#they leave a trail of broken hearts behind them wherever they go…

[valentoru]

|| Limitless ||

[CHAPTER 13]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PREVIOUS : MASTERLIST : NEXT

After the talk, you considered staying to talk to Geto but decided the ass-kissing could wait. So you said goodbye to Satoru and waited for Maki to wake up from her nap while contemplating drawing a dick on her face, then slowly heading with her to the recording booth.

When she finally woke up, you guys decided to go to get some food. You headed down into the lobby.

“So have a seminar to talk about Women in our industry, you know, since it’s overpowered with…penis. I’m also doing a few pop up events! And I wasn’t even the one who reached out first, it was the events that reached out to me.”

“Maki, this is amazing. You are amazing.”

“I know.” Maki winked, sliding her arm through yours. “What’s going on there?”

You squinted against the sun. The parking lot of the building was jammed with traffic. People blowing their horns and getting out of their cars, trying to figure out the source of the holdup. You and Maki walked around a line of vehicles stuck in the lot, until you ran into a group of people.

“Someone’s battery died, and it’s blocking the exit line.” Someone, you weren’t sure who, said, some rolling their eyes, some bounding impatiently on their feet. One pointed at a red truck stuck sideways in the most inconvenient turn.

You recognised it as Nathan’s, the other receptionist.

“I pitch tomorrow—i need to go home to prepare. And why the fuck is Nathan just stood there leisurely talking with Gojo? Do they want us to bring them tea and cucumber sandwiches?”

You looked around, searching for Satoru’s tall frame and blinding hair.

“Oh yeah. There’s Gojo,” Maki said. You looked back where she was pointing, just in time to see Nathan get back behind the wheel and Satoru jogging around the truck.

“What is he—” was all you managed to say, before he came to a stop, put his hands on the back of the truck, in neutral, and started…

Pushing.

His shoulders strained his shirt. The firm muscles of his upper back visibly shifted and tended under the black fabric as he bent forward and rolled several tons of truck across…quite a bit of distance into the closest empty parking space.

Oh.

There was some applause and whistling from bystanders when the truck was out of the way, and a coup of people clapped him and some shouted as the line of cars started moving out of the lot.

“Fucking finally,” you heard one of them say from behind you, and you stood there, blinking, a little shocked. Had you imagined it? Had Satoru really just pushed a giant truck all by himself? Was he an alien from planet Krypton who moonlighted as a superhero?

“N/N go give him a kiss.”

You whirled around, abruptly reminded of Maki’s existence. “What? No. No. I’m good. I just said goodbye to him a minute ago and—”

“N/N why don’t you want to kiss your boyfriend?”

Ugh. “I…it’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”

“Dude, he just moved a truck. By himself. On uphill ground. He deserves a damn kiss.” Maki shoved you and made a shooing motion.

You clenched your teeth and headed in Satoru’s direction. Wishing you’d gone ahead and drawn twenty dicks all over Maki’s face. Maybe she did suspect that you were faking your relationship with Satoru. Or maybe she just got a kick out of pressuring you into PDA’ing, that ingrate. Either way, if this was why one got for masterminding and intricate fake-dating scheme that was supposed to benefit a friends love life, then maybe—

You halted abruptly.

Satoru’s head was bent forward, white hair covering his forehead as he wiped the sweat from his eyes with the hem of his shirt. It left a broad strip of flesh visible on his torso, and—it was nothing indecent, really, nothing unusual, just some fit guys midriff, but for some reason you could help staring at Satoru Gojo’s uncovered skin like it was a slab of Italian marble and—

“Y/N?” He said, and you immediately averted your eyes. Crap, he’d totally caught your staring. First you’d forced him to kiss you, now your were ogling him like some perv in the parking lot and—

“Did you need anything?”

“No I…” you felt your cheeks go crimson.

His skin, too, was flushed from the effort of pushing, and his eyes were bright and clear, and he seemed…well, at least he didn’t seem unhappy to see you.

“Maki sent me to give you a kiss.”

He froze half way through wiping his hands on his shirt. And then his said. “Ah.” In his usual natural, unreadable tone.

“Because you moved the truck. I—I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know. But I didn’t want her to get suspicious, and there are workers here too maybe they’ll tell the chair and it will be two birds with one stone and I can leave if you—”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Breathe.”

Right. Yes. Good suggestion. You did breath and the action made you realise you hadn’t done that in a while which in turn made you smile up at Satoru—who did his mouth twitch thing back at you. You were really starting to get used to him. To his size, his distinctive way of being in the same space as you.

You squirmed. “So…should we hug or something?”

“Oh.” Satoru looks at his hands and down at himself. “I don’t think you want to do that. I’m pretty gross.”

Before you could stop yourself you studied him from head to toe, taking in his body, his broad shoulders the way his hair was curling around his ears. He didn’t look gross. Not even to you, who was usually not a fan of dudes or dating or any of this.

Not gross.

“Should we just kiss?” You widened your eyes, you’d clearly caught him off guard too, you could tell by the way his expression tightened ever so slightly.

“If you think that…if your friend is watching.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “But we don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Unless you do want to.” Your palms felt damp.and clammy so you surreptitiously wiped them on your pants. “And by “want to” I mean if you think it’s a good idea.” It was so not a good idea. It was a horrible idea. Like all your ideas.

“Right.” He looked past you and toward Maki who was probably in the middle of making an entire Instagram Story on you. Or live tweeting this whole event. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

He stepped a little closer, and really, he was not gross. How someone this sweaty, someone who’s just pushed a truck, still managed to smell good was a topic worth of a Ph.D dissertation for sure. Earths finest scientist should have been hard at work on this.

“Why don’t I…” you inched into him slightly, and after letting your hand hover for a moment you rested it on Satoru’s shoulder. You pushed yourself up in your toes angling your head up toward him. It helped very little, as your were still not tall enough to reach his mouth, so you tried to get more leverage by tipping your hand on his arm, and immediately realised you were basically using him. Which was the exact things he asked you not to do a second ago. Crap.

“Sorry, too close? I didn’t mean to—”

You would have finished the sentence if he hadn’t closed the distance between then and just—kissed you. Just like that.

You had kissed. You had kissed—twice now. Twice. Not that it mattered no one cared. But twice. Plus the lap. Earlier today. Again not that it mattered.

“I’ll see you around right? Next week?”

He lifted his fingers to his lips, then let his arm drop his side. “Yes. On Thursday.”

It was Monday now. Which meant you were going to see each other in 3 days. Which was fine, no matter when or how often you met— “yep see you Thurs—Hey, what about the picnic?”

“The—oh.” He rolled his eyes looking a little more like himself. “Right. That fu—” he stopped short. “That picnic.”

You grinned. “It’s tomorrow.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“You’re still going?”

He gave you a look that clearly stated; it not like I have a choice even thought I’d rather had my nails extracted one by one. With pliers.

You laughed. “Well. I’m going, too.”

“At least there’s that.”

“Are you taking Geto?”

“Probably. He actually likes people.”

“Okay. I can kiss ass a little bit. And you and I can show off how dearly and committed we are to the chair. You’ll look like a wingless bird. No flight risk whatsoever”

“Perfect. I’ll bring a counterfeit marriage license to casually drop at his feet.”

You laughed and waved goodbye then jogged up to Maki.

TAGLIST(33/50): @bbmsxlene @lunavelha @satoryaa @tranzumaki @k-kkiana @luvkvni @lysaray @kalulakunundrum @arysbruv @r4veeen @stillnotherapy @catobsessedlady @colortheoryrocks @minzxec @dazqa @packsvlog @luvvmae @simplysm1le @mintfyi @fushigurosgirl @littlecritteryay @fackeraccount @astro-stars @lavender-hvze @miizuzu @rayrayline @kanaojacksonofc @letsmyy @serenadesvt @art-n-rot @aastrobliss @herdemisee @tikideedee

AN:

As I write this authors note I am listening to “it wasn’t me” by shaggy.

Please can you guys like blow up my inbox or smth this acc is so dead when im not uploading a limitless chapter 🙁

© valentoru all rights reserved- do not publish my work on other platforms, plagiarise or translate.

[blinkvlink]

into the dark

Summary: Helene re-learns what love is, whether she likes it or not.

Warnings: Depiction of violance, mentions of blood, abusive relationship.

Words: 1K

AO3

Notes: I could not let go of the idea of the detective getting brainwashed by their aunt and this is the result.

Helena thinks she knows what love is before she meets Adam.

For all her life, it was being kept at arm's length. To be loved but to never be worthy enough to feel it. 

She would know her mother cared about her, and would keep that information close to her chest so that when Rebecca walked away or shut her off in order to not reveal what lies beneath, she wouldn’t snap and do something drastic. A coping mechanism at best.

But knowing that you are loved is not enough, Helena knows that all too well.

Yet she is somewhat relieved when he doesn’t change the definition for her one bit. It’s still the same. It is still to be loved with fear and to be buried to the depths of their hearts so they won’t hear her scream. 

Still, she doesn’t go down without a fight, she tries to claw her way back to the surface. But Adam looks her in the eye, begs her to remain in the darkness, saying that this is what’s best for both of them. What is she supposed to do when he asks that of her? Doesn’t he know she would do anything for him?

She can’t help but feel, however, that obliging to his request was the way it all came undone.

Because they come for her in the night, when she has isolated herself from the rest of the team. Alone in her apartment, earlier than she needs to be because he hurt her, hit her in the same place and re-opened a wound that never really closes in the first place.

When she hears her door being broken down, she is still trying to pick up the pieces Adam left her with in her bedroom.

And she soon finds out that love is being laid upon a cold metal table with your hands pinned down, tied by ropes that are cutting into your skin. She learns that being cared for is to be blinded by the operation light above your head, and to be stabbed with needles until they find the vein. 

She learns that it is seeing a face you could make out anywhere, at any condition.

Love fills her lungs as they press a mask against her nose and lips, and as everything fades to black. She calls her 'Rook'. 'My Rook' she names her. 

And with her love, she is reborn.

When the time comes- she doesn't know when it does, she doesn't need to keep track of it and therefore she doesn't - she takes her first steps, leaving a trail of blood behind her wherever she goes. The knight points, and the rook kills. She practices, day and night, and soon the strings that are tied on her wrists and legs and neck sink into her skin, becoming one with the flesh.

If knew them once, she doesn't know them now. Their faces are those of strangers. Further than that, foes. The horror in their eyes mean nothing to her, no more than the frightened and frantic movements of a spider, running away from the boot that is catching up to it. She stands behind her knight, watches as she speaks to them. Her lips are sealed despite the calls of her name, she doesn’t hear them. Her ears only look out for the sound of her voice.  And they do not know that the name they call with their broken voices is not hers anymore. 

They tear them apart, like a child with an insect in their palm, pulling at the thin limbs of the poor creature. She is the one to eliminate the 3. Her hand finds its way through the chest of the golden eyed one. She barely hears the crack of bones as she breaks the one with the freckles, and the tall one can barely react as she punches through his neck. 

The knight still stands. Not only her knight, but the knight with the emerald eyes and agonized expression.

'He was once your knight too.' a voice tries to say from the inside, somewhere between all the twisted and knotted strings. She kills it too before it can say more.

“You took her from us. You took her from me.” he says, clutching the blood that leaks from his torso. She can see him trying to avoid looking at the mangled corpses of his friends, his family. When he looks at her, she can tell that despite being the executioner to those he loved, he still loves her too. 

It barely manifests into something in her chest.

Knight scoffs.

“I took her from you? You talk as if she was ever yours, du Mortain. Did you tell her you love her, did you show it? You accuse me of being the center of all her misery when you tore her heart open every single day. With me, she is cared for. She is protected. She is loved.”

The vampire’s face twists with agony, and tears shine in his eyes.

“No. What you did to her isn’t love.” he says with despair, his voice barely above a pained groan.

“What would any of you know about love?” Her knight challenges, looking at him with pure disgust. “Dead souls trapped in immortal bodies, pretending to be something you never can be. And Rebecca? No different than you abominations, even worse in most ways. That woman took everything from me. But she did me one good, in the end. She gave me her.”

Her hand gestures at her, as she stands a step behind her. And ever since the encounter started, Rook feels something bloom in her chest. Its vines and roots spread inside her bones, growing thornes over her organs. And she smiles. 

Love, she feels love.

“Enough chatter.” the Knight says. “I would kill you too, but I know that would be mercy. And that is the last thing you deserve.” She tilts her head towards the corpses of the other vampires, once great fighters now nothing more than paintings of gore. “Know that you did this to them. Know that you were the reason for their end, and live with that fact forever. Live with the fact that you became the monster you feared to be.”

As they leave, she hears him scream a bunch of things, a bunch of meaningless words that are worth nothing to her.

‘This isn’t you.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Come back, please.’

‘I love you. I always loved you.’

She hears none. Rook does not keep the concealed love close to her chest to survive anymore. Knight holds her like a gun, and in the violence, she relishes. She drowns. 

[annarellix]

Chief Maggie Riley - Book 1 and 2

About the Books:

The Girl Who Lied

Rain hammers the earth and a vicious wind rattles the trees. Then lightning strikes, the flash illuminating a young girl staggering out of the woods, her brown eyes wide with fright, a silent scream on her lips… There’s a storm approaching the tiny Maine town of Coyote Cove when Chief Maggie Riley comes across the body of a man, blood seeping from stab wounds into the damp forest floor. As she desperately struggles to secure the evidence before the rain hits, Heather, a local teenage girl, emerges from the woods, shivering and unable to talk. Maggie, once a high flying big-city detective, lost everything when her four-year-old brother went missing five years ago. Heart-broken, she’s never stopped searching for him: but now she is plunged back into the world she left behind. The victim, Maggie discovers, knew secrets about everyone in isolated Coyote Cove. It seems there are more local suspects in this case than people she can rule out. And with Heather still traumatised, Maggie struggles to unravel her strange appearance at the crime scene. Until, following a faint, bloody trail deep into the forest, she’s horrified to unearth what the terrified girl’s been hiding… But when Heather is kidnapped, the battle to identify the killer becomes a race to save an innocent girl’s life. And with the whole town terrified, Maggie is shocked to uncover that this twisted killer is much closer to home than she’d ever imagined. Battling her own demons and memories of her missing brother, how far will Maggie have to go to save Heather? Or will another innocent young life be lost forever…?

Their Angel’s Cry:

The little dog trembles and whimpers, but refuses to move. Maggie reaches further into the undergrowth, trying to tempt it out. But as she moves closer, she sees something that stops her heart—a tiny, shivering baby, wrapped in a thin, pink blanket, saved only by its loyal protector. There’s a ferocious storm heading toward the isolated town of Coyote Cove when Chief Maggie Riley gets the call every cop dreads. Three bodies have been found on Rattlesnake Mountain, half a day’s hike from civilization. And when Maggie finally reaches the site, exhausted and freezing, she discovers something even more terrifying—a tiny baby girl, kept alive only by the warmth of a small dog who refuses to leave her side. As Maggie races the baby to safety, she wonders, why on earth the family risked hiking the mountain in this weather? Who were they and who could possibly have killed them? A former detective, Maggie may be an experienced investigator, but she’s still an unwelcome newcomer. Battling town prejudice, her fears for the orphaned baby, and the increasingly dangerous weather, Maggie soon discovers the case is far more complicated than she could have imagined. The family is not who they seemed. The mother has never had a baby, there’s no link between them at all. So whose baby is it, and where are they now? With Coyote Cove cut off by the storm, Maggie knows that wherever the killer is, they won’t be able to leave. Stuck in town with a murderer on the loose, Maggie must race to find them before anyone else gets hurt. But she hasn’t counted on the killer taking matters into their own hands, and going after Maggie first…

My Review: This is a common review for the first two books in this series, a series that promises to become a favorite as it's well done, solid and gripping. Let's say that Coyote Cove would not my first choice for a hike or a trekking due to the high probability of finding or becoming a corpse. The murder rate in those woods is higher than those of Chicago during the Twenties. That said I loved what I read as there's a sense of empathy, sorrow and a layer of sadness that matches with the darker side of these story. Maggie is damaged and flawed: you know something happened, you know there's some dark but you cannot help loving her courage and desire to make things better. The small town atmosphere, the cast of characters are well done. The author doesn't sugarcoat anything and delivers solid mysteries that will keep you hooked and guessing. Another intriguing and exciting crime thriller series featuring a strong female detective. Highly recommended. Many thanks to Bookouture for this ARC, all opinions are mine

The Author: With degrees in Crime Scene Technology & Physical Anthropology, Florida author Shannon Hollinger hasn't just seen the dark side of humanity - she's been elbow deep inside of it! She finds writing to be a much cleaner way to spend her time than the autopsy suite. Most days it smells better, too. Her debut novel, the psychological thriller Best Friends Forever, is the first of a five-book deal with publisher Bookouture. Her short fiction has appeared in Suspense Magazine, Mystery Weekly, and The Saturday Evening Post, among a number of other magazines and anthologies, and her story Lady Killer was a finalist for the 2021 Al Blanchard Award sponsored by the New England Crime Bake.

Social Media Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thiswritersays Twitter: https://twitter.com/thiswritersays Website: www.ShannonHollinger.com Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thiswritersays/ Bookouture Email Sign Up: https://www.bookouture.com/shannon-hollinger/

Buy Link(s): The Girl Who Lied | Book 1: https://geni.us/B0BZZHKKQGsocial

Audible: UK: https://ow.ly/5nEX50PavLm US: https://ow.ly/qgEq50PavL1

Listen here:https://ow.ly/3Rn550PavKq

Their Angel’s Cry | Book 2: https://geni.us/B0BZZJLSHNsocial

Audible: UK: https://ow.ly/FUPB50PavSM US: https://ow.ly/FXSQ50PavSP

Listen here: https://ow.ly/XP6p50PavSN

[saulweissberg]

despite the professional rivalry between saul and theo, or just the weissbergs and nowaks in general, there had been a kinship between the two families that most people couldn’t understand. it was the understanding of the privileged. it was the comfort in knowing that theo knew exactly which fork you were supposed to use during which course or what exactly to wear to a country club luncheon or just how exhausting it could be to have their respective surnames. saul knew not to complain about it to his less fortunate friends, and not to mention his upbringing in front of townsfolk that lived in certain neighborhoods lest it looked like he was bragging—his expensive clothing and car was proof enough of his continued wealth, he didn't need to belabor it.

saul, however, never downplayed it all. he never pretended that he was some starving artist when he was younger, or a scholarship student back in college that just happened to share a last name with the jewish version of the kennedy dynasty in order to earn the approval of his fellow students. there was no point in pretending he wasn’t damn near new england royalty because it was completely obvious. from the way he looked, the way he stood, even from his tone of voice. saul weissberg had grown up rich.

and so had theodora nowak.

it was freeing to be in her company again. it was freeing to be able to do rich people shit like play golf with someone that knew what they were doing. theo wouldn’t make snide comments like roman daniels, or even lovingly tease him like phoebe yates often did about his love of luxury. theo knew exactly what it was like to grow up in a family where success mattered most of all, and everything else came second, even family. theo had been on the other end of it, the neglected daughter of a lawyer that didn’t care about much beyond success and making sure his sons succeeded as well. saul had been the perpetrator in his case, unintentional as it may have been. it was an accident, really, not a conscious choice to forgo his relationship with his son in favor of his career. her father gleefully cast her aside; saul would never forgive himself for just how badly he had failed his child. despite the role reversal, she continued to view him as family, and maybe that was the only reason she did so: theo had known saul for her whole life, and she understood fucked up family dynamics. besides, if she didn’t understand saul, then who in the world would?

saul laughed along with theodora, then gave her a stern look as she proclaimed she couldn’t live on as a loser. “oh, my darling teddy, someone always has to lose.” even saul didn’t get the outcome he wanted in some of his cases! his long career was filled with disappointments, but admittedly, held more successes than failures. still, no one ever really won a divorce settlement: his client may have gotten the money, but they were still divorced. a marriage ended. except for in some situations, that was still something to grieve. “and you can’t possibly ask me to let you win. you’re not seven anymore, you’re a grown girl now and you’ve got to surrender to my expertise.” saul smirked, brows raising haughtily. “besides, you can’t return home. i’ve just only got you here. that’d be rude.” he knew she was just joking, but wanted to heap on some guilt anyway, just so theo would never be tempted to go back if it meant leaving him alone.

you leave enough ghosts behind, you’re gonna start being haunted eventually, don’tcha think?

saul pulled a face. considered him well fucking haunted, then. it was a truth he didn’t like to entertain often: wherever saul went, he left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. whether that be a wife, a child, a friend, or even his twin brother, he never seemed to be able to move through life without hurting someone. he failed micah just by existing, unable to provide for his son in the way that micah needed. he failed his three previous wives by letting them go too easily, thinking it would be better in the long run to free them before he harmed them any further, only to hurt them tenfold afterwards with his absence. he failed levi by leaving him behind in new york, eight hundred miles away from his twin and other half. in a way, he had even failed theodora by not convincing her to join him out west sooner and sparing her the heartache of her father’s continued disfavor. his ghosts were all living, but they were certainly haunting him, reminding him of his failures and just how horrible he truly was. rotten down to the marrow. he failed everyone just by saddling them with his presence.

poor, poor theodora. having to play golf with such an unworthy, unlovable deadbeat.

okay, fuck, saul. lighten up a bit. he sighed, sliding into the driver’s seat. throwing the throttle into drive, he began maneuvering the cart along the course. pretending that driving required too much focus for him to adequately answer her questions, he searched the grass for their golf balls. he had to answer eventually, though, so he sighed once again and gave her a sidelong glance. “i just don’t want the distraction.” and the reminder that he hurt them all in differing ways. it was hard enough when he only had to share blue harbor with thalia and deacon, knowing he could run into them at any establishment or even just out on the street. being haunted by two ghosts was easier, even preferable, to five.

“wow, you make it sound like they’re going to form a coven and perform a satanic ritual to ensure my downfall.” a thought that may have crossed his mind in his more irrational moments, normally in bed right before he fell asleep and his mind wandered randomly, bringing up questions and memories that were best left in the recesses of his brain. saul stopped the cart once he saw theodora’s ball along the edge of the green, then regarded her with a suspicious narrow of his eyes. “the question is whether you’re going to join their coven, when i’ve been so kind as to allow you to work at my practice.” he was only teasing, but again, he did have his more irrational moments sometimes.

he relaxed his face, sliding off the seat after put the cart into park again. saul pointed towards her ball a few feet away from where he stopped the cart. “did you wanna play your ball here or drop it near mine?”

Theo’s swing has, as a matter of fact, gotten much better throughout the years. She’d always been more of a golf spectator than a player — after all, becoming a player would involve having a father who wanted her anywhere near him at a golf course growing up — but becoming friends with one of her favorite professionals has, of course, come with its advantages. She supposes the rumors in the tabloids about the nature of her and Deacon’s relationship is a small price to pay, in the grand scheme of things. Even if Deacon does love stoking the fire when he feels the flames are about to go out.

Not that it’d be a great idea to bring Deacon up with Saul, mind you. She knows the relationship between the two has soured over the years, and she tries to actively avoid the subject of one with the other whenever she can. They’re both incredibly important people in Theo’s life, and whatever mess they’ve made of their dynamic is not her issue to solve. She’s trying to leave the days of being a mediator for the people in her life behind — a symptom of her narcissistic mother’s parenting, she’s recently learned in therapy.

(Trying, being the operative word. She oftentimes still finds herself in the beginning stages of meddling, and has to actively work on pulling herself back from the brink.)

Theo’s laugh is a mix of delighted and amused as Saul celebrates his — admittedly impressive — swing. She offers him a celebratory clap as the ball disappears through the afternoon light somewhere in the green, much farther than Theodora’s ball had ventured. “Nice one,” she offers him, following him toward the golf cart. “Though I do have to warn you — if I lose this game, I will be going to back to New York. Nothing personal,” she quips. “But I can’t go to work every day a loser.”

A statement said in jest, but one which fills Theodora with a dread she’d willingly left behind. She’d held on to hope for years that her father would find her good enough to put her name on the door — something she hardly thought would be a hardship, considering the firm already had three Nowaks in the name, god forbid they add a fourth — but it was only until recently that she realized no matter how many accolades she’d been decorated with, how many cases she’d brought and won for the firm, no matter how hard she’d worked — through heartbreak, through illness, through blood, sweat, and tears — her father would never look past her gender. Her brothers would carry on the family name, after all: she’s not surprised she’d spent most of her life feeling like a spare. Her father’s precious afterthought.

Though he did have some choice words for her when she’d tendered her resignation, informing him she’d taken a job at Saul’s firm in Illinois. He’d called her dramatic and over-emotional, and her choice to be ‘defiant and unreasonable’ a ‘tantrum.’ God forbid she do anything to disgrace the family name — they had a reputation to uphold, didn’t they? She could have told him Saul had always been able to do the one thing he’d never been able to — believe in her. She’d never wanted to be a partner. Not really. She’d always enjoyed being a lawyer for what it was — but when your own family continues to rebuff you every year, to the point where the man who gets the partnership is five years your junior and still dabs unironically, it starts to feel a little personal.

Theodora snorts at Saul’s joking accusation. It’s true that the coincidence of finding not one, but two of Saul’s ex-wives in the same place is a wild one, but one she did not, unfortunately, have the wherewithal to plan. Would have been funny, though, she thinks to herself, if they had. Although Terry and Cassie have their own issue, one that she’s not sure Saul is privy to, so even though her relationship with them individually still thrives, it’d be hard to get them together to do anything like what Saul’s implying in jest. Never mind Micah, who’d barely recognized her at the firm the other day. “Listen, pal,” she starts teasingly. “You leave enough ghosts behind, you’re gonna start being haunted eventually, don’tcha think?”

She slips into the passenger side of the golf cart and grabs onto the handle, raising an eyebrow at Saul. “What’s got you so worried about having them all in one place, anyway?” she asks. “What’s that saying — keep your friends close, enemies closer?” She hums thoughtfully. “Although I doubt any of them are actually your enemy. You might be their enemy, though. Maybe they want to keep you close.”

[bluexiao]

#taking off your ring in the middle of a fight

–pretty self-explanatory// this can also mean a promise ring or engagement ring that they gave to you

CHARACTERS. Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Diluc, Il Dottore, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader

THEMES. angst, arguments, slight crack on one of them (guess who), most has no comfort, some has comfort

NOTES. i haven’t been posting multi-hc’s have i? well, here yall go~

ZHONGLI, at first, failed to notice it until he opened his eyes and turned your way.

It was just an argument, all couples do have one. All normal relationships have such situations, after all. Yet it was beyond him to see the band over the table, where you had just been moments ago, only to leave him to ponder with his thoughts all alone.

He quickly turns and follows you to wherever you might’ve gone, “love?” he calls out with a full voice? “Love?” And a broken one after that when he sees you on the bed, folding clothes on your own.

“Are you… leaving?” He hesitated, clearing his throat and prompting you to look up and meet his eyes.

He braces himself for your answer, brave enough to accept your answer, whatever it may be. He wouldn’t stop you—you have every right to leave, after all.

“What? No, of course not, what made you think-” then your gaze trails down to your fingers upon seeing the ring on his palm, instantly reaching out and taking it from him, “Oh-was that? I was only… I took it off because I had to wash my hands to fold the clothes.” You slowly explained, realizing the intention behind his question as you do so.

“Oh, beloved… I am never leaving you,” you stood up and he was the one who stepped forward and received you in his arms, wrapping you and him sighing out heavily once he felt your body against his.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

XIAO felt the way his knees buckled as he zeroes into your hands, now holding onto the ring that was once wrapped around one of your fingers. That same ring that he had created out of the love from the depths of his heart, a ring that symbolized not only his feelings but also his pledge to never sever the bond you have.

Did you not… want it anymore?

Was the first thought that plagued his mind.

Perhaps… you had finally grown tired of him after all that he has done. After all, who was he to expect you’d always be there for him, when he had clearly not done the same.

He couldn’t really blame you at this point.

He had just ruined the only good thing in his life—and maybe for the better… for you.

Just as he was about to turn around and walk away without a word, he slips back into reality and away from his thoughts on the warmth that attaches itself on his cheeks—a familiar warmth that never fails to pull him out of the darkness and into your presence.

“Darling, shh… what’s wrong? Hey, Xiao? Talk to me, please,” the tenderness of your touch and your soft voice envelops his mind and he couldn’t help but lean into your palm further, placing his gloved hands on top of yours and relishing them on his skin. How they were enough to calm him down makes him even more… greedy—how can he live without you now? The mere thought of it scares him, the old XIAO may not be able to admit it, but the new one after you came into the picture would.

“Please… don’t leave me,” despite this, his words left his lips in a hushed tone, slipping out like a whisper meant for your ears only—his weakness that he never let anyone else see, even his own god.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

TIGHNARI heard your scoff before he saw it. He frowns at the mere sight of your empty fingers, and the glare that’s ever so present in your face.

He marches forward your way and you stood your ground, ready to be hurt by his usual sharo words only to-

“Are you seriously removing our ring because of a petty argument?”

You immediately glance down and before you can sputter out a response, he takes a hold of your hand and slips the ring back himself, back to where it once was—where it belongs. Once you had glanced at him again, he had this relieved look on his face and the twitching on his ears and tail that you didn’t bother to point out.

Was that… a big deal to him?

Your own harsh words died down before they even got out, realizing that there really was no point to continue it as you heaved out a sigh.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

SCARAMOUCHE freezes–not literally, but still–and the ice melts almost suddenly, burning with the intensity of his glare.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

The thing with SCARAMOUCHE is that he takes—he takes what he wants and he will get it either way. With you, he doesn’t understand how you get your way and he becomes pleased with just seeing you smile.

He just wants to see you smile again.

And that ring on your finger.

But both of them are not really present at this very moment.

“You’re just like the others,” he begins to spat when you respond to his question, then he looks away, knowing that you’re going to leave would only make him regret in glancing through your eyes—one that always understood him well, turns out to be just not too different, “You’re going to betray me, after all.”

And now that he said those words aloud it only dawned on him of the intensity the burden was—how much the truth weighed on his shoulders, just like the several other truths he had kept out of the light ever since your arrival.

His shoulders shook and he cursed at the gods once again.

If only… if only he can replace them, and he’ll never have to suffer like this.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAZUHA only got home when it happened.

He left in quite a rush before he sailed off with The Crux, thus leaving you with the argument between the two of you still in the air. And sure, he still did send you letters per usual, the only difference was… you have left him unanswered.

And now that he’s home, he did not know if the sight of the empty house, unopened letters, and the ring left on the counter were something he could have not been surprised with as it was something very expected and reasonable enough.

Feeling stuffy despite the emptiness of the place made him go out and decide to find you. And in his course of doing so, he saw you walking the same way.

“Kazuha… you’re home,” if it were from your displeased tone, he would have already left with the unspoken question answered in his mind. But he stood his ground and made his way towards your form.

“Oh! You found my ring!” You spoke before he can even confront you, and in spite of his surprise upon your actions, upon reaching for your ring, he slips his hands to your waist and wraps your form tightly.

“K-Kazu?” Hearing you stutter even made him more delighted and relieved that his negative thoughts weren’t the reality that he was into.

“I thought you left me… please don’t scare me like that ever again, dove.”

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

“If you are leaving me, you do not need to slip out your ring, you just have to say it out loud. Proclaim it, even!”

IL DOTTORE watches as you looked at him with a bewildered look, eyes wide open and jaw slack, “W-what? I only-“ only for you to purse your lips shut and look away. If you had wanted to say something else, it already flies away like dust and never to be seen again.

“Fine! I am leaving you! Happy now? Well, you certainly would,” there was a venom in your voice that no one around him dares to even whisper a peep about—only you. Only you get to treat him like this and be left unscathed.

Even now.

Even now as he watches you leave and thinks how much your words were very untrue, he can never really admit it out loud, could he?

Certainly not.

He glances down at the ring that once laid very gently on your finger—on your warm skin, and now rests upon the cold ground.

Certainly… not.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

DILUC had always admired your eyes, your strong gaze that had crumbled the walls on DILUC’s high walls.

“Love…” his hands reached out to you first before you could go and step out, and despite the glare that he received from you, “shall we talk about this first? Please don’t-“ leave me. The words died down as he stared even more into your eyes.

But… you have the right to leave, don’t you?

A voice in his mind told him that he should let go—it was your freedom to break things off with him.

But another voice told him that you were not as unreasonable as that.

Right?

The only problem was which voice he should follow.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CYNO failed to process the circumstance as quickly as the others, but as soon as he did, you have already walked out of the room and he was left standing there, with your ring–the ring that he once gave you and had never seen you took off until now–on the bedside table.

A sting on his fingertips as he reached out for the golden band, traveling through his arms and to his chest, where he certainly felt the pang that made his heart almost ache—why so? What does this ring symbolize that he hates seeing it on your fingers and not on his palm?

However, before he could interrogate you, you came back to the room and looked at him with a raised brow, “Why are you staring at my ring like that?” And was the first one to ask the question instead.

He frowns and asks back, “Why did you take it off?’

You sigh heavily and rub your forehead, closing your eyes in frustration, “I’m not in the mood to argue with you again, Cyno. Can you just… give me my ring back? Please?”

Upon sensing your emotions and realizing the situation he wordlessly went and followed what you said, only to take your hand and carefully slide the ring on one of your fingers, feeling the sense of contentment wash through his chest.

You wanted to stay angry at him for not even perceiving his mistake, but the gentle rub of his thumb on your hand made you want to forget it and let it die down…

For now.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AYATO was reminded of his oath, the same oath he had declared to you once he had first slipped the ring on your finger.

But seeing you remove it on your own accord made him feel a pang on his chest, almost akin to the one he felt when he first received news of his mother’s death, of his father’s… and now…

He remained silent and for a rare time in his life, he stopped to contemplate. He had always been known for having the mind to make quick but efficient plans, reasons, and words that would not only be able to hide his true intentions but also to force out someone else’s. Being on edge is nothing new to him. Even this relationship was something he had to fight for and survived with his rational mind.

And now, everything crumbles and thaws like thin ice, forcing him in the cold water that he has always been accustomed to but never fully got to soak in. The truth of the inevitable.

Maybe soulmates really were something only her mother and father could have.

Because even if he found you, he couldn’t even make a way to keep you and his oath to you.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ALHAITHAM didn’t care about rings at all, not until he had met you and felt the significance of such a thing.

And so, when he saw the ring out of your finger—the same ring that he bought for a ton of Mora that he could have invested on something else but since it was something that your eyes laid upon and brightened over its sight, he still bought it—he knew something had gone wrong.

“Y/n- Sweetheart… let’s talk about this first.”

Of course, he was also thinking about the Mora he spent—only a little… but he also worried what could’ve made oyu possibly react in such a way?

Or is he just… insensitive like you had said? Insensitive enough he could figure out a lot of things but couldn’t figure you out.

Your uniqueness is indeed one of your charms—and his very weakness.

“We shouldn’t break up over this, Y/n-“

“Who said I was breaking up with you?” You bite back, despite accepting the gentle hold of his hand on your wrist.

“Your ring… Why did you- Oh.” He stares dumbfoundead when you began to wipe the band with your clothes and proceed to slip it back.

“What? I wiped it off because I washed my hand.”

“I… I see.” He clears his throat, looking away.

Right. His weakness indeed.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ALBEDO would not be as much affected. Of course, he did notice how you took it off and placed it on his laboratory table, before walking off completely. Notice the way your eyes watered and your teeth biting your lower lip in frustration, your heavy breathing and your stifled cries.

He saw them all.

The ring was customary, he had heard it from his colleagues, and indeed, you deserved one—you deserve the best, and he proceeded to give it to you.

But the sight of the ring alone made him realize just how much he had been swallowed by greed. Far too greedy to give you a ring and continue to break his promise nonetheless. Hurting you without meaning to and trapping you in a relationship made of the wholehearted love you give him and the pieces that he decides to give you in return.

ALBEDO wasn’t affected by the ring.

But it did make him realize how much he had affected you.

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~

[marchtothefuckingsea]

The Hunter - Damon Salvatore

My Masterlist

hurt/comfort, soulmate au, vampire bond soulmate au (if you know you know), x gender neutral reader, no usage of y/n, x vamp hunter reader

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Probably canon typical violence, blood, injury, etc. Not proofread, and also my first work coming back from about a month of a break, so it’s not my best. I also don’t know much about TVD vampires, so I’ve just pieced together what said birthday person has ranted to me about it (and what I could scrounge up from wherever) lol

Summary: Reader is a vampire hunter, and they’ve made a stop at Mystic Falls. They’re not there for Damon, rather for a careless rogue vampire; but when Damon gets wind of their presence in town, he wants the infamous vampire hunter gone. So much, that he may just take the chance to finish them off himself. 

I ran.

 I didn't know where I was, or where I was going, I couldn't see 3 feet in front of me through the darkness; I just ran. My feet thudded dully on the forest floor, silenced only to my own ears by the layers upon layers of scattered leaf litter and moss. A figure flashed by my right, much quicker than I, and I couldn't help myself from flinching as it came to stand in front of me.

The feral vampire said nothing, an evil grin plastered on his face. This was nothing but a game to him. My life was a sick, twisted game to him. I raised my stake in warning as he took a step closer.

"Stay the fuck back." I ground out, my opposite arm wrapped defensively around my ribcage. It had been bruised, if not broken, I was sure. 

In a flash, he was right in front of me, my arm burning from his long, sharp nails. I drove my stake forward, aiming for his heart. I stumbled forward, met with no resistance, only air. He was behind me, I knew. A fraction of a second too late, I whipped around. Something rock solid collided with my chest-probably shattering a rib on impact-and I flew back into a tree. I wasn't sure if the sickening crack that echoed around was my bones or the tree.

I slid to the ground, gasping for air. Each breath sent a sharp pain into my lungs and I coughed. I tasted blood. The vampire walked towards me slowly; he knew he was winning the game. I shoved myself to my elbows, breathing heavy and labored, wet with blood.  

A swift kick sent me reeling back against the tree, head slammed into a root protruding from the ground. I knew my torso was covered in bruises by now, and I felt the tenderness forming across my skin already. I saw stars, and the next thing I knew, another burning pain. This time, it was across my abdomen, from the bottom of my ribcage almost the the beginning of my hip. I could barely gasp out a pathetic cry. Blood bubbled up in my throat and I struggled onto my side, then onto my stomach, coughing and choking on my own blood. I fell onto my side.

The vampire's eyes were wild now, glinting red in the moonlight. He took his sweet time kneeling beside me, trailing his long nails over the artery in my neck, applying soft pressure, a low growl in his throat. I sucked in a shaky breath, my body going limp. 

-

Leaves crunched quietly under footsteps, and a twig snapped. My eyes fluttered open. I sucked in a painful breath at the dark figure in front of me, kneeling beside me. Immediately, I pushed my hands to the ground. The leaves were sticky and slippery with my blood; god knows how long I had been left laying there, bleeding out onto the forest floor. But why would any vampire let so much blood go to waste? Even the blood of a hunter was still as good as any other.

He reached for me, and I panicked. I scrambled to my elbows, ignoring the protest of my ribs, of the torn open flesh at  my side. A whimper clawed up my throat. 

"Get away from me." I tried to growl out a threat, but it was barely above a whisper, trailing off into another whine of pain.

"I'm not going to hurt you, calm down." I recognized that deadpan voice.

I shoved myself back against the tree, putting as much distance between us as I could. My entire body trembled as I pressed my back against the tree. I held my arms tight against the open wound stretching across my side as if it would help stop the bleeding. His eyes caught the moonlight, and I flinched back, my breath quickening. My eyes shut against my will and better judgment. I was going to die. 

Surprisingly gentle hands worked their fingers under my shirt, and I whimpered softly in protest, pushing them away with feeble hands. I forced my eyes open, and Damon's face was inches from mine. Blood spattered across his face and his white shirt, a scratch across his brow. He truly looked like a vampire. 

"No." I mumbled weakly. "I- I'm leaving. I'll leave." My throat was raspy. I struggled onto my elbows when I coughed. My body shook as I broke down into a fit of bloody coughs, struggling to hold myself up. An arm crossed my chest, pulling me into the vampire's lap and holding me up, allowing me to lie limp in his arms. I was too weak to fight it.

When the coughs finally died down, I kicked my legs weakly against the ground, and began to push against his arm that still held me against him. I knew it was pointless, he was ridiculously strong and if he didn’t want me escaping, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. Whining quietly, I twisted in his arms, falling back when I felt a sharp jab against my lungs. One of his hands found its way to my forehead, gently pushing blood-matted hair out of my face.

“You’re safe now.” He reassured me, seriously. His voice, for once, held no trace of either sarcasm or a threat. I forced myself to relax a little bit at that, until he shifted me out of his lap, lying me back down on the ground. I found myself clinging to him, terrified of being left out here, vulnerable and sure to die. 

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere. Just gotta look you over before I move you too far.” Tenderly prying me away from him, I was laid back down on the soft moss and leaf litter. I grit my teeth, all the different wounds on my body protesting. He, for the second time, took the hem of my shirt between his fingers, attempting to pull it up to get access to where the majority of my injuries were. I protested feebly, pushing at his hands. I didn’t want him to see the extent of damage that stray vamp had done to me. I was supposed to be a hunter, I should have been able to handle it. But instead, I ran like any other scared person would have. I was weak, and I didn’t want him to see that. 

He was persistent, and I finally gave in when he grasped my hand in his own, lying it down by my side. My face contorted in pain even as his knuckles only brushed over my bruised skin, and I heard him let out a breath of shock. I knew just about my entire body must have been covered in bruises differing in severity, but mostly nasty ones. I began to drift off again.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Okay.” He was struggling with something, I could see it in his usually stoic face. 

 He brought his wrist up to his lips, but I couldn’t see what he was doing. “Here.” He finally decided. A metallic smell invaded my nostrils, and I felt warm liquid on my lips. “I don’t know if this will heal you all the way, but it should stop you from dying for now.” I finally realized what he was doing. 

As much as it hurt, I forced myself onto my side, spitting the taste of his blood off of my lips, wiping the rest off with my hand. “I’m not going to die with the blood of a vamp in my system.” I spat at him, though my voice was weak. “I’m not stupid.” 

“You’d be stupid to refuse it.” He said, calmer than ever. “You’re going to die if you don’t accept my help.” 

I eased back down onto my side, biting back a hiss of pain. I glared at him through my darkening vision as viciously as I could. He knew I didn’t have much longer, and I did too. “Besides, think about it. If I knew you were going to die, I wouldn’t give it to you.” My eyes drifted shut. “Why the fuck would I want a vampire hunter running around for eternity?” I heard him get to his feet, though it sounded murky and far away.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath. He turned back. My eyes widened in alarm when he slid his arms underneath me, now carrying me. 

“No! No, no no no.” I mumbled weakly. “No, don’t.” 

“Calm down.” He grumbled, continuing to walk at a brisk pace. “If you want to do this the hard way, then I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” 

I stopped fighting when I coughed, fearing another coughing fit. I stilled in his arms, trying to tamp down the fear that had my heart racing. I knew he could hear it. It wasn’t very long before my eyes fluttered shut again, and I didn’t have any choice but to trust he had good intentions. 

-

I woke up in his arms, my body convulsing. I heard faint cursing, and then I was laid down on the ground. Seizures wracked my frame. My vision was blurred as I felt iron hands hold me down to keep me from thrashing. I tossed my head from side to side, pained sounds clawing up my bloody throat. When my body finally lay limp, I began to cough painfully, blood bubbling up into my mouth. I didn't have it in me to struggle against the vampire as he kneeled beside me, gathering me up in his arms and lying me face down before I could drown in my own blood.

I finally relaxed, gasping for air. He gently turned me onto my back, and his face came into focus as he bit his wrist for the second time. This time, I didn't protest. I sucked from his wrist greedily, the taste of his blood heavy in my mouth and mixing with my own. Laying limp in his lap, I was beginning to feel relief for the first time in what felt like days. Wounds no longer burned. It was easier to breathe. There was no longer a stabbing pain against my lungs. My body still begged for rest, however, and I found myself drifting off again as he hefted me into his arms once more. 

-

I rolled onto my side with a small groan and a sigh, squeezing my eyes shut. I was in a bed, I realized, somewhere I didn't recognize. My eyes flew open when I recalled what had happened, and I forced myself onto my elbows, still feeling drained. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stumbled onto unsteady feet, staggering into the wall as I regained my balance. My limbs were weak with exhaustion. I stumbled into the hallway and immediately froze. Damon froze too, before cautiously walking towards me. He approached me as if I were a wounded animal.

"It's okay." He told me. I took a step back, then another, unsure. The back of my legs hit a small table, and I jolted, swinging my head around. I was immediately forced to lean against the wall for support, a wave of dizziness overcoming me at the sudden motion. 

"How are you feeling?" Damon asked me carefully. 

"I'm fine." I lied. "Why did you-" My legs gave out, and I gripped onto the table for support. 

"That doesn't matter right now. You still need to rest." He was beside me in an instant.

I steadied myself on my feet, flinching away from him. "No, I need to go."

"He wasn't alone. His pals are out there waiting for you. You wouldn't make it a hundred feet from the door." He said sternly. I shook my head.

"I'll take my chances." I mumbled, even though my body said otherwise. Leaning against him now, I didn't want to leave the warmth that radiated off of him. I didn't protest when he slipped an arm under my shoulders carefully, walking me back to the bedroom. What looked like **his bedroom, I realized.

I still didn't argue as he put a hand on my chest, urging me to lie back. My eyes fluttered shut. Why was I so trusting all of a sudden? 

"No, no." I mumbled. Something wasn't **right about this. "What did you do to me?"

"What?" He sounded offended.

"Why am I- what did-" Realization showed clearly on his face.

"Oh. That. Uh, the..bond." He stuttered. "You drank my blood…." He trailed off unsurely.

"Fuck." I groaned out, leaning back.

I hesitated before asking. "I thought they couldn't form from one time without some sort of pre-existing..thing…" I trailed off, my gaze shifting to his quizzically. 

"They can't." He answered simply. It told me all I needed to know. We were soulmates.

"Did you know? Before?"

"No. No, not at first. Not the first time. I didn't realize until..." His jaw was taut and he took a deep breath. "Until you were attacked."

"Oh." I breathed out softly.

"I felt your life slipping away. I've felt that many times before, during your life. It never affected me much,-the connection was faint, barely even there- but it- it was so different with you dying in my arms.." His voice was strained, and I found myself gripping his hand tightly. "It was stronger, too. So much stronger." He was frowning, but he glanced up at me and gave me a tight smile, looking down at our intertwined fingers.

"Did you ever have a soulmate before me?" 

Another deep breath. "No." 

"So you're saying, you've been alive for…170 years? And you never had a soulmate as a human?" 

"I guess it was always in my destiny to become a vampire." His voice was bitter. I didn't ask; it felt too personal, right now. It was a story for another time.

I surprised myself with that thought.

"And I was born a hunter." I snorted. 

"Pretty ironic." 

"Yeah." I agreed, blinking and righting my head. 

"You need to rest." Damon noticed. 

"Do you have a guest room or something? Or a couch-"

"I mean…." He trailed off, his tone suddenly teasing. "**Technically, yes. But why sleep there when you could sleep with your soulmate?" He raised his eyebrows and I couldn't help my huff of laughter.

"I know what you're implying, Damon, and I don't like it." My own tone was teasing.

"I should also tell you, there are other vampires here." 

I stiffened, my eyes darting to his in alarm. He was serious. "Do they want me dead?" I asked cautiously. His expression had been worried when he noticed my immediate defensiveness, but now it was amused. 

"Most likely not." His voice was laced with laughter. 

"What do you mean, **most likely not**?" 

"I mean it's just my brother and his girlfriend." He patted my shoulder. 

"Jesus." I muttered, leaning back. 

"Well?" 

"I think I'd feel….safer, sleeping with you." I admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. "God, I hate being bonded already." 

"You'll get used to it, don't worry." He rolled over onto the bed beside me, making me gasp in surprise. His grin next to me made my heart race.

"What are you doing?"

"This **is my bed." He grinned wickedly, wrapping his arms around my form, caging me against him. I didn't fail to notice though, that his grip was faltering, allowing me to put distance between us if I felt the need to. That alone, told me enough about him. I let out a hum, letting my body relax next to him. He tangled his legs with mine as I drifted off. I couldn't help but to nestle closer to him, feeling a blanket of safety settle over me.

[basiccortez]

Keep The Wolves Away- R. Abbott

Chapter 1 pairing: eventually, Rhett Abbott x female!reader. Female!Reader x Luke Tillerson. Reader's last name is Lawton word count: 2.0k warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, mentions of cheating, mentions of dementia, slight spoilers to outer range. eventual: death, murder, fighting, excessive drinking, cheating, birth. masterlist

Rhett couldn’t help who he loved. It was just who he was. Behind that tough exterior and the tough cowboy act he tried so hard to push, he was a sweet, old soul. You would just never know it behind the constant revolving door of girls that seemed to follow him wherever he went. There was always a trail of broken hearts following behind Rhett. Rhett didn’t care when he broke a girl's heart, he knew that their arrangements were nothing more than a quickie in the bathroom of the Pit Bar or Handsome Gambler. He hardly knew their names, probably couldn’t pick their faces out in a crowd. They were girls who were there for the whole crew, buckle bunnies, if you will. Except for her. 

When Rhett’s blue eyes first landed on her, he knew that he had to have her. But her face was bright red as she stood toe to toe with Luke Tillerson. Their fight could be heard on the other side of the rodeo ground, and this was one of their more tame fights. Cecilia had said one time she was pretty sure she could hear the two of them yelling from their ranch. Both of them were stubborn, and it was beyond Rhett to figure out whatever she saw in Luke Tillerson. 

Y/N Lawton was perfect. Her perfect hair, her perfect smile, her perfect body. She was kind and gentle to everyone, even when they took that for granted. She grew up in the church, her family usually sitting next to Cecilia and Royal on Sunday mornings. Her older brother, Brooks, had been in Rhett’s class. Rhett never really paid attention to Y/N, she was always the annoying little sister that tagged along when Brooks and Rhett would go on hikes on the Lawton Ranch. She had always been quiet, growing up in the shadow of Brooks bull riding success. Her parents seemed more focused on him than they ever had been on her. She disappeared for some time, then came back a beautiful, and smart woman. 

“Can’t you just shut the fuck up, for once!” 

“It’s not that hard to ask that my fiance doesn’t stare at other women!” 

‘Fiance’? Rhett asked him, ‘When did that happen?’ 

“It’s also not that hard to ask my fiance to stop staring at these stupid rodeo boys like she’s starving!” 

“Screw you Luke. Don’t even bother coming home.” Rhett watched her turn on her heel and walk away from Tillerson, leaving him heaving. 

Luke and Y/N had been on and off for years. Luke was a known cheater, but hell so were most of the rodeo guys. What happened on the road, stayed on the road. The wives of the riders all knew what they got up to on those long weekends in the middle of nowhere. Most chose to ignore it, those were the strong ones, others let it get to them. Clearly, Y/N was one of the ones who let it get to her. Even Rhett could see that she deserved better than Luke Tillerson, but it wasn’t like he was much better. As much as Rhett hated to admit it, Luke was probably the better option as a husband for her. 

“Hey, you good?” Perry asked, walking up to his younger brother. 

“Yeah,” Rhett said, shaking his head, “When did Luke and Y/N get engaged?” 

“Two, three weeks ago,” Cecilia said, “If you went to church with us, you would’ve known. They announced it to the whole congregation.” 

“I thought they were broken up.” 

“Rumor going around that she caught him with another woman and threatened to tell everyone, and that’s why he asked. I can only imagine what her folks think,” Cecilia tisked, “Pay for that fancy nursing education just for her to come back, and get engaged to a Tillerson.” 

“Won’t have to use that education. Be set for life,” Perry grumbled and Rhett glared at him, “What? It’s true. Can be just like their mother.” 

“Crazy and fly off to Aspen?” Royal chided. 

“She’s better than that.” Rhett said under his breath, “I gotta go.” 

“Good luck son,” Royal said, and each of the family members wished him luck before the ride. Usually, Rhett’s mind was focused on the 2000 pound animal he was about to ride, but for some reason his mind was focused on Y/N. It was the first time he had seen her in almost a year, and here she was engaged. Rhett kept his head down as he walked, which inevitably made him run into someone. 

“Oh shit-” “I’m sor-” 

“Rhett?” 

“Y/N,” Rhett said and looked her up and down, “It’s been-” 

“Abbott! Let’s go!” One of the rodeo hands called out for him. She smiled at him and moved past him. Rhett watched as she walked over to the stands, taking a seat right next to Luke. He clenched his jaw as he watched Luke put his arm around her shoulders and pull her into him. She looked up at him and he mumbled something against her lips, and she shook her head and kissed him, “You ready?” 

“Yeah,” Rhett grumbled and took the rope in his hand. 

— — — 

The ride went about as good as all the rest of them went. Rhett had scored enough to keep himself safe and advance on to the next round. Everyone congratulated him as he walked into the Pit Bar that night. Rhett gave him a simple nod of his head as he made his way up to the bar. 

“The man of the hour! Rhett fucking Abbott!” The loud voice that called out to him could only belong to one Brooks Lawton. 

“Brooks,” Rhett smiled and greeted him with a hand shake, “How ya been? Didn’t see you in the circuit.” 

“Nah, I had to bail out of this one. Dad wasn’t doing too hot, disease is making him fucking crazy,” Brooks said and Rhett sighed. The word that Y/N and Brooks’ old man had gotten dementia spread like wildfire in the town, “I got lucky and was placed next weekend. Gonna give you a fucking run for your money.” 

“No doubt about that,” Rhett said and thanked the bartender for placing a beer in front of him, “Where’s your sister?” 

“Over there with that fucking Tillerson boy.” 

“Why did she come back?” 

“He knocked her up,” Brooks clenched his jaw, “Get this, she called me in tears four months ago saying that he went and cheated on her at some rodeo up in Cheyenne and that she’s done with him and all this shit. Never coming back to Wabang. . . just to find herself back here, with a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly. And that’s not even the craziest thing, she hasn’t even told him.” 

That made Rhett choke on his beer, “What?” 

“Scared of what might happen if she does. You know how they are. Who knows what hippy shit Wayne might try and do. She’s already terrified as it is.” Brooks looked down at his boots. Rhett’s eyes were set on the table across the bar. All three Tillerson boys sat there, each with a girl under their arm. Y/N looked like she would rather be anywhere but right next to Luke, while Luke looked like he would rather have the girl next to Billy. 

Y/N could feel eyes on here as she looked down at the diamond ring on her finger that felt unusually heavy. The smell of alcohol and smoke made her feel nauseated as she tried taking small sips of air to and stop the feeling of rising bile in her throat. She shifted in her seat and Luke looked down at her. He had noticed her odd behavior all night but brushed it off. She was probably still pissed about their fight at the rodeo. 

“You okay, Y/N? You look a little green,” Trevor asked her. She bit her lip and nodded, but Luke narrowed his blue eyes at her. 

“You sure babe?” Luke asked, and that was the last straw for her. 

“No, c-can you move?” Y/N rushed out, her voice breaking. Luke moved quickly, feeling the urgency radiating off her body. As soon as Luke was out of the booth, she quickly stood to her feet and ran for the door. 

“The hell was that about?” Billy asked, looking from his brother to the door of the bar. Luke just shrugged and shook his head sitting back down. 

On the other side of the bar, Rhett noticed her leaving quickly. He excused himself from Brooks and Perry, and made his way towards the same path she did. She must’ve moved fast cause when Rhett got outside there was no sign of her. He looked around the dark parking lot and sighed. 

‘What am I even doing? She’s fucking engaged,’ He thought to himself, ‘She’s engaged and. . . throwing up on the side of the building’ 

“Holy shit,” Rhett said to himself and shuffled over to her, as she was bent over and throwing up. She had one hand on the side of the wall to brace herself as her other hand held back her hair from her face. “You okay?” He called out to her as he approached. What a dumb fucking question. . . 

“Y-yeah I’m fine!” Y/N answered. She stood up straight and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, “Just the smell in there is. . .” 

“Gross?” Rhett asked, finishing her sentence. She nodded and turned to look at him. Her eyes were even more beautiful than he remembered, even if they were bloodshot and red from her getting sick. He took a step closer to her but stopped when he heard Luke calling her name. 

“Babe?!” Luke said, brushing past Rhett and grabbing her face gently, “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Y/N said. 

“Did you get sick?” 

“No-” “Yeah.” Rhett and her said at the same time. Luke looked over his shoulder, noticing him still standing there. 

“I came out for a smoke and saw her getting sick.” 

“Well thanks for checking on her,” Luke said, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” Y/N nodded her head as Luke placed his hand on the small of her back, gently leading her to walk forward. 

“Oh Rhett, tell Brooks I’m staying with Luke. I’ll be by in the morning to meet with the health aides,” Y/N said softly and Rhett gave her a nod. 

“Yeah. . . thanks again. . .” Luke gave Rhett a fake smile as he rammed his shoulder into his as he walked past him. Rhett stumbled a bit and clenched his jaw. He turned around and watched as Luke’s hand traveled down lower to grab your ass, which he did mainly to piss off Rhett and show him that she belonged to him. Rhett kicked around a couple of rocks before going back inside the bar. 

Luke opened the door to his truck and helped her get in. When the door shut she leaned her head against the window, still feeling gross from getting sick on the side of the building. Luke climbed in his truck and sighed, tapping his fingers on the wheel, not yet turning it on. They sat in silence for a moment before Luke turned to look at his fiance. 

“I’m gonna ask you again. . . are you sure you’re not pregnant?” 

Y/N looked down at her hands in her lap, staring once again at the large diamond ring, “No, I’m not pregnant.”

--- --- ---

taglist: @starlightsiren

taglist form

[bloodycrxwn]

When they first got involved, when they first gave in to their desires and emotions, Meredith knew there was no future for them. Their conversations about running together, far away from her family where they would get to live a normal life, as new people without any titles, it was just the conversation of two naive souls, who were deeply in love for one another. But then, the pregnancy came and Meredith was both scared and excited. In that moment, she wanted to go, to leave everything behind and be with Zehab, wherever they ended up at. But before anything could happen, he was gone. Without a word, without saying goodbye or giving her an explanation, he just left. And for the longest time, her heart was broken, the only thing keeping her alive was her son, who reminded her of the man who had abandoned her every day. Although, now that he came back and promised to stay, all of the pain and suffering was behind her back, instead replaced with feelings of hope and happiness, finally. And now, Meredith didn't care what others said, what they whispered about her. She was in love with Zehab, ready to give up her title for him, so that they could get married and have their happy ending.

Meredith smiled at his words, but before she could say anything, Zehab was down on one knee, taking her hand in his. Her free hand went immediately to her mouth, shocked by the actions of the man in front of her. There were tears already in her eyes before he even started talking, because she knew what was coming. The moment she had thought and dreamed about so many times. Meredith had no words, she was too shocked to say anything and overwhelmed with happiness. "I ... " She trailed off, nodding her head quickly as tears fell down her cheeks. "Yes. Yes, of course." She managed to get out before kneeing in front of him and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hard and passionate kiss.

In the past, Zehab would have never dared dream of asking Meredith to stay with him in a place such as this; so plain, so humble, hardly even a scratch on the surface of the castle where she grew up. They'd have to work for their food, and he would be home late some nights; winters cold, summers hot... it had once been to Zehab a death sentence for a Princess such as her. He would lay awake in his younger years, hating his station, his worth, wishing himself into the life of a Lord or a Count. Deep down... maybe Zehab knew that was the real reason he'd ran. There once was no doubt if Meredith would go anywhere with him- but back then, he'd not bee able to bring himself to let her. Now, he was beginning to understand... Meredith was strong, and could make her own sound decisions. She risked her reputation at his side, night after night, her hand in his. Rumors were probably already a wildfire through the palace, though he trusted the Wright crew to keep it silence, for the most part, to the outside.

None of that mattered, though. Not in this moment, and not ever. Zehab understood now the importance of time, and making the most of it. He wouldn't hesitate, not any longer. " It went... better than expected. " The King would never like Zehab, that was clear, but he'd given the one thing that the new knight needed. His blessing. Sinking to a knee, Zehab reached out, taking Meredith's hand into his. He had no ring, for he had no money, not yet, but that would come later. Instead, he would offer her nothing but himself, but his words, but this home, but his promise. Tears were glistening already in his eyes, as he began to speak. " Meredith Windsor, I was enamored by you the day I saw you. Each passing week, as we drew nearer, I found myself with this strange sense of... knowing. There was never a doubt in my mind that you were not the love of my life, and I have been so blessed to have this second chance. I... I want you to marry me, Meredith. Your brother gave his blessing. We have permission. I want to make you my wife. "

[lilevixen]

gojo’s work partner being sick of his womanizing ways but still falling victim to him in the end ☺️

when you first get paired up with him, it's clear you mean business and business only. despite his persistent advances, you always blow him off; you are well aware of his reputation, of the trail of women he leaves broken and empty behind him once he was done toying around with them. it was supposed to be simple, keep it classy, professional, don’t let the womanizing demon with the face of an angel infiltrate your senses. but to gojo, it was a game, and if it was a game he was going to win. slowly but surely he starts to affect you.

he finds it so amusing to see you try to fight it, to still your breaths when he leans into the curve of your neck to compliment your new perfume, or not flinch when he ushers you into rooms by the small of your back.

the utter shock you feel when you realize half of his ‘business calls’ are just girls, pretty eyes, the caller id had said, but now that you made a habit of checking you’d seen it all, curly hair, slit skirt, red lipstick #3, girls he liked enough to give his number to but didn’t care to remember the names of. when you finally curse him out about it he just fucking laughs, grabs your hand that you were using to dramatically jab his chest to lace your fingers with his own “i don’t get why you’re so mad! i have your name saved, don’t i? unless you want a nickname too.” he was absolutely fucking awful, disgusting, a pig who couldn’t care less ab the feelings of the women he entertained yet,, did your heart just flutter? what was the heat boiling deep in the pit of your stomach rising up into your chest? anger. yeah, it had to be just anger. except it’s not and gojo knows it, feels it, understands it more than you ever could, and he’s reveling in watching you start to break.

when he accidentally texts your number instead of one of his many playthings

g: ‘sorry! meant for someone else :p’

y: ‘Yeah, I’m sure it was.’

g: ‘i’d let you have me way easier than any of them by the way <3’

y: ‘I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any easier.’

g: ‘</3’

and using the partner card to get you to go out with him, calling you from a bar

“i’m drinking alone, y/n. i could cause some serious damage in my drunken state if you’re not here to help.”

“you’ll be fine.”

“aren’t you my partner? isn’t it your job to monitor me in high-risk situations? just come for a while, make sure this place doesn’t spontaneously combust. maybe have a drink together after, if we survive.”

“i’m off the clock, gojo.”

“damn, you really hate my guts, don’t you, doll?” you could hear his shit-eating grin through the phone.

“i don’t, i just don’t have the time nor the care to entertain your silly whims. i have a life outside of work, you know?”

“c’mooooonnnn y/n. you want me to beg? i’ll do it, i’m not above begging”

this man is tenacious as hell and at this point it’s wearing you down a bit, regardless of your unfazed front. flowers at your doorstep when you do really well on a mission (your favorites that he somehow remembered from an offhand comment), let’s you choose wherever you guys would stop for lunch and pays every time, fussing over the tiniest of injuries you’d get on a mission, all solemn and protective (could literally be a scratch. which most times, it is)- everything was adding up, weighing you down, not exactly blinding you of his true intentions but making it a lot more palatable.

and then you find out he’s been seeing another one of your colleagues. and when you confront him this time, the anger was partially for all the girls he’s constantly hurting, but part of it was just you, your own stupid, chemical emotions that somehow got twisted into this stupid whore of a man. this was gojo’s checkmate moment.

“you jealous, doll?” he smirks, because it’s true. you aren’t just angry like the other times, you really are jealous; he knows it’ll be difficult to try and deny it this time. and try you do, fruitlessly and gracelessly like a bird trying to fly with pinned wings. while you sputter out unconvincing protests, he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

“you know, if you like me you could’ve just said so. i like you a lot too, y/n. i’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now.” your heart gallops at his words, at his proximity, at how you can taste the spearmint on his breath. you like him, you do, you really do, you tried not to and you failed. you have to keep denying, though. you can’t give in.

“i-i’m not interested! you’re being completely unprofessional!”

“says the one who came to me screaming about some girl i fucked.” gojo- 1, you - 0

“some girl? they’re people with names, you pig! you have no right to parade around messing with the hearts and minds of these women! and watch your mouth!”

“i don’t need to remember their names. yours is the only one that matters.” gojo- 2, you- 0

“you’re such a liar!”

“and what are you?” he lets out an evil fucking chuckle. 3-nil.

“i’m not lying! i don’t like you! i hate you!”

“then why are you letting me this close to you?” he rests his large palm on the side of your neck, his fingertips grazing behind the lobe of your ear. “why’s your heart beating so fast?” he slides his hand up to your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks as he gives your head a playful shake. “why are you letting me touch you? hm? tell me.” he wins. your teary doe eyes and trembling bottom lip gives it away. and before you can open that pretty little mouth to spout some more lame excuses he kisses you, ravenous and wet and hot.

you’re like putty in his hand by now, soft, pliable, shivering and mewling into the messiness of your tongues roaming one another. even though it's a game to him, he isn't completely lying. you are kind of special to him, your cool demeanor, straight-laced, no-nonsense attitude with wit sharp as a whip. and hot as shit, to boot. that just makes this all the more exciting, seeing you dissolve at his touch.

it's cute, in sad sort of way, how wet you are just from one little kiss, the droplets of arousal rolling down your thighs past your pencil skirt. it's also very amusing to watch you squirm around with just two fingers inside, “‘s too big, too much satoru” how a few quick flicks on your spongey walls has you convulsing, panting, clawing at his back and whimpering his name like a hymn.

and when he has you at your most vulnerable, pinned against the wall, bracing with one arm the other holding you by your waist as his cock slams into the very deepest parts of you, he asks “wanna be my slut?” and it’s a delight seeing your fucked out face, your eyes so watery and full of love, honest “yes, all yours, always, m’your slut!” he slows his pace but angles himself even deeper, rhythmic, and places a kiss on your droolly open mouth, the kind of thing that’ll make a girl fall in love. “prove it. cum on my cock. can my slut do that, hm? you gonna be good for me?” and like that his words have you spasming, your pussy gripping his dick with each pulse of your orgasm, his load filling you up not long after.

you get it now, why he has so many women obsessing over him, why they never seem to leave him alone. at least he can’t avoid you like the others. you’re partners, after all.

[thermitetermite]

Can we have more of your hive mind villain and mind control super villain? I really love their dynamic and how you write them

Prompt #10 - Mind Control X Hive Mind Clones Part 3

Author's note - Ask and you shall receive! I hope you enjoy!

Tldr: Villain takes Supervillain on a date to get their mind off of things. Villain is a goof in the best way possible. Pure fluff

TW: Mentions of previous deaths/injuries (Villain has a broken arm), Villain flips themselves off jokingly, a lot of flirting, nothing explicit!

"You ready for our date babe? Just you, me, and a whole day of fun waiting for us." Villain asked with a cocky grin, messing with the strap on their arm sling.

"I don't know... Maybe it would be better if we stayed home today." Supervillain responded while looking at themselves in the mirror and adjusting their tie.

It was about a week ago when a hero broke into Supervillain's lair and harmed many of Villain's copies. Aside from the physical damage done to Villain and the lair, Supervillain was extremely shaken following the incident.

Supervillain became exceedingly more stressed than normal which was understandable. They saw copies of the love of their life dead. They lost a project they were really excited about. They were panicked about the security of their own home and often insisted that at least 5 copies of Villain be near them at all times.

Villain couldn't bare the thought of Supervillain being scared in their own home.

It was for this reason that Villain knew they had to get Supervillain out of the house and back to relaxing. Not just a little errand but an actual outing. So Villain took their time planning a date for Supervillain that would completely distract them from their worries. Just something to take their mind off everything. They proposed the idea to Supervillain a couple days ago to give them time to mentally prepare and finished the final plans after they were given the green light.

Villain walked up to Supervillain, locking their gaze in the mirror while fixing their tie.

"It's ok if you'd like to stay home. I want you to be comfortable wherever we are, date or no date. But I really think it would be good for you to get out of the house. It's not good for you to be cooped up like this." They tucked a stray strand of hair behind Supervillain's ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps up their chin.

"I hope you know that if you decide to stay in I'm waiting on you hand and foot. I don't want you to lift a finger or stress your gorgeous head one bit."

Supervillain flushed from the attention before taking a minute to think. Villain smirked once again before standing on their tip toes to press a kiss to Supervillain's temple. Supervillain pressed a return kiss to their forehead, now meeting their eyes.

"You've probably spent a lot of time planning this date haven't you?"

"A little but it'd be no problem to cancel."

"I'd prefer not to put you through that. And I think you're right. I need to get out of here at least for a little while. If we spend another day bingeing 'The Price is Right' I think you'll lose your mind."

Villain's eyes lit up, taking Supervillain by the hand and leading them towards the door. "I'd lose my mind? I'm not the one who Google's the prices just so my guess would be correct! But on a real note, thank you. If you start to get overwhelmed or if you want to go home please let me know. All my copies have their license on them so any body of mine can drive you!"

Villain stopped to give Supervillain a kiss on the lips, their non-broken arm coming to cup their face. Supervillain gladly welcomed the kiss, holding Villain tenderly as if afraid they could hurt them more than they already were. When they pulled away Supervillain seized the moment and took Villain's hand in their own, moving it to their lips before planting another kiss on Villain's knuckles.

"You romantic sap, you. Stealing my hand. Stealing my heart. What a Villain indeed."

"Correction, Supervillain my dear."

"Yeah, yeah, I know your title. Still not over seeing it on the news are you? Well that's ok, I'm not over it either! Now come on cutie, I have a date waiting for you!"

________________________________

A blindfolded Supervillain arrived at the restaurant led by an all-to-eager Villain. Just one copy of them. Supervillain tried to ask what that was about, since Villain liked having multiple copies with them at all times, but Villain only shushed them.

"It's a surprise dear! You wouldn't want to ruin a perfectly good surprise would you?"

"No, I suppose not." Supervillain chuckled while Villain stopped them in front of what must have been the restaurant.

"Ok! We're here! You can take off the blindfold now!" Villain exclaimed seemingly more giddy than Supervillain. Supervillain complied, taking off the blindfold to find they were standing in front of a fancy Italian restaurant. They smiled, happy that Villain had remembered Italian was their favorite, before offering their arm to Villain. Villain looked at it confused at first before recognizing the gesture and eagerly taking the arm to walk in the building.

Immediately they were greeted by a copy of Villain standing at the front desk. Supervillain looked confused while Villain went along with it.

"Hello guests! Table for two?" The copy asked.

"Yes! That sounds lovely." Villain responded, amusing Supervillain.

"Great! Table or booth?"

Both copies turned to Supervillain who snapped out of the little scene before them.

"Uh, booth would be good."

"Excellent choice! We'll get you all set up! I hope you two lovebirds have an amazing date. You make such a cute couple!" The desk copy said while typing the information into their computer. "Your server will be with you in a moment!"

Just before Supervillain could ask questions to Villain, another copy arrived in a server uniform. Leading them to a cozy corner booth with a good view. Supervillain noticed the entire restaurant was empty save for them.

"Woah! Who ordered the hottie over here." The server copy commented while the original copy swatted at them.

"Hey! Comments to yourself buddy. This is my date!" The OG copy mock argued with them, earning both a blush and a giggle from Supervillain.

"Fine, fine! What do you two want then. There's no point in me staying out here longer than I have to if I can't ogle the eye candy." The server huffed before shooting Supervillain a wink.

Supervillain tried to ignore how warm they felt as they ordered the chicken parm. Villain went to order but got cut off by the server copy.

"I only need hot stuff's order, not yours. It'll be out soon cutie!" The server walked to the back to input the order even though it wasn't needed.

"Man, they have such lousy service here honey. I don't think we should leave them a tip." Villain said to Supervillain, grinning like a fool when they finally earned an actual laugh from them.

"I don't know dear, I think that server was quite nice. Easy on the eyes." Supervillain responded, deciding to feed into the scenario.

Villain gave a look of mock shock before putting their good hand on their chest and leaned back in the booth.

"You wound me! How could you? I thought we had something special!" Villain cried in their best betrayed voice.

"We do have something very special, my love. It's not everyday you get an entire restaurant to yourself. How much did it cost you?" Supervillain reached across the table and held Villain's hand.

Villain quickly gave them a pat on the hand. "Don't worry about it. We're here to have a nice time out so let's not talk finances. I hope you're having fun. I know it's probably pretty silly but I didn't want you to feel unguarded or unsafe. But I also don't want you to feel like I'm too controlling. If you want to leave-"

"Nonsense!" Supervillain quickly interjected, surprising Villain. "I appreciate all the hard work you've done and I think this is really cute. Thank you for making sure I feel comfortable! And it's bold of you to think you could be controlling when you're literally dating a master of control who could spot toxic behavior from a mile away. All I see here is a dork who probably majored in theater."

"Chemistry actually."

"I know silly! Still surprised you chose security over lab work."

"With how much copies cost I'd be poor."

"Luckily crime does pay."

"Yep, it sure does! But in my case I think I got lucky finding someone who can actually hire me and my copies."

"You know I couldn't live without my army of chemists. And another thing! Why would we just leave when we just ordered food. I'm not leaving without my chicken parm."

Just then the food arrived. A chicken parm for Supervillain and Meat Lovers pizza for Villain. Before the server left they stole a piece of pizza off Villain's plate, flipped them the bird, and waved at Supervillain.

"I hate that server." Villain grumbled before diving into their pizza. Supervillain could help but laugh again at their love's antics.

Both ate their fill and after they were done a dessert was delivered to the table with a note. Supervillain picked up the note and read a couple lines before giving a little 'oh my' and fanning themselves with the letter.

"What is it?" Villain asked feigning ignorance and curiosity.

"It appears the chef is very apt at writing poetry. Quite the love letter if I do say so myself. I'm practically swooning." They giggled before diving into the chocolate cake with a side of vanilla ice cream.

"Wow, someone's popular today. I might have to fend off your admirers with a broom." Villain said while resting their head on their hand. The stars in their eyes as they looked at Supervillain gave away their jealous act, or rather their lack of it.

Supervillain caught their obvious lovestruck gaze and offered a spoonful of cake to them. Villain went to grab the spoon before stopped by Supervillain. They moved the spoon to Villain's mouth themselves waiting patiently for Villain to take the bite.

"You're injured. It's my job to take care of you until you're better so that means I have to get things for you when you can't. You're resting your head on your good hand right now so it's my job to make sure you get some of this amazing dessert."

"How did I ever get so lucky to get a partner in crime as amazing as you?"

"Maybe by being equally if not more amazing. Thank you for the wonderful date! It's been nice to get some alone time with you without thinking about work."

"I'm just happy I could help."

"You two should kiss." The server copy interrupted, causing Villain to look over annoyed.

Supervillain, however, didn't hesitate before standing up and leaning over the table to kiss their beloved Villain. The server copy cheered in the background.

Villain made up their mind that crime definitely pays and it pays extremely well.

[valentoru]

|| Limitless ||

[CHAPTER 6]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PREVIOUS : MASTERLIST : NEXT

You had never been to Gojos’s “department” before, but you knew exactly where to find it. It was the biggest sales point for the whole company, therefore they took pride in it. Even going to such lengths as to making Gojo his own office and personal booth for filming his music. But as valued as it was, it was coveted by the unanimous and never-ending source of resentment towards Gojo. You had to swipe your badge twice to get into the department (you rolled your eyes both times). The second door took you directly to the main office area. He had a big team. Maybe it was because he was tall or maybe it was because he was the only person on their feet, but Gojo was the very first person you noticed. Hell, he was the very first thing your noticed. He was talking to one of his managers, looking rather stern. Scary. But, despite how focused he was, he turned his head towards the entrance the moment you came in.

You smiled weakly at him—mainly out of relief at having found him.

It was going to be fine. You were going to explain to him what Megumi had told you, and without a doubt find it categorically unacceptable and fix it for the both of them, because you could not spend your next few years surrounded by people who thought that you were dating Satoru fucking Gojo.

The problem was, Gojo wasn’t the only person who noticed you, there were more desk then you could count, all of them occupied. Most of them—all of them—were staring at you. Probably because most of them—all of them—had heard that you were dating their boss.

Fuck your life.

“Can I talk to you for a minute—” you coughed awkwardly, you had to do it. “—Satoru?” Rationally, you knew that the room wasn’t furnished in a way that made echoing possible. Still, you felt as though your words bounced off the walls and repeated about five times.

He nodded, nonplussed, and handed some files to the man he was talking to before heading in your direction. He appeared either unaware or uncaring that approximately two-thirds of his staff were gaping at him. The remaining ones seemed on the verge of a hemorrhagic stroke.

He led you to a meeting room just outside the main office space, you followed him silently, trying not to dwell on the fact that a department full of people thought that you were dating Gojo and they had just seen you both enter a private room. Alone.

This was the worst. The absolute worst.

“Everyone knows,” you blurted out as soon as the door closed behind you.

He studies you for a moment, looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”

“Everyone knows. About us.”

He cocked his head, folding his arms over his chest. It had been barley a day since you’d last talked, but apparently long enough for you to have forgotten his…his presence. Or what ever it was that made you feel like your were tiny, insignificant when you were around him. “Us?”

“Us.”

He seemed confused, so you elaborated.

“Us, dating. Not that we’re dating, but clearly Maki thought so and she told…” you realised that the words were tumbling out so you forced yourself to slow down. “Yuta. And he told everyone and now everyone knows. Or they think they know even though there’s absolutely nothing to know. As you and I know.”

He took it in for a moment then nodded slowly. “And when you say everyone...?”

“I mean everyone.” You pointed in the direction of his office. “Those people? They know. Other people in this building? They know. “Panda” on reception? He absolutely knows. Gossip in this industry is the worst. They all think I am dating hot shot Satoru Gojo.”

“I see.” He said, seeming strangely unbothered by this clusterfuck. It should have calmed you down but it only had the effect of driving your panic up a notch.

“I am sorry this happened. So sorry. This is all my fault.” You dragged a hand down your face. “But I didn’t think that…I understand why Maki would tell Yuta—I mean, getting those two together was the whole point of this stupid charade—but…why would Yuta tell anyone?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he?”

You looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Excuse my rudeness but, an upcoming band member dating an already established and—well—famous artist seems like an interesting piece of information to share.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that interesting. Why would people be interested?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Someone told me that ‘Gossip in this industry is the wor—’”

“Okay, okay. Point taken.” You took a deep breath and started pacing. Trying to ignore the way he was studying you, how relaxed he looked. Arms folded in his chest while leaning against the conference table. He was not supposed to be calm. He was supposed to be incensed. He was a known dick with a reputation for arrogance—the idea of people thinking he was dating a nobody should be mortifying to him. The burden of freaking out should not be falling on you alone.

“This is—we need to do something, of course. We need to tell people that it’s not true. That we made it all up. Except they’ll think that I’m crazy. And maybe that you are too, so we have to come up with some other story. Yes, okay, we need to tell people we’re not together anymore—”

“And what will Maki and what’s-his-face do?”

You stopped pacing. “Huh?”

“Wont your friends feel bad about dating if they think we’re not together? Or that you lied to them?”

You hadn’t thought of that. “I—Maybe. Maybe but—“

It was true that Maki had seemed happy. Maybe she had already invited Yuta to accompany her to that movie festival—possibly right after telling him about you and Gojo, damn her. But this is exactly what you had wanted.

“Are you going to tell the truth?”

You let out a panicked sound. “I can’t. Not now.” God why did you even agree to date Yuta? You weren’t even that into him. Yeah, he was cute but not worth any of this. “Maybe we tell people that I broke up with you?”

“That’s very flattering,” He deadpanned. You couldn’t quite figure out if he was joking.

“Fine. We can say that you broke up with me.”

“Because that sounds credible,” he said dryly. Almost below his breath. You weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly and hand no idea what he might mean, but you were starting to feel very upset. Fine, you had been the one to kiss him first—God, you’d kissed Satoru Gojo; this was your life; there’s were your choices—but his actions in the kitchen the day before surely hadn’t helped matters. He could at least display some concern. There was no way he was okay with everyone believing he was dating some random girl who’s hardly even a significant or well known member of the band that she’s in because she’s just a guitarist.

“What if we tell people it was a mutual breakup?”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

You perked up. “Really? Great, then! We’ll—”

“We could ask Panda to add it to the company’s newsletter.”

“What?”

“Or do you think a public announcement before Monday briefings would be better?”

“No. No, it’s—”

“Maybe we should ask IT to put it on the front page of the website. That way people would know—”

“Okay, okay, fine! I get it.”

He looked at you evenly for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was reasonable in a way you would have never expected of Satoru “ass” Gojo. “If what bothers you is that people are talking about you dating me, the damage is done, I’m afraid. Telling everyone that we broke up will not undo that fact they think we dated.”

Your shoulders slumped. You hated that he was right. “Okay, then. If you have any ideas on how to fix this mess, by all means, I’m open to—”

“You could let them go on thinking it.”

For a moment you thought you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?!”

“You can let people go on thinking that we’re dating. It solves your problem with your friend and what’s-his-name, and you don’t have much to lose since it’s sounds like from a…reputation standpoint” —he said the word reputation rolling his eyes a little, as if the concept of caring about what others think was the dumbest thing ever—“things cannot get much worse for you.”

This was…out of everything…in your life, you had never, never…

“What?” You asked again, feebly.

He shrugged. “Seems like a win-win to me.”

It so did not. To you? It seemed like a lose-lose, and then lose again, and then lose some more type of situation. It seemed insane.

“You mean…forever?” You thought your voice came out whiny, but it was possible that was an effect of the blood pointing in your head.

“That sounds excessive. Maybe until your friends are not dating anymore? Or until they are more settled? I don’t know. Whatever works, I guess.” He was serious about this. He was not joking.

“Are you not…” you had no idea how to ask it. “Married or something?” You were sure you’d seen something in the news about him dating. He had a fantastic job; tall with brilliantly white hair, clearly smart, even attractive looking. He was built. Yeah he was a moody dick but some women wouldn’t mind it. Some women might even like it.

He shrugged. “My wife and the twins won’t mind it.”

Oh shit.

You felt heat was over you. Heat rose to your cheeks and then you almost died of shame, because—God, you had forced a married man, a father, to kiss you. His wife was probably crying into her pillow. His kids would probably grow up with horrible daddy issues and become serial killers.

“I…Oh my God. I didn’t—I am so sorry”

“Just kidding.”

“I really had no idea that you—”

“Y/N. I was joking. I’m not married. No kids.”

A waved of relief crashed into you. Followed by just as much anger. “Gojo, this is not something to joke—“

“You really need to start calling me Satoru. Since we’ve been reportedly dating for a while.”

You exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why would you even—what would you get out of this?”

“Out of what?”

“Pretending to date me. Why do you care? What’s in it for you” Gojo—Satoru—opened his mouth, and for a moment you had the impression that he was going to say something important. But then he averted his gaze. All that came out was “it would help you out.” He hesitated for a moment. “And I have my own reasons.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What reasons?”

“Reasons.”

“If it’s criminal, I’d rather not be involved.”

He smiled a bit. “It’s not.”

“If you don’t roll me, I’ll have no choice but to assume it’s kidnapping. Or arson. Or embezzlement.”

He seemed preoccupied for a moment, fingertips drumming against his biceps. It considerably strained his shirt. “If I tell you, it cannot leave this room.”

“I think we can both agree that nothing that has happened in this room should ever leave.”

“Good point.” He conceded. He paused. Sighed. Chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second. Sighed again. “Okay.” He finally said, sounding like a man who knew that he was going to regret speaking the second he opened his mouth. “I’m considered a flight risk.”

“Flight risk?” God, he was a felon on parole. A jury of his peers had convicted him for crime. He’d probably thrown a PC at someone for messing up a brand offer. “So it is something criminal.”

“What? No. The company suspects I’m making plans to move to our competitors since they’re going much much better than we are with new recruits and popularity. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but they’ve started talking about dropping me before I drop them.”

“Oh.” Not what you’d thought. Not at all. “Can they?”

“Yes. Well, as “valuable” of a client I am to them, when this contract ends they can terminate me and not offer me a new one. But I don’t plan on moving as I’d do just as well without a record company helping me. They’re just a convenience.”

“But if it’s just a convenience—”

“I never said it was a bad one.” He said levelly. “I have deadlines to meet that are beyond my contract. Additionally, I’ve invested more than a little bit of money in this company.”

“Oh.” Come to think of it, you had been hearing scuttlebutt about Gojo being recruited with the company’s competitors since you first made a record deal here. You’d even heard he’s be quitting all together occasionally. “Why do they think that? And why now?”

“A number of reasons. The most relevant is that a few months ago they sent me an offer—a very very large offer—but they have been trying to recruit me for months and I’m planning to do a brand that they’re working close in partnership with. Our company sees this as a threat that I’m going to transfer.” He hesitated before continuing. “More generally, I have been made aware that the…optics are that I have not made any large commitments and could up and leave to go anywhere in the world at any moment.”

“Large commitments?”

“My contract finishes this year, I have no extended family in the area. No wife. No kids. I’m currently renting—I’d have to buy a house just to convince them I don’t plan on leaving.” He was clearly irritated. “If I was in a relationship that would really help.”

Okay. That made sense. But. “Have you considered getting a real girlfriend?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Have you considered getting a real date?”

“Touché”

You fell silent and studied him for a few moments, letting him study you in return. Funny how you used to be scared of him. Now he was the only person in the world who knew about your worst fuckup ever, it was hard to feel intimidated—even harder, after discovering that he was the type of person who’d be desperate enough to date someone to prove to the company he wasn’t leaving. You were sure that you would do the exact same to finally achieve your dream, which made Satoru feel oddly…relatable. And if he was relatable you could go ahead and fake-date him, right?

No. Yes. No. What? You were crazy for even considering this. You had to be certifiably mental. And here you found yourself saying “it would be complicated.”

“What would be?”

“To pretend that we’re dating.”

“Really? It would be complicated to make people think we’re dating?”

Oh, he was impossible. “Okay, I see your point. But it would be hard to do so convincingly for a prolonged period.”

He shrugged. “We’ll be fine, as long as we say hi to each other in passing and you don’t call me Gojo.”

“I don’t think people who are dating just…say hi to each other.”

“What do people who are dating do?”

If

It beat you. You had gone on maybe seven total dates in your whole life, including the ones with Yuta, and they had ranged from moderately boring to anxiety inducing and horrifying (mostly when a guy had monologued about his grandmothers hip replacement in horrifying detail). You would have loved someone in your life, but you doubted it was in store for you. Maybe you were unloveable. Maybe spending so many years alone had warped you in some fundamental way and that was why you seemed to be unable to develop a true romantic connection, or even the type of attraction you often hear others talk about. In the end it really didn’t matter. Being in the public eye and dating went poorly together, which was probably why Satoru Gojo, hot shot singer who had women swooning over him, was standing here at his big adult age asking you what people do on dates.

Band freaks, ladies and gentlemen.

“Um…things. Stuff.” You racked your brain. “People go out and do activities together. Like apple picking or those Paint and Sip things.” Which are idiotic, you thought.

“Which are idiotic.” Clyde said, gesturing dismissively with his hand. “You could just go to Maki and tell her we went out and painted a Monet. Sounds like she’d take care of letting everyone else know.”

“Okay first of all, it was Yuta, let’s agree to blame Yuta. And it’s more than that.” You insisted. “People who date, they—they talk. A lot. More than just greeting in the hallway. They know each others favourite colours and where they were born and they…hold hands. They kiss.”

Gojo pursed his lips together as if to suppress a smile. “We could never do that.”

A fresh wave of mortification crashed into you. “I am sorry about the kiss. Really, I didn’t think, and—”

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

He did seem uncharacteristically indifferent to the situation, especially for a guy who freaks out when someone gets something minor wrong. No, he wasn’t indifferent. He was amused.

You cocked your head. “Are you enjoying this?”

“‘Enjoying’ is probably not the right word but you have to admit this is quite entertaining.”

You had no idea what he was talking about. There was nothing entertaining about the fact that you had randomly kissed him because he was the only person around at that time, as a consequence of that tremendously idiotic action, everyone thought that you were dating a guy you’d met exactly twice before today—

You burst intro laughter and folded into yourself before your train of thought was even over, overwhelmed by the sheer improbability of the situation. This was your life. These were the results of your actions. When you could finally breath again, your stomach hurt and you had to wipe your eyes. “This is the worst”

He was smiling, staring at you with a strange light in his eyes. And would you look at that, Satoru Gojo had dimples. Cute ones. “Yep.”

“And it’s all my fault.”

“Pretty much. I kind of yanked Maki’s chain yesterday, but, yeah. I’d say that it’s mostly your fault.”

Fake dating. You and Satoru Gojo would have to be lunatic. “Wouldn’t it be a problem publicity wise if we aren’t seen together?”

He tilted his head, going serious. “No. As long as no one who knows tells anyone and we don’t do public outings where press could see us and leak it I see no issue. I can also ask around with the publicity manager.”

It was an epically bad idea. The worst idea ever entertained in the epically bad history of bad ideas. Except that it would solve this current problem of yours, as well as some of Satorus, in exchange for saying hi to him once a week and making an effort not to call him Gojo. It seemed like a pretty good deal.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course.” He said calmly. Reassuringly.

You hadn’t thought he’d be like this. After hearing all the horror stories. Seeing him walking around with that perpetual frown of his. You really hadn’t thought that he’d be like this. Even though you didn’t quite know what this even meant.

“And than you I guess for offering. Satoru.” You added the last word like an afterthought. Trying it out on your lips. It felt weird but right.

After a long pause, he nodded. “No problem. Y/N.”

TAGLIST(26/50): @bbmsxlene @lunavelha @satoryaa @tranzumaki @k-kkiana @luvkvni @lysaray @kalulakunundrum @arysbruv @r4veeen @stillnotherapy @catobsessedlady @colortheoryrocks @minzxec @dazqa @packsvlog @luvvmae @simplysm1le @mintfyi @fushism @angstmuncher @fackeraccount @astro-stars @lavender-hvze @miizuzu @rayrayline @kanaojacksonofc

AN

This hoe is long

IM STILL ON HOLIDAY but im uploading this to appease yall bc i feel bad 🔥🔥😕

© valentoru all rights reserved- do not publish my work on other platforms, plagiarise or translate.

[cam-ulu29]

Lost is halfway done (probably:), so it’s time to post the first chapter! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57150190

Chapter 1: Queen

Dalinar knelt, his knees instantly soaked in blood.

“Please,” he begged, tears in his eyes. “Lieutenant Teft. Do you know what happened to my wife?”

He couldn’t bear to look at Navani’s mutilated body. Two soldiers were trying to load her on a stretcher respectfully, but it was difficult with half her intestines hanging out. One eye was completely gone, the cartilage around it caved in from repeated blows.

Teft’s hand spasmed in Dalinar’s grip. He didn’t look much better. Ash-flaked eyes rolled lethargically, pink with burst blood vessels. Dalinar offered him Stormlight again, but he didn’t take it. Highmarshal Kaladin, laying with his head in his lieutenant’s lap, hadn’t breathed it in either, though he was alive. The same strange ash dotted his face, and orange and red blood soaked him so completely he was almost unrecognizable. Dalinar had sent for Edgedancers from the Azish front when the ones in Urithiru proved…unstable.

“Please, Lieutenant. I must know.”

Teft’s head lolled back against the crystal pillar. The burned, bleeding areas around his eyes and mouth soothed slightly where it came in contact with the glowing pillar, but he didn’t look long to live. Dalinar gripped his hand tighter, trying to will enough life into him to answer.

“…Navani?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. Did you see what happened?” Storms, he wasn’t the Blackthorn anymore. He’d sworn to do better. And he would.

But he had to know.

“That bitch…”

Dalinar stilled, heart going cold.

“That storming bitch,” Teft coughed, “got what was coming to her. That…Damnation-spawned whore…”

Teft’s hand slipped from his grasp. The crystal pillar pulsed softly. The soldiers had carried away Navani’s body, and not yet returned for the many, many others.

Dalinar hissed, “What in Damnation is wrong with you, man? How dare you speak about her like that?”

“She did this to us. All this, she…traitor.” Teft gasped for air, unable to continue but eyes bleeding hatred as clearly as the tears dripping on Dalinar’s cheeks.

The soldiers returned then with a few surgeons. They’d keep the two Windrunners alive until Radiant healers could be found or they started breathing in Stormlight again. Dalinar moved back to give them space. Subconsciously, he wiped the hand that had touched Teft on his uniform coat. How dare that man say such things about his Queen? His mind must have cracked in the stress. Dalinar couldn’t fault him that. Even the strongest soldiers had been known to break, and the occupation of Urithiru, as well as…whatever they had done to lift it must have been an incredible pressure. When the Highmarshal woke, he’d get the truth of the matter.

The surgeons lifted Kaladin onto a white stretcher. His father, softly weeping, wiped blood from a long, shallow cut on his neck, the least of his wounds. Strangely, the man had a similitude of his son’s shash brand painted on his forehead, as did several others. Dalinar turned to follow them, and almost tripped.

He looked down, frowning. What in Damnation…

The offending object was a collar, broken in half. Attached to the collar was about three feet of thin chain, leading to a similarly broken-open bracelet. Dalinar bent to pick it up. As he lifted it from the floor, the orange-and-red gore that covered the entire floor flowed off the black metal, leaving it perfectly clean. It was like no metal he had ever seen before. It seemed to glow in his hands, a faint light left behind wherever he touched it. He turned it over in his hands, trying to determine where it could have come from. Finally he tossed it to Jevar, a newly promoted Captain from the Azish front.

“Take this to Navani’s scholars.” Saying her name hurt. Thinking about her hurt. Twice now, he had abandoned his wife to die in a doomed city. “See what they can make of it.” “No,” Teft groaned. “Caballein misain ye!” He trailed off into gibberish.

Dalinar ignored him, resting his hand on Kaladin’s head. Wake up, son.

I’m sorry, but I still need you. The world still needs you.

currently writing a wheel of time/stormlight fic. Probably be about two weeks before it’s ready tho.

[lantsovsupremacist]

nikolai lantsov request of exes to enemies to lovers with angst and fluff (happy ending pls)

blondie writes for nikolai lantsov and him alone. i simply translate! 😉

part 1/2 🧍‍♀️you get happiness later!

nikolai lantsov: sad beautiful tragic

time is taking it’s sweet time erasing you, and you got your demons and darling they all look like me.

cause we had a beautiful magic love there; what a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair.

with footsteps pounding down the stone staircase, you locked your eyes beneath you to avoid falling victim to one of the chipped steps. the tears collecting at the forefront of your irises did little to mitigate the matter. the castle still confused you but as long as you could flee from wherever he was, you would manage. for every passageway you put between yourself and the place you left him you breathed a little deeper.

he did not call after you.

he did not care to fight for you.

he did not want you to come back.

perhaps, you would not have acted any differently, but his actions—or lack there of—still stung immensely. it took no longer than a blink of an eye for him to break your heart. the strong hands that had once held you tore it into two without leaving behind a shred of remorse.

you felt overwhelmed and dizzy. you started to hold your breath in an attempt to delay the sobs smoldering in your throat. any more oxygen and they would surely be set ablaze.

when the door finally closed behind you and things quieted, you allowed yourself to tolerate the tears. how unfortunate it was that you fell apart behind four unfamiliar walls. the room was more of a formality than anything else, given you had not spent a night apart from nikolai. that would all change now, of course.

it had been easy to fool around with sturmhond. you did not have to care if every word he spoke was a lie. you were not responsible for either his feelings or your own. you entertained each other for a time.

a knock came at the door. with your fingertips gripped across the back of a chair, you looked up into the mirror ahead of you. puffy eyes hanging above red and splotchy cheeks reflected back.

“go away.”

ignoring your command, the door swung open.

genya shuffled inside, hands behind her back. you started to cry again. it was not nikolai. your breathing grew despairingly shallow. your mind wanted to forget nikolai, but your heart was crumbling without his other half to support it.

“oh,” she whispered, immediately beginning to wring her hands at her sides, “oh, honey.”

your chest battled gravity as it rose up and down repeatedly, “he doesn’t want me anymore.”

genya sunk down on her knees alongside you, bringing a quick arm around your shoulder. she brought your hair behind you shoulders and wiped the tears that had already fell. with furrowed eyebrows, she brought a hand to your wrist. stroking her finger over your pulse point, you began to find yourself relaxing your breathing. she kissed the top of your head, a spot where a crown might have one day rested.

“nikolai is foolish and confused,” genya comforted you, “i think he wants you more than anything else, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do.” a sad smile lined her features, exposing a dimple just beneath one of her scars.

“so many people want him,” you began, rising from the ground with a sniffle, “the entirety of ravka depends on him, and i’m just me.”

“i happen to believe he’ll disagree,” she offered, “i know i certainly do.”

genya sighed, tugging on your elbow with a nod to the door. you tried to dig your heels into the floor, but she guided you elsewhere. you allowed her to carry you forward.

“don’t take me to him,” you hiccuped, “please, genya.”

“no,” she refuted, “you’re not leaving it like this.”

“he did,” you whimpered, finally tugging your hand out of her grasp, “why shouldn’t i?”

“because you either have to let him keep your heart or make him give the other half back.” her words were even and carefully considered.

—

genya disregarded the royal guards. you followed behind her, sparing them a single glance. they settled back into place. you almost laughed. you had become such a permanent fixture of nikolai’s life that his guards relented to genya barging in because of your presence.

nikolai was slouched in a chair, appearing rather exhausted. his hair hung a mess over his eyes. you bit your lip at the sight of his leg bouncing restlessly.

genya sent him a look more threatening than you would have ever been able to accomplish in your current state. he caught himself before he could roll his eyes or argue, unwilling to sacrifice a member of the triumvirate. you supposed he could simply justify your loss as collateral damage.

your eyes trailed genya’s form until she departed entirely from your view. only then, did you dare take nikolai in fully. he looked about as awful as he had made you feel.

“you didn’t come after me,” you phrased your words as a question, begging him to answer.

he shifted, leaning back in his chair to look up at you, “i didn’t want to.” it left you looking down at him.

you breathed out in disbelief, shaking your head at his tone. he knew exactly what he was doing to you. you wanted to rip your heart away from him. maybe if you cut away the remaining strings, he would not be able to control you like he did now.

“what if i wanted you to?” your voice increased an octave, clattering against the walls as an echo.

a scoff left his mouth as he resigned to engage in the breakdown of another fight, “it wouldn’t have mattered. you wouldn’t have listened to me.” before you could respond, he spoke up again, “i don’t have to follow after you.”

you shifted your gaze to the glass of water on his desk. no matter the desperation building in your chest, you wanted to feel angry, instead. it was easier to manage. so, you lashed out at him. building the water pressure in the lone glass, you watched it shatter on his desk and saturate the paperwork.

“missed me,” he mumbled wearily.

feeling like a child, you stomped your foot and sent the water to splash against his face. it dripped past his lips—a sight you chose to ignore, lest it elicit a response rather inappropriate for the current circumstances. they caught in a smile as he laughed bitterly, bringing his hands across his mouth.

“i told you i would marry you,” nikolai pressed onward carelessly, running a hand through his hair as if to dismiss your actions, “certainly not my fault you said no, now is it?”

“because it sounded like something you’d resigned to accept! something that had to be done!” the words tore through your throat painfully, “it should be a privilege. it should be love.”

you detected the exact moment he comprehended the final line. he straightened and swallowed harshly. nikolai lantsov looked inexplicably afraid.

“it should be love?” he questioned quietly. now, he was angry and afraid. you knew it to be a fragile but dangerous combination.

“you assume marriage is enough for me,” your voice grew louder, daring him to fight, “marriage won’t make you love me again, nikolai lantsov.”

“you’re putting words in my mouth!” the fervor in his voice did not go unnoticed.

“someone has to,” a moment of silence passed, “you haven’t talked to me in weeks,” you clung to a whisper, “not really.”

you watched his eyes carry themselves across the room. you cursed your heart for hoping they would find land in you. they kept searching elsewhere, drifting further out to sea.

“again?” his voice was broken.

“what?” you questioned, clearing your throat as the sudden shame washed over you for barging in on the king.

“you said marriage wouldn’t make you love me again,” he dared a step closer, “have you stopped loving me?”

you took a trembling step back from him with your heart beating erratically inside your chest. you could not find the control to move your fingers, not even to curl them into reluctant fists. suddenly, everything felt heavy, and you did not want to carry the weight alone.

“i don’t know, nikolai,” you answered somewhat truthfully, unable to gather an honest answer.

“i suppose that’s fair,” he relented.

“i suppose it is,” you whispered with a frown.

you turned to leave after a moment, taking his soundless stance as an indication of retreat.

“you broke my heart,” nikolai realized aloud, hands deep in his pockets as he stared at you.

“yeah well,” he titled his head at you, “you broke mine first,” you spoke coldly, hardening yourself to ice against his warm body.

taking a step away from him, you gasped as his hand found your jaw. although his grip was firm, you refused to melt at his feet. you did not belong to the whim’s of nikolai lantsov’s heart any longer.

“i’m leaving you, nikolai,” you stuttered out as you backed away, gasping at the shiver in your chest enacted by his touch.

his jaw tightened, “you can’t.” his voice was a ghost of a severe whisper, and you knew it would haunt you forever.

“i have to,” you spoke clearly.

“i-,” he fumbled fervently for any semblance of conviction or persuasion, “you can’t leave me.” he had ran out of personas to pull you in with.

“i already have,” you granted him a final look out of pity before you left his room behind and with it, his wavering silhouette.

[0risha]

RECOGNITION

series m.list

PAIRING : sukuna x fem!reader

SUMMARY : when an exchange student comes to jujutsu tech, Itadori is set on finding out why the King of curses is so interested in you.

TAGS : fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, jjk anime spoilers, some curse words, reader is described as a black female

NOTES : i’ve read a couple of works where sukuna meets his reincarnated lover so I wanted to try it out too, hope you enjoy. was supposed to make progress with my wips but I was in a sukuna mood. (◕ᴗ◕✿)

Sukuna feels your presence before he sees you. It’s one of those cliché moments where time puts its hand up to signal a standstill. Yuuji can feel it too when you pass by, your long braids swishing with each step.

He’s sure that he’s never seen you before but his shared body buzzes in remembrance. All the while, his emotions are overtaken by the unbridled feeling of wanting. 

After that, Itadori never took it upon himself to ask Sukuna about the matter because the curse didn’t seem to want to.

Sukuna had become more and more suppressed, his usual pop-ups were a rare occurrence, even when Megumi was around. However, for the whole month you’d been at Jujutsu Tech, the King of curses had been intent on observing from his throne of woven carcasses, body hunched over to just watch.

You’re an exchange student, Itadori recalls Gojo’s past conversation about a new second-year that would be coming from the states. You’re strong — at first, Itadori couldn’t help but think that this revelation was the reason for Sukuna’s interest —your cursed energy being perfect sediment for close combat and dealing precise blows, all the same, Itadori could feel a grappling hook of something that seemed to be festering.

It’s dark and brooding and it stirs every time you come into contact with him. And Yuuji thinks he might go crazy because he wants to know your connection with Sukuna and it’s not like he can ask you because your aura screams — unapproachable.

His chance comes when all the first-years are assigned to a mission, you're there for extra measure. Gojo’s shaman instincts telling him that this mission was far too exceeding for him, Nobara, and Megumi.

Though just as Gojo predicted, it goes terribly wrong and Itadori keels over with an empty hollow where his heart should be.

His last thoughts are consumed with a screeching mantra of his late grandfather’s words. In the crevice of his flickering mind, they're big bold letters that drip with poisoned regret.

Before his vision goes black, the last thing he sees is a heart-broken Megumi and your face which is flooded with guilt.

When Itadori comes face to face with the King of curses, the stench of rotting death overpowering his senses, he mulls over the terms laid out by Sukuna to come back, alive.

To be reunited with his friends and become some type of savior —sukuna's words, not his— he'd give up the reigns of his body so Sukuna could talk to you whenever he chose.

For the exchange of his life, the rules weren’t bad, a part of him knows that this selfish override could cause problems for you in the future, but he still agrees.

When he wakes up to a pure white ceiling and the smell of bleach he doesn’t expect to see you towering over him. Moving up to a sitting position, his cheeks nearly bleed red because he’s naked. His eyes frantically flit over to Gojo who’s sitting in the corner of the room, watching the exchange. The white-haired sorcerer shrugs in a ridiculed manner —silently telling Itadori that it wasn’t his problem.

“You called me,” your voice filters through the bright room. His eyebrows crinkle in confusion. Sukuna must've did something.

When his eyes flit back to you, he’s met with your monotone expression, your cascade of braids framing your face. And for the third time in his life, he’s scared. 

Your cursed energy, which for your level should leave little to no residual, is flaring with onyx undertones. Its sharpened jaws nearing closer and closer to Itadori in a beckoning manner. He's not sure why it's visible in the first place.

Gojo stays silent.

Brat, let me out. Sukuna, for the first time in weeks, pops up with a wide mouth on the palm of his hand. Without a second thought, Itadori allows him. 

Whilst wading in his domain of subconsciousness, he watches the exchange. Your expression stays the same as you study Sukuna’s marked face. 

“So hostile,” Sukuna bares, his powerful aura sifting through the room. You roll your eyes and crack a smile. Seamlessly ignoring the other man in the room— who you know Sukuna has a grudge with. 

“Am I not supposed to be?” you cross your arms and ask. “Being friendly would get me in trouble.”

“You remember me?” The King of curses cuts straight to the point, the question being so unexpected that Gojo shuffles in his seat, his spine rigid with anticipation. 

You nod stiffly. "I didn’t at first, not fully at least, but after coming into contact a few times, yeah.”

“It’s a shame I don’t have control over this body,” Sukuna presses a palm to your cheek, no doubt a loving caress. His deep baritone voice causing your skin to erupt into a turnpike for goosebumps to situate. “Do you remember how we parted last?”

“A sorcerer killed me or something,” you scratch the back of your neck under his intense stare. “Right through here,” you confess, pointing to the middle of your sternum.

“And you’ve become one?” Sukuna quirks an eyebrow, shoulders stiff with anger. 

“I didn’t even know I knew you until a month ago, calm down,” you wave in dismissal. Itadori takes note in the way Sukuna visibly relaxes, your words washing him in a bucket of warmth. “Is that all? I’ve got a mission in thirty minutes.” 

“I’m coming with you.” Sukuna jumps off the steel table, his bare feet touching the cool ground. You turn your eyes away from the bottom half of his body, ears growing hot in embarrassment.

“Eh? Is that allowed?” You turn to Gojo who’s still analyzing the situation beforehand and he shrugs with complacency. “Don’t let anyone see him,” Gojo warns, his stare serious even under his blindfold. You're not exactly sure what Gojo's thinking but you grasp the opportunity.

When you leave the autopsy room with a naked Sukuna by your side, careful to avoid any areas where Sukuna’s aura might be felt, you make it to Itadori’s dorm.

“Here.” You throw him Yuuji’s formal uniform and a pair of brown boots you find in the corner of his room. “I’m not wearing this,” Sukuna interjects.

“Huh?” Your upper lip curls up in confusion. “Then you’re not coming with me.” You turn to leave but he catches your arm in a tight grip.

“Fine, since you’re so damn adamant.” He releases his grip on your arm to slip into Yuuji’s clothes, when he finishes he turns to you with a glare.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his tattooed cheek.

Internally, Itadori’s too bewildered to tease the curse. In all of his time spent with Sukuna in his body, he’s never seen the King of curses voluntarily listen to somebody else’s demands. The murky water he stands in ripples as he sits to observe everything that’s transpiring. 

When you both reach the site you were assigned to, you sigh in annoyance. “What is it?” Sukuna asks, hands in pockets as he studies your face.

“I was hoping to have an easy day, they’re not dangerous or anything but there’s more than a dozen in there.” You point to the abandoned building, its steel beams bending with age.

“I’ll exorcise them for you.”  

This is going completely against this guy’s morals, Yuuji thinks. 

Your eyebrows fly to your forehead as you grow giddy with happiness. “Really?” You exclaim clambering up to wrap him in a hug.

“If you don’t let go, I won’t.” He grumbles, head in your neck while inhaling your sweet scent. 

“Okayyy,” you inhale, trailing off, Sukuna not too far behind. 

The exorcism is completed in fifteen seconds, tops. You stare in amazement at his lithe movements. His sharp fingers extinguishing cores with precise stabs— the same way he did his vessel. When he’s done he turns to you with an eyebrow raised, his hands wet with unspoken substance. You turn away with a humph. 

“Was it not fast enough?” He walks towards you, concern written all over his expression.

“It was too fast,” you proclaim.

“Huh?” 

“You’re a show-off,” you turn to exit the building, your braids whizzing past his face. You hear his roaring laughter behind you as you make it outside.

The smell of freshly churned earth enters your nostrils as you walk down a fenced sidewalk with bent daffodils. “Where are we going?”

“A ramen shop.” His gaze flicks over to study your face which is softened with what seems to be tranquility. His heart tides over with pride once he realizes that you feel content with him, a 1000-year-old curse.

However, he knows it’s the result of your memories that tie in with his; shared massacres and intertwined fates. Multiple restarts of what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of mingled hearts. But this time jump was different than the others. 

You being a sorcerer is not the only obstacle, at all.

“Sukuna? Hey– you’re spacing out.” You wave a hand in front of his face to grab his attention. 

“We’re here.” He looks up to see a small ramen shop, its logo old with age. As he enters the shop, he somehow finds contentment in being in a place that you like. 

—

“You know you’re probably attracting sorcerers and curses alike as we speak?” You inquire, grabbing your ramen bowl from the waiter who nervously glances at Sukuna. His tattooed face also attracting unwanted attention. 

“Mhm, I’ll just kill them if they interfere.” You whip your head to turn to the waiter who you’re relieved to see, had already left.

“I knew you’d say that,” you stuff your face with a handful of steaming noodles. 

“Sukuna?”

“Mhm?” 

“What’s gonna happen between us?” You flick your index finger back and forth. “It’s not like the other times, I’m a dedicated sorcerer.”

“So?” 

“You’re the King of curses, I’m a sorcerer.” You repeat, dropping your wooden chopsticks to place your head on your propped fist. 

“Already made a deal with the brat, I can talk to you whenever and wherever I want,” he pulls his face closer to yours. 

“Yeah? What happens when they execute Itadori?” You curl your hands into balled fists, an unfamiliar emotion welling up in your throat. Somehow, it doesn't fit. It crosses your veins in a parasitic manner and your eyes glaze over.

“I’ll just come back.” He states matter of factly, voice coated with arrogance.

“You promise?” You whisper, holding out your pinky finger. You nearly scoff at your own action.

Ignoring the finger you bare out, he presses his lips against yours. It’s the same as he can remember, centuries ago. His body elates with a hum of electricity. And it's as if his body's creating a second space of void in which he feels his every sense being sharpened; the smooth curve of your full lips and the salty taste of previous ramen.

But before the kiss can go any further, you're pulling back.

“That was uh…” You blink once, twice, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. When you look back to Sukuna, you instead are met with Itadori’s clear face.

“The hell are you doing, brat?” Sukuna bares his teeth on the right side of Itadori’s cheek. ”I- I’m sorry just got a little uh.. flustered.” 

“The fuck are you getting flustered for?” Sukuna growls. 

“I- uh..” 

“It’s okay Yuuji, you can switch again another time,” you sympathize with the boy. His cheeks are coated in red.

“It’s getting late, eat some ramen so we can go.” You chuckle. Itadori nods as his hand reaches towards a pair of chopsticks.

“Touch my ramen and I’ll kill you again, you damn brat.”

back to m.list

[pwarkluv]

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words 

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes. 

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. 

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went. 

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside. 

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least. 

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit. 

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life. 

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways. 

he just wanted to be loved. 

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood. 

jisung wanted that, craved that. 

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt. 

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs. 

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

-

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home. 

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in. 

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind. 

-

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself. 

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option. 

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty. 

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard. 

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do. 

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him. 

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

-

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.  what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up. 

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on. 

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind. 

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing. 

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window. 

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room. 

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention. 

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along. 

[happilyelectronicstarfish]

Staring Life In Hawkins - Chapter 3

Day 3 of knowing Eddie and you are starting school

Pairing - Eddie Munson x (f) reader

Warning - 18+, strong language, passion

Word Count - 2k

Chapter 3

I wake up in a sweat. Another nightmare about my mom. Nearly a year on and I just can’t shake this grief. 

I roll over and check the clock. Shit it’s past 7:15am. I need to get up and get ready for school. 

I finish showering, wrap a towel around me and head back towards my room. There is no evidence my dad has been home at all. As I’m crossing the living room there is a knock at the door. Without even hesitating, forgetting I am dripping wet from my shower, I answer the door. 

Shit. There standing in front of me, eyes wide, mouth open, stands Eddie. Not who I was expecting. He’s earlier than I thought. “Hi, erm, sorry!” I say.

“No Princess, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back.” He turns to leave. I don’t want him to leave. 

“No! Wait.” Did that sound too eager? “I mean, you might as well come in and wait for me, I won’t be long. Promise” I wince at how desperate I sound. 

Eddie smiles at me and hops through the front door, and flops down on the couch, arms stretched across the back of it. “I’ll make myself comfy.” 

I head towards my room, now very aware that all I have on is a towel and nothing else. I can feel the heat spread through my body again. Eddie is in my trailer. I’m not wearing anything. This excites me far too much. Then I remember, my door is broken and doesn’t close all the way. Swollen at the hinges from the damp. Where Eddie is sitting, he’s going to be able to see through my door if he turns his head to the left. As long as I don’t talk to him while I’m in here, he won't look right? Or do I want him to look?

Just as I drop my towel, Eddie sparks up conversation. Shit. Has he realised that the door is open? Just keep getting dressed and don't draw attention to it. Keep you back to the door. Don’t make this awkward. 

“So, you excited for your first day at Hawkins High Y/N?” Eddie shouts from the living room. 

“I would say more nervous than excited. We’ll see what I’m like at the end of the day.” I answer. 

“You’ll be fi…..” He trails off. Shit. Has he noticed. He must of. 

I finish getting dressed and walk back into the living room, ready to go. 

I look at Eddie. He’s staring off in the distance. I’m not sure what he’s thinking about but he definitely looks deep in thought. One of the throw cushions is on his lap. Is he ok? 

“Err you ok? Ready to go?” I ask.

Eddie snaps out of his trance. Lifts the cushion, looks down at his lap, blushes and replies “Yup, all good now I think.”

We pull up to school. There are all sorts of kids already making their way in. The music from the van is so loud, a lot of them stop and look. Not what I needed. Don’t need to draw attention to myself on the first day. Eddie jumps out of the van, runs round and opens the passenger door for me. He’s such a gentleman. 

A group of jocks shout at Eddie. “MUNSON, YOU GOT YOURSELF A FREAK GIRLFRIEND OVER THE SUMMER?” I blush. 

Eddie grins at them and shouts back. “Shut up Jason. You wouldn’t be able to find anyone as close to perfection as Y/N.” I blush more. Eddie turns back to me. “Sorry about that sweetheart. Unfortunately, wherever you go, jocks are all the same. Hope I didn’t embarrass you. I mean, we aren’t dating but it sure shuts him up.” A paign of hurt crosses through my heart. No we aren’t dating, we’ve only known each other for 3 days but ouch.  Hope he’s not embarrassed by me or written me off completely. What if he’s just this sweet to all girls? Am I imagining this chemistry? 

“Meet me at lunch, yeah? I have some people I want you to meet.” He smiles at me, gives me a hug and without realising until he’s gone, he’s given me a kiss on the cheek. Did that just happen? 

It felt like a lifetime for the bell to go for lunch. I just wanted to see Eddie. Everyone in my last class seemed to be whispering behind my back. I hated being the new kid. I stuck out like a sore thumb. 

I basically ran to the canteen, grabbed some food and stood at the side trying to spot Eddie in the busy crowd.

He must have spotted me first. He jumped up on the table. Shouted across the hall. Everyone was staring. He looked at me, smiled. Raised his fingers to his head to make devil horns and stuck his tongue out. I laughed and felt relieved that he had been looking out for me. 

“SIT DOWN FREAK.” Shouted Jason. Eddie just looked at him, bit his bottom lip and stuck up his middle finger.

I quickly made my way over to where Eddie and his gang were sitting. 

“Everyone, I would like to introduce Y/N” I looked at them and waved. At the table sat Gareth, Big Pete, Jeff, Dustin & Mike. 

“Oh is she that girl in the gas station you kept going on about Saturday night?” Asked Dustin. 

Eddie shot Dustin a look that could kill. His eyes wide, nostrils flared. “Shut up Dusty Bun”.

“Dusty Bun?” I questioned. 

“It’s what his girlfriend Suzie calls him” Mike chuckles. 

I laugh as well. “It’s cute. I’d love to meet her.” 

At this, Dustin looks a bit sad. “Maybe one day, she lives in Salt Lake City. We met at camp.”

“Oh cute! Hopefully you’ll see her again soon.” I say.

“So are you joining the Hellfire Club? We make all our own tshirts” grinned Jeff.

“I have to admit, I have never played D&D” I say shyly.

Eddie hits his chest like he’s been struck with an arrow and falls to the ground. “Just when I thought you were perfect,” he joked. “You can come as an honorary member and come sit on my throne with me” He winked and nudged me.

“Yeah and you guys can talk about the first thing that pops up” snorted Gareth. Eddie punched him in the arm to shut him up.

I blushed and agreed to meet them all after school. Was I imagining these digs at Eddie about me? Did he like me or was it so blatantly obvious that I liked him that they were all taking the mick out of me? 

After my last lesson, Eddie met me by my new locker. It was the worse location, right next to the stinky boys toilets which seemed to be on its second overflow of the day.

Eddie was leaning against the locker next to mine, arms folded and smiled at me. “You can share my locker if this gets too much” he gestured to the water now pooling outside the door. “But for now, let's get to Hellfire Club.”

He looked so excited. Like this was the first time going to the club. As he walked backwards down the hall - so smoothly like he was on a conveyor belt - Eddie explained the basic rules of D&D. I must have looked like it wasn’t going in at all - I mean it wasn’t, I was too distracted by his beautiful face - “Don’t worry if you don’t get it, you can sit with me and see the campaign. It’ll be fun, I promise” He winked, skipped around and ran to go and hold the door open for me. 

We were the last ones there. Gareth, Big Pete, Jeff, Dustin & Mike had already set everything up. When they said Eddie had a throne, I thought they had been kidding, but there it was, standing proud. “Impressive right?” said Big Pete. He looked proud so I assume he was the one that organised it. “We swiped it from the prom last year”.

I sat myself down next to Eddie and as the game progressed I could see why they all got excited by it. Eddie was so theatrical reading out the campaign. He made it exciting. He made it playful. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. 

He caught me looking at him, pulled my arm and got me to sit on the arm of the throne so I could see the campaign.

“MIKE YOU NEED TO ROLL AN 11 OR HIGHER” Screams Dustin over the table. 

Mike rolls. “FUCK!” 

I look at Eddie and giggle. They really are getting into this.

The game wraps up after a lot more swearing. 

“They’re passionate little dudes” Eddie says as the group leave. They’ve left us alone. I’m sure Eddie took longer on purpose to clear up so we would be left alone. 

“So, how was your first day at Hawkins High?” questioned Eddie.

I walk around the table dragging my fingers along the edge, gazing at what was left on the table under the low lights. “It was...interesting,” I reply. I look up at Eddie, he’s biting his bottom lip watching me. “What are you thinking about?” I ask him.

“Three days I’ve known you. Three fucking days. You are driving me wild. No girl has ever had this effect on me. You know you have a hold on me, right?” I wasn’t imaging it! My mind is racing, my heart beating faster. He walks slowly towards me. 

“Eddie…I…I’ve..” I trail off, losing my breath and he comes in closer and closer. 

“Do you not like me?” He questions as he brushes my hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. I shake my head. Completely lost for words. My tongue and brain are failing me. I want him so bad. He leans in slowly. So slowly it's as if time is standing still. His hand caressing my cheek. His lips almost touching mine. I catch my breath. “I’ve never been with anyone before” I manage to squeak out. I can see his smile grow.

“We can go as….slow…as you want” and with that, I lunge forward and kiss him hard. My hands tangling in his long curls. One of his hands on the back of my neck and the other in the small of my back. I want him. I want him like I’ve wanted no one before. 

As the passion grows, he lays me backwards onto the table, pushes himself up on his hands and looks at me. “Tell me to stop if this is too much” I shake my head again, still unable to form words. He kisses my neck and travels down to my collar bone. Fuck, this is the best feeling but I can’t let it go further. Not yet. I guide his lips back to mine. I can feel his weight on top of me. He’s hard. I can feel him pressed against me. I have done this to him, I have turned him on.

After what seems like such a short time, yet such a long time as well, we resurface for air. 

“We should go” I say. He looks frustrated but nodded, straightened up and rearranged himself. 

“Let's get going, beautiful.” He grabbed his bag, grabbed my hand and we ran down the hallway to his van. 

In his van, his usual ritual of blasting his music happened. He sang to me Kiss I was made for lovin’ you. He grabbed my hand and pumped the air. I couldn’t help but laugh and join in. 

Our joy was short-lived when we pulled up at my trailer. My dad was there standing outside looking worse for wear. He was drunk. He was drunk and angry. He scowled at me, staggered up to the passenger door and dragged me out. Eddie got out and tried to reason with him. “Sir, please it's not what it looks like. We go to school together, I was just giving Y/N a lift home. I live right over there with my uncle Wayne. You know him. You work at the plant with him.”

My dad looked him up and down, scoffed and walked inside, leaving me to say my goodbyes to Eddie. 

“I’m sorry” I start to say to Eddie. 

“Don’t be. I get it. He has trauma. But so do you. He shouldn’t take it out on you if you’re having a good time.” 

“He’s my dad, he just wants to protect me.”

“I know, so do I” Eddie reassures me that he understands. He draws me in for a hug, kisses the top of my head. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Sure thing. It’s been a pleasure” I wink and turn. Eddie grabs my wrist, pulls me in for one last kiss.

**NEXT CHAPTER HAS BEEN POSTED**