your offering.

A sweet kiss on your mound before he towered over you, and you could only look at him in awe with raw, true love. When his battered body blanketed yours, you draped your arms around his waist, hands lightly resting on his lower back. The knowing smirk on his lips spoke of a muted “I told you so.”

“I love you,” he whispered instead.

Your heart swooned and healed and cried and exploded. All at once. He hadn’t said those exact words yet, but they were veiled in every sentence, every action he had said or done tonight. Deep inside you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown to hate you, that his love for you remained intact despite heartache, circumstances and time.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled up, ones that Marcus drank too. As he did, your palms stroked his ribs, careful to avoid the scars you had come to learn were too delicate. Eager, one slid off his skin until your fingers wrapped around his throbbing manhood. Eyes down, you saw the pearly bead of pre-cum commending you to butter it on his flushed head. With your thumb you caressed the tip, and Marcus’ lips parted in need — an invitation you quickly accepted, dunking your tongue in his mouth.

A few pumps had him groaning and soon enough you were guiding him to the pocket of heat between your thighs. His cockhead kissed your gushing entrance the same way his lips did — knowing, denuded, possessing. And slowly he made his way in, parting your flesh like a new stream disturbing the earth beneath. The burning sting was most welcomed, blossoming into a fullness you had craved for decades.

“I’m home,” Marcus rasped when he was fully seated in your cunt.

Your throat clamped a little, emotion overtaking your senses the same way his erection did.

“Welcome home, dilectus (beloved),” you muttered with a loving smile and teary eyes.

You melted into a slow kiss as Marcus rocked his hips, rutting into you almost lethargically, wanting the moment to last. You let him set the pace, the drag of his cock in your pussy a delight that had you reaching for the stars again and your inner walls squeezing him tight. The sweet rhythm of his swaying tightened the slick, hot coil that pooled low in your belly, and the moment Marcus gained momentum, you followed.

Needily he started fucking into you with precision, chasing both of your highs. His dick pulsed inside you, your heartbeat instinctually adapting to his in a second. Both so close to the sky above, gasping for air now, you rocked underneath him to amplify such pleasure.

“Marcus,” you whimpered, your hands now cradling his face. You lost yourself in his eyes, blown and loving. “Please, inside,” was everything you murmured.

Even after your petition, the snap of his hips against yours didn’t falter. Instead, the pace increased as his wild orbs studied your blissed out expression.

“Do you mean it?” You nodded effusively. “Do you want your belly round with my child?”

You didn’t even know if it was possible — yes, you looked young but were closer to a hundred and fifty years on this earth than to the day you were born. The fertility of your womb was one you never dared to test in your immortal life, but the thought of having such a memory—someone—to remember him by when the days grew cold and the nights dark was overpowering reality.

“Yes, I do,” you reassured him, pecking his lips softly.

His head fell, his face resting on the crook of your neck, while he made love to you. His moves stuttered, announcing his climax, and your pussy hugged him tight in a natural response. The moment the first ropes hit your cervix, you came undone too. As Marcus filled you with his warm spent, you creamed around his beating girth, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your back arched and your nipples kissed his chest.

It took both of you a few minutes to come down, for the haze of lovemaking to slowly dissolve in the musky air. Marcus hungered for your lips and he hunted them down with eagerness. Your bodies finally untied, his cock leaving you empty yet satisfied.

You hoped—prayed—his seed would take root in your womb. Even if it was impossible, the sliver of a miraculous possibility gave you a resemblance of hope. So you pressed your thighs together, greedy of his gift.

Marcus rolled off you, falling onto his tummy besides you. Quickly you laid on your side, your fingertips tracing the lines of his skin again. A feathery touch to alleviate the harshness of life. He unburied his face from the pillow and turned to look at you.

His smile was instant, and so was yours.

For an hour no words were spoken at all, no sleep was achieved either. You both remained silent, staring at each other, soaking up the love that flooded the chamber.

Replacing your fingers with your lips, you kissed the scars on his back, his shoulders, his arms. And finally his nose and cheek, where you dawdled as if your caress could erase the pain they inflicted.

“What are we going to do, amica mea?” Marcus husked after what felt like an eternity.

Reality set in, leaving a gaping hole in your belly. What could you do? Would you be strong enough to stay by his side for however long the goddess Mors took to claim him? Strong enough to build a life you knew was ephemeral? And once he was gone from this mortal plane, what would be left of you?

The choice was an impossible one. One that you should have made decades ago, when the heart was whole and the mind still strong. Now you knew how arduous life was without him, how—for years—you had looked for him in the small details and every single man who resembled him, how the regret and the grief haunted you at every turn of a decade. Now you knew that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t have Marcus to share it with.

You traced the profile of his nose with your lips before pressing a soft kiss on his.

“I am not sure, but I am willing to try… if you are,” you whispered, leaning back.

The implications of such life were huge for him. Married, with a son who though himself in love with you, an acclaimed General who served Rome even when Rome didn’t serve him. His responsibilities were greater than yours, Marcus had so much to lose. Had you accepted his proposal when you should have, neither of you would be in such dire situation.

Marcus sighed heavily, rolling onto his side to face you. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, his eyes filled with a determination you wished you had back then, when life was easier.

“There is nothing nor no one that could stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” he mumbled, hand dropping to your hip. “I said it then, and I will say it again: I do not care for this life if you are not with me. I don’t care about reputation nor retaliation. For over fifty years I have done what was expected of me, and I am done living my life for Rome and her vice. You’re the stars that light up my path in the darkest of nights, the warm sun that guides me home. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be with you. My heart was always yours, mea vita, since the moment I landed eyes on you. And I don’t want it back, ever, even if you have to leave again.”

The softness of his delivery, the truth his words emanated, brought tears to your eyes. You thought yourself unworthy of his love, his devotion, when you had only caused heartbreak. But this was your second chance, one you were not going to let go.

You moved closer to him as his arm wrapped around you. With your forehead resting on his naked chest, you traced invisible lines on his ribs.

“I won’t leave. That broke me once, can’t handle it a second time. I love you and want to spend the rest of our time together showing you how much I do, making up for lost time. For however long,” you repeated, kissing his chin.

There was a brief pause, and you knew what his next words would be.

“How old are you?” the question you had always avoided, dreaded.

“Close to three times your age,” you confessed, looking up at him through your lashes.

The answer slowly sank in, but instead of horror, incomprehension and disgust, you only found acceptance. As if it was just another fact about you, nothing of major importance.

“You look amazing for being close to one hundred and fifty years of age,” he joked with a grin to lighten the mood. You let out a soft laugh in response. “How? If you want to share.”

The story of how you came to be ageless wasn’t a pleasant one. But your life was full of secrets that had ruined every human link you had to this earth, and you wouldn’t let them spoil the only real connection you had left.

“I… I was promised to a man, one who I thought was worthy of my love. There were things I was blind to at that time, and only time showed them to me. I thought everything was going as expected, he was always so courteous and respectful in public. Until our wedding night, when he…” you paused, the memories too painful even after all this time, “he abused me, and let his friends use me. When they were done, they left me for dead in a ditch.”

Marcus’ arm draped around you tighter, his heart beating so loud you could hear it thumping against his chest. He hugged you close, his warmth calming and reassuring. Marcus was nothing like that man, if your abuser could even be considered a person. You knew he never would be so despicable — you were as sure as the first lights of the sun would wake you up tomorrow.

“It took me hours to finally drift away. And when I did, Juno greeted me. Said the man had wronged me, and that I should have a second chance to understand what marriage and true love actually were about. Then she touched me right here,” you caressed the peacock-shaped birthmark, “and breathed life into me.”

Marcus leaned back a little to inspect your torn features. The heartache he had to endure paled in comparison to yours. How could someone inflict such hurt on another? He couldn’t even fathom such disgusting scenario. That man was the reincarnation of evil, and he wished he suffered the most agonising death.

He had only seen your soul’s purity, your kindness, your benevolence. Anyone who didn’t was blind.

“You did not deserve that ending, amica mea — no one does. He didn’t deserve you,” his heart cried for you, for the weight you had carried for over a century. “You’ve got the purest heart I have ever known. A soul that I will protect until my dying breath.”

“A half soul,” you interrupted him, and Marcus looked at you confused. “Because your other half completes mine.”

His heart jolted, this time because of the sweetness of your confession. That muscle had grown bigger in the last two hours than in his entire lifetime. He sworn himself to stand by your side, come what may. You would never be wronged again, not if he could avoid it.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Marcus declared without skipping a beat.

“What? What about your wife, your son?” your eyes had widened, but his resolution was firm.

“My wife… she’s not been my wife for years. She’s poison. And my son…” he shrugged, conflicted. “He’ll eventually understand, or so I hope. I believe he might already have an inkling that something weird was at play from the moment I said your real name.”

“Marcus, are you sure? You’d be sacrificing so much for me, I wouldn’t want to—”

He didn’t let you finish, his mouth covering yours in a passionate kiss that slowly turned gentle and soothing. Your hands caressing his battle-scarred skin was like a balm; your touch the first and only one to cure all his ailments. Unhurriedly, he sat back up on the bed, dragging you with him.

“Let’s leave now. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” Marcus purred against your lips.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both clothed and atop of two horses, blending in with the shadows of the night that concealed your departures, in search of a new life. Together.

taglist: @orcasoul @lilac-boo @picketniffler @almostfoxglove @gothcsz @liciafonseca @namenotimportant1373

[villainbait]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Sukuna x reader | Sukuna x genderless reader Rating: 16+ Tags: brief gore mention, canon sukuna behavior, angst, thriller, horror if you squint, drama, reincarnation, Summary: "I will find you." In your past life, you were Sukuna's jailer. In this one, you're simply an office worker hoping the King of Curses has simply forgotten you. Word Count: 750~ A/N: Sorry for the Sukuna jumpscare? I feel like most of you follow me for Sylus/LADS content, but I wrote this drabble as a warm up. ♥

“Hey, did you hear?” 

You half tune out the notorious office gossip, though you’d be lying if you didn’t sometimes enjoy hearing the petty drama happening within jujutsu society. The two in suits next to you were hardly attempting to keep their voices down, anyway. 

“The King of Curses is back.” 

You choke on your food. 

“Yeah man, he manifested after a thousand years inside some pink haired high school kid. Kid isn’t even a sorcerer, everyone’s shocked he didn’t die.” You took a chance and peeked at the guy sharing the gossip just in time to see him look disgusted. “I heard he actually ate the finger. What kind of psychopath just eats a cursed object, sorcerer or not?”  

Unbidden, a memory surfaced. 

“I will always find you, in every life if I must.” His four hands wrap around the bars despite the barrier and you feel the cursed energy keeping him confined shudder, but the wards hold fast as he slams himself against his cage. “You cannot escape me.”

The threat rings in your head like it was uttered yesterday, instead of a thousand years ago. 

“Get this, rumor is kid can control him.” 

You can’t help the dry snort of laughter that makes them look at you strangely but you ignore them and take a bite of your food that suddenly tastes like sandpaper as you fight the bubbling panic. 

The thought of your life being in the hands of a teenager’s control didn’t comfort you. You pulled out your phone and thumbed through your contacts, your finger hovering over Gojo Satoru’s number. Even if the head of the Gojo clan did answer your unknown call (unlikely), he was so lackadaisical that you had little hope of him taking you seriously at all.

The rest of the day ends in a blur of boring meetings and other tedious jobs that are handed down to worker bees like you and your other coworkers. Once or twice you were reprimanded by your superior for your lack of attention, but the conversation kept replaying that you had overheard at lunch; distracting you.

You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sukuna might have forgotten you, knowing full well he would never forget his gaoler. As you made your way to the train station, your anxiety eased with the realization that he didn’t know what you looked like in this century. You were lucky to have been reincarnated with a face that did not look like the original one you wore when you had met Ryomen Sukuna a thousand years ago when you had imprisoned him.

With his threat still ringing faintly in your ears, you stepped up to the yellow line and waited; your mind adrift as another long forgotten memory swirled beneath the surface.

His breath feathers across your ear and you shudder. “Beg me,” he murmurs, clawed fingertips raking across your stomach with a deceptively delicate touch. He could slice right through you, and you both knew it. “Beg me to save you.” 

“Sukuna,” you whispered his name with reverence and heard his breath catch from behind you. “Sukuna please, they’re coming.” 

“I’ll hear your explanation after,” he hissed and released you abruptly, joy splashing across his face at the prospect of a fight. It’s over before it had a chance to begin, the group of Heian sorcerers reduced to mere ribbons of flesh piled neatly on the ground. In an odd twist of fate, they had been hunting you, not Sukuna and he wanted to know why. It was clear you had intrigued him. 

“Weak.” Condescension drips from his tone, clearly unimpressed by their prowess and power. He flicks the remnants of flesh and blood from his fingers as if such filth is not worthy to touch his skin. 

He stalks towards you with the lazy ease of a prowling beast and you desperately want to run again. Not that you’d make it a single step, so you don’t even try. He reaches for you–

The announcement snaps you out of your thoughts as you’re pushed towards the entrance of the train.

“Rapid train bound for Shinjuku will be arriving at platform 3 shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line and wait.”

Little did you know as you boarded the train, a certain pink-haired young man had been standing four rows down, staring curiously at you the entire time as a certain curse sweetly whispered convincingly to him.

[tellmegoodbye]

It's my first (official) Wip Wednesday of 2025!

I couldn't decide which WIP to share, so we're double dipping today.

Thank you @thisbuildinghasfeelings @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @strandnreyes @bonheur-cafe @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @carlossreaders @heartstringsduet and @lemonlyman-dotcom for tagging me!

This first snippet is from my spicy d/s fic, and I know @heartstringsduet will appreciate me finally sharing more of this fic.

TK Strand is no stranger to submission. He fancies himself somewhat of an expert on the subject of his own likes and dislikes, and if he happens to enjoy a little bondage here or a little dirty talk there, he's not about to shy away from that. The concept of total submission is so much bigger than that though, and TK isn't sure if he's ever been able to fully wrap his head around it. To him, there's power in being held down, knowing he can give as good as he takes, knowing that he could easily have his partner a shivering mess beneath him, but choosing to give his body over to them instead. Being overpowered and fucked so hard that he could feel it in his marked up thighs all week – that is power. That is freedom. But he would never go as far as to call it subspace – not when every description of it he's ever come across is so much deeper and fulfilling than anything he has ever experienced. Part of him wanted to chalk it up to fantasy, something that might just exist in stories that are created specifically to be thrilling and sexy. And he was okay with that. He never had any desire to create such a feeling and simultaneously turn everything he's ever known about the power of sex on its head. He's never felt safe enough. Then Carlos Reyes came barreling into his life.

This next snippet is from my murder mystery AU!

Sharp gusts of wind nip at his wrists and neck, seeking out every small expanse of exposed skin currently unprotected by the material of his APD windbreaker, which he's come to realize is a size too big on him. It figures that his uniform isn't a perfect fit just yet, but he would have preferred to find out on a warmer day is all. This must be what he gets for transferring in the middle of January. The crime scene is particularly obscured by the medical examiner's van from where he's standing, and TK can't see where Carlos went, but he's not particularly concerned with his whereabouts at the moment. He takes a deep breath and takes an inventory of the scene around him, grounding his senses with each exhale. There's a flurry of flashing lights. From cell phones, from cameras belonging to the local news station. The sound of each snap of a picture mingles with the murmurs and footsteps from onlookers, drowning out the distant sounds of traffic on the other side of the alley, where the rest of the world moves forward in spite of the tragedy before them. There's a muted commotion accumulating along the flimsy police tape. It rattles against the forceful winds, a harsh, piercing noise dragging TK's attention away from the familiar dread that lies beyond the border. He's stepped over that line so many times and faced some of the worst horrors this world has to offer, and yet taking those first steps never seems to get any easier. “Strand,” Carlos’ voice snaps through the hazy chaos. “Get over here.”

Tagging: @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @eclectic-sassycoweyes @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @morganaspendragonss @carlos-tk @henrygrass @futures-tense @goodways @decafdino @lightningboltreader @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @butchreyes + open tag!

[heesterical]

Birthday wishes - Heeseung.

Pairing : Heeseung x F!Reader.

Synopsis: It’s your birthday and you wanted to spend it with Heeseung but he's busy, so you hang out with your friends instead. However, when you reach home, there’s a surprise waiting for you.

Genre: Fluff. Hurt(?)-comfort.

Wc: 1.2k.

Note: rewrote this omg, the old one was hellish to read but it's cute

Birthdays are special.  

To some, it’s the one day of the year they allow themselves to indulge, to feel truly seen and appreciated. To others, it’s just another day.

But when something — or someone — important is missing, it’s like your heart is searching, and even a special day feels a little less whole without it.

You don’t mean to sound ungrateful, of course. 

You had tried to push it aside, focusing on your friends, your laughter, and the small distractions that kept you moving. Yet, as the day wound down and you returned home, the emptiness returned with vengeance.

“It’s just a birthday,” You mutter, fumbling for your keys. “I’ll get to  spend time with him soon, and it won’t even matter.”

Being an idol meant dedicating your whole time and life to your career; which you understood.

You understood, but it still sucked. 

It sucked that whenever you were free, he wasn’t. 

It sucked when you text or call him, he’s usually busy enough to not be able to respond until later.

It sucked that you couldn't go on dates with each other freely, that you can’t flaunt your relationship openly. 

And it definitely sucked that you were standing in front of your door and sulking to yourself, when you should be going in and winding down for the night.

You had been putting up with your friends teasing all day about how you were ‘moping around because you missed your boyfriend.’ You roll your eyes at the memory, unlocking the door, and walking in.

And immediately get a sense that something is off.

You grope at the wall trying to locate the light switch, while trying not to trip over the welcome rug that, in hindsight, seems like a bad choice.

You scan the space in front of you-or whatever you can see of it anyway, from the dim hallway light streaming in through the glass pane above the door. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but the brief moment of feeling like someone else was inside makes you uneasy.

You weren’t exactly the bravest person. Especially so when you were alone. And in the dark. Which you were right now.

You feel your finger brush the switch and you slightly sigh in relief, flicking the light on, when you suddenly feel an arm around your waist and-

“Boo.”

You shriek hearing the low voice in your ear, swinging your hand around, nailing the intruder right in the jaw amidst your freak out, not registering the familiar touch and voice.

“OW! Hey!”

You hear an all too familiar yelp and voice of protest as you swing around, looking up- only to see a frowning Heeseung rubbing at his face, his other hand held up in surrender as you gape at him.

“It’s me- it’s just me. Calm down.”

You continue staring at him, wondering what the fuck was going on.

“Calm down?” you demand in a breathy voice, your hand on your chest as you attempt to calm your raging heartbeat.

“You- you rascal! You nearly scared me to death!” You swat at him, chasing him inside as he desperately tries to get away from your flailing fists.

Heeseung bolts behind the couch, a mischievous grin plastered on his face as he shifts from side to side, evading your attempts to corner him. “I finally got you back for all of your jumpscares~” he teases, ducking as you swipe at him.

Then, with a dramatic flair, he adds, “I mean, you scream like you’re auditioning for a horror movie. Should I be worried?”

You pause for a moment to snatch up a pillow before turning to him. “Oh, you’re so done!”

Before he can dodge, you launch the pillow straight at his head. It lands with a satisfying thwack!, leaving him sputtering and laughing as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to surprise you.”

He doesn’t really sound sorry, so you march forward instead, grabbing the fallen pillow and pounding him with it as he laughs, falling onto the couch and pulling you with him.

“I really don’t know whether I want to kiss you or to shove you off a bridge right now.” You glare at him, wiggling in an attempt to get away from his hold.

“Can I pick?” He asks, a cheeky smile on his face, as you try to struggle out of his embrace, but he chuckles, tightening his hold on you, just watching you put up a fight.

“What are they feeding you?”

“What?”

“How are you so strong?” you grumble, visibly giving up and going limp in his arms. He laughs at your reaction, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

“Happy birthday, love.”

His hold on you gentles, and his eyes are so warm and fond that you can't stop the smile that tugs at your lips.

You know what you wanted to do with him now. 

You wanted to kiss him.

So you did - leaning up and pecking his lips once, twice and thrice; and pull away to look at him. But he pulls you back to him again, kissing you slowly, his hands sliding up your back and into your hair.

You sigh a little against his lips, the last of the emptiness ebbing away.

Slowly, you two pull away from each other, grinning. He presses a soft kiss to your chin before he shifts you to the couch, getting up. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you up, even as you protest weakly.

He leads you to the kitchenette attached to the living area, an open cake box with unlit candles sitting on the counter, and you feel a nervous flutter in your heart. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” There is no bite to your accusation, “you said you weren’t free today!”

He doesn’t answer, merely shrugging in response as he lights up the candles. 

“Happy birthday, Y/n.” He wishes you again, holding the cake up so you could make a wish and blow the candles.

You grin at him, happy that your wish came true even before without wishing it in front of a birthday candle.

You close your eyes, making another wish and blow out the candle, very much amused at how excited he looks.

You open your mouth to thank him for the cake, when he suddenly swipes his finger on your cheek. You immediately realise what he had done and gasp.

“Heeseung!”

He cackles in response. He’s managed to get you twice within the last half hour, and he’s delighted.

You reach out to grab him but he ducks away as you take some cream yourself, ready to return the favour.

You two chase each other again, smearing cake over the other’s face when you grab him around the waist and rub your face against his cheek, laughing as the frosting gets on your clothes.

You two stop fooling around for a few moments, just laughing and holding each other, his arms around your waist and yours on his shoulders.

“Thank you for today.” You whisper, smiling goofily, very much happy compared to how you had returned home. He always managed to make you smile and now seeing the big grin he gave you warmed your heart. You lean in and kiss him again softly.

With frosting on your face and a smile stretching your cheeks, you realized that sometimes, it’s not the day itself that’s special—it’s the people who make it unforgettable.

Can someone uber me my very own Heeseung, please?

Enhypen Masterlist.

[mullermilkshake]

The rose garden - Chapter 5

I will be uploading the whole thing here, it's just going take a little time, but if you want to read more right now, there's more on my AO3 <3

Summary - You are just an author wanting to put your writing out there and carry on with your life, but when two people end up murdered, things you write about seem to be more real than just pure fiction.

Pairing - Yandere!Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader / Detective!Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader (Sort of one sided)

Word count - 3.8k

Tags (master list for the entire fic, will add TW for significant tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! PLEASE READ THE TAGS!!!,NSFW,SMUT,NO USE OF Y/N,Yandere!Getou Suguru, Graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Porn With Plot,Porn with Feelings,Established Relationship,PleasureDom,Codependency,Murder,Torture,Conspiracy,Cunnilingus,Orgasm Control,Multiple Orgasms,Minor Original Character(s),psychiatry,Medication,Power Imbalance,Vaginal Fingering,Disembowelment,Manipulation,Gaslighting,Rimming, Praise Kink,Grinding,mentions of blowjobs,Dry Humping,thigh riding,Dark,Autopsy,Aftercare,Hunting,Guns,Perceived infidelity,Body Horror,Smoking,Vaginal Sex,Misogyny,Public Stimulation,One sided sexual tension,Invasion of Privacy,Strangulation,Reader-Insert,Serious Satoru Gojo,Orgasm Edging,Obsession,Accidental Voyeurism,Angst,Questions of masculinity, stabbing, shooting

A new player has entered.

Suguru may have gotten too close to the sun.

Tags for the chapter - Mentions of death, murder and bodies, mind games, interrogation

Thank you, 

Thank you, 

Thank you, 

Thank you. Keep up the good work. 

—

Suguru eyed the detective as he stepped over the threshold.

If he recalled correctly, Suguru knew who this man was. And he was not a man to be fucked with.

His face came with some familiarity from his forensic route before he decided to open up his own practice. Suguru saw enough shit profiling the bad guys that he couldn’t bear it, and it was the right choice. If he hadn’t given that up, then he wouldn’t have met you.

Profiling took a toll on people, thinking like criminals and diagnosing heavy mental health conditions of someone linked to horrid crimes. Helping those around him and supporting the management of addiction and everyday struggles were where his heart was.

The man in front of him, Suguru knew him as Satoru Gojo. He was certain of it. The news of an investigator with white hair wasn’t hard to miss, and from what he remembered, from keeping up to date with the law side of things, was that Satoru Gojo was once the youngest investigator on the force.

A force to be reckoned with and once he started, he didn’t stop. Though he was unsure of what he was up to these days. Either way, he watched his footing around this guy.

And a homicide too? The Detective must have been referring to Mr Simmons.

“Can I get you a drink, Detective?”

He shook his head and observed the front hallway of the cabin. “I’m good, thanks. I just want to ask a few questions and I’ll be on my way. I just need to confirm your names?”

Satoru Gojo was already naturally suspicious. That wasn’t good. He read them out and waited for Suguru and yourself to confirm.

You took Suguru’s hand and led him over to the sofa, “Please, take a seat Detective. We’ll help in any way we can.” God, you were always so perfect.

Suguru was shocked he had slept in as long as he did, he would have left you to it napping away, maybe carried you to bed and let you sleep the entire night’s events off whilst he made breakfast.

But instead he woke up to this. Suguru kept his trademark smile and sat down next to you, making sure he rested his hand on your knee, if anything to show that you were protected.

“You were talking about a homicide?”

“It’s purely house calls at the moment until we have all of the evidence available to us. I’m going through my list. You just happened to be the closest.”

“Closest?” You were naturally inquisitive.

He shrugged at you. “I went to your house, but no one was there and I found this second address listed so I thought I’d shoot my shot, but it turns out you’re the furthest away now.”

“What’s going on, Detective?” Suguru waited to see what he was going to say about Mr Simmons, he was one of the last to see him alive, it was natural to come to see him.

Detective Gojo cleared his throat and leant his elbows on his spread knees to show that he was relaxed. “Well, the person in question found this morning nearby was a woman who attended the ‘Dark author’s award ceremony’ the night before last.” He said a name and Suguru was sure he recognised it.

Ella.

You certainly did, lifting your hand to your mouth in shock. “Oh my god… We saw her before we left, she was throwing an after party.”

“And did you go?”

Suguru jumped in before you could add a motive to the Detective's repertoire. “We were invited, but we came straight home. My fiancé won an award that night, so we came back to celebrate.”

“And can anyone else provide that alibi?”

“The garage camera, it’ll show when we arrived home.” You were hot on it. Suguru still saw the welling wetness collecting in your eyes. “What happened to her, detective?”

“I can't divulge that information just yet until it’s made public, but it’s best not to think about it. All I need to know is when you last saw her, what was discussed and an alibi. Once that’s corroborated, I can cross you off my list.” He spoke directly to you, not once did he look at Suguru.

He should have felt threatened by another man in your presence, but that wasn’t that case. Suguru could not put his finger on it just yet. What was this sniffer dog's aim?

“Well.” You spoke before Suguru could even get a word in. “We saw her at the event, she was inviting others to her house for an after party and invited Suguru. He declined and we left. We came straight home and remained there until the morning when he left for work.”

He was invited. He hoped the Detective didn’t pick up on your phrasing. “You say your fiancé was invited. Was it just him? I thought you were both invited?”

It was Suguru’s job to clear up the misunderstanding. “The invite was extended to me, but as we’re together, it was pretty much given that we were both invited, yes.”

“Right.” Detective Gojo wasn’t so convinced.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask.” 

What were you going to say now? “Was it quick at least?”

“What do you mean by that?”

No… That’s the worst thing to say. 

“I mean, she didn’t suffer at least, did she? The thought of someone I know dying is…” The wetness in your eyes fell with subtlety. “You hear it on the news and read it in the papers and never think you’ll be affected by it, and then it happens.”

You sat forward and even took your hand from Suguru’s. “Please, give it to me straight. Did she suffer?”

“She did.”

“Oh my god.” You leant into Suguru to seek comfort. “You see someone and never think it’ll be the last time.”

“Let me get you some water, sweetie.” Was Suguru being way too blasé about this? He hardly knew the woman, she hadn’t said more than two words to him before that invitation.

You drank the water down fast, Suguru didn’t leave much time for you to be on your own with the Detective and came back faster than he should have. But it made no difference. The man still began grilling you with questions and it got you a little flustered.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” You placed the glass down, how much had Suguru missed? “Am I being interrogated- are you going to detain me?”

“What’s going on?” Suguru didn’t like the look of this.

The Detective shook his head reassuringly. “I'm not interrogating anyone, I’m not slinging anyone in the back of my car either. I’m just trying to get a grasp on what sort of woman she was, the type of relationships she had. So far, you are the only two people I’ve been able to see in person, most of the others have been over the phone.”

This was an interrogation. The Detective was looking for motives. Poor relationships, scorned arguments which resulted in each party not relenting to being on speaking terms. 

Satoru Gojo was very much interrogating you.

Suguru was not going to have it. “Detective, how about we step into my office? This information is quite a shock and we’re here on vacation. I think it’s doing the opposite of what a vacation is intended for,” He gestured to you. “She’s stressed out and I think it’s better if we discuss it more privately until you need her again. Does that sound good to you?”

At first, Suguru assumed he’d decline, but he didn't, he just nodded and got to his feet. “I apologise for the upset, I’d very much like to speak with you privately, Doctor.”

He nodded and got up as well, taking your hand briefly with a smile. “It’ll be alright, sweetie. I won’t be long. Why don’t you go out to the garden for a little while? The fresh air will do you good.” A quick peck to your forehead and he was showing the Detective to his office.

As soon as the doors were slid shut, Suguru spoke to him man to man. “Satoru Gojo. I remember who you are now.”

‘You know who I am?” He studied the art mounted on the walls.

“May I call you Satoru? I remember you from my days with the police, albeit brief, I don’t forget a face. You’re pretty famous if I recall?” He also noticed the distinct pungent smell of cigarettes too, one of which he had very recently smoked. Possibly on the way over here and one he would not forget.

Satoru shrugged. “Either name will do, but I’m not here to discuss names and pleasantries. There was another homicide nearby that happened last night, which I would have discussed in front of your partner, but here is just as convenient.” 

“Alright then.” This must have been about Mr Simmons.

“A man was killed in a hit and run at around ten o’clock last night. Then his body was moved and placed somewhere close by.”

Suguru knew all of this already and by Satoru’s tone, it was as though he was trying to bait him. “Okay, do you need an alibi for that, or?”

“You’re a therapist, aren’t you?”

“A licensed psychiatrist.”

“There’s a difference?” Yeah. He was definitely trying to bait him.

Suguru sat himself down in his little office chair and watched the Detective closely. “Well, I dabbled in crime psychology for a little while, creating criminal profiles and aiding the police, but I prefer treating calmer and less violent people. I prescribe medication and make referrals. I don’t just do talk therapy.”

“That’s right. You have your own practice don't you?...” Something caught his attention.

“I do.”

The window behind Suguru’s chair. He must have seen you sit down outside. But it wasn’t what his eyes were focused on. “That’s a pretty rose garden.”

Suguru’s cheeks tugged for just a moment. “I planted those a few years back for her, roses are her favourite so we have tons blooming every year.”

Satoru’s cheeks did the exact same thing. “It’s funny… this hit and run had red roses on the body.”

“Really?” Suguru pretended to think, lacing his fingers together. “Were the roses placed there meticulously or haphazardly?”

“Does that matter?” Satoru was challenging him.

He’d take it.

“Of course. Haphazardly suggests the person wanted to hide the body, make it pretty while also trying to alleviate the guilt of what they did. But placing them with purpose suggests something more than that. It suggests that the person knew what they were doing and in doing so gave them power. To make a statement.”

A good diversion to throw the Detective off.

“They were placed haphazardly.” A total lie.

“So you’re looking at someone rushing then, most probably their first time killing. Though it doesn’t explain the roses. That would indicate that it still could have been premeditated. Where was the body exactly? You said it was nearby… near to here?”

“Near the first homicide. Which, coincidentally, is near your office if I'm not mistaken.”

Suguru didn’t give anything away. “I’m not aware, you never gave a specific location.”

“The lanes. In a residence and in the woodlands around the lane roads.”

“Ah yes, then that is near my office. There’s not much around there in terms of variety if I’m not mistaken… I can’t believe it’s so close.”

Time to lay it on thick. Though Suguru was still one hundred percent sincere. “If you could, would you mind not mentioning where the bodies were found to my finacé? She would freak if all that trouble was on our doorstep. I doubt she’d ever want me going down the lanes again.”

He didn’t agree. “How often do you go down those roads?”

“Twice a day when I’m working.”

“Were you working yesterday?”

“I was.”

“When did you leave, what way did you go?”

It was around nine when Suguru left the office, give or take ten minutes but autopsies were never approximated down to the minute, hence the hour given later than Mr Simmons’ actual time of death. So give or take half an hour wouldn’t make a difference.

It was close enough to the time of death not to be suspicious should Nanami be questioned, but far enough away that he wouldn’t have been an immediate suspect should he become a person of interest.

“Around nine thirty, I take the east way home, the roads are wider and with the fog that night, it was a safe choice, though I never drive more than thirty kilometres down those roads.”

“The fog?” Well, that seemed to throw him through a loop.

“Yes, there was unexpected heavy fog that came in last night. My fiancé messaged me to take care while driving. Visibility was bad and I ended up hitting a raccoon or rabbit that darted out in front of me when I was coming out of the lanes.”

He had no choice but to state that he had hit something, but Mr Simmons was at least two miles closer to his office than where he stated. Suguru needed some sort of alibi to link with the convenience store clerk should he get wind and speak with him.

“You hit something? Why didn’t you say that earlier?” Satoru stopped his observation of the room and gave Suguru the time of day this time.

“Because after you told me there was another body found near my place of work, to which I confirmed I was working,  I naturally assumed you would ask the question of my whereabouts. And you did.”

It was more of a power trip to Suguru now. He knew he shouldn’t have poked the bear, but it was far too tempting. The Detective was looking in the eyes of a murderer and was none the wiser. Plenty had reviewed evidence before, but none ever close enough to link Suguru.

Mr Simmons was number…. Seven? If he remembered correctly. He hadn’t played that game for a while. Just Mr Simmons, not the woman. Suguru was unsure of what happened to that woman, because that was nothing to do with him at all.

“I tried getting as much gunk out of the grill of my car, she’s a vintage one and I had to take the grill off, then I waited to see if the fog cleared and thankfully it did. So I went to the nearest convenient store a little while after and got my car cleaned- he has the facilities for it. We were driving up here late last night-early morning, and preferred it if my fiancé didn’t have to see animal guts all over the car.”

“And can the clerk corroborate this?”

“Of course. I’ve used his services on a few occasions.”

“Right…” Again, the Detective did not look convinced.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with? Like I said before, I did practise in psychological profiling.”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, but I do wanna circle back to the roses.” Satoru moved towards the desk and poked his head in the direction of the window as he came closer.

He was watching you. Suguru just knew it. “There were roses left at the other scene too.”

Suguru knew nothing about that. “Alright. What does that have to do with the rose garden?”

Satoru Gojo did not take his eyes away from you swinging yourself on the little chair swing, one knee brought up to your chest with the other lazily kicking the floor. You were watching the roses shuffle side by side in the afternoon wind and late autumn sun.

“There’s a lot of roses goin’ around. Somewhere to supply that many would be an interesting find to a local florist.”

Where was he going with this?

“Okay.” Suguru wanted to turn away from him, but he wouldn’t all the while he was watching you.

“I think the roses came from here.”

What? A stupidly absurd notion. The very idea that he suggested someone rifling through the garden and taking roses from your favourite place made Suguru’s very soul burn like ash.

He didn’t give that away though, he’d contain his temper until he was able to release it properly. “Well, we only come here a few times a year, I check more often so that I can be sure the roses haven’t contracted a pest or disease, but that doesn’t stop anyone else getting to them, they aren't exactly secure.”

Who was this man to be throwing accusations like that? He was supposed to be an extraordinary Detective. Now he was just throwing mud hoping that it stuck.

“It doesn’t narrow our search down, but a rose clipped here and there soon makes one large bouquet or two, don't y’think?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean? Are you saying whoever used the roses on those bodies took them out of my fiancés garden? This place isn’t exactly close by.”

He shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips while he turned away from the window. “Who knows, I’m just throwin’ some theories out there. I won’t know all the facts until I have all the evidence presented to me, but I would like to request two things from you if I may.”

Here we go. Not without a fucking warrant. Suguru knew what he was going to ask. “Of course, ask away.”

“Can I examine your car and get security footage from your office?”

Of course. This man was so predictable. “Unfortunately, I cannot agree to that.”

“And why not?” Satoru’s stance was combative.

“You will need a search warrant for both. I must protect the personal information and the whereabouts of my clients. It’’s doctor-patient confidentiallity, I’ll need the written permission of every client that came by yesterday before I can even think of releasing that information to you without a warrant.”

Suguru already had written consent from all of his clients to allow the office to be filmed, but he would not give it to him.

Satoru seemed to take that on the nose. Suguru would protect his clients and their wishes until he legally prevented to do so. He had plenty of protection and he believed that there was not enough reason to collect the practice's camera footage of the road and parking lot just yet. 

“Okay. I’ll go and get that then. I’ll be back soon enough to get that car impounded. I just need to start ticking people off my list is all. I don’t wanna cause you more hassle than it's all worth y’know? I wouldn’t want to upset your fiancé.” He went back to the same kind routine that he was using with you, like that charade would put Suguru’s guard down.

Satoru would know better in time than to use you as a bargaining chip. “That’s fine by me, we aren’t going anywhere all week. It’ll give her time to keep calm while she’s writing her new book, she has plenty to keep her mind occupied while you do what you have to do.”

“Well alright then. I’ll see myself out and I’ll be back with that warrant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Geto. Please send your girl my regards. See ya.” He vacated the office and left the doors wide open on purpose.

Suguru could barely contain himself but held on until he heard a car drive off of the driveway. “That asshole.”

How dare he use you as a way to try and coerce him to give up his car and office like that. It made him fucking sick. Sick enough to shoot up from his seat, stomp over to the decorative vase he didn’t even enjoy looking at, pick it up and launch it across the room to watch it shatter into little pieces.

That fucking bastard thinks he’s so clever. He lied about the crime scene and tried to catch me out.  

Not likely. Suguru wouldn’t fall for it no matter how angry he was. There was never a time in his life where he would allow anyone to take him away from you.

You just wouldn’t cope without him.

“Oh my god, what happened?” Through the red, Suguru was barely able to recover himself.

“Don’t come in here, sweetie. I was going to rearrange a few things and the vase slipped from my hands and fell. There’s smashed ceramic everywhere, could you get the broom for me? I don’t want you cutting your feet.”

You moved without hesitation, trusting him blindly. 

It was better that way.

“Are you alright? I heard the noise and noticed that the Detective wasn’t here… did he leave already?” You reappeared just as quickly as you vanished.

“I’m just fine, don’t worry about me.” The ceramic clinked together as he swept, and for just a moment, Suguru tried his best to look at you, but he couldn’t. “Yes he’s gone for now, but he’ll be back with a warrant for the car and my office's security footage.”

He did not want to see your concerned face, something that was his own doing for jumping the gun and getting rid of a man who may not have hurt you. Suguru was conflicted by his reasoning and admitted to himself he may have made the wrong call. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Your car?… Alright.” You said, rubbing your arm and backing up a little from the large sliding double doors.

No, it wasn’t the wrong call. You were still safe and that was all that mattered. “I’ll take care of it all, it’s just to help with his investigation, but I can’t release it on my own. He’ll need a warrant anyway, it’s just procedure, that’s all.”

Suguru placed the broom to the side and wandered over to you for a reassuring embrace. “It’s all sorted, you don’t need to worry your head over it.”

“I just can’t believe she’s dead… Murdered. She wasn’t the nicest person, but I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.” You nuzzled into his chest close enough.

“I know, there’s not much we can do either. For now, we’ll just need to let the police do their jobs and wait for justice that’ll come with them.” He was curious to know what that body looked like and whether there was an active killer in the area, or just a one time thing.

The most infuriating part of all this, is that if Satoru Gojo posed a significant threat, Suguru couldn’t just kill him. He had a temper, but he was not stupid.

His only options were to either lead the intelligent Detective astray, or make it impossible to have any evidence to catch him with. 

To play the white haired Detective at his own game.

And Suguru would win.

Prev <- -> Next

DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

The side characters and advanced plot is my own work. A gift for @vampir-queen and original idea for this fic is their own.

Also Please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[writing-whenever-whatever]

We’ll be ok sweetheart- this can’t be real 

Eddie Munson x reader 

Part 1 

Summary: after Eddie brings back chrissy to the trailer the event end up traumatising you for life escaping the blame for her death you both run only to sucked into a bigger problem 

Warning : mdni, death , graphic imagery, use of y/n, pet names (sweet heart, darling), Eddie is referred to as sir, vomiting, comfort, drugs, violence, no smut in this part, not proof read

———————————————————————

It’s late in the evening when Eddie is busy with his final hell fire campaign and I’m sat at in the trailer, dressed comfortably in my pjs a blue raspberry lollipop pressed between my lips, waiting from him to come home. We’ve been dating for a few months now it’s been a hit since the start, it’s gotten to the point I’m already practically living with him and his uncle Wayne  as it’s known my home life isn’t the best. 

Im settled on the couch watching some late night horror film a blanket wrapped around me as I hear his van pull up blaring music, I get up a smile landing on my face as I open the door shocked to see Eddie getting out the car with him no other than my old best friend blond bimbo cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham ,our friendship fell apart the moment she started to date Jason, my face turns to a grimace as he walks to me “ sorry I’m late sweetheart “ he looks at me running his hand over my cheek “ had a client to pick up on the way back” he tilts his head towards chrissy. I nod still in slight shock as I move to let them in. Her voice bakes me out of this daze “ thank you ” she mutters perching on the edge of the couch watching me as I stare at her. the screams from the small tv speakers blaring as Eddie russels through the trailer in search for something “ can you turn it down “ she fidgets nervously her eyes never really meeting mine as I turn the tv off “ that better for you” i scoff rolling my eyes as she nods. 

“ what are you even here for aren’t you a bit to Prissy and perfect for this shit” I raise my eyebrow looking down at her taking in the fact she’s still dressed in her cheerleading uniform “ I-i” she stutters looking up at me “ we do not judge darling, remember that” Eddie yells from the other room “ yes sir” I sigh looking back at Chrissy a smug look on my face “  I’m sorry I didn’t want to intrude but Eddie said I could come get some stuff by the end of the day” she sniffles feeling intimidated “ of course he did” I look over my shoulder to see Eddie emptying out the contents of a cookie jar “ what are you even looking for Eds” I sigh looking back at him as he stands up straight  looking at me “ anything, I can’t find anything in this place” he groans impatient throwing the jar back down on the side making me giggle.

 I turn to chrissy giggling “ don’t be nervous, Eddie is a great supplier when he can find his shit ” he walks up behind me a grunt escaping him as he rests his head on my shoulder “ you haven’t taken  it all have you” his voice is low vibrating against my neck “ no sir “ I look back at him “ I haven’t smoked or snorted anything today” i kiss his cheek before I move away from him making him nearly fall forward his hair landing in front of his face as I move into his bedroom looking around for him “ just make yourself comfortable “ he notes to Chrissy as he notices her fidgety nature. 

I continue to look around eddie and Chrissy nattering in the back ground as I finally find a small bag of the stronger stuff “ found it” I call out to him holding it in my hand shaking it slightly a smirk on my face “ this the stuff for you princess “ I look down at Chrissy, my smirk drops noticing her eyes flickering like she’s having some sort of fit “ what’s wrong with her” I ask moving in front of her tap her cheek trying to snap her out of it as Eddie stares in horror “ I don’t know one second she was fine talking but then she went quiet” he looks at me as I check her pulse “ fuck” I mutter trying to lay her down into the recovery position 

“ Chrissy wake up “ Eddie says his voice becoming panicked as the lights start to flicker in the trailer I look around “ what the fuck “ I gasp as she starts to float upwards I fall back onto the floor hitting my head on the coffee table behind me making my brain fog over, as she flys up hitting the ceiling causing both me and Eddie to scream my hands shaking as I reach out for him as he falls backwards watching her bones snap and contort till she’s completely disfigured then she falls back to the floor her eyes bleeding, body completely lifeless causing me to let out a broken sob

“ I’m gonna be sick” I stutter rushing to the bathroom to puke tears streaming down my face when I pull myself together slightly I pick up the phone calling 911 “ hello 911 what’s your emergency “ the operator asks from the other side of the phone “ h-hello we need help at Forest Hill’s trailer park our friend had some sort of fit I think she’s dead” I gag against the words making vomit rise to my throat “ can you explain what happened “ they ask my hands shaking as fresh tears “ she started s-shaking her eye-eyes flickering then her bo-bones all broke and she’s bleeding from the eyes “ I sob more “ please just send help” eddies hand clutches my shoulder his face as pale as a ghost eyes filled with horror “ an ambulance is on the way you just need to stay calm “ they explain “ is anyone with you “ I look at Eddie “ my boyfriend Eddie Munson we tried to help her, but we don’t know what the hell happened one sec she was fine the next she’s dead“ I pass the phone to Eddie running back to the bathroom to throw up again. 

Hours pass and an ambulance arrives the paramedics are shocked by the situation staring at Chrissy’s body on the floor as I clutch onto Eddie to keep my balance we explained what happened to Chrissy ,leaving out the fact she levitated to make it sound less like a bunch of doped up junkies gone wrong, my hands shake as I talk to the paramedics seeing them bring out the body in a body bag my face turning paler than before “ can we stop talking about this now it’s messing her up” Eddie says looking at the paramedics “ of course but we may inform you that police may be in contact “ I shake my head tears dripping down my face as I rest my head into Eddies chest his arms wrap around me holding me his hair tickling my face as cry into him. 

As the ambulance drives away I sob into Eddie as he holds me close we get into the van not wanting to go back into the trailer after what just happened “ they’re gonna find away to blame us” Eddie mutters to me under his breath thinking to himself in the rear view mirror his face twisting with emotion as he tries to burry it deep inside of him.  I rest my hand on his gently “ where are we gonna go” I look at him my eyes red from crying “ into hiding, where no one will find us” I nod sniffling as he places his hand on my cheek “ hey, we’ll be ok sweetheart. go in grab some stuff then we’ll go” I instantly get up rushing back into the trailer getting some clothes drugs and food anything we deem essential but the least amount of stuff to make it the least noticeable. As I go back into the living room I stare at chrissy’s blood on the carpet my hands shaking as the events happen again and again I’m quickly brought out of it by Eddie grabbing my shoulder making me jump “ you ready to go” he asks quickly he sound slightly out of breath as I nod. 

I get into the car as Eddie starts the engine the music jittering to a start as he starts moving as we turn towards the exit I see max mayfield one of his neighbours staring at us through the window I give her a brief timid wave as we leave the trailer park not knowing when or if we’ll ever come back. 

———————————————————————

We’ve been driving for hours the sun is rising as we pull up in a sheltered woodland area the car barely visible to the road side “ where are we” I look at him my eyes hooded with exhaustion “ we’re gonna have to walk a little while “ he rests his hand on my thigh “ can you do that for me sweetheart “ his eyes full of nerves as I nod opening the car door picking up our bags of stuff, I step out my legs wobbling slightly as we begin to walk. Eddie keeps me close to him as we walk towards a boat house in silence listening to any signs of trouble “ this is ricks house you remember him don’t you sweetheart “ I nod looking up at him “ this is where we’ll stay for now” he fumbles in his pockets looking for something when he pulls out a key “ found it” he smiles slightly bring me a sense of relief as he focuses on opening the door. 

As the door opens the smell of old weed and musk wafts over us as we walk in “ home sweet home” he sighs as I instantly rush round the house closing all the curtains “ Eds are you sure it’s a good idea us staying here” I put our stuff down slumping down on the couch “ this is the safest place for now “ he rests his hand on my cheek “ no matter what we stick together “ he pulls me into his lap cuddling me close “ I don’t know what the hell we saw back their but all I know is that’s it’s not good news” I nod as he runs his hand through my long hair “ Chrissy didn’t deserve that” I mumble burying myself into his lap “ i know “ he strokes my head more “ you should rest” he looks at me taking the bag grabbing a bottle of sleeping pills taking one out putting it into my mouth “ swallow “ I nod following his order doing as I’m told snuggling more into his lap letting the drowsiness take over I lay in his arms his gentle hand running up and down my back till I’m asleep.

———————————————————————

When I wake up Eddie is sat with the radio on listening to the broadcast announcing Chrissy’s death under strange circumstances and that further investigation is to happen, sit up rubbing my eyes feeling groggy as Eddie looks at me “ good you’re awake” he sighs a slight relieved look coming over me “ what’s going on” my voice is deep with sleep as Eddie moves next to me “ they’re looking more into her death, they’re looking for us” I sigh looking at him “ but we didn’t do anything “ I tear up slightly taking a deep breath “ i know “ he looks at me “ you need to calm down “ I make eye contact with him standing up abruptly “ calm down, calm down!? How the hell can I calm down I saw a girl levitate and die last night Eddie” I snap pacing the room “ so did I y/n you’re not the only one who saw it” he stands up grabbing my hand pulling me to a halt as we hear muffled voices from outside startling up we quickly move to the boat house. 

Eddie pulls me with him holding up the tarp across the boat, “ get in” he whispers his voice hushed as I climb in my breath shaking he quickly climbs in behind me cuddling me, holding me as close to him as possible I can feel his breath on my neck causing goose bumps to form as I look back at him holding his hand gently in mine as the voices get closer “ stay close, still and quiet “ he whispers in my ear his voice barely audible as the door to the boat house opens I close my eyes shut holding my breath as foot steps get closer. 

The voices get louder “ hello is any one home” they get closer “ what a dump” mote noises happen there are so many people both female and male as they shuffle around the boat house I can’t help but notice eddies hand move to my back pocket where I keep my switch blade suddenly the tarp starts getting jabbed at by something hitting all around us causing me to panic more. 

“ what are you doing “ one of them ask his voice rushed “ they might be in here” the other response still jabbing at did tarp they start arguing back and forth interrupted by the female “ hey look over here” she says her voice oddly familiar also “ some one was here” they say sounding certain looking through the trash scattered along the side “ maybe they ran” another suggests “ don’t worry Steve will get them with his ore” the male jokes suddenly eddie glances at me counting to three on his fingers then gestures to get up I nod watching as he counts down finally hitting one as we both jump up Eddie attacking the man with the ore holding my blade to his throat as I stand there holding a lit lighter and a bottle spray paint that was left in the bottom of the boat pointing it at the first person I see. 

Both of us appearing on edge and aggressive our actions shaky and unplanned as the voice of Dustin Henderson breaks through to Eddie “ Eddie stop it’s me Dustin” he shouts voice shocked “ Eddie it’s me this is Steve he’s not gonna hurt you” he insists stepping slowly towards Eddie as I point the lighter towards him “ y/n” max steps towards me her voice calming as I look at her my eyes frantic as my hands shake “ everything is gonna be ok just drop the lighter “ she steps towards me taking to out of my hand. 

I fall to the floor in tears Eddie instantly puts the knife down rushing to my side holding me into his arms “ what are you doing here” he asks his voice shaky “ to help you” Dustin answers looking directly at us “ you know us, that’s robin from band and my friend Max she’s always refusing to play d n d “ he adds “ who’s that” Dustin gestures towards me “ y/n” Eddie stutters keeping a tight hold on me as my body trembles “ my girlfriend “ Dustin nods coming down to my level “ we’re on your side, there’s no need to worry” 

I stand back up not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes as“ you bastards really shook me up not that fucking needed to be any more shook up” I start ranting talking really fast starting to pace “ y/n sweetheart “ Eddie looks at me I pause looking at him with watery eyes “ breathe” I take a deep breath hesitating for a second “ fuck i need a smoke” I search my pockets for the stash I usually keep on me but finding my search unsuccessful 

“ fuck” I grumble looking towards Eddie to ask him but as he’s busy talking to Dustin I  don’t wanting to interrupt them, I go into my inside pocket finding my lollipop from the other day wrapped up and placed in there I resort to sucking on that trying to sooth my nerves, watching as everyone turns to look at me “ what” I look confused turning to them then back to Eddie “ they want to hear what happened “ his voice sounds gruff as I move back to him sitting down against the wall “ you won’t believe us” my voice quivers slightly as I look at them pulling the lolly from my lips and passing it to Eddie who gladly takes it into his mouth “ try us” max response causing me to feel slightly confused. 

“ one minute she was fine, the next she wasn’t, I was helping Eddie look for some special k cause he couldn’t find it, when I came back in the room she was having some sort of fit. her e-eyes were flickering, body twitching. i-I tried to help her by putting her in the recovery position. B-but that’s when she started levitating her b-bones brea-breaking and sn-snapping “ I gulp for a second trying to compose myself as bile rises up my throat “ that’s when she hit the ceiling her eyes looked like they were being sucked out her head or something blood dripping everywhere ” Eddie adds resting his hand on my thigh grounding both of us as tears fall down my cheeks “ she didn’t deserve it, what ever the fuck it was yeah she was a bitch for dating that prick and ditching me as a friend but no one deserves that” I look down zoning out slightly not anything but  Eddie hushing me as I close my eyes the images repeating over and over in my head “ we really tried to wake her man” Eddie looks at Dustin “ it’s like she could move it’s like she was in a trance or something “ I nod agreeing with him taking my lolly back from him and sucking on it again “ under a spell “ Dustin looks a realisation coming to both him and Eddie “ a curse” 

“ vecna’s curse” Dustin says eying up Eddie with a shocked expression on his face 

I get back up walking back towards the house “ where are you going “ Steve asks me looking over his shoulder his voice stern but understanding as I push past him. “ this can’t be real” I mumble looking at them my face paler than usual “ how am I expected to believe in all these monsters and curses, like what the actual fuck is going on” i look at Eddie as he sighs “ be open minded, think of what we saw last night” he insists looking at me as I shake my head “ no I don’t want to, I can’t Eds” he walks towards me and rests his hand on my shoulder “ it’s hard to believe I know “ Dustin looks at me with sympathy walking towards me, his expression as if I’m a confused child his voice melting like butter “ but it’s true” he takes his time to explain everything to both me and Eddie trying to keep things simple dumbing everything down. 

After hearing everything I’m sat on the floor again resting my head on my knees “ so what can we do” my voice sounding like a faint whisper as it comes out  I hear Steve turn away talking to Robin “ poor girl must feel like she’s taken a bad batch of something with all this strange shit going on” she nods giggling slightly my head snapping towards them “ I’m more than just a junky asshole” I snap at them my eyes holding coldness “ i actually want to help people I wanted to help Chrissy” they look down at me as Eddie nods “ I know baby and you will” he rests his hand on my knees gently stroking up and down my leg.

Steve turns to us his “ listen you two need to stay low for now the police are looking for you they think Chrissy’s death was suspicious “ i nod “ ok what should we do “ i look up at him my hair messily moving into my face “ stay here keep in touch with us and if anything happens let us know “ Dustin insists passing a walkie talkie to Eddie before turning to the door “ we’ll get you supplies and what ever you need just stay safe both of you” i look at him watching as he walks out, leaving me and Eddie alone together for the rest of the night. 

[mezzo-morte]

There's actually no difference between a child taking their stuffed toy to school and me taking at my phone with pictures of my comfort characters in my day to day life

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and an overall pleasant time of year, from your local Bi-Conic final girl in the great white north.

[binders-and-beanies]

Doin bad again folx

[errantgoat]

Me playing BG3: eh I'm not sure if I'll romance anyone, I'm not that into it

*Gale talks*

Me: ok so we're doing this after all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[chiefguideandcentre]

I just want y’all to know that I just killed a huge spider that came swinging down from the ceiling in my office and it was huge and scary looking and I did it all by myself. Not all heroes wear capes

[shoveitevil]

ok lock in time

[transslyblue]

it is dangerous to promote unverified fundraisers! marryum-aljabill/Murryum Al Jabill/Marryum Al Jabill is a scammer. they previously linked to a known scam paypal account, and then edited their paypal link out of their post once people caught on

what's more, the only pictures posted on their gogetfunding link are taken from these three articles

https://www.timesofisrael.com/uk-charities-urge-government-to-welcome-gazans-with-family-ties-in-britain/ https://www.channelnewsasia.com/world/israel-hamas-war-gaza-talks-truce-ramadan-mossad-netanyahu-4184131 https://dppa.un.org/en/un-chief-calls-israel-to-spare-civilians-more-suffering-gaza

https://www.tumblr.com/justforyouu/753745959576535040/this-is-a-scam-this-user-has-not-been-vetted-by?source=share

would you mind deleting their scam from your blog, or clearly labeling it as a scam so it doesn't spread to others?

please familiarize yourself with the posts of some current scammers while they are still under these usernames: fancystudentyouth, smwitais, glitteryfesthaks, tacofriends, millicah, mallycahs-blog, holiyfarrtfatuma, nuttydestinieallli, dutfullydeepdreamlland, beatriceegiveer, nako700, marryum-aljabill, kawaiipeachpainter, burningvoidbird, chieffurygiver

i really recommend looking at their pinned posts in order to better recognize scams, not just using this list as a blocklist, because once they are terminated they each will immediately remake their scams under a new username

I literally didn't know.

I don't have the energy, time, or knowledge to verify every single gofundme and donation link. So I am no longer going to reblog any of them unless it's a master post of them.

If I get any asks about sharing donation links, I'm sorry. I'm not going to and will delete the asks because I literally can not verify it. Again, at this point I'm only going to reblog long master posts of verified donation links.