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hazelsmirrorball · 6 months

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PAPER RINGS | Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY: Charles and his long term girlfriend go to the eras tour

FACE CLAIM: Olivia Rodrigo

pairings: Singer Swiftie! Reader x Charles Leclerc

authors note: first formula 1 oneshot! hope you guys enjoy

y/nnn_ just tweeted!

y/n’s instagram post

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc, and 4,050,245 others

y/n kids, manifestation works! got to meet my one true love today at the eras tour, still can’t believe it.

tagged @taylorswift

view all 5,694 comments

y/nsmirrorball mother is mothering with mother

y/nsferrari i’m sorry but i’m crying this is the y/n x taylor content we needed and craved for years

charles_leclerc you’re one true love? what am i? chopped liver?

→ y/n *your

→ charles_leclerc your digging yourself into a bigger grave, love.

→ landonorris *you’re

carlossainz55 thank you for including me in your date! Never would’ve thought that i would enjoy a third wheeling hangout with you two.

→ y/n what can I say? we are the best throuple

→ charles_leclerc please don't make that a thing

→landosssnorris too late for that

taylorswift I’m glad to meet such a sweet soul as yourself, xoxo.

→ y/n love you love you love you

→ user101 I will forever be jealous of taylor swift

→ charles_leclerc get in line buddy

landonorris next time I expect an invite.

y/nlover i’m sorry but y/n’s the queen of manifestation. not only did she manifest meeting her idiot but also finding her dream man. i need to take notes

charles_leclerc instagram post

liked by y/n, carlossainz55 and 950,078 others

charles_leclerc had fun with my lover at the eras tour.

ps. we got paper rings and daylight as our surprise songs.

tagged @y/n

view all 1,437 comments

y/nandlando omg! the friendship bracelets.

y/nbabes I'm currently screaming, crying, puking.

lalalandy/n seven friendships bracelets makes me want to fall into a ditch and die

charlescruelsummer guys! guys! guys! don't you remembered y/n's tweet?

→ charlesxyn "I'll get engaged if we get paper rings and daylight as our surprise song" @charles_leclerc start finding a ring sir.

carlossainz55 thank you for the photo credits on the last one by the way.

→ charles_leclerc please shut up.

username12 wait! are they dressed up as miss americana and the heartbreak prince?!?!?!!?

→ y/n fuck yes! Best couple outfit for the eras tour.

lewishamilton congrats you two!

→ y/n @lewishamilton thank you lewis!

user123 why is lewis hamilton congratulating them. LEWIS WHAT DO YOU KNOW? Speak now.

y/n love you to the moon and to saturn, charles!

wag.updates just tweeted.

charles.updates just posted.

liked by y/n, landosmirrorball, and others

charlesupdates @taylorswift saw y/n's tweet and choose violence and I'm here for it!

view all 573 comments

user126 like how is it possible that she played those two songs?

verstophim what connection does she have to charles, that's something I want to know.

charlesxy/n taylor is just like us!

user21 omg!!!! y/n liked? What does this mean, please y/n. SPEAK NOW.

user101 she is a mastermind

Y/n slowly walked around the parking lot trying to find their car with Charles and Carlos trailing behind her. If she was being honest, she had a lot of feelings going through her head and the thing she was least worried about was finding the car. A big smile plastered on her face as she saw fans walking out of the stadium in the same condition as her. Y/n let out a laugh as she looked down at her socks remembering that Charles had taken her shoes. All she wanted to do was sit down and process the night she had. She was still on cloud nine, not only did she go to the eras tour with the love of her life and her best friend. Y/n had also met Taylor Swift, she still couldn’t believe it.

“Did you guys see the way she looked at me? What does she know? What is she hiding? No, because how is it even possible that she sung those two songs? Out of all her discography, Paper Rings and Daylight? Is she dropping an easter egg? Is she playing with me? Are you getting what I’m trying to say?” Y/n rambled while walking faster to the end of the large parking lot. She ran a hand through her hair desperately trying to understand how it was possible that she had not only gone to the Eras tour but gotten those two songs.

“Y/n” Charles had called for the fifth time in the past minute trying to stop her rant so she would turn around.

“Not but really, Charles. What do you think? Wait, where's Carlos?” Y/n said turning around to face Charles noticing that Carlos wasn’t next to him.

“Do you remember your tweet?” Charles asked nervously while slipping his hands on his front pockets swaying back and forth.

“What tweet? I tweet a lot of things, hun” Y/n asked while furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. She slowly reached for Charles' shoulder, noticing his nerves in an attempt to ease them.

“About the surprise songs” Charles responded searching for her eyes. Y/n squeezed his shoulder, sending him a comforting smile.

“Yeah? I ranted about the surprise songs all the time. Can’t you believe it? Daylight and Paper Rings, insane. Now let’s find Carlos” Y/n responded not getting what Charles was trying to say.

“Mon Cheri, Taylor played Daylight and Paper Rings” Charles managed to let out a nervous chuckle, getting on one knee on the pavement.

“Oh” That’s when it clicked. Y/n moved her hands to her lips attempting to cover any noise that would come out of her mouth. Charles with shaky hands took out the red velvet box from his back pocket showing it to her. Tears started flowing from her eyes as she let out a nervous laugh which Charles followed. Y/n slowly bent down to Charles level leaning into him, both of their teary laughs taking over.

“Y/n L/n, you have been one of my biggest supporters since day one and I am forever grateful for that. You made me the person I am today and I can’t imagine a world without you by my side. I would spend countless eternities with your love. I really don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, Y/n. Before I met you I thought love would be black and white but now that I have you I know it’s golden. What I’m trying to say is would you do me the honor of spending an eternity with mon cheri. Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” Charles said in between tears as Y/n gripped on him tightly. She shook her head yes as she handed him her hand which Charles gratefully took, slipping a hand made paper ring.

“You didn’t” Y/n laughed while looking at the beautifully done paper ring. Charles smiled back while looking at her proudly.

“The real ring is at home but I thought the paper ring was better for the occasion” Charles replied while pulling her into a passionate kiss.

y/n just posted

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 1,930,430 more

Y/n Taylor you are a mastermind! Can't believe I got married with paper rings.

tagged: charles_leclerc

user10 OMG OMG OMG FINALLY IM SCREAMING

maxverstappen1 congrats!

landonorris be grateful that i showed him how to do paper rings

user212 my parents are finally getting married

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hootbon · 6 days

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Ahem! I wish to present something to our dear freakshow cast! If that's acceptable.

A delicious double cheeseburger and fries. Made to be as real as possible! Not plastic like the usual foods! Along with a drink of your choosing! However! There is only ONE plate... and to earn it. The freaks must gather their weapons and...

BATTLE TO THE DEATH...

Last one standing gets the meal! The rest have to eat the plain old plastic food!

(I'm sorry, I feel bad already but... I kinda woke up and chose violence today. And I am genuinely curious as for who would win in a situation like that.)

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #freakshow au #tadc freakshow #freakshow gangle #bon’s art #freakshow jax #freakshow ragatha #tadc fanart #freakshow zooble #iforgor Pomni sorry

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fellthemarvelous · 4 months

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Holy forking shirtballs

I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.

But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.

I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.

You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.

What do we owe to each other?

Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.

My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.

I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.

I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.

The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.

So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.

My brain still lives here!!

But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.

Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.

I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.

Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.

Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.

Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)

Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.

If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.

It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.

Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.

Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.

You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.

Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.

Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!

But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.

He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.

As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.

The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.

Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.

"To the world."

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale defense squad #yeah i'm being bitchy #no i don't care if you're offended #no i'm not interested in your aziraphale hate #i'm not interested in hearing takes about aziraphale being toxic from people who can't even be objective #some of y'all need to watch the good place because you need a lesson in moral philosophy #we should be able to have discussions about the characters without gross takes calling aziraphale abusive #az and crowley approach everything from wildly different perspectives because of where they are #just admit y'all shit on az because he doesn't look or act like crowley #I'm so done with the shitty aziraphale takes #they aren't even interesting enough to debate #they're just annoying

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chantiying · 13 days

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Message from your inner child

Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language. How to choose? Think of something you liked when you were a child (a game, a toy, a smell, a candy, your favorite stuffed animal) and try to remember you as a kid, take a deep breath and when you're ready, you and your inner child choose the image that drawn to you. Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes. This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

: ¨·.·¨ :

` ·. 🦋

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

TW. Direct or indirect mention of abuse, bulling, violence, familial violence, broken family among others.

Ok, let's go!!!

PILE 1

Hello my friend :) Do you remember how disastrous our childhood was? Do you remember that there were some people who hurt us? Remember when we were pushed aside from parties? Do you remember when we found out that sometimes the "love" of a couple is not two but three? Remember when we found out what infidelity meant? Come, here and close your eyes for a moment, because I want to tell you a secret but I don't want you to see me are you ready? Yes? Ok: the infidelity of our parents marked me

I know since then we don't know what it means to love or how to make a relationship work. I know it's a lot harder for you than it was for me. I know sometimes you wonder if you're loving too little or too much, I know you're scared of being harmed like mom and dad did. Do you still feel that strange feeling of isolating all noise with music or the TV on while we sit on the floor of the room begging for it all to end? I do love you, my friend :) I know it seems a little difficult, I know it seems a little hard to say and hear, I know you may not believe it because they made you doubt what it means to love someone, but, I'll let you in on another secret: I don't feel alone anymore. I've learned that sometimes we have to leave where the water overflows to build a better castle. I learned to be smarter and not to argue when it's not necessary, to stop talking where no one listens, to live with myself and with you.

Please, I know it's not easy, but I want you to start again, on your own, I want you to leave everything behind, to let the dragons (they are not bad I already talked to them and they said they are on our side) I want you to let them destroy what hurts us, and to start building your own fortress. I want to be your first beautiful relationship. I want that you love me because I love you and I will always love you. Please love me, okay? Let's be you and me (km little you, hehe) against everyone. I want to be your partner in crime and have us laugh together. I promise you that after that, we're going to smile more and forget what they did to us.

You also have to eat well, did you hear me? Oh and don't tell anyone, but, I'm craving our favorite sweet treat from when we were little, can you eat it for us?

I'm always with you, don't forget me, I'm you but in little. Oh, something else, let's pretend it's your birthday, yei ! let's be happy for today and close your eyes again and make a wish

Francis Forever Mitski, Innocent Taylor Swift. Grey, Purple, Blue. Leaves & Streets. Orange juice?, Music, Cartoons, Headphones, Magic Wand. Mulan (I'll Make a Man Out of You)

🧸🎂🎈🍫 🧸🪄🎈🍫

PILE 2

Hey!!! What's up, buddy? I am very happy, I feel that I have arrived where I needed to be, I feel that the sun has finally risen, I feel that all the changes I had to go through have now paid off. The knowledge, the peace, the beliefs, everything I needed to cultivate is bearing fruit. See? I even speak as someone cultured and intellectual 😸. At first I didn't notice it, I was incredulous, but then I started thinking and thinking and thinking, and I realized that the change started in the interior. I know, you don't have to tell me, it sounds very cheesy, it sounds silly, but, I must admit, even if it's a little embarrassing, that sometimes dreaming and being cheesy is kind of fun SO DON'T MAKE FUN OF ME 😾😹. Ok, let's be serious, mate. We went through a time where we didn't believe in anything and we didn't even know if we should believe but I kept doing it. I kept looking until I got to where I needed to and BOOM it all made sense. Our lives are going to get better, we're better now, we're brave, we're smart, we're strong, we're cool !! We still have to keep learning, we still have a long way to go, but I learned that learning is also fun. DON'T GIVE UP, OK? Ok. I know it's hard to grow, but we've always wanted this, we've never bowed down, we've never given up, we've always looked forward and we'll continue to do so

Keep in your heart the ones who help you and give you happy moments, then let's continue writing our story

No matter how many steps forward you take, whether it's one or two or a thousand, I'll always be there proud of where you've taken us and what an amazing person you've made us. I only ask you to never forget where you come from and where you are going, don't forget to be grateful, don't play with anyone's heart or time, that's not good 😾. I want you to appreciate the time and I want that, when you think that the world is against you, or that everything is going wrong, you can change it. Don't worry, I don't want you to blame yourself for everything, but I also don't want you to always blame it on others. I know sometimes it's hard, keep trying again and again, even if you're scared don't don't victimize yourself because heroes don't do that, and you and I have the prettiest cape, we have the cutest glitter and we have the best superhero story just for us, and don't be afraid, because superheroes can do anything and if we can't our superhero friends will help us 😼

Let's be great, let's be epic!

Disney, A lot of changes or currently changing something, Happiness, Beach, Comics, Sun, Summer, Ice cream, Watch, Hats, Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride, Hannah Montana, Vacation, Pop en español (Pop in Spanish), Extrovert, Mischievous, Spider man? Funny, Tangled (the movie)

🦸, 👨‍🚀, 🐱, 🚀

PILE 3

There are two of us, we are yourself and I, and it has always been like this ☺️, do you feel confused? Because I do, a little bit, you won't get mad if I tell you, right? You'll understand, right? I feel like everything is going so fast, I feel like I can't stop, I feel like I want to rest, I feel like when I wanted the geography or math hour to end and go out for recess to get some fresh air. why is everything going so fast? I want to understand what's going on, I want to, I really want to, but I can't. Do you no longer feel distrustful? Do you believe in other people yet? Because I don't do it yet 🥺, do we have friends yet? Or are we still alone? Are they still hurting us? Are we still unsafe? I don't want to be like that anymore, I promise you, (crying?) I want to have a lot of friends, I want to be loved, I want to play, I want to have fun, but I can't believe in others, do you? I don't want to be alone, I know I said it was you and me, and I still believe it, it's you and me against the world, but I also want us to be more against the world. I want someone to turn on the light and hold my hand, would you? I want you to hug me, talk to me, I feel like you're mad at me, at the little you from a few years ago, did I do something wrong? Do you think it was my fault that we were treated like this? Do you think it was my fault that we were disappointed? I'm a little annoyed with you too, not gonna lie. you know what? I was a kid but you have everything to change what happened to us, you pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore and that's a lie! you're still upset and scared, listen, it's ENOUGH! Do something for us. At least I'm angry but I want us to change this, I want us to be happy. I want us to be together and happy, I want us to be one, I want you to remember me, but not only the bad but the good as well, remember what we like, remember the watercolors, the music we liked, remember the sun, the window, remember the yard, remember the stories that mom/dad used to tell us. Remember Mom/Dad. Remember the puddles after the rain. Please, I'm not asking you to want to be a child again to do everything differently, I'm asking you to connect with me so that our creativity flies, so that you know where to go, so that you can start something new.

The magic is in us, accept us, what you don't want to let out, is what makes us most beautiful

You will get what you want, but don't want everything, don't be ambitious. Don't forget us, don't forget you, never forget yourself.

Sadness, Grudge, Sobbing, Poverty (both spiritual and economic), Pranks, Bullying, Grass, Secret place, 8 years? Cold, Scams, Rain, Mirror, Emojis. Monsters, inc. As a child, Madeline The Person. J's lullaby (darling I'd wait for you), Delaney bailey. All I want, Kodaline. Rises the moon, Liana Flores

ꗃ🗝₊˚⊹♡ 𓉞 . ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. To be honest I struggle being consistent in what I do, but I'm trying (no, I'm really trying) to be more consistent.

Today, is children's day in my country, so I decided to do this spread for you all, because I consider that connecting and embracing our inner child is one of the most healing things we can do. So happy Children's Day !!

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot asks #tarot cards #tarot tumblr #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot and astrology #tarotcommunity #pick one #pick a picture

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the-kr8tor · 2 months

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Hello!! I hope that u r having a wonderful day/night!

I feel like suffering today so could I request reader comforting hobie after a canon event?

I need some more hurt/comfort in my life bc it’s one of my fav tropes even tho it’s sad 😭

🕊️anon

Hi, dovey!! Thank you for requesting! Prepare to be hurt/comforted 😂

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW implied violence, CW Injury, TW blood. Hurt/comfort.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Your hands are covered in crimson, iron fills your lungs as you scrub his hands in the basin. Legs aching from kneeling, tearful eyes staring at Hobie whilst he sits on the floor of your shared flat. His back lays flat on the wall. The same walls covered in the wallpaper you two chose for the place, all smiles and laughter filling the room— it's a stark contrast to the scene in front of you, his soft sobs wracking his battered body, wheezing from his bruised lungs. Yet he keeps his eyes open, red around the whites of his eyes, staring mindlessly at the ceiling he just dusted a few hours ago before it happened.

His entire suit is covered in blood, seeping through the fabric and into his skin. The same skin you brush against every morning, the same skin you love and adore. He thinks you wouldn't want to touch him again after seeing it marred by his blood and someone he failed to save. Their ichor drips on the carpeted floors, mixing into his own, staining the white material like blood on snow.

It's silent, you're silent, and he's afraid that it was almost you. Your blood almost spilled on him if he wasn't fast enough, if he chose the stranger rather than you.

Your face is unreadable, and he's terrified that he almost came home without seeing it ever again.

Your touch is soft against his split skin, and he's furious that green goblin made him choose, he feels he doesn't deserve the softness of your hands against his bloodstained ones.

Your breath hitches in your throat, dust dirtying your face, clothes torn from where goblin gripped you too tight, his mark left on your bicep; tiny pinpricks of dried blood from his sharp nails dot along your arm like grim stars.

And he's terrified of the other outcome where he didn't catch you in time.

“Hobie,” your hoarse voice cuts him like a knife, tone cracking at the simple utterance of his name, the steel twisting inside his gut at the screams you let out. “It'll be okay. We'll be okay.”

At your simple words, he wakes up, reaching over to you even when his wounds protest, even when his guilt screams at him to let you go.

You take him in your arms, kicking away the basin for more space, embracing him fully as he disappears into you. Hiding himself in the crook of your neck, body slotting perfectly against yours.

“‘m sorry,” your heart shatters at his apology. Hobie clings to you tighter, hands balling your shirt, refusing to let you go. His salty tears are gathering around your neck. But it's alright as yours drench his stained cheeks.

“It's okay.” You rock him in your arms, heavy kisses pressed on his temple, letting your love calm him. “Let it out, I'm here. I love you.”

Hobie hopes that one day you'll forgive him. Even though there's nothing to forgive while you cradle him in your arms.

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sugairsstuff · 5 months

Note

Hi saw you're looking to write stories and was hoping to send some inspiration your way! I am a sucker for "Who did this to you?" Trope and I'm just in need of more Cassian from ACOTAR on this site. So I'm thinking of a little one-shot story of the reader getting hurt by an ex or a family member she doesn't get along with and the General of the Night Court being Angry about it.

Happy Writing! Can't wait to see what you come up with! 😊

thank you very much for being my first request! and i’d be happy to- sorry if i’m a bit rusty- i hope you enjoy how i approached this prompt!

who did this to you.

cassian x fem reader (a court of thorns and roses)

warnings: mentions of abuse, minor descriptions of violence

summary: you run into an ex who wrongfully treated you, and in his pathetic attempts to beg you for forgiveness he injures you. conflicted, you choose not to tell your mate, both suppressing your right to feel emotional and worried for cassian should he go after the male. but your mate knows you like the back of his hand, and you decide to tell the truth before cassian figures it out himself.

(credit to @cafekitsune for the divider)

You stand at the end of one of the House of Wind’s scarlet-wreathed hallways, thinking only of how grateful you are of your dress’ long sleeves as your left hand rubs your opposing wrist- which throbs with the inevitable purpling of a bruise wrapped around it. Although you know your mate adores when you wear pretty jewelry of all kinds, something tells you that seeing this makeshift bracelet your ex-boyfriend gifted you today in the city would only make your mate’s crimson eyes see redder.

Your chest feels heavy, swirling with a flurry of emotions as you root yourself to the end of this hallway. The sounds of your friends’ voices- laughter- from beyond the grand doorway that stood opposing you overpowered the beating of your heart in your ears, though not the flurry in your chest that leaked into your brain, watering the seeds of your feelings and forging them into thoughts.

Your ex, so unimportant his name isn’t even needed, had ran into you accidentally whilst you were browsing a vendor selling handcrafted bookmarks in the city’s local markets. Once you saw him and made to slip into the crowd in an attempt of avoidance, it was too late, as he was already calling out your name in a tone that began in surprise and evolved into frustation. And when you didn’t look back, worried he wanted to pour his heart out to you, beg for another chance after the wicked ways he’d treated you in your past relationship, he wrapped his hand around your right wrist. He tugged you back, ignoring your sharp shout of both warning and shock as the crowd meandered past you without sparing second glances.

You didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying, your mind already in a frenzied panic as his grip only got tighter the more you tried to pull your wrist back to the safety of your side. His pleading, persuasive tone betrayed the vice-like hold he had on your wrist as he tried to force you to hear him out, hear his babbling of apologies and promises ‘to change’ and ‘to be better’.

By the time you had wrenched your wrist free, so desperate to simply get out of there, your response you threw at him was only a brief shout to leave you alone that came out more shaky than you were going for. Forgetting all your other leisurely plans for the day, you trekked back to the House of Wind, gripping your aching wrist and blinking tears back as you stared at the ground a few paces ahead of your swiftly moving boots.

So now you stand at the end of this hallway.

Thinking.

While your ex himself is old business, the encounter with him had resurfaced memories with him that left a bad taste in the back of your mouth. But they are old memories, you tell yourself to try and convince yourself there is no need to tell Cassian. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, the bruise would heal, and Gods above did you not want to send your mate on a warpath with the destination of wherever your ex lives. As much as you wouldn’t mind seeing he who does not deserve a name get what he actually deserves, you didn’t want Cassian paying the consequences for his actions. You nod to yourself in self-assuring confirmation of your decision.

You’re startled out of your head with the sudden worry you’ve been caught standing and staring at nothing like a lunatic. You glance around to ensure no person nor shadow was lurking, exhaling in small relief as you can’t think of a reasonable enough sounding excuse for your current behaviour. Don’t mind me, just contemplating the meaning of life! You scoff to yourself at your own weak joke, and move forwards until you reach the large double doors.

When you enter, familiar faces turn up to greet or smile at you from their places on the lounge room’s velvet sofas.

“There she is. You’re welcome for babysitting your whining mate, believe me when I say he’s been waiting for you the entire time in here to return from your devastatingly long two hour journey into the city.” Rhysand smirks, joking elaborately in a playful jab at his brother, with one of his hands tangled with Feyre’s in her lap- who sat nearly next to him but mostly on top of him.

“We were just wondering where you were.” Feyre jumps in to avoid the brothers getting into a back-and-forth bicker about clinginess. Her blue eyes twinkle like stars as she leans forwards a little, “So, how much did you spend today?” the female grins, looking too much alike to her mate.

You make your way to Cassian’s side immediately, standing next to the large armchair he was sprawled in rather than accepting his soft invites into his lap. He reaches over to you with both a wing and hand, the former brushing your back and the latter reaching to graze against your fingers. Placing a smile on your face comes easy as you look to Feyre, “Hate to disappoint, I only bought fresh ink and a new book.” you tell her, patting the small leather bag that rests against your hip as your excuse to move your hand away from Cassian’s. One small displacement of your sleeve would leave you having explaining to do, which you really would prefer to avoid.

Feyre whines a complaint in how you need to treat yourself more often to luxuries- as if this family hasn’t done that enough for you- before her attention switches to the male sitting below you, “Aw, sorry, Cassian, am I stealing all the attention away from you?” she teases.

You look down at your mate to see the pout on his pretty lips that elicited Feyre’s joke. One look at him, and you can tell him missing your presence wasn’t actually what was bothering him. Instead, his gaze was focused on the hand you had, apparently not subtly enough, moved away from him. Damn you for underestimating how well your mate knows you.

Cassian’s brows furrows ever so slightly as he looks up at you, a few raven black strands falling free from its messily half-tied state, appearing as though he were deeply pondering something. He looks as though he wants to say something, most likely ask why you’re acting oddly, though instead he rises to his feet and his hand lifts to brush not your hand but gently against your cheek.

Grinning, Cassian turns to Feyre and Rhysand, “Well, call me now the thief of the thief,” he shoots back equally as playfully to the High Lady, “I think we’ll be off so I can give my mate a properly informal greeting,” he jests, wiggling his eyebrows and winking at the two as he stole you away using a large, calloused hand centred on the small of your back.

You know better, though, this is simply Cassian’s way of preventing you from being put on the spot in front of two pairs of prying eyes. Cassian led you through the House of Wind’s corridors, pace slowing to make up for your lack of height in comparison to the Illyrian.

“How was your day, baby?” Cassian asks, his tone too soft for your liking right now. He’s testing the waters, you are well aware, both trying to solidify his feeling something was off and see if you are okay.

“It was fine,” you tell him honestly- well, all the parts without your ex in it. You fail to meet Cassian’s eye, afraid that if you do your mate will see right through you and know for certain you are upset. But this response only makes your mate fall quiet for a beat too long, something rare for the extroverted, energetic warlord. You hear Cassian suck in a breath as you turn a corner, and in moments he’s opening the large carved wooden door to your expansive chambers for you.

Cassian kicks the door shut gently before turning to you. You untie your boots and pull them off before he has the chance to offer to do so himself, and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. To avoid Cassian getting straight to the point and asking if something is amiss, you deflect before anything is sent, “I’m going to go run a bath. The place’s staircase is brutal,” you joke, speaking without thinking as you notice Cassian perk up a tad.

The male looks more relieved in his body language though apprehensiveness lingers in his gaze as he turns to you with a boyish smirk, “Am I invited to that event?” your mate tries.

You know you pause for a second too long as Cassian’s expression falls slightly and he begins to reel back his comment with something with just as much lightheartedness as there was worry for you, “Or shall I leave the lady to her flowery bubblebath and soap?”

You frown and shake your head. “No, no, it’s okay, I want you to come.” Normally, you’d make a sexual joke to lure him in the hot, soapy water with you, but the burden that Cassian will inevitabley discover exactly what is making things not okay in minutes was leaning over you.

“Okay,” is all Cassian responds with, and you inwardly cringe at how clear it is how simultaneously unsure and sure he is that something is bothering you. That heavy feeling in your chest returns, settling back to where it sat in that hallway as now you feel guilty for confusing your mate over such a small, meaningless encounter with a hostile ex. Or so you tell yourself.

It’s as if a tether is attached to that weight in your chest, giving a comforting tug that pulls some of it off of your lungs. You look up to Cassian, knowing that tether was instead that special little string that tied the beautiful bow of your bond. Your mate looks much more serious now as his deep red eyes flicker with concern, though he still speaks softly, “Come on. That bath’s calling our names.”

You stand rather than sit in the large bathroom as Cassian leans over the luxurious tub, hand testing the water as he makes sure it’s set to the temperature you like the most. You make no move to begin undressing, your arms wrapped tightly around you. The bruise no longer throbs as it sits untouched, but you’re still painfully aware of it.

Cassian eventually turns to you, his large wings extending slightly as he approaches you. Seeing as you are still undressed, his hand traces its way around your waist where two of his fingers catch the string of the dress’ corset, “May I?” he asks, though there are no lustful undertones in the warlord’s deep voice, despite him preparing to strip his lover in front of a steaming bath.

You nod up at him, but place a hand on his wrist before he makes a move. Cassian’s gaze flicks to yours immediately. His brows pinch upwards slightly in gentle questioning.

“Just- don’t freak out. Don’t panic. Okay?” you say vaguely, and watch as Cassian’s expression only becomes more worried. “Cassian.” you say, more sternly.

“You’re scaring me here,” he says, your name trailing at the end of his sentence rather than one of his more playful pet names. When you only look up at him with a pleading gaze, Cassian gives in with a sigh, “Okay.”

Your mate commences, tugging the dress loosely ever so gently. You can tell he’s alert as he stands over you, his wings and scent engulfing you as he peels off your day dress. You watch his face closely as he watches your body. Any other day, and you knew what you’d find there- sweet, honey-dripping lust and warm, intimate love as more of your figure is exposed to him. Right now, though, his brow is furrowed, and he’s looking at every inch of your skin, scanning you for what exactly your warning meant.

Cassian gently tugs the sleeves of the dress off of your arm. His crimson gaze looks to your left wrist, and then to your right wrist.

And then Cassian goes rigid.

You never understood how eyes could darken like the ways they were described to in all the books Nesta reads, but watching your mate now- now you fully understand. Leaning over you, eyes unmoving from the splotchy purple markings around your wrist, you watch as lethal anger fills his vision, you see your mate see exactly the colour of his eyes as pure, vicious anger seeps into his blood and runs it cold.

“Who.” Cassian’s voice is low, quiet. You blink at the husky, nearly strangled-sounding word that your mate managed out. “Who did this to you.” he says, his eyes finally meeting yours, and you see that the look in them has changed only slightly- just enough to show you it is far from you that Cassian is angry at.

You look down, your eyes stinging suddenly as tears brim your eyes and you have no idea why. You don’t answer, so Cassian speaks for you, tone low though not harsh towards you, “Was it him?”

You nod, and open your mouth to speak and curse yourself for stumbling over your words, “We ran into each other at the market earlier. He- he grabbed me, Cass, and he wouldn’t let go. I was so scared. I just ran.” you manage, feeling the cool trail of a tear drip down your cheek. The sight of that alone was enough for Cassian.

He curses, stepping back from you as his wings flare. “I am going to kill him. I swear to every God above, he’s a fucking dead male walking.” Cassian growls, both of you having completely forgotten about your planned bath together as he paces the bathroom like a prowling predator, as if he were plotting right now all the ways he’d make that male suffer.

You move towards him then, tears still running down your cheeks as you set your right hand on his arm, feeling how tight and tense the muscles beneath are. “No, Cassian,” you tell him, “you can’t. Don’t go after him, please, Rhysand can’t play favourites no matter what you do to him,” you tell him.

Cassian looks down at you, the fury in his gaze swirling and settling and then slipping away. He sighs, moving his own two hands to cup your cheeks gently. The large male uses his thumbs to brush away your tears. “Okay.” he says, sounding almost reluctant. “But I still can’t let him get away with this. I won’t.” Cassian tells you, his tone stern yet not harsh in an assurance that he would not let this happen to you ever again. He pulls you close to his chest, wrapping both his arms and wings around you, cocooning you in warmth. Cassian strokes your hair, letting you smoosh your cheek against his chest and listen to his slowed, steady heartbeat.

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” Cassian eventually murmurs once your tears have ceased, earning a small snort and then, blissfully, a laugh from you.

“Don’t worry, I just would rather only him being arrested then both of you.” you respond, and now it’s Cassian’s turn to chuckle. He releases you from his anchoring hold. “We can talk to Rhysand tomorrow, yeah? About the political and civil way to get him punished.” Cassian huffs, emphasizing his words in a joke.

You roll your eyes as you finish undressing, “Oh, yes, how very boring.”

Cassian only grins back at you, joining you once you climb into the tub and pulling you back against his chest, one hand interlocking with yours as he frowns momentarily at the bruising. “My idea of killing him is still up for grabs, though,” he hums.

“Cassian.”

#cassian x reader #cassian #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #bat boys #cassian x y/n #cassian x you

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sssammich · 3 months

Note

supercorp one-word prompt: "captive"

hi sorry i'm choosing violence today

@lovesastateofmind1 gave this a quick read and angst stamp of approval so thanks, friend!

send me prompts

---

kara knew a thing or two about loss. she knew it intimately. slept beside it like a distant lover, a thin pillow between them.

so she knew that when she watched from her place beside lena as her best friend got married to jack, it almost felt like being embraced by loss all over again. she tucked her head down, covered her face daintily as if her happiness for the now wedded couple was so overwhelming she had to swallow it back in.

the applause rang true and loud and alive around her. she passed off the bouquet of plumerias back to lena, dutiful maid of honor as she was, and she watched as the love of her life walked down the aisle with the love of her life.

at the reception, she stood in front of dozens of people awaiting the prose they expected from a pulitzer-winning journalist. held captive by their eyes, their expectations. she smiled and let the crinkles by her eyes appear--that's how they knew she was smiling with her eyes, right? she would use it to her advantage if only to get through the next few minutes.

"love is…an enduring thing. a hopeful thing. it is the act of getting up in the morning, of walking to the window and pulling back the curtains to let light in." she was not looking at any one person even as she pretended to scan the room. if only so she didn't have to look at lena anymore.

oh, but she loved loss as much as loss loved her. and so she finished her sweep to cast her gaze at the loveliest shade of green eyes staring at her in wonder.

she gripped the mic just a smidgen tighter and cleared her throat, the rest of her speech out of her mind and floating like dust motes under the spotlight.

"i know that speeches like these tend to be chock full of stories and inside jokes about the bride and groom. and maybe a couple more of these--" she held up her near empty champagne flute, "--you'll get lucky, but i am truly speechless. all i know is that lena deserves all the love in the world. she can be stubborn and proud and will push you to your limits, but that's because her heart is so full of love to give. so all i want to say is this: jack, please, take care of her and love her with all of your heart. show her everyday that she is beautiful, mind and body. show her that you'll be present and loyal and stay by her side, regardless of who steps in and out of your lives. because if there's one thing i know about lena, it's that she is and will always be worth the effort."

she heard sniffles around the rooms, yet she couldn't pay attention to them. not when lena's smiling face slowly transformed to slight confusion, her brows furrowing just slightly. she raised her glass and offered her widest smile yet.

"i wish you two the best."

the cheers and applause thundered around them, others clinking their glasses as guests chanted for the lovely couple to kiss. kara shut her eyes and threw back the last dregs of her champagne. she hurried to the MC and dropped the microphone, before rushing away, citing a need for a refill and walked towards the bar. yet instead of stopping at the bar, she didn't stop.

a sob escaped out of her lungs and she barely stifled it, unable to hold it in. she wiped an errant tear away from her face as she walked past the bar and out of the grand hall altogether.

it turned out that cowardice, like loss, loved her company. and she embraced it with tight fists by her side.

#waknatious #replies #supercorp #kara x lena #samfic #supercorp ficlet #unrequited love??? but is it??? who knows #samfic: collateral

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 month

Text

synchronise 2.0

On one end of the line, you've sunny days, mild breezes and not one thing to worry over. On the other end, there are only moonless nights, foul gales and one too many decisions– made and unmade– to repent for. And in the middle of this line segment, is you—

The only means by which the scales can be re-balanced. The equilibrium lost can be re-discovered. The wheels of life thrown off-kilter can be re-synchronised.

[Long story short: Time can be a funny little bitch— Good thing, you know how to be funnier than time itself!]

gojo satoru x fem!reader; canon divergence; time travel fix-it; the story begins here... freaking finallyyy 🤗🤗; tw: food mentions and mild *friendly* violence

prev chapter // synchronise masterlist // THE masterlist

chapter two: 23/3/2005

Working in a coffee shop sucks.

Sure, there are many nice things about the job: free coffee, yummy brownies, upbeat music, lenient managers and a pretty good pay— Still, you deem it to be the worst of the worst— Many, many thanks to the white-haired, shades-wearing abomination across the counter.

You decide not to hold back your grimace when he grins.

"You're looking very cute today, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. I've got a mirror in my room," You retort, trying to wring and squeeze every bit of your exhaustion– exasperation– into the sigh ensuing, "Now, can you tell me your order quickly? People are getting late because of you."

"Oh, let them be," The boy waves your concerns away with an uncaring chuckle, "Surely, none of them is as important, or as generous, a customer as me— are they, candy?"

No, they aren't.

Neither the university student, nor the mother of those triplets, nor the salaryman, nor the elderly couple at the end of the queue: None of them buy as much as this boy does, yet– given your math is correct [it always is]– their collective purchases amount to more than the cost of whatever new solution of sucrose and caffeine he comes up with each new day...

Your teeth clack against each other as you peer up, eyes narrowing into slits, "Look, this is the last time I'm asking you. Tell me your bloody orders and step away, or–"

A cold palm over yours startles you into a sudden still.

And your hand moves before your brain can even grasp what the hell just happened– or directs, what will happen.

---

"You're not going to say sorry."

You should apologise to Gojo. You know you must do that.

Both of you have shared far too many casual touches for you to react this way– for you to twist his wrist then punch his face– at the mere feel of his palm on yours— Still, you choose to keep your mouth shut, willing your mind to focus only on the trash you've been tasked to take out.

A task seeming impossible now, thanks to the blinding reservoir of cursed energy trailing behind you from the time you were asked to leave the billing counter... Insistent, persistent, terribly obstinate— You huff a quiet groan when two familiar footsteps sound across the kitchen, following even into the dark alleyway behind the shop.

He calls your name. It sounds somewhat desperate– or maybe that's just your wishful thinking. Maybe you should stop watching those stupid, unrealistic romance movies— "So, you've decided you won't apologise, huh?"

"No," You reply, terse and firm, stopping but without throwing a glance backwards, "Why must I say sorry for your piss-poor blocking abilities, hm? Go improve your skills instead of bugging me at my part-time job... Just go, Sato– H-hey! W-what—"

The boy's reaction shouldn't shock you.

No, really. It shouldn't. You ought to be more used to the phenomenon named 'Gojo Satoru' by now, after twelve long years of close friendship with him... So sad, all that time together does nothing to stop your squeak of surprise when he wraps an arm round your midsection then snatches the bag of rubbish, effortlessly throwing it into the bin more than a few feet away.

Your muscles instantly grow tense, readying to fight to be free— only to relax when you hear your name. Spoken so softly... so carefully... Almost as if you aren't some furious animal baring its canines; almost as if you're some fragile glass figurine.

You don't like it, but can't really bring yourself to hate it either. Not when Gojo's voice sounds so worried when he asks, "Skipped your breakfast, mochi?"

"No." You return a sharp shake of your head.

Making you sit on an empty cardboard box by the wall, he crouches down before you. And asks, "Got yelled at by someone in your family, then?"

"No." You shake your head again, albeit with lesser edge this time. Confusion pushes your brows into a deep furrow, your mouth into a sour frown. "Why are you asking me these, Satoru? What the hell is wrong with you?"

The addressed's features break from their state of extreme focus, to become one of extreme hurt, before reverting to their state of extreme focus. Gojo removes his glasses, the shine of his blue eyes increasing manifold as they travel over your form, finally settling on your face.

Absolutely hating the tingles now dancing in your chest, you watch the boy exhale a sigh.

A very long, very tired sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with me, candy... There's something really wrong with you— You've been snappish and rude since today morning. And don't ev–" He falls silent, features scrunching up for a beat before lighting up in a moment of pure happy realisation. Too happy realisation, you think, watching the mile-wide grin on his face.

"You're sad because I'll be moving away next month and you've been pushing me away because you're sad— Isn't that right, candy? Isn't that right? Right? Right???"

Probably. Possibly. Almost certainly–

You lean back into the wall, schooling your face into one pretty unbothered.

After all... It won't do now if you confess to him all your fears and concerns. It won't do ever if you confess to him all your fears and concerns...

"You're not leaving for Jujutsu High in a month, idiot," You say, sternly ignoring the dull ache the thought makes in your heart, "You're leaving in less than a week. Auntie called today morni— 'Toru, no!"

Yanking the phone from his hand, you flip it shut and stuff it into your pocket. Then glare when you find Gojo reaching towards it. Bright beam now nowhere to be seen, the boy glares back and huffing, gets up to plop down onto the box beside yours.

You stare at the marks on your fingers for a while, before looping an arm round his shoulders— Shoulders, you never realised until this moment, had grown so broad... Whatever—

"Please don't make a fuss over this, 'Toru," You murmur, squeezing his arm lightly, "First off, the higher-ups will scold you terribly: They are hell-bent on making you go away from your home to under their shadows as soon as possible— And second–"

You lift his chin to make him look you in the eye. Azure pools of power, prestige and now upset, blinking back at you, bare and free of any and all covering.

"They'll give me hell because I told you this: I am not supposed to tell you this— something to do with shocking you then kidnapping you away while you're numb from the shock, I guess..." You trail off for a bit, before chuckling, "Those old geezers are so dumb, right?"

Gojo returns a weak nod and an even weaker "Heh!"— And you think, this is it.

This. Is. It.

Your last conversation with your best friend in the foreseeable future... Or probably ever.

That happened in the dirty narrow alleyway behind a mill-of-the-run coffee shop.

Where neither of you laughed. Or joked. Or did anything, anything remotely happy...

You don't really think– not even once– before you wrap your arms round Gojo's waist and push your face into his arm. It takes less than a beat for the boy to shift his body, and you, so that you're no longer trapping him in a weird sideways hug, rather hugging him properly. His fingers comb through your hair: so firm, so sure. Much like the suggestion reaching you next.

"Why don't we both run away to Paris, candy? We can escape from all this mess then."

"Wha–" You exclaim, incredulity seeping into your huffed chortle as you pull away. [It doesn't sound bad, a tiny voice in your brain whispers. Not bad at all– You strangle that stupid voice...] Hope shines in Gojo's eyes as he peers down at you. You force your lips down into a flat line.

"You're not Romeo, 'Toru; and sure, I'm pretty but I don't wanna end up dead like Juliet." You say, patting his cheeks, letting your tone grow a tad soft on receiving a pout. "You really need to stop watching romance movies, y'know... That teeny-tiny brain inside your huge skull is rotting– I can get the stench even– Ow, you ass!"

Gojo's lips quirk up slightly when you shove him back– but it's gone before it can form fully.

He shifts even closer to you, nearly engulfing your figure in the chill of his bigger frame. "Not every love story has to end that way, candy."

"Ours is not even a love story to begin with, Satoru," You scoff, noticing yet opting to ignore the sudden tensing of his posture, "And considering we do run away to Paris, like you suggested— What then, hm? Where will we stay? What will we eat? From where the hell are we going to get the money we need? Most importantly, how long will we keep running, Satoru?"

Screwing your eyes shut, you inhale then exhale, just the way your mom taught you to do when your emotions seem to be getting a bit out of hand— Opening your eyes, you find Gojo staring at you... rather weirdly.

You let your eyes fall to the fading colors of your shoes.

Resuming as you do, "What I'm trying to say is: we're teenagers, 'Toru. Whatever plan we make is bound to be stupid– more like, doomed to be stupid. Let's just go with the flow now. When we are older, we will be much smarter, stronger, scarier: We can do whatever we want then, and no one will dare to stop us. We can even run away to Paris, if that's what you want— Yeah?"

Looking back up, you find the boy's features not too far from that weird state... Until they are, and you feel as if you're staring straight at the sun. Or maybe that's just his cursed energy flaring up... Ugh, why is he such a powerhouse–

Grinning widely, Gojo clasps your hands in his. "Wanna do a Binding Vow, sweetness?"

No. Hell no. Never ever—

You know you must refuse. You must shut him up before his foolish tendencies take him way too far— take you with him way too far. Still, you do very little to quieten that pleased hum in your mind, when you register just how much he wishes to stay associated with you...

"A pinky promise sounds cuter, right?" You suggest with a smile– One that grows wider when you receive an eager nod in answer. You, however, curl your hand into a fist when he moves to lock his little finger with yours.

Grinning when he dissolves into whining, "Heyyy... what's the problem now, candy?"

"There isn't any problem, 'Toru. Just few conditions," You correct with a cheeky lilt to your tone, "Like, we ought to text each other minimum once a day, call each other minimum once a week, meet each other minimum once a month– And, last but not the least," You drop your volume to a value so low that only the two of you can hear.

"We must not forget each other, no matter what."

Gojo's frown melts away into something graver— before his beam's back in every bit of its glory.

You watch as he slowly pries your fist open, intertwining his little finger with yours and saying, "I agree. Pinky promise to do whatever you said, sweetness."

"I too pinky promise to do everything you said, 'Toru," You don't waste a beat in echoing his dedication in your words. The boy's grin grows bigger, reminding you yet again of the midday sun– Not the scorching one in summer, though! His resembles the gentle one of winters...

A sudden beep! from your phone jolts you out of your thoughts– And you jolt Gojo out of his seat next to you, scowling playfully as you do.

"Now off you go, my sucrose-loving fiend-for-a-friend," You rise as well, pushing him towards the back door to the kitchen, "Go, give your orders and get us a nice table; preferably, one closest to the AC. I'll finish my chores here and join you in a bit."

"Promise?" The boy asks with a pensive pout, just outside the building. You reach up to flick him– kind of– on the forehead, laughing fondly. "Yeah, you idiot. Now, go! I'm getting late!"

"Geez... okay, okay," Gojo exclaims back, laughing. And with that, plus a last-moment ruffling of your hair by him, he walks back into the shop. Leaving you to the quiet of your mind, the latter now much lighter, after your much-needed [yet much-avoided] conversation with him—

Too bad, you were never meant to relish the sound of silence.

No sooner do you step one foot towards the garbage bins than you feel the world before you tilt by a few degrees, for longer than a few measly seconds— Until everything is right again.

Or maybe nothing is... Nothing will ever quite be...

Not when you find yourself on a fine Wednesday morning, face-to-face with your carbon-copy— Except she isn't really so: She seems much older, much thinner, much sadder than the girl you saw in your mirror today...

It isn't really your fault, you think, when you end up blurting out, "Oh my God... So, I'm not my parents' only daugher, am I?"

next chapter

loserboy x girlboss → got to be my fave dynamic of all time [bonus points if both r somewht weird & stupid 😂😂]

header from pinterest; dividers by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo angst #jjk angst #kit posts 📝

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 24 days

Text

Yandere Coworker (part 10)

Tw: afab reader, Cyprus has some fucked up exes, mentions of violence, pretty much just some boring exposition about our resident stimky

Masterlists, Part 1 , part 11

Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "No. We are going home. These fucking animals can't control themselves today. Come on." He snatched your wrist and dragged you away from the table, the food hadn't even arrived yet and he was leaving.

"Wait, we're sorry!" One of them piped up, making you and Cyprus turn around. You saw that all the men at the table were standing up, ready to restrain him. "Look, Cy. We're just... We fucked up, we get it. We're sorry." Another one continued.

"We're just happy you found someone different, we didn't mean to scare the shit out of your girl, It's just so new and-"

You interrupted their apology by asking what they meant by someone "different". You could never get used to all seven pairs of eyes on you instantly, feeling like you almost had a heart attack with the sudden blast of attention on you.

"Sweetie, you're worlds apart from Cyprus and the women he usually chooses." Said one of the girlfriends with a coo. The three of them stared at you adoringly, smiling and leaning toward your particular direction. You wonder what they saw you as.

You looked back up to Cyprus, he seemed frozen in place. His lips were tightly pursed and his steely eyes glared at his friends.

"Sit down with us for a while, and we'll tell you what you want to know about your loverboy." Purred another one of the women. You returned your attention to them, now completely interested in this topic. Wrenching your hand away from Cyprus's loosened grip, you hastily returned to your original seat. Which prompted a cheer from the six of them, the men roaring and clapping in encouragement, while the women sang praises and giggled gleefully.

They turned their attention to Cyprus. "Come on, Cy. At least wait till your girl is fed before hitting the road."

You can see him clench his fist momentarily before marching right up to you. But he didn't take a seat, instead lifting you up by the waist and swiftly plopping you down on his lap. Cyprus protectively wrapped his muscular arms around your smaller form, letting his pecks and leather jacket engulf you.

The other patrons spared your table a glance, they didn't seem to care about the commotion Cyprus's friends were causing in the pub.

Cyprus didn't have anything to say, allowing you to freely converse with the men and women at the table, whom you still haven't learned the names of.

They watched you eagerly to open up the conversation that you wanted to have, but you were nervous. It felt like you were presenting in front of the entire world, these people will remember every blunder, every social faux pas, and every cringeworthy moment that may be birthed from your anxiousness.

You cleared your throat and shifted until you felt comfortable and cozy enough to continue. You felt his soft lips brush against your hair whenever you moved, only when you were relatively stable did Cyprus properly kiss you on the back of the head. Subconsciously, you're sinking deeper into him and shrinking yourself, his friends are as intimidating as a pack of laughing hyenas and you're a piece of fresh meat for them to tear into.

"I'm right here, baby." He whispered, squeezing you assuringly after noticing that you froze up. Somehow, that comforted you enough to relax your tensed shoulders.

The woman closest to you must have heard him, as a very audible and visceral "Aww!" left her supple lips. Cyprus whipped his head to the side and snapped at her to shut up. They laughed at his attempt to control the situation, which still confused you; making you wonder if they even saw Cyprus as a threat. Or if they were just comfortable enough to continuously disrespect him like that.

You gulped as you mustered all your courage to ask about what they meant about you being different, wanting to know in what sense. You then went on to ask if they think you're "different", as in, you're considered abnormal or an outcast of society- perhaps that statement opened old wounds from the past as you felt a strong feeling of dread and nausea wash over you.

"No, nothing like that!" One of the men exclaimed seemingly alarming the rest of the group that they might have offended you. The teasing smiles on their faces dropped and their expression morphed into that of concern and surprise. This sudden change spooked you, what did they see to make them drop their usual carefree attitude? Why did they care about your feelings this much when it's somewhat established that Cyprus is a player and cycles through his flings like laundry?

Eventually, the atmosphere calmed enough for one of the boys to clarify what they meant.

"You are nothing like his batshit crazy exes. You're nice and shy, Cy genuinely likes you too." Again, with the usage of 'shy'. You were curious enough to ask them what they meant by 'shy' and why it is used frequently when describing you.

He stammered, flabbergasted that you were asking the obvious, "You are! I don't know what else to tell you- you're just shy--" His words were cut short by another one of his buddies.

"What that dumbass is trying to say is, you're not loud. Not acting like a total bitch and nothing like Cyprus."

You took a few seconds to stew in his words. So they think Cyprus is actually unpleasant to be with?

"Yeah." One of the girls nonchalantly sipped on her beer after responding. Followed by the rest of them agreeing. Cyprus simply huffed and rolled his eyes at their admittance.

You then asked about why are they still friends with him.

They shrugged, all almost simultaneously. They giggled among each other until one of them spoke up again. "He's not that bad. Cyprus sucks sometimes, but he's a real good guy and we like him."

"He keeps us alive."

"He bailed me out of jail."

"He's the dad of our friend group."

"If it wasn't for him, our lives would be all fucked up."

"Yeah, he sets us straight."

"I owe him money."

"He owes me money."

The boys continued raving about how great a character Cyprus is.

"But his exes though... no thank you." The girls had a grimace on their beautiful faces. "They're horrible, the worst. 'EWW' personified."

It appears that the girlfriends are especially disapproving of his past women. You decided to press on, you could try and shake Cyprus's abhorrent interest in you by mimicking the behavior of these people he dated.

"Oh, honey. They're the worst. Ugh."

You asked how so.

"Where do I begin-"

"Oh my god, tell her about the girl who literally poisoned us because she didn't like how we looked at Cyprus."

"Yeah! And the girl who thought it was cute to spread some fake rumors about us infecting the whole town with some STD. I almost got fired from work because of that!"

"And, and, the girl who got into a nasty fistfight with the boys because she didn't like our jokes... It was impressive how she won, though."

"And the girl who sucker-punched me in the face and fucked up my nose." She pointed at her sniffer, which you now notice was slightly crooked.

"And the girl who sucker-punched Cyprus in the face and caused a pub brawl. You just had to be there to see the bloodbath, she actually got us banned from the last place."

"And the girl who totaled our bikes and cars because she didn't like how Cyprus had a life and friends."

"And the girl who stalked Cyprus, broke into his apartment, burnt it down, and left each of us a box containing dead, mangled rats. That was why Cyprus quit his last job and moved away- don't worry though, she's behind bars now."

"And the girl who literally stabbed Cyprus in the leg because of an argument about how he shouldn't order steak at every restaurant he goes to- I think we got banned from that pub too."

"And the girl who committed identity fraud using Cyprus's credit card, and stole a hundred dollars from my purse when I wasn't looking."

"And the girl who was just so mean to us that it managed to make Lydia cry! She kept insulting us and splashed water on Cyprus's face when he stepped in."

You now know one of the girls' names is Lydia. She's the brunette.

"And the girl who strangled Cyprus because he didn't text her back fast enough."

"And the girl who tried to kill Cyprus."

"Oh, come on, Kitty. You have to be more specific than that, I can think of ten of his exes who tried to kill him and us."

Kitty is the woman with the red highlights in her black hair.

"Don't forget, he dated someone who shits on all his life choices, made sure he knows she thinks he's ugly, is ungrateful for all that he has done for her, and dared to get all teary-eyed and pissy because Cyprus isn't chasing her enough."

"Oh my god, what about that one bitch who tried to control everything about him, down to how he speaks and blinks? She's fucking crazy! Literally, she tried everything. Blackmail, sabotage and even drugging, she even tried to frame him for a murder that he didn't commit!"

"What about that girl who stole Jewel's panties, and planted them in Cyprus's car just to try and ruin our friend group by accusing him of cheating on her? What a fucking weirdo and a dumb bitch for not checking if there were any surveillance cameras before breaking into a house."

Jewel is the woman with platinum blond hair and a pair of blue earrings.

You counted the number of different girls that they mentioned. At least 15, and they kept going. You turned your head up to look at Cyprus, he appeared bored as the girls casually recounted his most traumatic encounters with his previous girlfriends.

From what you heard, it seems like his love life is filled with hatred, yelling, fear, and struggles to attain dominance. Is that why his approach to you is so strange, forceful, and unnerving? Yet somewhat gentle?

It's undeniable you're different. It's like you're the first decent human being that he has ever dated. He tasted the deliciousness of the bare minimum and couldn't go back, he just had to go after you.

"And You? You're a fucking angel." Lydia's sudden shift of attention towards you made you jolt. "You're nothing but sweetness. Cyprus, you better hold onto her and never fucking let go."

Each member expressed their agreement and approval of your character.

You told them that they shouldn't accept you too soon. You could be one of them too, waiting to backstab everyone. For all they know, you could be a two-faced psycho and the worst instance of his exes.

The table fell silent momentarily. You held your breath as your eyes darted from person to person.

You felt your blood run cold when all of them erupted into thundering laughter, including Cyprus. You felt his entire frame shake as he found what you said hilarious.

"I told you guys, she's just so fucking cute and funny." Said Cyprus before he craned his head down to smooch you on the cheek. You squirmed in his lap as he snaked his arms tighter around your body.

"That sounds like what his exes would never ever say." Interjected one of his buddies.

You said that you're serious! How can they prove that you wouldn't turn out that way? Cyprus is a massive insanity magnet, there is a high chance that you're just some closeted murderer!

"Oh, I don't know, sweetie. Maybe it's because you're humble enough to suggest that you're not above those psychos- which you absolutely are above them. Maybe it's because we've been observing you all this time and we know you don't have an evil bone in your body. Maybe it's because we heard nothing but positives about you. Maybe it's because you're actually good for Cyprus." Listed Jewel.

"Yeah! Cy barely smokes now. You're helping him as much as he is helping you kick your phone addiction." Said one of the boys.

You insisted that you weren't addicted to your phone. They ignored you and continued talking over you, gushing over how you're angelic and kind- almost like praising a deity of some sort. With them putting you on a pedestal like that, you felt uncomfortable.

You cut in, asking them a burning question. You asked about the common denominator that all of his insane exes had.

"Funny how you're asking them and not me." Snarked Cyprus. You said that it's a somewhat unbiased, third party view of his dating life, if you had asked Cyprus directly, he may not have given an accurate answer. To that, he simply rolled his eyes at you before adjusting his glasses.

They all took a second to think about it. Until one of them said:

"They're all fast. Like, they started becoming a pair after meeting each other for a few days. Sometimes even hours."

"And his relationships were- no offence Cy, low effort? There wasn't that strong a commitment to it."

He shrugged, seemingly aware and accepting of that observation.

You said that this relationship with Cyprus started overnight with no weight.

"We have known each other for over a year." Cyprus corrected you.

"I was madly in love with you for months, and I had to spell it out, letter by letter, because you were that clueless." He lovingly pinched your cheek. You swatted his hand away.

"Do you guys know how hard it was to get her to ease up? The fact that she's a major crybaby too makes it way harder than it should be." He teasingly nuzzled his nose against the back of your neck.

"But she's my crybaby, and I will never let her go." He snickered when you writhed in his lap as he playfully poked your sides.

"You're so cute." He murmured in your ears as he tortured you with tickles. You desperately tried to escape his grasp, but he was just too strong, too fast for you to do so.

"You're definitely his last love. His endgame. And we're happy for both of you, you guys are perfect for each other and meant to be!"

Kitty raised her half empty glass of beer. "A toast to Cyprus's first relationship that wouldn't end in a disaster, and his last!"

Everyone else raised their glass except you.

You can only look on in horror as everyone on the table turns a blind eye to the distress you're facing. Among the lively chatter and gleeful guffaws, you're floating in your own puddle of misery. You're trapped, doomed to be with someone who you're not interested in if you're not doing anything to stop it soon.

Well, at least you can see the waiter coming over with the food. Even if you are facing the horrors, at least you wouldn't have to do it hungry.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader #tw afab reader #afab reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #oc cyprus #yandere coworker #yandere content

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itskattkm · 10 months

Text

New York New Rules Pt. 3

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a long story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

My body began to vibrate, or rather my head when I leaned it against the window of the taxi. So let's start reflecting on the day as it went so far.

Missed therapy hour because my therapist was brutally murdered. Check.

Shit... it would take me months until I find a new one.

What happened next? I closed my eyes and played the pictures in my head through like a movie.

Been accused for murder? Check.

Have been exposed and embarrassed In front of your girl crush and her sister? Check.

Surprising meeting with Kirby? Check.

Pursued by paparazzis and "interviewed" by Gale weathers? Check.

Witness to Tara punching Gale Weathers? Check.

Was I slightly turned on by it? Double Check.

"Y/N you're good?" A soft voice brought me back. I opened my eyes and had to blink slightly because of the unexpected brightness around me. I nodded silently and looked for the eyes of the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. I put my hand on the passenger seat and pulled slightly forward, which is why Tara who sat between me and Sam pushed herself closer to Sam to give me the place I needed. "Hey you can let me out at Pompeii Pizza" he nodded to me but now Sam bent down in front "Y/N you can't go now you have to come with us" there was that shy me I knew so good. I probably would have done anything she said, but right now? Now I felt numb. Not present. And I didn't care.

No matter what happened yesterday. No matter what happened today. I just had to go home and hide in my room. It was one thing to become suspicious for several murders but to be exposed in front of almost complete strangers and to be claimed as a crazy woman with mental problems? And on top of that in front of your crush. That was too much for me.

Although Detective Bailey had exposed me to the two and they knew now more about me than I would have liked to let them know, I asked myself the question

Why do you want me to come with you?

"Why?" I asked confused

"Apart from the fact that you are a suspect, we have to talk to the others about it. Mindy wants us all to meet at the Blackmoore," she said and her eyes darkened. Although they didn't seem particularly inviting at the moment, I recognized something soothing in them.

"So you believe what Bailey said?" I asked and did not seem as strong as I had hoped. My voice was getting quieter and quieter. Maybe we didn't know each other so well, and I was just a friend of Mindy but did they really believe that I was behind it?

"Where were you during the bodega attack?" Said Tara cautions.

Confused, my gaze met hers. No, I wasn't confused. I was hurt. Her look was cold. Anger could be seen in her dark eyes, but the way she pulled her eyebrows together told me that there was something else, but what?

"Pompeii Pizza" said the driver and stopped.

Exhausted, I took a look and sighed. I shook my head when I opened the door of the taxi and got out.

"Y/N!"

I ignored it. Did Tara really think I was behind it? I didn't like the way she looked at me. As if I were a monster... the cars on the street were getting louder and louder for me. The measurements of people who were on the streets. Confused, I looked at the floor as I slowly went to the pizzeria.

And there they were at once. A few minutes before, I felt numb and now. Now there were too many feelings. I tried to arrange it in my head like a riddle. But I couldn't see anything. Too many letters. No words. I clenched my hands into fists to feel something I could describe. Then there was this sting. A continuous stitch. I had pressed my nails firmly into my palms so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Now I asked myself. What does that feel like?

After resensood.

Pressure a pressure that did not want to disappear.

And then the letters in my head came together and the word pain appeared before my eyes.

"Y/N wait!" I was grabbed by my shoulder and expected to be abruptly turned over. However, I was surprised and that of Sam. She sighed and slowly stood in front of me, so that I was forced to look at her. I was forced not to go any further.

"I was also a patient at Dr. Stone"

With widened eyes, I looked at her and a short smile escaped her lips when she agreed to my expression with a nodding head. "Believe me when I tell you that I can imagine how you feel. But you also have to understand-"

She looked over my shoulder to see Tara. However, I did not follow her gaze. As Tara had looked at me earlier... I never wanted to see these eyes again. That look in them. It made me feel so vulnerable and anxious. I already had it so hard to keep in touch with the people around me, but I tried to stand by. And with Tara, well it won't be difficult for me to ignore her in the near future.

At least that's what I thought

"After what we've been through, it's difficult for us with new people... and how fucked that sounds, but that's what Bailey said are very violent coincidences Y/N and if we should trust you... then you have to prove it to us"

Now I felt a different feeling.

Incomprehension

"Why should I do that?"

Surprised, Sam looked at me and straightened up. She probably didn't expect this answer.

"Sam, I am not part of your group. I'm just a friend of Mindy's"

I looked at the pizzeria and looked into the eyes of my own reflection Why do I looked so sad?

"As much as I wish it would be different, but even for Mindy I am just an acquaintance from the courses we have in common. And we both know Mindy, she is also very careful when it comes to new people. After she told me about Ghostface because it was a short topic in our course and not because she told me as a friend, I knew, okay. This friendship is nothing more than an an acquaintance, so why should I care Sam?" My legs were moving. I lightly bumped Sam on her shoulder to go past her but she grabbed me tightly by my arm and moved us so that I had to meet her eyes and my back faced the pizzeria.

"Because you care," she said bright. Confused, I looked at her. Her look was gentler than before and there was this glow.

"You may feel alone. And maybe you are... but you care. No matter how bad you are feeling. How the people around you are doing... you are someone who can feel how others are doing. And as much as you sometimes have to struggle with the darkness... you still care. Even if it hurts"

Why did it feel like a description of herself?

Were we both more similar than knew? I mean, we both went to the same therapist, maybe there was something to it. But what was Sam's problem? Also aggression? Mindy had never told me in detail what happened to all of them back then. She just said that the stab movies are based on true events and the murders of last year? Well she and her friends were involved.

Of course, I had watched all the stab films afterwards, but I couldn't imagine what must have happened to them.

"Go home. Take your time. But I hope that you come to the Blackmoore and try to find an answer for all this, together with us. You don't want to be a suspect, do you? So why not find out who is really behind it?"

She gave me a slight smile and left. Even after the taxi drove away, I was still starring on the same spot. Where did I get in there?

Damn Samantha Carpenter...

These feelings which you and your sister leave me behind are too much for me.

#jenna ortega #actress #fanfiction #ghostface #melissa barrera #samantha carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell #wednesday #wednsday addams #celebrity #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

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random-thot-generator · 9 months

Text

Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 7

(Frenemies/Tenderness AU)

SEVEN: Can't Let Go

SIMON GHOST RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

Summary: A week has passed since the argument in the alley, and Reader's hurt has been replaced with a seething anger that leads her to make a spur-of-the-moment decision out of spite. However, her poor choices lead to a potentially dangerous situation.

(PLEASE MIND THE TAGS. This chapter could be triggering for some readers.)

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bad Coping Mechanisms, Allusions to sex, Threat of dub/non-con sexual situation, Brief Violence - Reader's a scrapper, Threat of violence though not acted upon... yet, No use of Y/N

(Notes: Ngl, this was a bitch to write. I had no less than three other alternative versions of this chapter, before choosing this one, but thankfully had some help along the way. Massive props to @glitterypirateduck for the much-needed advice and input. I ended up leaving the badger out, babe, but I hope you like the chapter, regardless. 😉👍)

[Image via TENOR]

Word Count: 5020

Chapter 7

...I ain't tryna find fate, it's too late to save face I can't get away, maybe there's no mistakes

You break me, then I break my rules Last time was the last time too It's fucked up, I know, but I'm still

Outside of the party, smokin' in the car with you Seven Nation Army, fightin' at the bar with you Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do 'Cause I can't let go...

—Post Malone, 'Chemical'

The walk to work is nice.

Blue skies and tattered clouds arch overhead, the remnants of puddles from an early morning shower reflecting the first sun you've seen in days. The world smells fresh and green and new, the signs of spring brightening your mood. It makes you feel light, the first time in a week you've felt like lifting your head to look around.

The first time since your fight with Riley.

You push the thought away. You're not going there today. Not again. You worked through the worst of the hurt and disappointment, and now you've settled into a comfortable, quiet fury that you keep wrapped around you like a warm blanket when the chill of loneliness creeps into your bed at night. You don't miss him, you don't want him, and you sure as hell don't need him. He's just one more bitter lesson you've had to learn the hard way. You won't make the same mistake, again.

Well... not again, anyway.

A car beeps its horn behind you, and you glance back to see Jerry Finch, the lorry driver who delivers the kegs to the pub, waving at you from a black sports car. You give a half-hearted smile and wave back, your steps slowing when he steers his car to the curb.

His window rolls down, rap music thumping before he turns it down. Leaning on his arm in the open window, Jerry tips his chin down to look over his aviator sunglasses at you, a smooth half-smile on his lips. "How ya doin', Dee? Headin' to work?"

You nod, stepping closer to his car, trying to ignore the way he looks you up and down before meeting your gaze. He gives you an appreciative smile and ticks his eyebrows up, ever the flirt. You sniff in amusement and squint against the sun to see him better. "Morning, Jer." You nod at his car. "No lorry today. This your day off?"

He gives you a charming, almost boyish smile and nods. "Yeah. Had some business here in the village, though." He glances down towards the pub, then slants his gaze back to you, thumbing at his bottom lip. "I can give ya a lift, if ya like. Goin' that way, anyhow."

You hesitate but then nod in acceptance. It's just an acquaintance from work offering you a ride, nothing wrong with that. He smiles and motions for you to get in, once more letting his eyes wander over your figure while you settle yourself into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt.

"Thank you," you murmur, glancing up at him, then away. Jerry's never been one to hide his interest, taking every opportunity to flirt with you when given half a chance. Of course, it makes you feel good to have a handsome man flirt with you, but it also makes you a little leery, too. You try to be nice, but you don't want to encourage him, something that Fiona fusses about every chance she gets.

"Bloody hell, Dee, give the bloke a chance. He's got a good job, he's good lookin', fit as fuck, an' he's gaggin' t'get with ya. What can it hurt?"

Rationally, you know Fi is right, but you can't help yourself. There's just something about him. You can't put your finger on it but being near him just feels... off. You clear your throat and look out the window, your eyes catching on a dark gray Gladiator parked in front of the Tea Room.

Riley.

You can see him standing inside through the tall Georgian windows, chatting with Margie, the owner. She's handing him a bag and a to-go cup that you know will be filled with English breakfast tea brewed strong, with a splash of milk and two sugars, the way he likes. Your heart squeezes in your chest as you watch him exit the building and get in his truck.

Riley's been avoiding the pub when you're on shift. Fiona says he's been showing up in the evening, sitting in his usual spot while nursing his Dewar's. She also doesn't fail to mention Tessa Harker has been chatting him up quite a bit lately, too. It hurts to hear it, but you only give a tight smile and mutter, "Good for him," much to your friend's irritation.

Fiona and Ollie have both noticed the way you and Riley have been avoiding each other, but apparently Riley has kept mum about the argument, as have you. You had wondered if he would spread word about your other job at the Grind out of spite, but no one has mentioned it so far, and for that you're relieved, but you're still wary of what he might do with the information.

"So, what time ya gettin' off work?"

The question draws your attention back to the big man sitting beside you. Did he notice you staring, you wonder. "Um, I get off work at five."

"Then what?" he persists, and you know where this is going.

You shrug, keeping your eyes focused straight ahead. "Then back home, I suppose."

"Come out with me, instead," he suggests, shooting another one of his charming smiles your way. "There's a nice Italian bistro in Blackheath. I deliver to 'em. Nice place, good food."

"Oh, um, well..."

He chuckles and reaches over to pat your knee. "No rush, sweetheart. Got all day t'think it over, yeah?"

Again, the feeling that something is off with him comes to the fore of your brain, but you smile, regardless. "Yeah, sure. I'll... think about it," you reply, knowing your mind is already made up. You just have to think of a nice way to let him down. Again.

Jerry gives your knee another pat, which turns into a sly caress that has you flinching away. He huffs a laugh at your reaction, giving you a playful 'just-kidding' grin, before he lifts his hand and places it back on the wheel. He has big, beefy hands, thick fingers with blunt tips, a working man's hands. You usually find that attractive, have often admired Riley's large hands and long, supple fingers, but for some reason, the sight of Jerry's ham fists curled around the steering wheel makes you feel uncomfortable.

The car comes to a stop in front of the pub, and you're quick to unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. "Thanks for the ride, Jer," you say, one foot already resting on the pavement.

"Think nothin' of it, love. Glad t'give you a ride anytime," he murmurs, suggestion heavy in his tone. He flashes another smile at you, winking again. He does that a lot, and you find it annoying. "I'll stop by later, see if ya want to go out for dinner, yeah?"

"Y-Yeah, sure. Okay."

You get out of his car and sketch a little wave as he pulls away, then turn to head inside the pub, only to come up short. Riley's standing right in front of the entrance, arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes fixed on Jerry's car, which is now rounding the green.

"Friend o' yers?"

It's the first words he's said to you since last Sunday in the alley, and the way he says it instantly gets your hackles up. You square off with him, casting a disparaging look over him. The proper thing would have been to offer you an apology, but you know better than to expect anything like that from him. Instead, he leads with a question that sounds both accusatory and insulting, all at the same time.

Typical.

"Shouldn't you already know? That's what you're good at, isn't it? Keeping tabs on me?" you snap, glaring at him.

You make a point to bump his shoulder as you pass by him and enter the pub. He's on your heels in an instant, following you through the door, obviously irritated by your response. You ignore him as you round the bar, pulling the strap of your bag over your head before placing it on top of the bar to take out your phone and a paperback.

"Wot? Ya got nothin' else t'say, doll? Tha's not like ya."

Your eyes snap up to glare at him. "Thought we said all that needed to be said last Sunday," you hissed at him, trying to keep your voice down, knowing Ollie would be back in his office.

Simon plants both hands on the bar and leans in, his dark eyes scathing as they pin you to the spot. "I wasn't finished talkin'. It was you that fuckin' ran off," he growls in return, but manages to keep his voice to a low rumble.

Your brows shoot up in mock surprise. "Oh! How terribly rude of me. I suppose I should have stood there until you were finished insulting me." Your eyes narrowed as you sneered at him. "Fuck you for that, by the way."

He's wearing his black surgical mask today, so his angry scowl is more evident than usual. He shoves off the bar in a fit of temper, hand coming up to jab a finger at you. "Like I told ya last Sunday, me an' you need t'talk, an' this time yer goin' t'bloody listen to wha—"

Your snort cuts him off. "We have nothing left to discuss. You made your opinion of me quite clear. But hey! At least I know where I stand with you now. Don't worry, though. I'll keep my distance. Wouldn't want to embarrass you by being seen associating with a slag, right?"

"Dammit t'hell, Dee! I never fuckin' called ya that. I never thought that. Would ya just bloody lis—"

"Riley, lad!"

You both turn to see Ollie heading your way, a pleased smile on his face. Shooting Riley one last venomous glare, you turn your back on him and make for the swinging door leading into the kitchen, his frustrated growl giving you a sense of grim satisfaction as you slip through the door. Fuck him. You hope he stays pissed off for the rest of the day.

You can hear the two men talking as you go back to hang up your jacket, eyes wandering over the unused kitchen as you pass through. What you wouldn't give for a kitchen this size, and here this one sits, unused and abandoned. You had mentioned a time or two that adding a small menu would bring in more business, but since the last cook quit, Ollie hasn't been too keen to fire up the kitchen again. It's a pity, really.

"Dee, love."

You glance over your shoulder to see Ollie standing at the service window. "What'cha need, Ol?"

Mind makin' me an' Riley a cuppa an' bringin' 'em to the office?"

You frown, wondering what happened to the tea you had seen Riley with before. You shrug it off and nod. "Sure thing, Ol. Be right out with 'em."

"Thanks, love," he says, rapping his knuckles before disappearing from sight.

You rinse out the electric kettle and fill it with water, then plug it in and switch it on before grabbing three mugs and the tea tin. You consider making Riley's tea wrong, just for spite, but that would be petty, even for you, or as Riley would call it, bratty. You sniff. He's a fuckin' brat. A bratty arsehole.

You scoop instant coffee into your own mug then add the tea bags to the other two cups, before going to the fridge to take out the milk. It's become routine for you to make both men's tea, your hands going through the motions while your thoughts wander back to Jerry and his dinner invitation.

Your first instinct is to turn him down, as you have all his other invitations, but the memory of how pissed Riley looked as he watched the other man drive away gives you pause. He always did eye Jerry with open suspicion, his instant dislike of the other man never something he tried to hide. He's never said why he doesn't like Jerry, but it didn't change the fact that it would probably piss Riley off to learn you were going out to dinner with him.

Maybe you are petty after all, because now your mind has changed. You are going on a dinner date this evening after work.

Setting your mug of coffee in the window to retrieve later, you take the other two mugs with you out of the kitchen. Rounding the bar, you head towards the narrow hallway that leads to the bathrooms and Ollie's office, walking slower to not spill any of their tea. You can hear their voices through the door as you stop to announce your presence. It's Riley who opens the door for you, not bothering to move out of your way as you slide past him with an irritated expression.

"Move, ya big lump," you grumble lowly, which gets a soft sniff of amusement from him. Arsehole.

"Ah, thanks, love," Ollie says, reaching out to take his mug. You set Riley's on the edge of his desk near the old club chair where he always sits. "Mind closin' the door on yer way out?" Ollie asks.

You give a nod, turning around to see that Riley is still standing in your way. You go to step around him, and he steps in your way again. You blow out an aggravated breath and raise your eyes to his, the urge to shove him again making your hands twitch. When he quirks a brow up at you, you grit your teeth and glare at him. Then an idea sparks in your brain. You look back over your shoulder at your boss.

"Say, Ol. Ya mind if I cut out a little early this evening? I've got a dinner date with Jerry the lorry driver."

Ollie nearly chokes on his tea before he manages to get his cup set down on his desk. His sharp eyes dart between you and Riley, an odd expression on his face as he tries to make sense of what's going on. He finally clears his throat and gives a curt nod. "Yeah. Sure, love. No problem."

You give him a sweet smile that turns spiteful when you turn your head back to the man in front of you. "Thanks, Ol," you reply, meeting Riley's furious glare. "Excuse me. Need to get back to work."

You can see his hands balling into fists, and it sends a thrill of sadistic glee through you. You'd rather die than look away from him right now, a smirk appearing when he has to hold his tongue and step aside for you. By the time you reach the hallway and close the door behind you, you're damn near giddy. The smirk on your face grows to a full-on wicked grin by the time you reach the bar again.

Satisfied with the good, hard poke you've just given the proverbial bear, you begin your prep work, humming a catchy pop song under your breath.

You manage to avoid any more close interactions with Riley, though he hangs around the bar your entire shift, giving you a baleful glare every time you draw near. You make it a point to ignore him, chatting with the other customers, talking and laughing like you weren't bothered at all by his brooding presence. You see him visibly stiffen when Jerry comes swaggering in, his signature charming smile already in place.

Before he can speak, you step to the bar and offer him a sweet smile. "Hi, Jer. Ollie said I can leave early, so we can go whenever you like."

Jerry can't hide the surprise on his face, but he swiftly recovers as he leans an elbow on the bar to bring his eyes level with yours. "Good. Been thinkin' 'bout it all day," he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.

You stiffen, discomfited by the look in his eye, but try to hide it by ducking to grab your bag from beneath the bar. When you raise up again, a pleasant smile is plastered on your face. "I just need to grab my jacket and tell Ollie I'm leaving, then we can go."

"'Course, sweetheart," Jer replies, watching you as you round the bar and head for the hallway. He catches Riley staring at him and lifts his brows, giving him a smug little smirk, which you honestly think is stupid of him. Despite Jerry's size, you have no doubt Riley would mop the fucking floor with him. You roll your eyes. Men and their stupid bloody posturing.

The sooner you get this over with, the better. This game is quickly losing its appeal.

Jerry offers to take you home to change if you want, but you decline, honestly not comfortable with the idea of bringing him up to your flat. He seems a little perturbed when you turn down his offer but then shrugs and drives to Blackheath, instead.

As he said, the little bistro is nice, the food delicious. The conversation is lackluster, though, but you weren't really expecting much. Beyond talking about himself, Jerry doesn't seem to hold much interest in other topics. Big surprise.

Once you're back in the car, he drapes his arm over your seat and leans in, a sexy smirk on his face. "So, where to next, sweetheart? Your place or mine?"

Your brows shoot up in mild surprise. "I thought this was just dinner," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. "Moving a little fast, don't you think?"

He tips his chin down, giving you a knowing look. "C'mon, Dee. We're both adults here. I've seen how you an' that other barmaid check me out. Not that I'm complainin'." He gives you one of his smarmy winks, and you fight the urge to wrinkle your nose in disdain.

You sniff and give your head a small shake. The audacity of this bloke. Did he honestly think you were just going to drop your knickers because he bought you dinner? "Yeah, I think I'd rather go home by myself. I have work in the morning."

Jerry draws back, blinking. "Are you serious?" When you roll your eyes, he scoffs and tilts his nose up, as if he can't believe you are turning him down. "Whatever. Your loss, sweetheart," he mutters with a slight sneer and starts the car.

The drive back to Banfield is tense and awkward, but you honestly prefer the silence. When Jer finally speaks up, you startle out of your thoughts. "Mind if I take a shortcut?" he asks, his tone off-hand.

You shrug. "Fine with me." If it gets you home quicker, you're all for it.

Yet when he veers off the main road onto a country lane, you frown. You aren't familiar with this particular backroad, but from the direction you're going it doesn't look like you're heading towards home.

"Are you sure this goes to Banfield?"

Jer slants a condescending look at you, a shitty little smirk pulling up a corner of his mouth. "I drive for a livin', sweetheart. Ya really think I'm goin' t'get lost on the way to bloody Banfield?"

Your eyes roll up, but you hold your tongue, yet after another five minutes with nothing even closely resembling civilization in sight, you can't keep quiet. "We should be in Banfield by now. It's just a ten-minute drive from Blackheath. Are you sure you took the right road?" You glance around at the dark, unfamiliar landscape. "I don't even know where the hell we are right now."

"I took the scenic route," Jer drawls, waving a hand. He then drops it on your knee and gives it a squeeze. "Chill out, sweetheart. We'll get there. Eventually."

Apprehension creeps up your spine like the drag of an icy finger. You don't like this. This man, who you really know nothing about, you now realize, is driving you out to the middle of nowhere. "Maybe you should turn around."

Jerry glances over at you again, and this time the look in his eye makes the small hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Maybe you should try to relax." His hand slides up your leg to grip your thigh. "I'd be happy t'pull over an' help ya with that, sweetheart."

And there it is. The reason for getting you out here alone. You aren't even really surprised, always knowing in the back of your mind that there was something off with him, though you chose to ignore it this time, just to spite Riley.

Hindsight really is a bitch sometimes.

"Jer, I told you I wanted to go home," you murmur, trying to keep your voice low and even.

He huffs, a smug expression on his face. "C'mon, Dee. Stop playin' hard t'get. It's jus' me an' you now. Your boyfriend doesn't have t'know. I can keep my mouth shut. It'll be our little secret, yeah?"

"My boyfriend?" you blurt out, confused.

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, right. Sorry. Your friend," he sneers and then scoffs. "Don't act like ya don't know who I'm talkin' 'bout. That scarred up freak with the mask who's always up yer arse."

"What the fuck did you just say?" you choke out, fury strangling your voice. You're ready to claw out his eyes for what he said about Riley.

Jerry waves a dismissive hand at you. "Enough with the games, Dee. I know ya only went out with me t'make him jealous, an' I'm fine with that, really, but don't ya think I deserve some sort of... ya know, compensation for playin' along?"

Rage consumes you, hot and prickling beneath your skin. "Take me home. Now!"

The cold, flat look in his eye chills you to the bone. "Not 'til I get what ya owe me, sweetheart. Don't look so offended. I doubt this is the first time you've paid up for somethin' by lyin' on your back."

The hard slap you deliver to his smug face has him swerving across the narrow road before he slams on the brakes, sluing the car around in the loose gravel. You only manage to free your seatbelt before he grabs you.

"Are ya fuckin' crazy, ya bitch?" he yells in your face, shaking you hard as he shoves you back against your door. "Ya could'a killed us!"

You jab your thumb in his eye for his trouble. He bellows in pain, releasing you to clutch at his face, freeing you to reach behind your back to paw at the latch. The door flies open under your weight and dumps you out backwards onto the gravel. When his hand seizes your ankle in a crushing grip, you frantically kick out with your other foot. Though you're unable to see from your position on the ground, you revel in a brief moment of satisfaction when you feel it make solid contact with his head, and he yells in pain again. Yanking your legs free of the car, you scramble to your feet, snatching your bag from the ground as you sprint for the woods.

Too terrified to look back, you run headlong into the tree line. You stumble through the undergrowth, feeling the spindly branches and thorns tear at your clothes and snag in your hair as it rakes bloody scratches into your exposed skin. You trip over tree roots and stub your toes on stones hidden beneath the moldering ground cover of dead leaves. All the while, Jerry is bellowing like an enraged bull as he thrashes through the foliage somewhere behind you, shouting threats and curses at you the whole time.

When you inevitably fall flat on your face, you skid across the forest floor to hitch up at the base of a huge oak. You have just enough time to crawl behind its massive trunk before Jerry comes crashing through. When you hear him approach, you clap your hand over your nose and mouth to muffle the sound of your gasping breaths, terrified he will hear you. Your eyes go wide when you see him pass by your hiding spot close enough that you could reach out and touch him, if you wanted. Scared beyond reason, you press your back against the rough bark of the oak and pray he doesn't see you when he pans the flashlight on his cell phone around.

A strangled noise issues from his throat before he growls out a frustrated, "Fuuuck!" You can see him pacing back and forth as he rakes his hands through his hair. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was panicking. "Crazy fuckin' bitch," you hear him seethe under his heaving breath, growling again. "Fine, ya stupid cunt!" he shouts at the dark woods, throwing his arms up in the air. "Find yer own way home, then!" He then turns around and stomps back the way he came, still uttering curses.

You don't dare move, not even when the sound of his heavy footfalls fades away. You don't dare move, not even when the only thing you can hear is the wind rattling the tree branches overhead. You don't dare move, not until you at last hear the distant sound of a car motor rev to life, the sound gradually diminishing until you can't hear it any longer. It is only then that you are brave enough to slowly stand up on your shaking legs, only to lean once more on the trunk for support as a sob finally tears free from your chest.

You remain that way for several minutes, trying desperately to regain your composure, even as your brain keeps circling around the notion that Jerry's departure is some sort of ruse to lure you back out into the open. It's the idea of spending a cold night alone in the woods that finally has you lifting your head to take in your surroundings and evaluate your situation.

At first glance, it seems pretty dire. You have no idea where you are, you're too scared to venture back onto road for fear of Jerry lying in wait somewhere, and it's pitch dark out tonight, not even the wan light of the moon visible in the overcast sky to help guide you through the woods.

Your only real option is to call for help.

Reaching into your bag, you take out your phone, cursing under your breath when you drop it due to your trembling hands. The glow of the screen is a small comfort as you unlock your phone and open your contacts list. You stare at the emergency number, finger hovering.

If you call the police, there will have to be a report filed, and then there will be an inquiry to investigate your claims. You already know it will be your word against Jerry's. His solicitors will no doubt drag your name through the mud to discredit you, and he will probably still get off with nothing more than a light slap on the wrist, if he even gets that, because he actually didn't do anything to you, at least not physically. Hell, you had done more damage to him than he had to you. He could claim you attacked him, and he wouldn't even be lying.

You look back down at your phone, one name standing out like a beacon in the dark. When you see that name, you think of home, of safety, the two things you want most right now. You select it and hit the call button, holding the phone up to your ear and praying there will be an answer. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the line connect.

"Whad'ya want, Dee?" a gravelly, annoyed voice growls into your ear, and a sob escapes your throat, you are so relieved to hear him.

"Ruh... Riley? P-Please, Ri... please. I n-need you..."

No one in the White Dog knew what to think when the usually quiet giant that sat at the end of the bar suddenly erupted out of his seat, the bar chair toppling over. "Doll! What's wrong? Where are ya?" he barks into his phone.

He apparently doesn't like what he hears.

"He fuckin' did what?! " he growls, a look of pure murderous rage igniting in his dark eyes. As he listens to you, however, his rage is tempered by his troubled concern. "Are ya hurt, love? I swear t'God if he―" His hand clenches into a trembling fist, even though his voice is now a low rumble. "Please don't cry, love. I know, I know, but I'll find ya. Ya know I will. I'm on my way right now. Just... keep yer phone on for me, yeah?"

He's already making for the entrance as he says this, the murderous look returning as he mutters, "I'll kill that bastard," before he barges through the door. He hits it with such force, it slams into the outside wall hard enough to shatter the frosted safety glass. He doesn't even acknowledge it as he runs to his truck and tears off down the street with a bark of tires the next instant, leaving a silent pub full of stunned onlookers in his wake.

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