#like I know I shouldn’t resent her but I do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursingtoji · 9 months

Note

11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK

One Bed + Hate Sex

⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™

note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy

“It's been a while” Satoru greets.

One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.

After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.

You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

“Indeed.”

The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right?

“How've you been?” he asks politely.

“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.

“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.

“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.

“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.

Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.

The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.

“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.

“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.

“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.

“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.

“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.

“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.

“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.

“We'll take it” he says.

“Wait, just one?” you intervene.

“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”

“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.

“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.

“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.

“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.

Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.

“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.

Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.

“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.

“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.

“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.

Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.

Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.

> did you arrive well? Xx

Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?

Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.

“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.

“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.

“Who’s he? Huh?”

“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.

“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.

“None, get off of me”.

“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.

“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.

“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.

“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.

Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.

Fuck, he missed you so much.

You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.

You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.

“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.

Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.

“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”

Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.

“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.

Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.

“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.

“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.

“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.

“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.

“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.

You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.

“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.

“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.

“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.

“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.

“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.

You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.

“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.

“What was that?”

“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.

“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.

You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”

“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.

“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning while a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.

“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice.

see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #— the cliches ™

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munsonsreputation · 3 months

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i can't talk to you when i'm like this

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.1K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)

summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.

You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.

Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.

He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.

“Why are you making it such a big deal?”

His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.

Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.

“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”

Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.

This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.

He knows he messed up.

It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.

It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.

You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.

Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.

“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.

The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.

The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.

“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”

The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’

All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.

He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.

Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.

“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.

There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.

No one gets it… but Steve does.

“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.

The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.

“I’m fine, Steve!”

Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.

He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.

“Baby,”

Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”

He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.

Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.

It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.

You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.

One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.

“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.

Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.

He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.

Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.

You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.

“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.

He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.

Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.

“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,

Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.

But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.

“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.

But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”

You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.

You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.

“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.

“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”

You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”

Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.

Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.

“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.

It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.

“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.

“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.

When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.

“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”

“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“

He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”

Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.

Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.

“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.

His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.

“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.

Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”

“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.

He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.

His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.

“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.

His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.

“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”

He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.

“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”

Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.

The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.

It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.

But Steve gives you everything and so much more.

A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.

When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.

He’s everything you could have asked for and more.

You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.

“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.

He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.

That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.

His love.

“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.

You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”

“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.

You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.

“I know, I love you too.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

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maybankswhore · 9 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑.

summary: rafe overhears you talking to sarah about your feelings and wants to take care of you.

warnings: mentions of depression and anxiety , rafe eavesdropping , little bit of swearing

You sighed at Sarah’s hand rubbing your back comfortingly as your face hid itself in your hands to hide your puffy eyes and red cheeks. You looked like a mess— and you felt how you looked. Everything just seemed so overwhelming , and there was such much pressure on you from your family. There were so many feelings that you kept inside because you hadn’t wanted to feel like a burden.

“I’m just so tired all the time.” You ranted to Sarah , wiping underneath your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m always so tired and so , so sad. Nothing seems to make it go away. I always feel this. . . this impending doom over me like something bad’s gonna happen. Like I’m going to fail and disappoint everyone.”

Sarah frowned. She definitely related that feeling and tried her best to figure out the right way to help you. Frowning , you pushed some hair away from your face. “Have you tried talking to Rafe?” Her face twisted up at the mention of her brother , but making sure to quickly wipe it away. Despite her own personal feelings towards him , Sarah knew that Rafe was good to you. The relationship he had with you was probably his only saving grace.

You shook your head at her. “No because Rafe’s not. . .” you struggled to find the right words. “Rafe shouldn’t have to deal with me like this. He already has so much on his own plate that a sad , depressing girlfriend should be the least of his worries. And I know he doesn’t like to see me cry because he feels too bad if he can’t make it stop.” You didn’t resent Rafe for not being the best person to talk to. You knew why he struggled with it and your stress shouldn’t fall onto his shoulders. You’d feel guilty adding on to everything else Rafe dealt with.

“Look I’m not the biggest fan of my brother,” Sarah muttered under her breath. “But I know that he cares about you , Y/N and he would want to be there for you. He’s your boyfriend—” she emphasized. “It’s kinda what he signed up for.”

As you cried , Rafe loomed around Sarah’s door. He didn’t want to eavesdrop , but he couldn’t stop himself from being concerned when he noticed your sniffles floating from the small crack in the door. Rafe wasn’t one to pry too much , too afraid it’d push you away. He felt his chest grow heavy as he listened to you vent to Sarah , hating you felt that way. He wanted to take every negative and sad thing in your brain and pluck it away. Store somewhere impossible to find and never feel again.

Pursing his lips , Rafe sighed as he knocked on the door softly to signal that someone was there. He lightly peaked around it , focusing on you. “Hey , baby. I’m home.” He smiled at you gently , feeling determined to try and be what you needed. Rafe wasn’t good at feelings but he would do anything for you and try again until he did it right.

You plastered on a fake smile when you saw him. Your heart warmed up just a little bit more at your boyfriend , feeling antsy to be in his arms. You mumbled a quick ‘thanks , sar’ before tapping her shoulder to walk out.

She gave you a smile in return , hoping that things would get better for you soon.

Rafe’s arm immediately snaked around your waist and pulled you to him and leading you down the hall. You tried your best to act normal , hoping that it was dark enough to conceal the mess you were sure painted across your face.

He waited until the door of his room closed before speaking. “You were crying.” Rafe’s thumb swiped underneath your cheekbone , a frown on his face.

“I know.” You whispered back. You grabbed his hand and kept it on your cheek , eyes fluttering closed at his touch. “’m was just sad for minute.”

“Sweet baby.” Rafe sighed , being gentle with his touch and words. His eyelashes fluttered against the apples of your cheeks when he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your face. “What’s wrong?”

As if his words were a trigger , tears started falling down your face. You threw your arms around his neck and just cried , shamelessly. You weren’t thinking of sounding stupid or crying in an ugly way. You weren’t embarrassed and you weren’t feeling guilty. You just cried. It felt good to finally feel it and not try and disguise it with other things. It felt good to feel Rafe’s arms tighten around you , the coos of him healing something deeply rooted in your soul.

You just wanted to feel comforted , and loved.

Rafe held you tightly as you did so , rocking you back and forth. The two of you stood there in the middle of the room with the only sound being the way you sobbed loudly in the crook of his neck. You didn’t even know what words could explain how you felt , so you didn’t even bother trying.

“My sweet girl,” Rafe mumbled into your hair. “Lay down with me.”

He easily slid the two of you backwards , quickly kicking off his shoes to get onto the bed. He left the covers tucked , his work clothes on— something he’d never allow any other time. All Rafe cared about was holding you so you didn’t feel so alone.

You let him move you towards the bed. He laid down flat while gripping at your hips , pulling you to straddle him. A sigh of contentment left your lips as you laid down , chest to chest , with your cheek against his cheek. It was so close that you felt the warmth of his breath on the side of your neck , sending shivers down your spine with each exhale. It was suffocatingly close— and just what you needed.

His hands rubbed your back as you calmed down , laying there next to him. The sound of his breathing was like a lullaby , shushing your nerves to sleep as you listened to it carefully. Your breathing pattern began to mimic his and you almost mistaked Rafe Cameron as some sort of drug you were warned about at school assembly’s.

“Thank you.” You breathed , after what seemed like hours of just laying there compared to the minutes it actually was. “I’ve just felt so overwhelmed lately. And everything’s making me sad. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Rafe stopped you , craning his neck down to look at you. He stared into your ears with scrunched brows , a finger to your chin. “Don’t ever apologize to me for that.”

“Okay.” You mumbled back. You grabbed his hand to kiss his thumb.

“It’s what I signed up for.” Rafe breezed it in , hoping you wouldn’t be mad at him. The air becoming light hearted when you rolled your eyes playfully and smacked his chest.

“You’re such a jerk!”

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justagirlwholikesadam · 11 months

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Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Let me know if you enjoy this. Likes and comments are appreciated. Enjoy -L

Warning: NSFW, being the it girl, Joffrey being Joffrey, Robert is nice to us, manipulation at its finest, daddy's girl, princess wants princess gets, territorial!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It was a miracle.” Robert Baratheon, your father told you. You had survived the horrid fever that took your twin brother away. It was a secret that was kept among the Lannisters and only Robert. While Cersei was in mourning of the loss of her son, Robert’s was cut short. Cersei always resented him for that and that he gave you his undivided attention. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew how Robert adored you. Some had even said that he loves you more than his own wife, Cersei and as you grew, he practically gave you whatever your heart desired. Your father wasn’t the only one to give you gifts. Fur straight from House Stark, jewels and the finest dresses from House Martell. Seafood freshly caught by House Greyjoy. The list of gifts went on and on. You were named the realm’s delight among the people.

When Robert learned about the nickname that you have been given he feared that you will have the same fate as Lyanna Stark. Robert decided to do what was best, keep you protected at all times. Robert declared for Sandor Clegane to become your personal guard. Cersei had cried out to Robert about it. He is a monstrosity and hideous beast, she ranted. You heard of the Clegane’s brothers. Lord Baelish always been somewhat kind enough to keep you up to date about the accomplishments Ser Gregor had done along with Sandor’s.

“A flower like you shouldn’t be guarded by such an animal.” Lord Baelish exclaimed as his wandering eyes looked up and down that you. You grabbed a hold of his hands. Lord Baelish blushed from the sudden contact.

“I will grow to be the most beautiful flower because of that animal.” You whispered to Lord Baelish who honestly wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying.

You were so close to him, his mind was in the gutters. Rolling your eyes when you turn away to leave Lord Baelish, you wipe your hands on your dress while walking away from him. Men, they will always think with their cock. Cersei had told you after she had too many cups of wine. Your uncle, Jamie had laughed at her and tried to take her back to her chambers before she said anything else. That’s how you used Lord Baelish to tell you about the gossip going around. A praise, batting your eyelashes at him or giving him a smile was all needed for him to tell you what you wanted to know.

When Sandor was presented to you for the first time, you were surprised. He was the second tallest man you ever seen, his brother was the first. He had lowered his head as he entered the chambers so he wouldn’t hit the door frame. Robert had taken your hand and pulled you towards Sandor. You noticed Sandor had the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen. Brown, like the earth and as the light hit his eyes, they looked like honey. You got a closer look when he knelt in front of you and vowed to keep you safe. You knew about the story of his burn scars. It took you an afternoon with Lord Baelish, drinking tea to learn about it. You had taken a liking to Sandor when he became your guard. He was too silent for your liking but that meant you had to break his walls down.

Sandor stood and waited with you outside of your mother’s chambers. She was going to give birth to her second child. Sandor had mumbled to you to keep still since you kept walking back and forth, worried every time you heard your mother’s screams. You were about to say something when the screams stopped. Joffrey was born, and he was healthy. King Robert had his heir to the iron throne. Cersei had two other children after that and your relationship with her became unsteady. Sandor would cast a look at you whenever someone mentioned to you about Joffrey’s and your siblings' golden locks as they grew. You gave them a smile and answered. “They have been blessed with the Lannister’s golden hair.”

He knew you weren’t an idiot, he ignored when people said you were and sometimes when in a bad mood he slayed them whenever they expressed their opinions about it to him loudly. All beauty but nothing in your head. He wanted to tell them how wrong they were. He had spent hours with you in the dusty library of the castle. Seen you excelled in your studies. The winning smile you gave them disappears the moment they leave your sight.

“Something to say, my beloved Sandor?” The tips of Sandor’s ears grew hot by your affectionate words. You had a habit of calling him all sorts of names after both of you grew closer. You didn't want to admit it to Sandor but you like seeing him squirm after calling him those sweet names.

“No, princess.” He croaked out when you gave a cheeky smile. He immediately looked down at the ground.

“Do you think father will ever notice?” You ask Sandor and he looks back at you. You were being serious.

Sandor shook his head, no. “Maybe if he stops drinking and catches a break from his whores, I reckon he might see it. Unfortunately I can’t say anything. As much as father loves me more, I fear I will be punished if I say it.”

Sandor was right you weren’t the dumb princess everyone seems to think. As the time passed, Joffrey and the rest of your siblings grew; it's been nearly 16 years. You had finally managed to get out of a marriage proposal that your father mentioned to you. Sandor was waiting outside as he heard your voice behind your father’s chambers door. He couldn’t help but grin when he heard the hearty laughter from the King.

“Thank you, father. I knew you would be able to understand. That’s why you are the most wonderful King to ever live.” Sandor heard you say before walking out.

Sandor watched as you shut the door behind you and pointed at the staircase nearby. Sandor looked around his surroundings, making sure no one was in sight. He walked a few steps down and turned to see you walking towards him. He lets out a huff when you jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Seven hells.” Sandor cursed when kissed his cheek, attacking him with kisses. Sandor moved to capture your lips with his.

“I take it. It went well.” Sandor said, pulling you close to him. You nodded with a grin.

“Father can be very kind when he’s drunk out of his mind.” You told him as he put you down on the steps. Both of you froze at the sound of Joffrey’s voice, he was coming up the steps. Sandor immediately took a few steps away from you.

“Oh look, it’s my dear sister.”

“Hello, my dear brother.” You greeted Joffrey in the same sarcastic tone. The blonde stood a few steps down from you with Ser Meryn Trant behind him.

“Dog.” Joffrey said. “My-.”

“You mean Sandor.” You cut Sandor off. Your harsh tone wiped the smirk off Joffrey's face. You crossed your arms over your chest. This was an ongoing thing. Joffrey would call Sandor a dog to get a rise out of you.

“His name is Sandor. Have you forgotten?” Joffrey can’t help but smile wickedly at you. It irritated you, Joffrey grew to be more ill and filled with a horrible attitude. He was a spoiled child, that’s all you had to say about your brother. His words and remarks were vile and you wouldn’t stand for it especially when it came to Sandor or to your servants.

“He’s a dog, my dear sister. There’s no changing that. He is The Hound.”

“You’re a dog as well. You even act like one and yet people still call you prince.” You answered back.

“You little-.” Meryn Trant stopped mid sentence when he saw Sandor walking down the steps to get next to you.

“Finish what you were saying. I fucking dare you.” Sandor threatens Meryn Trant and gives him a cold stare down. Sandor’s reputation grew as the years passed. Killer, monster, perhaps even worse than his brother, the names and the fear of fighting against him grew. They all knew no one is safe when he’s protecting you.

“You are so kind to the people below us.” Joffrey said, making your eyes roll. You wished for the day when Joffrey realized that he is a bastard. It was called a rumor but you knew the truth. Cersei has always been a bit sloppy when she was drunk. You had seen your mother and your uncle, Jamie getting cozy.

“I will be so heartbroken when you finally leave King’s Landing and join those filthy people from Drone.” You smile at your brother. Plans have been changed.

“I’m surprised that you know about my marriage proposal with Drone.” You said knowing him and your mother had conspired this marriage proposal.

“Let me be the one to deliver this good news to you, dear brother.” Joffrey frowned as you approached him closer.

“There is no need to be heartbroken, for I am staying. There is no proposal.” Joffrey's blonde brows rose up and his shocked expression turned into an angry one.

“It must be hard not being father’s favorite.” You whispered.

This dispute, the rivalry between you and brother began when he was able to see how Robert favored you more. He reached out for Robert but Robert was busy being King or being drunk. Joffrey was always envious of you, you had your father wrapped around your finger along with the entire realm while you got cheered and praised. He got concerned looks from the people of King's Landing.

“Shall we go, Sandor? Agatha said she was preparing chicken for prandium.” You looked over at Sandor who nodded at you.

“Yes, princess.” Passing by Joffrey, you ignored the look from Mery Trant. Sandor bowed his head to Joffrey and followed you. You can hear Sandor’s heavy footsteps behind you as you continue to hold your front. You wouldn’t let Joffrey know that his little plan to get rid of you didn’t work. Thanks to Lord Baelish and Lord Varys who gave you a heads up about it again, this wasn’t the first time. Joffrey wanted to get rid of you again and now he had even gotten your mother to play along.

Night came and you welcomed the warmth Sandor provided you. Even though the weather of King’s Landing was already warm you still preferred the heat from Sandor’s body.

“I heard something.” Sandor spoke after a moment of silence. You played with the soft hair on his chest while you laid your head on his arm, his arms tightening around you.

“Speak, Sandor.” You softly said, growing anxious every passing second.

“The servants overheard Joffrey asking Cersei about taking me as his own guard.” You raised your head off his arm and looked down at him.

“What?”

“He wants me as his guard.” Sandor answered you. You shook your head.

“That little cunt.” You whispered under your breath and you realized Sandor wasn’t even looking at you. He kept staring up at the ceiling of your chambers. His eyes had become dull and his face was emotionless. Pushing the sheets off your body, you moved to sit in his lap. Paying no attention to the soreness between your legs, you felt him hold on to your legs as you cupped his face with both hands.

“He won’t take you away from me.” Sandor let out a strain chuckle.

He knew what he had with you won’t last. He had made a promise to himself when he first met you. He wouldn't fall in love with you but he broke it. He was utterly in love with you after being your guard for many years. He had convinced himself in the beginning of your relationship that you guys can be together but reality was hitting him straight in the face, you were a princess and he was just a second born son. You would be married to someone else, someone better. You would leave him.

“I swear it.”

“Might be for the best if I do switch. It will be for the best.” Sandor said, making you frown.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to watch you marry some lord or a king and give him kids.” Sandor traced the skin of your legs as he spoke.

“Your father won’t decline the next marriage proposal. He did it for the last two but not the third one. He won’t, I know it. The realm wants to see you married and have children. If I keep guarding you and you get married, I’ll kill your husband.” Sandor said sincerely. You dropped your hands from his face and brought it down to his chest.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

Sandor’s jaw clenched and his eyes grew hard. “Yes or no?”

“You know I do. I have killed for you.” Sandor responded with no remorse. He had spilled blood for you and had lost count on how many people he killed to protect you and your honor.

“If you love me then never say those words again. Promise me?! Promise me that you won’t say that it’s best.”

Sandor said your name softly but you yelled at him. “Swear it to me! Please.”

Sandor nodded, raising his hand up to cup your cheek when he saw you on the verge of tears. He couldn’t bear seeing you cry. You grabbed on to his wrist, kissing his palm.

“I promise. I swear it.” He told you. You leaned down to kiss him. Enjoying the tender moment with him, there were a few times when Sandor showed his soft side with you. It was mostly in bed, both of you would be wrapped around each other and sometimes the aftermath of many orgasms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He told you and you began to kiss him harder moving your hips, your cunt humping against his cock. Whining loudly when you felt him pull you to his chest and wrap an arm around you. His free hand touches your bare ass. Sandor takes a deep breath as he feels how warm and wet you are.

“I won't let Joffrey take you away from me. I have a plan.”

Sandor’s hand freezes on your ass and looks down at you.

“A plan?” You nodded as you pressed a kiss on his chest.

“Yes. You’re mine, Sandor. No one is going to take you away from me.” Your words were like a shot of adrenaline to him. He gripped your ass harder, he wanted to believe you.

He didn't want to ruin this moment with a fight. He wanted to remember this night with you incase this would be the last night he gets to spent with you. Naked and curled up together. He wanted to enjoy it, so he moved to his side, taking you with him. Facing each other now, Sandor drapes your leg over his waist, your right arm under his head while his arm goes under you. In a thirst position, he can hold you close to him. You bump his nose softly and kiss his scared cheek. He gripped your waist pulling you closer to him.

You shut your eyes and moan when his thick fingers touch your slit. Gather the reminiscence of your cum and his dripping from your hole and rub it on along the swollen lips of your cunt. The tip of his fingers gliding over your clit making you cry out, your cunt was sensitive from earlier. Your toes curled up and legs tensed up when you felt his finger inside of you.

“Fuck.” He groans as he holds you close to him. Moaning his name as you felt him finger you for a moment. He shifted and moved your legs higher so he had room.

“Sandor.” You cry out his name as he slips inside of you. You held on to his arms as he gripped your waist while pumping into you.

His face hidden between your neck and shoulder, you can feel his hand on your back, nails digging into your skin. You held on for dear life as you heard him growl against your skin.

“I’ll kill him, Y/n.” He moans to you as he fucks you, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. His thrust was growing faster and harsher. The thought of you married with some prince made him angry. Even if people didn't know, you were his and he would keep it that way.

“You hear me?” He said with a moan. He moves his face towards you. You nod at him letting out a pitched whine when he hits that sweet spot.

“You belong with me. You’re mine.” You kissed him trying to mask your moans but nothing in the world would mask the squelching sound of your pussy being fucked.

Sandor held on to you as he moved his hips back and forward. He feels his balls tighten when he feels you cum on him, you’re trembling, skin slick with sweat. Sandor is grunting as he manhandles you. Your hands are on him, touching him, you can feel the muscles and his scars from his battles on his back and his arms.

Sandor cries your name and you shut your eyes as he presses his hips against you, slamming his cock deep inside of you. His hand on your hips goes down your ass, cups your cheek. He squeezes it as he cums deep inside of you. You whimper feeling stuff, your pussy keeps clenching and unclenching around him. He shifts his hips and you moan at the feeling of your clit being ticked by his pubic hair.

You feel his lips on your cheek, pressing soft kisses as he huffs out of breath.

“Sandor.” You whispered as you nuzzled against his face. You didn’t mind the feeling of the scars against your face, you kept close to him enjoying the aftermath of your orgasm.

You didn’t want this to end, you wouldn’t allow it. Sandor was yours first, Sandor belongs to you just as much you belong to him. You weren’t going to give him up without a fight.

Morning came and you were woken by your ladies in waiting. The flock of ladies knocked and waited for you outside to respond. You rose up, finding yourself alone. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and invited them inside. One by one they walked inside, picking up the sheets from the floor, one went to your closet to get your clothes for the day and one opened the doors to the balcony.

“Here, my princess.” The eldest came by you after you covered yourself with your robe. You thanked her for the tea and waited patiently while one warmed your bath water.

One of the ladies was brushing your hair after your bath. They stopped when there was a knock on the door, opening the door. Sandor came walking in, he had a concerning look on his face.

“Good morrow, princess. The king demands your presence in his chambers at once.”

You walked to your father’s chambers with Sandor behind you. He sensed how nervous you were. Before going around the hall, you felt Sandor grab your arm. He gently pulled you back. You were pushed softly against the wall. Sandor stood in front of you, towers over you as he looked down at you.

“Worried?” You whispered to him. You feel one of his hands cup your face.

Sandor doesn’t reply, he simply presses his lips against yours. “Go on.” He tells you and steps away from you.

Sandor has a habit of never expressing his feelings out loud. Sandor followed you quietly. He wasn’t worried at all, he was scared and he hasn’t felt this way since he was a child when Gregor disfigured him.

You walked down the hall and came to a halt when you saw Ser Meryn Trant standing outside of your father’s chamber. It meant that Joffrey was inside. You felt bile rise up. Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath to calm your nervousness.

Meryn Trant saw you and opened your father’s chamber door for you. You looked over your shoulder and gave Sandor a look of nervousness. You took one last look of his brown eyes. It calms you for a moment and you’re able to walk inside your father’s chamber. You noticed Joffrey sitting down along with your mother while your father sat behind his desk. The door shut behind you as you walked towards your father.

“Mother. Brother.” You greeted them and walked next to your father. You leaned down to kiss one of his pudgy cheeks. Robert gave you a smile and greeted you. You can smell the wine coming off your father.

“Sit, we have been waiting. Joffrey and your mother wish to discuss something with us.”

You sat on the empty seat next to your mother. “Joffrey has told me that he would like Sandor as his personal guard.” Your mother said.

So this was about Sandor. “What's wrong with Ser Meryn Trant?” You asked Joffrey.

Joffrey wasn't expecting for you to say something. He thought you would obey instantly. You stare at Joffrey, you weren't going to let Sandor slip away from you. You were going to fight for him.

Joffrey looked over at his father who was also staring at him. “Well, since Y/n is going off in Dorne. I want Sandor.”

“I'm not going to Dorne. I told you.” Joffrey clenched his jaw.

“You had refused your last marriage proposal. Father, are you going to accept this?” Joffrey asked Robert.

“She isn't going to Dorne.” Robert said, making Cersei sit up. “Why not?” She asked him.

“You dare to question me, woman.” Robert eyed Cersei.

“Our daughter has not been wed, people will talk.”

“You think I care what people say about her. She is my daughter. My word is law and final. She won't be shipped to Dorne.”

You dislike how sometimes your father would speak to your mother. Robert was a down right misogynist but when it came to you he was different. You knew it had to do with Lyanna Stark, everyone told you how there was a resemblance between you and her. It was confirmed when Ned Stark and his family came to King's Landing to celebrate your name day. Ned couldn't take his eyes off of you and had even stuttered his sister's name after drinking with your father.

You felt bad for Ned after so many years the death of his sister still had a hold over him just like Robert. He had begged forgiveness to you the next day. “Nonsense. No need to forgive, Lord Stark.”

“He’s a good man.” Sandor told you after Ned left. You had finished a walk with Ned in the garden after you told him if it would be alright to share some stories about Lyanna. He gave you a smile and accepted. You learned a lot about her and intend to use this information.

“He is.” You replied to him.

“It will get him killed one of these days.” Sandor’s words made you sad. You didn't want to see the Lord of Winterfell dead. Unlike Joffrey and your mother, you enjoy their presence and have grown fond of his wife, Catelyn.

“Our daughter should have been married and had babies by now. We can use her as an advantage, a leverage.” Cersei stood up from her seat and walked to the corner of the room where the cart of wines and cups were at.

“I believe it has to be that atrocious dog always behind her. His face scares off any suitors. She will be married soon and doesn’t need him anymore.”

“He protects me, mother.” You said folding your hands on your lap. Cersei looked over her shoulder at you. You looked over at your father because at the end of the day, he has the last day.

“Father, remember the riot. Those men would have killed me. Sandor was there and killed them all. He killed those men.” Robert nodded remembering all too well about that horrible riot that broke out.

You stood up from your seat and walked towards the desk. You kneel down near your father ignoring the tsk sound from Joffrey. You decided if Joffrey and your mother wanted to play dirty. So will you.

“I do not wish the same fate as the lovely Lyanna Stark. May she be at peace.” Your father’s eyes shifted at the mention of Lyanna.

“I know. I have refused two marriage proposals now but I must tell you the truth, Sandor didn’t trust them. He had seen him, heard them speak ill behind my back.” You knew the words you were about to say will be a low blow to your mother and it will create a shift between you two but you had to do it. You didn’t want Joffrey to have Sandor. Sandor Clegane is yours.

“You might think this is ridiculous, father.” You grabbed your father’s hand.

“I want to be loved. The type of love you and Lyanna shared. Ned told me stories about your love with her and it warmed my heart. I crave for that love you both shared.” You flinched at the sound of Cersei throwing her cup of wine to the ground and walked out of the room. No one said anything for a moment. You just watched as the red wine from Drone stained the carpeted rug. This was your chance, your moment to seal it. Joffrey won’t take Sandor away from you.

Sandor stood straight up when he saw the queen running out of the room. The door was opened and he looked ahead. He saw you kneeling by your father, looking up at him.

“Don't take Sandor away from me. Don't let me have the same fate as the woman you loved.”

Robert smiled down at you and cupped your face. “No need to worry. Clegane will stay by your side.”

Robert looks towards Joffrey. “Stay with Ser Mery Trant. If you wish for a more depraved guard. Perhaps we can ask The Mountain to fill in.” Joffrey quickly shook his head. He sent a glare at you before standing up and walking out of the room. Sandor moved away from the door when he saw Joffrey with a pout on his face. Ser Mery Trant followed the prince.

Sandor looked back at the doorway. Robert had helped you get up on your feet and gave you a hug. Sandor gave you a small smile when he saw you staring back at him with your own smile as you hugged your father. It worked.

Sandor knew he would have to beg forgiveness for not believing in you. Your plan worked. Shame on him for ever doubting you, Princess Y/n Baratheon, the realm's delight.

Chapter 2 ->

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #games of thrones x reader #games of thrones fanfiction #rorymccann #sandor clegane smut #sandor the hound clegane #prince joffrey #robert baratheon #reader baratheon

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thatoneyanderewriter · 5 months

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Deception

pairing: yandere!coriolanus snow x everdeen!reader

summary: it’s the things we love the most that destroy us.

warnings: yandere behavior, stalking, implied murder, violence, delusion, possessive!snow(as in VERY possessive) unhealthy relationships, superiority complex, narcissistic tendencies.

a/n: I love Lucy gray okay? but she didn’t exist in this! Just for the plot btw. also more yandere tbosas characters to come!

Coriolanus liked to think that he was always on top. Snows were, after all, very prominent. That was what was keeping him going in life. His name.

This mentorship would be the key to his future. He had already decided he wanted to be the President of Panem, another way for him to gain control.

He first notices you at the reaping. Not physically. But it’s programmed live, so everyone could see. You stood out. Maybe not on purpose, but to him you did.

“District 12 Girl is Y/N Everdeen.”

The Mayor looked smug. You look over to a smug redhead. He wondered what past you shared with her. And you stood tall and confident. You kept your expression the same as you walk.

The redhead screamed, as the mayor called for help. That was revenge. But you didn’t do anything else, as you stood, the Mayor slapped you so hard you were off of your knees.

But you made no reaction as you stood back up, giving the mayor a warm smile as he was taken away. This was your opportunity, sure. You went over to the mic simply said,”Thank you, hope you enjoyed the show!”

Stepping back, You bowed, and added,”I hope you’ll enjoy my show just as much as I do!” You acted as if the audience was cheering, but it was silence.

The Peacekeepers shove you inside as Jessup is announced as the District 12 Male. You shake hands and that’s one of the last moments of the reaping he sees of you.

To be honest, receiving District 12 was a slap to the face. It was the small, joke district. It was clear Dean Highbottom had something against him, giving it to him on purpose.

In fairness, Coriolanus had made fun of him with friends behind his back, but still. It wasn’t fair. His petty resentment shouldn’t intertwine with his work.

But, you had some sort of gift. One he’d use to his advantage when it came to winning the games. And clearly, people liked you.

“I’ll have to admit, Coriolanus, you’ve gotten lucky, His fellow classmate, Hilarius teased. “I have, He replied proudly, having placed his plate next to Clemensia, He spots pie and immediately goes after it.

He hadn’t had Apple Pie in quite some time. The thought of it made his stomach growl. When all of a sudden, Dean Highbottom placed a bogger slice on his plate.”Oh, take a big one. Growing boy like you can handle it.”

Coriolanus grins at him. Thank you, sir. I can always find room for pie.” The Dean responds, “Yes, pleasures are never hard to accommodate, No one would know better than I.”

He never liked Dean Highbottom. He probably only had his position due to his fame of creating the hunger games.

The conversation sent chills down Coriolanus’ spine when Dean Highbottom spoke the words,”Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and your too-tight shoes, trying to hold it together. Strutting around the Capitol, when I doubt the Snows have a pot to piss in. Even with a prize, it would be a stretch, and you don’t yet have one, do you? What then, I wonder, would happen to you? What then?”

The next morning, Coriolanus stood at the Train Station. After hearing about the arrival of the tributes, he felt it was best to see you personally. A start that most hadn’t jumped to.

This made him feel more confident. And in his hand was a white rose, one from his grandmother’s garden. It was Tigris who suggested bringing a gift. And his cousin was never wrong, most of the time at least.

The train was a bit late but when you arrived, didn’t run per se, but rushed over to you, rose in hand. “Welcome to the Capitol, He greeted you.

You look up at him.”You shouldn’t be here, well, you don’t look like you do.” “I probably shouldn’t, He admits. You laugh a little, but aren’t scared. You don’t trust him right away of course.

“So then, What’s a Capitol boy like you doing around here? You ask, eyeing his clothing. “I’m your mentor, He said.”And I wanted to know you without the Capitol.”

“Hm, a rebel, You teased, taking the rose from him.”Does everyone have a mentor?” “Yes, but the others are waiting I suppose, He winked.

Coriolanus was intrigued. You were a bit more bold and confident than he expected. But the reaping showed a little bit of that.

“What does my mentor do besides bringing roses? You joke. “I do my best to take care of you, He said.”Coriolanus Snow.”

“I’m sure, if you’re my mentor, you know my name, but I like yours, You compliment.”And good luck, by the way. A lot of people don’t like me. Might try to kill you too.”

It was a clear joke, but Coriolanus was still puzzled. How could anyone hate you? You weren’t dangerous by any means, and the confidence you had became attractive to him, almost.

You expect to go on by yourself, but Coriolanus joins beside you, being shoved into the platform. He did so much for you, and maybe you should’ve done more. Then, you saved his life. Out of oath and a sense of guilt. And the fact you wanted to help people, not do the opposite.

Eventually, The games ended. And while Coriolanus was certainly relieved. Dean Highbottom found out about his little favor to help you win.

He just had to see you one last time. To say that he had grown infatuated was an understatement. You just were very charming, and sweet. Naive, even. Maybe not from your eyes, but his? Definitely.

“Are you okay? You ask.”You seemed urgent when you asked to meet up.” It was secret, just like your relationship.

“They’re punishing me, He said.”I don’t know if I’ll see you again. I cheated to help you win.” “I would’ve done the same, Coryo, You remind him.”Besides, I owe you. What’s your punishment?”

He could either lie, or tell you the truth. See, he always felt like you needed to be saved by him. He was superior, in a way. Of course he loved you, but he wanted to protect you too.

“I’m going to be a Peacekeeper for 20 years, He admits.”Protocol, but at least I won’t suffer humiliation.”

You chuckle.”I know, Coryo. I’d rather suffer humiliation than be a Peacekeeper. Will I see you again?” He replied,”I don’t know.”

But when you kiss him, it feel incredible. You loved him so. And from your eyes, he loved you too, yet it didn’t change your confidence and boldness.

He was well aware that you would’ve stood up for what’s right. You were an Everdeen. A family of that, according to you.

But truthfully, he insisted on district 12. “Well, they’re sending me back too, Coryo, You tell him.”Might pick up on more jobs to survive.”

He kissed you roughly one last time. Even though he was sure he’d see you again. Maybe without your knowledge.

When you came home, you did as you said. You picked up on more jobs. And when he first was there began following you, more like stalking you, but he was protective of you, his girl, he’d say to himself.

He didn’t want anyone else to have you. And he knew his silly infatuation became an Obsession. But this wasn’t new. Not in the slightest.

You began singing a little at the Hob, alongside the Covey, a group of musicians. You didn’t sing too much, he notices.

But when you did sing, you sang beautifully. You always sang what you felt. And he admired it. One night, however, you noticed him. But made a small reaction, turning back to the song.

When you ended, you rushed over.”Coryo. Didn’t expect to see you here.” “Surprised? He teased. “A little, You admit.”But, I knew you would. It wasn’t too much of a surprise. Nice buzz cut.”

He laughed, your fingers brushing over his shaved head. He’d miss his curls, but they’d return. “Where’s Sejanus? You ask.

You find him within the crowd, and start up a conversation. However, the night ends with you and Coriolanus, like how he wanted.

His ever growing possessiveness for you was showing a little, his grip on your hand was strong. You didn’t care, though. Not at first. You might not see him again. Or rarely.

Your judgement was clouded by the feeling of Love. A feeling many experience at your age. “Y/N, A voice said drunkenly.

You turn, annoyance in your tone.”What? I know exactly why you’re here.” Your former lover, well, truthfully, a one-sided crush at that. He just thought you were lovers.

He'd believe Mayfair over you, on a lie. that was it for you. “Come on, I miss what we had! He whines. “As if it was anything special, You scoffed.”See, if you hadn’t believed that redhead, it would’ve been just fine. She tried to kill me!”

Coriolanus wouldn’t admit it, at least to you, but he was fuming. His jaw clenched, and obvious signs of frustration. You soothe him, or try to. “Coryo, he’s an idiot, You say, assuringly.

“Ah, your new victim? Your former friend said jokingly, but anger in his voice.”She’s just using you, like with me.”

And that seemed to be it. You could only watch as his fists landed on his face. Stumbling back, he groans.”What the-“ Coriolanus wasn’t done. Now relying on his anger, jealousy, and bloodlust. He punched his jaw, so badly that by the time he was done, which was after a few times, his knuckles were bleeding, and blood landed on him.

Clearly, he was good as dead. This was a side you hadn’t seen before. But nonetheless, You couldn’t react. “Coryo… You could only say. And as he looks up, he hugs you, a bit more passionately than usual.

“You were never here. Go. I can handle it.”

You decide on listening. He wasn’t even really suggesting, but rather ordering. And you didn’t want to stay a moment longer.

Truthfully, He felt a sense of power, and control when he was punching him. You were his, not your former friend’s. He had to make sure of that.

It was a swift process, he had killed before, technically having no other choice but still, he was worried you wouldn’t forgive him. Or tell someone. That would ruin his future.

Of course, it didn’t mean he regretted doing so. He loved the feeling he got. The violence itself he enjoyed. And the way he spoke of you, it was justified. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.

“Coryo, are you alright?”

Hearing your voice, his head spins. Your voice was like a bell to him. “I’m fine, are you? He hurt you? Coriolanus asked in response.

You shake your head.”He’s done this before. He may have hurt me once, but not again.” It was stupid, in your eyes. It wasn’t like he was a lover of yours, just your best friend. You thought he’d choose you over Mayfair, who clearly had her eyes on him.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, if she wasn’t a bitch. “As long as I’m here, Nobody will hurt you, Coriolanus assured you. You smile.”I know. And that’s why I love you, Coryo. Always there for me. I owe you big time.”

You owed him, and he’d never let you forget that. You belonged to him, and nobody else. You better remember that.

#coriolanus snow x reader #yandere coriolanus snow #everdeen!reader

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 2 months

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chiron observations ❤️‍🩹

TW: it’s chiron, you k what’s coming.

natal south node 9H opposition solar chiron 3H in retrograde: lesson i was meant to live, in this case about communication. later on that year, I communicated the situation -I needed help- but throughout that time I was struggling to process the information. south node 9H represents the knowledge i acquired and the lesson i had to experienced to let others know about that knowledge. retrograde shows difficulties on expressing themselves, scared of being judged, delays, etc.

solar moon conjunct natal chiron: wounds who were deeply hidden in the past, that you didn’t remember, are now in front of your eyes and you cannot stop but observe directly. injustices with your mom, resentfulness and emotions you could not hide anymore are now part of your daily routine. it’s like someone hits you with a rock and you can’t stop bleeding/crying.

syrinx (3360) aspecting chiron: it’s giving fear of rejection, literally, that’s your trauma. asteroid syrinx represents your attitude towards rejection and high expectations towards you. I have it in opposition, through my whole life I have been what others wanted me to be. I, even as a child, controlled my respiration to not disturbed others. a period of time I suffered bc I believed with all my soul I shouldn’t live bc of the high expectations, rejection, I wasn’t able to fit in the box, I tried to. it’s been a whole process, to acknowledge -of course- I don’t want and don’t have to be what others want me to be to be happy. I share this to show how you can use what you’ve struggled with and turn it into something you can master, take advantage of it for your own good: the power of chiron.

solar chiron trine natal venus: you’re experiencing what venus represents -relationships, every kind, etc.-, what you craved for a long time, but chiron it’s not gonna bring it up pretty. you’re learning through these experiences. depends on the aspect the intensity and type. in this case, it’s happening -what your natal venus craves- but you’ll learn to confront the situation -bc of the trine aspect that kinda shows the intensity chiron has-. and it’s not going to be as you wished at first… for example, my bestie went on her first date -she’s a hopeless romantic but won’t show it- but she didn’t like the guy and then she told him and that guy dated her friend, she was shocked and obviously affected but then she stood up. for a long time she struggled to make friends, in this period of time finally she got their gurls, but at the begging there were difficulties she turned out to handle really well.

chiron 6H in mars return chart could mean difficulties on your health, keeping up with a sport? routine, have a routine, you could find yourself stressed out about it. you’re starting to analyze more things.

the degree of your chiron in sr chart can tell about your attitude in front of that situation, house would indicate what type of situation you’re dealing with.

example

⤥ solar chiron 11H 17° (leo degree): after my birthday -after solar return starts- i had a “fight” with a “friend” of the group I was part of, and besides that, I was starting to not feeling it with the friend group. it was a journey of a domino effect were I opened my eyes and saw they weren’t sparkling anymore -for me-. so i decided to distance myself, to start a journey of “standing by myself”. I started to do shit by myself, focusing that energy -used on others- on me. it’s giving developed leo energy.

the aspects chiron has represents how you deal with trauma, in any type of chart.

example

⤥ trine natal lilith 7H 18° (virgo degree): continuing with the chiron mentioned before, I struggled with my friendship so I “rebelled” to the situation I wasn’t comfortable with and started to be more independent -some characteristics lilith (mean) represents-. nowadays and never I think, it has been seen as good to do what you want to do without masks. in this case, I left the group and opened my eyes about the girl I “fought”, since the beginning she had some envy attitudes towards me I couldn’t decipher. 7H also represents enemies. virgo degree it’s at it finest when I stopped and analyzed the whole situation, being picky.

i don’t want to misinform or alarm the ones who are reading this, pls don’t take this seriously, it’s an observation I made based on others experiences, this post is not a must do book.

having a lot of chiron aspects in sr it’s giving you’re gonna experience something really traumatic. I’ve seen the solar return charts of family who lost their son/brother, between the year they’ve lost him and the other year, there’s more than 4 aspects. I believe it’s bc of the trauma effect. HOWEVER, pls remember the warning I made earlier.

9H chiron opposition saturn: I have a friend who was born in another country but she stays in another but she has to come back to her natal country to maintain her nationality. she told me his older brother had to be the “dad” bc her parents go back and ford to that another country for work, this means she lacks of a stable father figure, someone who’ll be strict with her, someone who she can support herself, and authority. could be loners.

urania (30) aspecting chiron: urania represents astrology/astronomy/cosmology. in greek mythology, urania was one of the nine muses, the goddess of the topics mentioned before and of universal love and holy spirit. when’s aspecting chiron, that represents how we can grow from our suffer, how we transform that pain and traumatic event that impacted our lives. it appears this connection. astrology is used as a way of healing, of knowing themselves. introspection. feel seen and being even shocked by how accurate astrology can be and how it makes you feel understood. I LOVE YOU SO FCKING MUCH ASTROLOGY THANKYOU BC OF YOU IM ALIVE HDHKWBFND. I have that aspect 🧍‍♀️-this was on my drafts on a post called “astrology helped to heal”, should I post it?

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #chiron #chiron observations #birth chart #solar return

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lemonlover1110 · 7 months

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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 6] Same Old

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Talks of Abortion, Toji being a major asshole, Talks of Cheating

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You feel awful during the week. Nothing to do with pregnancy symptoms but the fact that your husband– Rather, ex-husband is just the biggest scum that you’ve ever come across. You knew that he didn’t want kids, and you should’ve expected his response to be an abortion. You just didn’t expect him to react happily at the thought that he finally trapped you, meaning that he doesn’t care about the fact that you’re having a baby, he just wants you unable to go anywhere.

You’ve grown to resent him even more. And you’re growing to resent yourself because you can’t stop loving him. You wish you could rip your heart out and get rid of your feelings, alas, it isn’t that simple. You’ll have to learn to move on slowly, and balance the love and resentment that you hold of him… The father of your child.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you should get an abortion so you’re not tied to him for the rest of your life. But you also want to be a mother, even if it means that you’re stuck with Toji one way or another.

Your personal issues leave you absentminded at work. You barely hear the phone ringing, and when you do, it’s almost too late. You luckily pick it up. That’s your only job, answering phones, it’d be a shame if you couldn’t do that correctly.

“I’m here to talk to–” You hear a very familiar voice, and you feel a sigh leave your lips as you look up at him. You finish the conversation on the phone, and when you hang up, you clear your throat to ask,

“What are you doing here, Toji?” You make it clear that you’re not exactly pleased with his presence, and he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He isn’t here for you either way. He opens his mouth to speak but you do it before him, “Will you please leave me alone? I think we need a lot of time away from each other before–”

“Toji!” You turn your head to the woman that calls out his name. A manager in your workplace. She walks over to Toji, and you watch as they share a hug, one that lasts too much for your liking. They’ve known each other for some time, that’s clear, but Toji hasn’t come around in the time that you’ve been working here. She looks at you and orders, “Tell my assistant to cancel all my meetings.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You respond, watching as she walks back to her office and he follows behind. You do as she says, dialing the extension and telling the assistant that his boss is occupied. You feel your blood boil, even though you don’t care about Toji’s romances. If he has something going on with that woman, it obviously started while you were together.

Your chest feels heavy, thinking about the one time you chased him around thinking that he was cheating, but he was just working. Maybe he didn’t have to go elsewhere because his job had all he needed. Maybe you trusted him too much. You shouldn’t care, you’re already separated anyway. But you have to know.

You obviously can’t barge into the office and demand answers, matter of fact, you still don’t really want to talk to Toji. You try to not pay any attention to him, and to do that you decide to look at baby clothes. You shouldn’t, you don’t have the money for it right now, there’s other things you should figure out. It doesn’t hurt to look though.

Someone knocks on the reception desk, making you look up and away from the computer screen that displays the cutest onesie. It’s the assistant, Nanami. You smile at him, tilting your head to the side before asking, “How may I help you?”

“Why did she cancel?” He asks, and you shrug.

“She’s with Toji. Probably fuc–” You keep the thought to yourself. You don’t want to be inappropriate at work. Nanami’s brows raise.

“You think there’s something going on there? She’s just really flirty and he returns it because he’s trying to sell something to her.” He tells you, and you sigh. You want that to be the situation because you can’t stand the thought of hating Toji but knowing that he’s been cheating might be your final straw. “That’s what some people say though. I have no idea. Others say that they’re together.”

“It’s none of our business in the end, I guess.” You say and he hums in response.

“Are you two on a first name basis or what? Never heard someone refer to him as Toji, not even my boss.” Kento says, and you’re taken back by the question. You didn’t really expect that question especially since the man in front of you isn’t all that talkative; he’s bored and has nothing to do but he still has to stick around.

“We have a long history together.” You answer, not bothering to give more details. He isn’t going to pry. He nods his head in response, and since he has nothing more to ask or say, he leaves reception and goes back to his desk.

For the rest of the work day, you find yourself looking at baby clothes, growing excited over the fact that you’re growing life inside of you. Even if it’s Toji’s child.

The biggest sigh leaves your lips when you’re finally home after a long day at work. You luckily have the night off from your second job, and now you have the time to lounge around and be lazy. You were planning on leaving your second job once you got the chance to move out but since you’re pregnant, you have to save up your money so you can take some time off when your baby comes– Additionally, all the costs that come with a baby. You’re not counting on Toji.

A groan leaves your lips as you stretch. You get up from your couch and walk to the bathroom to turn on the faucet and fill the tub with water. You need a nice long bath to unwind, and hopefully it’ll help you to get your mind off Toji and the fact that he may have been cheating on you while you were married. You want to believe Nanami, but he’s oblivious to pretty much everything that’s going on around him.

You get undressed and soak yourself in the tub when it’s full. You allow yourself to relax in the warm water, shutting your eyes, trying your best to not fall asleep in the water. You have to open your eyes when you catch yourself drifting off. You grab a bottle of your bath bubbles and pour some into the water so you can entertain yourself like that.

You begin to play with the water to make bubbles, and when your bath is filled with them, you hear a knock on the front door. It’s rather aggressive, so it’s hard not to notice. You get out of the water, irritated as you grab a towel and dry yourself off. You don’t have enough time to run to your room to change into clothes so you grab your bathrobe and wrap it around yourself.

When you approach the door, the person knocks again, even harsher than before. You open the door, and you aren’t surprised to find your ex-husband standing before you with a bag that contains what you assume is food. You cross your arms, tilting your head to the side and ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Thought we’d have some dinner together after the awkward events from earlier.” He says, trying to disregard the fact that you’re just wearing a bathrobe with probably nothing underneath. The thought alone drives him wild.

“Why would I want to have dinner with you?” You ask him, letting it be known that you’re not exactly pleased with his presence. You don’t understand why you have to make it painfully obvious that you don’t want to be near him, he should know at this point. He’s just ignoring what you want for his own selfish reasons. You shouldn’t be surprised though, you married him knowing how selfish he is; you didn’t expect to divorce him though, and you didn’t expect his selfishness to affect you while you’re separating.

“I could tell you were upset when I left… So why not?” He responds and you don’t budge. He tries to weakly smile, and it comes off awful. “And you’re pregnant so I got you your favorite.”

“Fine.” You end up agreeing. You’re hungry and the thought of eating your favorite food brings joy to your heart– Except you’re not even sure if Toji bought the right meal, he doesn’t know you that well. You don’t think he does. But you’re hungry anyway. “You can set the table while I put on some clothes.”

“I don’t know–” He begins but you cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

“You wanted to have dinner with me, you can figure it out yourself. It’s not that hard.” You give him attitude before you walk to your room, leaving him to figure it out. Going through all the drawers isn’t that hard, he’s still a bit annoyed that he has to do so. He can’t really argue with you though since the last thing you want is for him to be at your apartment. You walk back, asking, “Did you find everything?”

“Yeah.” He answers, walking over to the table to organize the plates and utensils. You take a seat while he handles that. You watch as he does a task that he never did while you were married. You never really minded though, you had an agreement: you take care of the house while he pays for every bill.

When he takes a seat, you waste no time in serving yourself food. A small smile comes to your lips when you realize that he, in fact, did get your favorite food. You wipe it off your face before he can see it. You don’t want to give him that satisfaction of seeing you smile.

You quietly begin to eat when the food is served. Toji doesn’t like the silence, even if it’s what he wanted a couple of months ago. He clears his throat before asking, “So… Why were you upset?”

“I wasn’t upset.” You answer with your mouth full of food. You don’t want him to think that you’re upset, even though you so clearly are.

“When I left, I tried to talk to you but you couldn’t even look at me.” He points out, and you continue eating in silence.

“You should leave. Megumi already spends a lot of time alone.” You try to change the topic and kick him out of the apartment but that won’t work so easily on him. He takes a deep breath, standing up from the chair and walking to your kitchen to grab himself a glass of water.

“Why were you upset?” He asks, and you decide that suppressing your feelings isn’t really going to solve much. You sigh.

“Were you cheating on me while we were married?” You finally ask the question that’s been bugging your mind all day. Toji chokes on the water that he drinks, punching his chest as he coughs it out. You wait for his response patiently, watching him as you eat the food that’s in front of you.

“Why would you even suggest that? Do you not trust me?” He sounds deeply offended by the question, making another sigh leave your lips. You should’ve known that would be his response.

“I don’t. You did it once, you might do it again.” You tell him, and his brows furrow.

“That happened months into our relationship and you decided to stick around. I never did it again, I swear to you on my life.” He argues, which doesn’t really help you. You can’t bring yourself to trust him, at least not now.

“Then why was that lady so… Touchy. A little too close.” You remind him, and a smirk comes to Toji’s lips. He tilts his head to the side before asking,

“Are you jealous?” Which makes you roll your eyes. You don’t care to answer that, of course you’re jealous but you won’t admit it to him.

“Answer.” You order, and he puts the glass down. He walks back to the table and takes a seat. It feels like forever as you wait for him to answer. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you wait for a response.

“Flirting comes with the job sometimes. Flatter her, secure the company’s business.” He answers, and your eyes widen.

“I–” You open and close your mouth a couple of times, trying to figure out what you say. You’re hurt by his actions, and it leads you to say, “That’s cheating, Toji.”

“No it isn’t. I never wanted anything to do with her.” He points out, which doesn’t really help you. You feel nauseous and you have to stop eating before you throw it all back up. You have to take a deep breath before speaking again,

“Imagine if I started flirting with some random guy just to secure a good tip–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“If it’s your job, I wouldn’t care. You’re making more money for us.” He says, making you take another deep breath. You can’t believe this is the conversation you’re having with him.

“Right… You wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t even care if I was flirting just for attention.” You respond, and he crosses his arms. He clicks his tongue.

“What are you trying to say?” He asks, which makes a sigh escape your lips. You have to look away from him because you feel the tears well up in your eyes.

“That you’ve never really cared about me like that Toji. You wanted someone to fill the role of your wife, and that’s what I did essentially. You never cared for me as your lover though, you couldn’t care less about what I did as long as I continued to play wife.” You tell him, and he rolls his eyes. He’s tired of listening to this.

“That’s not true.” He responds. Of course. He’s not going to admit his faults, he never will.

“And if I told you I slept with someone once while we were together… Would you feel jealous? What if I told you I was seeing someone else now?” You bring up, and his brows raise. He finds himself speechless, completely unsure of how to respond to that. He ends up chuckling before saying,

“I wouldn’t feel jealous because I know neither of those things are true.” He knows you better than you think. But that’s not the reaction you want to see. “Let’s drop this. I was never cheating on you, now that that’s settled–”

“Maybe it isn’t cheating but it certainly hurts my feelings.” You respond, not wanting to drop the subject yet. “You couldn’t even bother giving me that type of attention, but you could do it to other women.”

“Why are you so overdramatic?” He scoffs.

“You’re right, Toji. I’m overdramatic. Yet you’re the one here that refuses to leave because for some stupid reason you think we can get back together.” You slightly raise your voice at him, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Why do I have to constantly show you that I love you? Do you not believe me?” He proceeds to ask which nearly makes your eye twitch. You can’t believe how long you stuck with this man.

“No! I made it clear that I don’t trust you.” You waste no time in answering. “Plus I’ve never been sure of your love in the first place.”

“I do love you.” He responds. You’re tired of hearing the same lie over and over again. You don’t see the point, he can just find another woman to play as his wife.

“This feels like the same conversation. We have this conversation every single time we talk.” You say, focusing back on eating. “Let’s not. Let’s change the topic or finish eating in silence.”

“Right.” Toji ends up sighing. “I’m covering half of your rent and your bills. I want you to leave your second job.”

“Huh?” You’re not sure if your ears are deceiving you. But he repeats it and you’re right. “What about your gambling addiction? Can you handle that?”

“Don’t bring that up. I don’t have an addiction either way.” Toji responds. But you’re not leaving your second job. He isn’t reliable. Even if you want to leave your second job to have nights off and be able to relax. “I guess… It’d be ideal if you moved back in but you’re not doing that.”

“Why are you doing this? Do you suddenly care about the pregnancy?” You ask. You don’t want him to be doing this simply because he wants to win you back, but knowing him he might be doing this just for that.

“I guess I have no other option. It’s my baby too.” He ends up saying, and you have no idea if you’re supposed to feel good about it. You have mixed emotions over it. “I can’t be a shitty father.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

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webslingingslasher · 7 months

Note

waitttt what does peter do if one of the frat dudes refer to trouble as his bitch, or if he heard anyone call her that? it happened to me before, but was such a let down because he actually just let his friends say it 😻 we’re no longer together btw

while peter's in the bathroom you butt into the group and voice your opinion, 'i think you guys should do the maze! everyone does haunted houses.'

one brother didn't like your opposing opinion, 'why do you think you have a say in anything we do? you're just parker's bitch.' you freeze on the spot, you didn't mean to offend anyone, or try to impose, you were just trying to voice an outsider opinion.

your brow furrows, 'okay, well, i was just thinking that-'

'no one cares what you think.' it's aggressive for no reason, you want to stand strong but feel yourself slinking to the back of the group. another member catches your mood, he jabs an elbow and gives a supportive smile.

'you know he didn't mean it like that, he's just on edge.' you give a barely there nod and drone out the brothers proposal, feeling sorry for yourself until peter returns and has his hand resting on your lower back.

when no one spoke up for you it felt like it was mutal agreement, you didn't feel welcome in the house that night. you slide closer to peter and mumble softly.

'i just got a call from ally, i gotta go.' you don't even give him time to respond, high tailing it from the frat house and back to where you can not feel like such a bother.

you weren't going to make a big deal of it, and you knew if you told peter, especially in the moment, he'd make it a big deal and your embarrassment would increase tenfold. it doesn't make you feel any less bad when peter looks disappointed and confused.

----

ten thirty in the morning you’re standing outside peter's front door humming. playing off last night as a fluke, you don’t feel so judged. you think the other brother was right, the comments weren’t coming from a place of resentment but because you just confirmed his anxieties about his party turning out to be a dud.

ethan greeted you at the door, you gave him a quick hug before squeezing by him. ‘good morning, friend.’ ethan wrapped his arm around yours as he tugged you further into the house, turning for the kitchen.

‘your boy is in the shower, want some breakfast?’ you nod and smack your lips watching him make you a plate from the earlier meal. tearing a piece of french toast with your teeth you peer up to watch the brother from last night pass by.

you give a small wave, testing to see if he was still bitter from last night, he wasn’t. but you became extremely upset looking at his face as he turned to wave back. the bar chair spins by how quick you drop, making it to him in three steps, you tug at his chin.

‘did peter fucking hit you?’

you already know the answer, he has a black eye to prove it.

‘i know i was out of line last night, i shouldn’t have-‘

‘no, no, no.’ your mind spins, this isn’t what you wanted. that's why you didn't say anything, you wonder who tattled. you shake your head in dissapointment, you pull in the brother for a tight hug.

'i am so, so sorry. i didn't tell him to do anything, i didn't even tell him anything!' he gives a nervous laugh, 'i shouldn't have-' you push him away and hold his arms, 'nothing you said warrented that, okay? i'm sorry, i'm really, really sorry.'

he shrugs it off, he does seem mostly unbothered, but it makes you shake in fury. peter doesn't understand that he just proved his claims right. peter punching a guy for calling you his bitch, made you feel like his bitch.

you stare at ethan and raise your arms, 'tarrent.' you roll your eyes, of course he'd be the one to gossip. without second thought you stomp up to peter's room, going straight into his bathroom and slapping the glass on the shower.

peter jumps in alert, you're giving him a dirty glare behind a slight fog. 'hey, trouble. did you have some french toast?' you stay silent as you tug the shower door open, you barzenly step in, peter does his best to block your clothes from the showerhead with his body.

'you are such a douchebag, peter. what you did? that was such a douchebag move.'

he knows what you're talking about, you make him feel shameful. he was, but only to a degree. he probably shouldn't have punched him, but he also shouldn't have called you a bitch and sent you running away.

'no one should speak about you like that.'

'you shouldn't put your hands on people like that.'

peter narrows his eyes, 'is this what we're doing?' you cross your arms, 'i want you to apologize.'

peter keeps his hold for a few seconds, then he deflates and looks to the side. 'i'm sorry. i shouldn't have punched him.' he warms up when you coo and rub his arm.

'aw, petey. yeah, that sounds perfect. let me know when you're coming downstairs so i can grab him.' the second you leave the shower he stops you, 'hey! what does that mean?'

you hold a hand to your chest, 'you didn't punch me, i don't want your apology for it.' peter turns the water off to wrap a towel around him, 'just- hold on.' you're followed back into his bedroom, you do your best to ignore water droplets over his chest.

'you want me to apologize to the guy that called you a bitch?'

'i want you to apologize to the guy you gave a black eye to.'

'for calling you a bitch.'

you slap your hands on your thighs, 'for calling me your bitch, peter! and when you go around punching guys that say that, you make them right!'

oh.

when you say it like that it's painted in a new light, all peter could think about the blatent disrespect, he didn't think about how it would affect you.

'i mean, the guy was petrified to see me. he kept saying sorry and wouldn't look at me, that doesn't make me feel like you protected my honor, it feels like you tarnished it.'

peter can't even look you in the eye, he feels horrible. you already felt like you weren't liked because of his frat brothers comment, and now you would feel like everyone would be scared to talk to you.

peter just made you feel more uncomfotable in his house than a passing comment could ever.

'i didn't think about it like that. i'm sorry, trouble.'

he sounds sorry, you accept the apology, but just this once.

'the next time you punch somone on my behalf, it'll be because i asked you, agree?'

peter nods quick, 'yeah, yes, agreed.' you look him over, he still has some shampoo suds in his hair. 'i'm going downstairs to finish my breakfast, and the next time i see you, you better be ready to give an apology.'

he's still annoyed at the thought, but he'd do anything for you. 'yes, ma'am.'

--------

ethan had just taken your plate away to wash it when peter came down the stairs, he was fully dressed this time and his hair was only slightly damp.

he raised his eyebrows at you before taking a deep breath, calling for the brother by his last name. peter stretches before shaking out his shoulders, he called out again, but for a house meeting.

you were weary at the least and curious at the most. staying in your seat you watch carefully, each member at the house stood around in a half circle.

'it's been brought to my attention that my actions last night were out of line and childish. i let myself, my brother and my frat down. it's a rule we try to solve things with words first, and i didn't do that.'

a few eyes flash towards you, you know they're all thinking about how you got him to apologize.

peter turns to look at his brother with a purple ring coating his left eye. 'i should've never hit you and i'm sorry.'

'ah, it's alright, man. i came after your girl, i'd do the same.' your eyebrows turn in with how quick things turned around. guys are so easy.

peter still feels like it's not right, so he speaks up.

'the apology may have been prompted by someone else,' everyone knows who, 'but this part wasn't.'

peter looks at his fellow member, 'i want you to punch me.' soft oo's pour from the groups mouths, you feel choked up. the brother looks nervous, 'are you sure?'

'yeah, it's only fair. i punched you, you punch- oh, son of a bitch!’ a righthook to his jaw, he didn't see it coming.

peter held his face and hissed, 'fuck me, that sucks.'

'yeah. tell me about it. my eye's still pulsing.' peter winces, 'yeah, still sorry about that.'

a red splotch painted peter's jawline, making sure to look at the small crowd when he spoke. 'if you guys have a problem with my girl hanging around, you let me know, not her. and i promise, no punching.'

when no one adds anything he looks to his friend, 'we good or you need another hit?' the brother raises a fist, before lowering it and cracking a smile. 'we're good bro.'

the members disperse, you slow clap for peter.

'very impressed, parker.' his nose scrunches, he hates when you call him by his last name. 'does that mean i'm out of the dog house?'

you reach out for him with a pucker, he gives a slow kiss, it's the first one you've given him since you've seen him.

'hm, i'm gonna need at least three more kisses before i think about it.'

peter has no quelms in finishing your request.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #uni exras

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noxturnalpascal · 12 days

Text

Devotion 🖤

II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 8)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 8 (6.6k) | The Night You Left |

Joel barely sleeps, tossing and turning in his bed with his clothes on, knuckles bloody and burning, throat raw from screaming. He wakes up to hushed whispers outside his door and he throws it open, inexplicably hoping to see you out there. Instead he sees a sea of terrified faces, Sasha tucking Beth behind her, Tess peering out from the bathroom with Rosie holding a cold cloth over her swollen face. Kerri is further down the hall, sweeping up chunks of drywall and dust on the floor from the holes he’d punched into the wall hours earlier.

He looks back towards Tess. Fuck. She looks awful, already two swollen black eyes and a split lip. What kind of a monster does that to someone?

“Tess, I–”

“I’ll be alright Joel,” she reassures. “Why don’t you head over to the baths and get cleaned up?”

She knows he can’t be seen in the state he’s in. What would people think? They’d think he’d fuckin’ lost it is what they’d think. And they’d be right.

Joel heads to the old plaza, a ten minute walk down the street and around the corner, to the old salon now serving as the town bath house. This early in the morning he knows no one is going to be here so he lets himself in through the back door. He checks the tank of the town’s only working hot water heater and begins to fill one of the stock tank tubs, shucking his clothes off and climbing in. The water stings his raw knuckles as he scrubs at his body, washing away bits of dusty drywall and blood – his or Tess’, he can’t tell.

Fuck, he fucked up. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. He shouldn’t have done that to Tess. This is what you fucking do to him, this is the effect you have on him. You bring out the worst in him. All you ever did was distract him, tempt him, tease him, and reject him. He saved your life, fed you, clothed you, protected you, and put a roof over your head. And how did you repay him?

Resentment. Neglect. Defiance. Abandonment.

What did he even see in you? He thought you were brave, but you were so soft on the inside. He thought you were smart, but he watched you act like such a fucking fool. He thought you were beautiful, but you wouldn’t even let him say it. He thought you were wild, but he tamed you so easily. He was wrong about you. He tells himself that he’s glad you’re gone and that he’s better off without you around anyway.

—

The first Thursday without you, Joel takes Beth to the meeting, despite complaining that he’d rather go alone. Beth had already gotten to work making clothes and this would be a good opportunity for her to give some out to the families that lived further out of town, at least that’s what Tess had said. He’d never admit it, but he held his breath when a group of people led by the tall and imposing Hank walked in the room, someone else trailing just behind. Several people shifted and Joel saw it was just Hank’s little girl, blushing bright red when she caught him looking at her.

Shit. He’s not sure why he let himself think it might be you. Hank hadn’t brought you to the church meeting on Sunday so why did he let that tightness grow in his stomach thinking he’d bring you to the Thursday meetings the way he used to bring Beth? Whatever. He doesn’t even want to see you. He continues to be in a foul mood all week and despite pleading with Tess for forgiveness – which she gives him – all the women in the house seem to avoid him.

The second Thursday he notices Hank’s young daughter, who’d introduced herself several times as Amber, following his every move, watching him, sitting next to him, hanging on his every word with rapt attention. The little girl must have a crush. How inconvenient. But wait, he might be able to use this to his advantage. He’d noticed you ducking behind Hank’s oversized frame at church the past Sunday, avoiding him like the plague, and decided he was going to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Fuck you, you little ingrate, he’s gonna ignore the shit out of you right back.

He purposely avoided looking in your direction during his speech and sat with his back to you during dinner. He made sure to act like the perfect leader, loving and gentle, graciously accepting people’s well wishes for Tess’ illness – the cover-up for why she’d been in the house for over a week while her face healed up. Within earshot of you he gives attention to every other female Valley member, even going so far as to bring people into his embrace, hugging them tight.

He’s like an oily politician – kissing babies and shaking hands – but he hopes you see it all. He hopes you feel sick over it, feel jealous, feel regret. He hopes you feel the loneliness rotting in your gut like he does. But how will he know? How will he know if he can’t see you, can’t talk to you? He needs access to you, someone for you to confide in, someone on the inside. Little Amber will do nicely.

He strikes up a conversation with her, bumping up the charm to an eleven. He opens with some mildly flirtatious banter, asks some questions about her – women love that shit – before getting to the point.

“Hear you got a new roommate over there,” he postures casually.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Amber beams.

“She is?”

“Oh– ummm,” her brow furrows. “Isn’t she?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles, “You tell me.”

“She’s alright, yeah… I mean, she– she’s fine.”

“Well you should let me know if she does anything to bother you.” His voice is smooth and buttery.

“I should?”

“Well yeah,” Joel touches his hand briefly to her chin, “I gotta make sure you’re happy, don’t I?”

“Oh,” she giggles, face flushing immediately.

“So make sure you tell me what’s goin’ on, okay?”

“Yeah I will,” she tries to suppress her smile. “I– I definitely will.”

“Anything at all, even if you think it might not be important.” He makes sure she’s looking at him and drops his voice an octave. “Anything at all, okay, sweetheart?” He winks to seal the deal.

It was almost too easy, turning little Amber into his own private mole. Every Thursday he gave her a couple minutes of attention and she folded, playing right into his hand and spilling everything you two had talked about over the past week. She told him where you went, what you did, who you talked to, and even what anyone else in the house said about you. Apparently Hank’s wife was missing Beth and Joel briefly thinks of telling Tess to make a switch back, but then gets angry at you again and changes his mind.

You don’t deserve his forgiveness, you’re not missing him enough, not even close to being as miserable as you could be. Amber had told him that you’d cried yourself to sleep almost every night the first week but then the other day after the church meeting he’d watched you hunch down behind little Amber – barely five feet tall – trying to hide from him. Your stubborn pride is gonna make it even more satisfying when you come crawling back to him, begging him to let you come back home.

Amber tells him when you’ve stopped crying at night but says you still spend a lot of time on your own, wandering the edges of the property. She catches you up in the hayloft all the time, or napping with the baby goats. She says you don’t spend any time with Danny or Diego, the ranch hands, so he resists his urges to take them by the collar and threaten to bury them alive if they so much as look at you.

—

Joel woke up in the mornings feeling empty, like his chest had been broken open and hollowed out, all of his internal organs scooped onto the ground. The only thing that remained inside him was a deep-seated ache. He tried to soothe it with conversation but Tess didn’t want to hear it, kept telling him it’s better this way and to move on. He tried to temper his loneliness with touch, but when he reached for Sasha’s hand after dinner one night she ripped it out of his grip. One evening, in a particularly weak moment, he nuzzled into Kerri’s neck while she was washing dishes, her hands occupied and covered in suds.

“Oh,” she squeaked, startled by his touch.

“Hey,” he said, muffled against her skin, twitching under the brush of his beard.

“I’m not really–” she started.

He didn’t let her finish. He was out of the room before she could even finish her sentence. How fucking pathetic was he? He didn’t even want her – not really – and she couldn’t even stand to be touched by him. This is what you’ve done to him, this is what you’ve made him. He’s been ruined by you.

When it's been just over a month since you left, things at the house finally get back to a sense of normalcy again. For a while, Tess was the only one speaking to him, and besides the Thursday meetings Beth was assigned to accompany him to, she avoided him like the plague. Kerri wouldn’t meet his eyes, Rosie shuffled away from him whenever he entered a room, and Sasha gave him dirty looks every time she passed him in the halls. But with time, things were improving. There was a low hum of conversations around the dinner table now – none of them involving him – but at least everyone else was happy.

The following Sunday Amber traps him in a corner and starts saying shit about coming to live with him. He has no idea where she got this idea in her head but she keeps trying to touch the buttons on his shirt and he’s doing everything in his power not to swat her little fucking hands away. He sees Tess giving him a look and he knows. He knows he needs to get away from her, that people can see him, that people will talk. What if you see him? You’re never gonna come back home if you think he’s messing around with this annoying child. He has to stop using her for information, he has to cut her off.

The following Thursday marks the end of February and Amber’s reports have gotten brief and repetitive. Walks alone along the pastures, always has her nose in a book at bedtime, late to every meal (much to her mother’s chagrin). She tells him that you only leave the farm on Sundays for church and on Wednesdays for your bath, having to settle for a weekly wash at the Covered Bridge Inn another mile down the road with some of the other farming families. He bets you’re missing your three soaks a week since you left town.

Joel decides to cut Amber off then and there, she’s not giving him anything he doesn’t already know and he needs more, he wants more. He needs to fill that emptiness inside him and you’re the only thing that can make him feel whole again. He’s barely looked at you in weeks, always avoiding watching you directly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of thinking he gives a fuck. He doesn’t, not really. He just wants to soothe the hole you left. He convinces himself he just needs a taste, just needs a peek. He just needs to see if you’re missing him, to make sure you’re suffering the way he is, the way you should be. He wants to see it for himself. Then he can get over you – move on – like Tess says he should.

He waits until the following Wednesday and makes a trip out to the Mansfield’s farm when he knows you’ll be gone for your bath. Only Hank remains on the farm to greet him but is honored and excited by Joel’s presence. Joel makes up something about wanting to visit Hank because of how much he respects all of his hard work, but asks Hank to not spread the word lest the other farmers be jealous. Hank nods in agreement as he shows Joel around the property and then welcomes him into his humble home.

When Joel excuses himself to use the bathroom he takes a walk around the upstairs, checking each bedroom to find yours, recognizing it when he sees one of your old shirts on the bed. He lifts your pillow to his face, huffing in your familiar scent. Under your pillow is a book, paperback cover worn and tattered, Of Mice and Men by John Steinback. Joel stuffs it in his waistband and pulls his shirt back down, heading back downstairs to tell Hank he should get going.

There’s no mention of his visit by his little spy the next night so, he assumes Hank kept it a secret and you were none the wiser. He wants to go to the farm again, he wants to have another piece of you. Just one more taste, just one more. He waits until late in the day on the following Wednesday and, avoiding traps he and his patrols helped set, he rides out and sneaks onto the property from the neighboring fields. Hank is working out in the far pasture and doesn’t even notice Joel’s surreptitious arrival.

The house is unlocked and he goes straight to your room, this time laying down in your bed, letting himself soak in the scent of you wafting off the sheets. He thinks of you crawling in the bed every night at the end of a long day working your ass off on this farm, a big change from the cushy life you had back home. He knows you only get a bath once a week here, and he can smell your scent on the sheets strongly. He smells sweat, dirt, farm animals, and a trace of tangy milk. You must change the sheets when you get back from your bath. This must be the most pungent they smell all week.

He grabs his dick overtop his pants, he can feel it already hard and aching at the thought of you. He wishes he had more time to lie here, to really be able to enjoy himself, but he made up an excuse to Tess and she’ll be suspicious if he’s gone too long. He takes his hand away from the front of his pants and instead grabs your pillow, throwing it over his face to breathe it in a final time. He gets up, adjusting himself, and takes a step towards the door before he doubles back and snatches your pillowcase off the pillow, stuffing it down the front of his shirt.

—

He’s panting slightly as he makes his way in the back door of his house, having had to jog from the stables, cutting through the town park so he’d be back before Tess started wondering where he was. Kerri gives him a sideways glance and an empty smile, quickly turning her head back to her meal preparation. Tess and Sasha come up from the basement holding jars of preserved vegetables.

“Where you been?” Tess asks.

“I told you,” he tries to stifle his heavy breathing. “I had to help Peter out with his solar panel issue.”

“But Peter’s wife Georgia just came by here not even ten minutes ago and asked how you were doin’,” she says, looking confused.

“Yeah well it wasn’t at his house,” Joel thinks quickly. “He’s been tryin’ to get it fixed up for little old Miss Betty, out– umm… over there by the woods.” He picked the most remote, home-bound person he could think of, hoping it would cover his ass.

“Oh, she needs power? For what?” she asks, setting down the jars on the counter with Sasha, not giving Joel her full attention anymore. He uses the opportunity to move out of the kitchen towards his office.

“I dunno, just helpin’ out Peter,” he says and then ducks out of the room before she can question him further.

Once he closes his office door he pulls out your pillowcase from under his shirt and balls it up to his face, sniffing it more. He sticks it in the bottom desk drawer under the maps, where he keeps your lost pair of underwear, your rejected christmas gift, and the book he took from under your pillow on his previous visit. Something scratches at him from deep inside, something that might resemble guilt. He shakes it off. He has nothing to feel guilty for. If you want underwear, books, or your pillowcase so bad you can come back home and have them.

—

He can’t even wait until next Wednesday to go over to the farm. Sunday morning rolls around – he’s spent all weekend planning this moment – and he gives a well-rehearsed speech to Tess about being sick. He doubles over in his bed and clutches his middle, groaning until her face softens and she puts the back of her hand to his forehead the way his mom used to. She brings him some water and rice and tells him to get some rest before heading to the services with everyone else in the house.

Once he’s left alone he jumps out of bed, throwing the covers off like a child on Christmas morning. He knew that if he went to church he’d be able to see you, maybe fill a little bit of his craving. But since he doesn’t really look at you, how much of you can he actually see? Knowing that Hank would bring your entire household to the service meant the farmhouse would be empty. He can sneak over there while everyone is preoccupied and have his fill of your scent, of the ghost of your presence. He needs this, he tells himself, he needs a little bit more before he stops, before he gets over you.

He doesn’t want to take a horse this time, wants to leave no trace of where he’s going or risk anyone seeing him riding out. Most of the town is at the church service but he wants to be extra cautious. He heads out the back door and ducks into the trees beyond the yard, making the long way around the populated square to hit the fence-line. He finds a well-worn path through two fence sections and, avoiding the traps he knows are there, darts south towards the farm.

Joel’s knees are aching by the time he hits Hank’s property, heart pounding and feet throbbing, having set a brutal pace to make the trip in just about thirty minutes. His chest is heaving to catch his breath as he crosses over the creek and walks up the small hill to the old farmhouse standing like a silent monument above the pastures.

He takes his time on this visit, going through your side of the dresser, recognizing the clothes you had before, touching the fabric with his fingers that he would feel beneath his touch whenever he held you in the mornings. He looks in the closet – mostly Amber’s clothes – but sees a nice dress in there he assumes Hank intended for you to wear to church. Joel’s never seen you in a dress, maybe no one here has either, since you’ve certainly never worn this one.

He takes off his clothes and climbs in your bed, lying face flat on your pillow, and smells you. Not your soap or shampoo, but you, the real you. The you he used to smell when you were at home, when you were in his arms, when you were his. Before you left him, before you broke him, before he was empty. He slowly humps against the bed – his cock rubbing the worn, softened sheets – and thinks of you.

He imagines you coming back and catching him, throwing your arms and legs around him, crying how much you miss him and kissing him until he agrees to take you home. His come spills on your sheets and he throws the blanket back over top, leaving the mess for you to find. Part of him hopes you know it was him. He puts half his clothes on and then begins to get sleepy, having stayed up half the night going over and over in his head his plans for today. He lies down on top of the bed just to rest his eyes for a moment.

He doesn’t hear the horses pull up with the wagon outside, or the door opening and people entering the house downstairs. He doesn’t hear anything until there’s footsteps on the stairs coming towards where he’s still half naked and just awake. Shit. He jumps up and grabs the rest of his clothes off the floor, kicking his boots under your bed and jumping in the closet just as Amber bursts in the room, humming a hymn and babbling about how she wants to make soup to send to him. You hum in assent but otherwise say nothing.

He wishes he could see you, but he’s pushed himself into the closet and to the side as much as possible. He is half-covered by a mothball-smelling crocheted cardigan and a mildew-smelling old raincoat. He hears the soft sounds of fabric and the wooden creak of dresser drawers, then you both silently shuffle out of the room and down the stairs. He waits a long time until he's sure the coast is clear and manages to get himself dressed, pull on his shoes, and make it downstairs.

He hides in a closet for several hours, hearing Amber and her mother all around the first floor, cleaning and cooking and gossipping to each other. Where are you? Are you in the hayloft like Amber said you like to be? Are you feeding goats or milking cows? He wants to see you but he knows he has to go, knows he’s stayed too long. Everyone has been back at his house for hours and Tess will most definitely be wondering where the fuck he went to.

It’s mid-afternoon by now and he knows he can’t waste anymore time. He ducks out of the closet and runs for the closest patch of trees as quickly as he can. As soon as he’s in the cover of the woods he starts thinking of the shit show he’s gonna walk into. Tess is gonna give him the third degree. He left no note, no indication of where he would be. What excuse is he even gonna give? He played sick so convincingly and now what is he gonna do? What can he tell her that will be believable?

His mind is racing with a hundred different thoughts and he’s trying to ignore the sting of the cold air in his lungs and the burning of his thighs as he presses forward up another hill. He’s sure that’s why he misses the trap. Because he knows where they all are, he helped set almost every single one. He has a map in his office with all of them marked off, directs the patrols to check and maintain them. He knows better. But he’s distracted. You’ve distracted him. This is all your fault. That’s all he can think as he feels the trap clamping over his ankle and the biting pain shooting up his leg. This is all your fuckin’ fault.

Joel loses his balance quickly as the counterweight trips and yanks his leg out from under him. He sees the whole world flip and feels the fire of tearing flesh licking up his leg. He comes to rest with his shoulders on the ground, his head brushing against the fallen leaves, but the lower half of his body lifted up in the air, strung up in the tree by his ankle. Shit, this is a good trap, he was so proud when he thought of it and now he can confirm that it’s quite debilitating and extremely painful.

—

The sun has started setting when Joel hears a single step behind him and he whips his head around, facing a lone figure, light hair braided over her shoulder, pack on her back stuffed full. Sasha.

“Hey honey… I didn’t hear ya coming,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, Joel,” she looks him over quickly, “That’s kinda the point.”

She opens her mouth to ask a question – probably something akin to what the fuck are you doing out here – but then she looks southward, towards the still-visible fields of the dairy farm, and back at him. She closes her mouth, deciding not to ask something she already knows the answer to. Instead she looks him up and down, taking in the scene in the fading light.

“You uhh… you want me to get you down from there?”

“Well what’s the alternative, honey?” He motions around. “You gonna leave me here?”

“I could…” her face remains impassive, considering her options, “But Tess would probably miss you.”

Joel lets out a huff and gives her a partial smile, it’s as much as he can manage having been stuck like this for far too long. Sasha throws her pack down and fishes some bolt cutters out of the back, reaching them above Joel’s ankle and cutting a chain link rather easily. Joel's body unceremoniously slams down to the forest floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she mutters, kneeling down to check him over. “What’d you think was gonna happen when I cut it?”

“I dunno honey but I’m not a fuckin’ gymnast. I’ve been hangin’ upside-down for hours, so I’m kinda at the whim of gravity right now.

“Well twinkle toes, good thing you’re not training for the olympics, because your leg looks absolutely fucked. We need to get you to the clinic ASAP.”

Yeah yeah yeah Joel grumbles, grunting and groaning as Sasha helps him to his feet, leaning into his side so she can support his weight on his bad side.

“Is your horse nearby?”

“Didn’t bring a horse,” he sighs.

“Joel, we’re still over a mile away from home and your leg–”

“Well we better get going then, huh?”

“But, Joel–”

“Time’s a wastin’ honey, let’s go.”

—

By the time the doctor finishes wrapping Joel’s ankle, he can already see the blood seeping through the bottom layers of the bandages. She’s given him some expired meds for the pain that are managing to take the edge off, but he’s still extremely uncomfortable. He’s not gonna tell her that though.

“I’m gonna need to see you tomorrow to clean and redress this wound.”

“I can come by after–”

“No,” she interrupts. “No, Joel, I’ll make a house call, you shouldn’t be walking on this at all. This needs to be elevated so the swelling can go down.” She wraps the second layer tighter and Joel bites back a noise. She notices. “That’s why it’s leaking like this, you didn’t elevate it,” she scolds, and then murmurs under her breath, “And you walked a mile on it.”

“Well I knew you made house calls but I didn’t think you’d make middle-of-the-forest calls.”

She makes a noise that sounds like hmmm, and grabs another roll of gauze to keep wrapping around. He’s not sure if she bought his story, that he and Sasha were scavenging together and he wasn’t looking where he was going, but she removed the trap from his ankle and gave him a tetanus shot and some antibiotics. He didn’t even realize she had all of that here but she opened a locked cabinet and there was a secret stash of medicines, just waiting for him.

Since he was hanging upside-down he didn’t lose much blood and the doctor told him she doubts there’s a broken bone, given that the trap clamped down above the ankle bones and more into the meat of his leg. She is worried about infection, of course, and said that the way it pulled on his leg could take a while for the muscles to heal. How long did Sasha leave you hanging there she kept asking and he kept explaining that they’d split up to cover more ground, and she’d found him when he missed their meet-up time.

“I think that’s enough, Doc, quit fussin’ over me,” he tells her as he shifts on the bed to get up. “Get Sasha for me and I’ll head home, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it elevated.”

“Sasha left after she dropped you off Joel,” she leans back and points to the doorway, where one of the clinic staff has rolled in a rusted wheelchair. “We’re gonna take you.”

“I’m not getting in that thing.”

“Oh cut it out, you already got your tetanus shot.”

—

He gets out of the chair and stumbles up the front steps, forbidding them from helping him through the door and promising to elevate his leg and keep it that way, trying to keep his voice in a whisper and not disturb the house. He hops inside and his fears are immediately realized when he sees Tess waiting for him at the dining room table. Their eyes meet and they stare at each other in silence for a long while before she rises out of her chair and points to an empty one.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says, walking into the kitchen.

Joel sits in the chair and Tess comes back in, motioning for him to put his leg up on the bench next to him, setting a cloth ice pack gently on his injured leg. She slowly sits down and resumes looking at him. A long silence passes between them.

“You gonna make me ask?”

“Ask what?” he says casually, then she pins him with a look and he drops all pretense, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure Sasha already told you.”

“She didn’t tell me why.”

“Why? You already know that too.”

“I know you were out there at the farm, Joel, sneakin’ around, messin’ with her stuff, fuckin’ with her head, I don’t know what all you get up to. But why, Joel? Why?”

“What do you care, anyway?”

“Why can’t you leave her alone?” she hisses

“Why is that any of your fuckin’ business?”

Tess slams her hand down on the table and hisses, “You made it my business when you brought her into my house.”

“Your house, is it?”

“You’re goddamn right it’s my house, and I take care of everyone in it. I sent her to the farm to get some relief from you and your behavior, and you can’t show one ounce of self control? Who the fuck are you?”

“I don’t think–”

“No, you’re not thinkin’, that’s the problem,” she interrupts. He’s stunned into silence. “I’ve taken a lotta shit in my life, Joel, and I’ll keep taking it if it’s for the greater good. I’ve followed you around for years and I’m loyal, but I ain’t stupid. I see you slipping. Everyone does. Everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve sacrificed for you… you gotta play your role.”

“I’m tired of it,” he whispers.

“You’re not tired of everything it gets you.”

He grumbles at that and mutters something like it doesn’t get me what I really want, and she knows he means you. She knows he still wants you, even when he pretends like he doesn’t. She sees the way he purposely avoids you and looks the other way when you come near. It’s all bullshit bravado, and she fuckin’ knows it. She knows he’s sad, lonely, heartbroken without you. But she needs him to either put up or shut up. Admit it or move on. She can’t have him stuck in this loop of destruction.

“Leave her be, Joel. It’s done with her, it’s over.”

—

Two weeks go by in a blur, Joel doesn’t sneak away to the farm, he avoids Amber at the Thursday meetings, he steers clear of you at the Sunday service. He goes where Tess tells him to go, meets with who she tells him to meet with. His leg heals well and he’s back on his feet much sooner than the doctor expected him to be. He spends his days working with the gardeners in town to get ready for spring planting, and the evenings working in his office to schedule patrols and plan maintenance for sections of the perimeter fencing.

He keeps his head down and keeps his mind occupied. He starts to feel better, and then he’ll lie in bed at night and he’ll hear the door to the tiny room across the hall close and remember you’re not there. It cuts like a knife in his hollow chest, the slow thumping of his heart echoing in its empty chamber. He feels bad for going the whole day without missing you and his stomach gets tied up in knots over everything that happened.

He tries so hard not to think of you, to keep his mind busy with anything else… until he can’t. Until everyone stands up as he introduces Bianca’s baby to the community and then everyone sits back down and there you are. You’re standing in the middle of a pew halfway back, staring daggers through him. Looking at him like he just slapped you in the face. He can’t help but look at you – for the first time in over two months – and watch you come undone.

He sees you run out of the sanctuary and only Tess’ iron grip clawing at his elbow keeps him from running after you. After the service he tells her he’ll meet them in the hall for lunch and she reluctantly leaves him, mouthing behave yourself as she goes.

And then you’re in front of him again, the both of you looking into each other’s eyes. There’s so much fire in yours, he hasn’t seen you look like this since the first day he saw them, backed into a corner of the clinic like a trapped animal, teeth bared and ready to pounce. You start snapping at him, biting him with your words, and he can’t fucking help himself. He bites at you right back. Every sharp barb of your tongue, every click of your fangs, he’s spurred on to hiss and claw in response. You call him a liar and then tell him you don’t care when it couldn't be more obvious that you do.

Why won’t you just admit that you care? Why won’t you just admit that you miss him? Why are you so afraid of the truth?

You brush by him, purposely knocking his arm with your shoulder as you exit and when he turns to follow you he sees Tess in the doorway. She walks up to him and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until her arms close around him and he’s sobbing into her shoulder.

“She hates me,” he heaves.

“She doesn’t hate you, Joel,” she hushes.

“She does. She thinks that was my baby.”

“Did you tell her it wasn’t?”

“No,” he sniffles.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Cause I’m incapable of doing the right thing. I just keep fucking up,” he sobs. “I keep doing the wrong thing every fucking time. I grab her, I hurt her, I say the wrong thing, I fuck it all up.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he wails.

“I do, I know why.”

“Why then?” Joel sniffles.

“It’s easier for you to push her away than it is to let her in.”

—

Joel is sitting in silence at the dinner table later that night, mindlessly picking at his plate, lost in his thoughts. The meal has long-since finished and the women are clearing the table, moving in and out of the kitchen and talking with each other. Beth is excitedly telling them about a barn cat who had kittens last year and everyone is gushing over the talk of adorable kittens.

Joel remembers Sarah finding two abandoned kittens after a soccer game one cloudy May afternoon, two flea-infested little rats hiding behind the practice field’s bathrooms. She’d carried them in her shirt back to him, all three of them crying, begging him to let her keep them. He said no a hundred times but still wound up driving all of them all the way across town to the only vet’s office open on a Saturday. Hundreds of dollars later they were stuffed full of medicine and food and were sleeping curled up in the crook of Sarah’s neck.

She told him she understood when he said they couldn’t keep them forever – allergies, he’d explained – but that didn’t stop big, fat tears from rolling down her face when she placed them into the arms of their new owners.

“You did such a good job taking care of them,” he’d told her, wiping away her tears. “You should be so proud. Look how big they got! You did that! You gave them a shot at a great life.”

“You did it too, dad,” she’d said, hugging him, telling him he also did a good job.

He didn’t do shit, he just couldn’t say no to her. And she thought he hung the moon. She thought he was some kind of a saint. Joel Miller, patron saint of disgusting, sickly little kittens. The man she thought he was… he could never be that man. Not then. Not now. Not after everything he’s done.

And then he realizes he’s sobbing again, at the dinner table, and everyone is staring at him.

“Y– You okay, Joel?” Beth asks.

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I was just… thinkin’ about Sarah.”

“Who’s Sarah?” Kerri says.

“Can everyone give us a minute?” Tess says.

The room quickly clears and Joel is still sputtering and sniffling at the head of the table. Tess sits down next to him and he slides off his chair, kneeling on the floor and burying his head in her lap, tears rolling down his face and soaking her jeans. He’s muttering I can’t lose her too and sobbing and Tess thinks this might be it, he might finally be ready to face it.

“What’s wrong, Joel?” Tess asks gently.

“She left me, I fucked up and she left, I don’t deserve her, she hates me, I’m a monster and she hates me and I don’t do anything right and I just fail over and over and she can’t stand me and all I do is–” his cries, devolve into a blubbering mess.

—

It’s just before midnight and the house is dark and quiet. Only a lamp in the living room casts a glow on them – Tess and Joel on the couch – where they’ve been sitting and talking for hours. He’s finally calmed down, having talked through months-worth, if not years-worth, of feelings with her. Things they’ve already talked about, things she’s suspected but never had confirmed, and secrets they’ve kept even from each other. It felt cathartic, like a weight lifted from the both of them, and they sit in companionable silence before they head up to bed.

A loud, frantic knocking at the front door makes both of them jump. Tess goes to answer it and all Joel hears is a tandem of words, spilling out like a waterfall so quickly he can only catch some of them. Not in bed… looked everywhere… can’t find... He gets up from his seat and heads to the door, freezing when he sees Danny and Diego’s harrowed faces standing on his darkened porch.

“W– what’s goin’ on?” Joel asks, looking between the two men and Tess.

Tess grabs his arm, bracing him.

“She left.”

🖤

As always, muchas gracias to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk for sticking with me through my highs and my lows, my slumps, and my manic incessant babbling about CJ.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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mari-the-bimbo · 8 months

Note

hi! can you write something about dorm mate!geto arguing with reader but then they would apologize (idk whose fault it was) please 🙏

A/N: Thanks for the idea bby!! Plot twist: they don’t apologise, you know I love miscommunication tropes right? 😋

Dorm mate Geto: Just friends

It’s Friday night and you find yourself at one of Gojo party friends’ party again. It’s kind of a tradition. You, Gojo and Geto heading out for a party so get that much needed social time in your busy lives. You don’t join them all the time, but when you do, you feel good.

You and Shoko laugh at the drunk Utahime who was having the time of her life. You enjoyed watching your usually uptight friend letting herself go once in a while.

But when she started loudly explaining why Gojo was unfuckable, you and Shoko decided maybe it was time to leave the party.

“Come on Princess” Shoko says sarcastically to Utahime, while you help bring the drunk girl to her feet. “Let’s get you home. Hey y/n, you need a ride home babe?” Shoko asks, swirling the car keys around her finger.

“Nah I’m good thanks Shoko” you say with a smile. “I’ll see if Geto’s ready to go” you add, knowing Gojo was probably hooking up with someone right now.

“Cool. See you later chick” Shoko says and you wave goodbye to them before walking back to find Geto. You check your phone, 00:31 it reads. Past midnight, okay time to leave a party right?

You squint, looking to find the black long haired man, but when you finally spotted him, you wished you didn’t.

Your handsome dorm mate sat on a sofa, with some pretty girl wrapping her slender arms around his broad shoulders. He whispers something in her ear with his signature lazy smirk, the girl laughs brightly. No doubt Geto said a dry but flirty joke, something you thought was reserved only for you.

You think you feel a bit sick. Heartbroken was what you actually felt. He hasn’t seen you yet, you hope it stays that way. You hope he didn’t see you foolishly waiting on him, while he got cosy with some other girl.

Was it always like this? Did he always get cosy with other girls but your delusions made you think it was only you? How silly. What you once thought was a sweet blooming romance between you and a dear friend was nothing more than a minor situationship to him.

You turn your heel and speed out the house before you could embarrass yourself anymore.

1:01 AM

You swirl your ramen absentmindedly in the pot, hoping the warm noodles will fill the emptiness you feel in your stomach.

Suddenly you hear the door open and shut. You didn’t dare look up, there’s so much to stay but you choose to stay silent, hoping Geto won’t notice you in the dim lighting in his drunk state.

But that never works.

“You hungry doll?” Geto chuckles as he spots you. You don’t answer, scared your voice will crack.

“Well how about I help out and make you some hot cocoa yeah?” He says, with a smile that feels fake to you now.

“No. I don’t want a drink” you say abruptly, you cringe internally, knowing how rude you sounded, but you can’t help but feel resentful.

Geto stops in his tracks, slowly turning towards you, long hair strands framing his face.

“You okay hun?”

You wince, ‘hun’ was the last thing you needed to be called by the man who just broke your heart.

You silently just stare at your ramen, trying to play it cool, be the chill girl who doesn’t really care, but you already messed up. You were a born a person who cared too much.

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

“What? Why?” He says, an unimpressed frown on his handsome face. You stare silently at your ramen again.

You sigh when Geto pushes in front of you and turns off the stove so that he can have your attention.

“Look at me and tell me what’s wrong” he says.

You cross your arms almost in defence, disobeying him by staring out the window instead. “What am I to you Geto?”

“My favourite girl, of course” he answered softly in a heartbeat, taking a step closer to you, but you move backwards.

You shake your head. “No” you say, “that’s not what I am. What is our relationship? Are we friends or more?”

The room falls silent.

You sigh, wishing you never asked and hurt your own feelings. The silence answered your question. Friends.

“If we are friends, then we should put some distance between us” you say bravely.

You look up at Geto, to find the usually composed, chill guy look shattered. Black eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open. You’ve never seen Geto look off guard, you almost feel bad.

“Oi… what do you mean by that?” You can hear the anger bubbling through his throat, he’s trying his best to stay calm.

“I mean stop flirting and touching me Geto, do that with the girls you’re romantically interested in” you assert your stance, slightly raising your voice to your own surprise.

“Thats-“ Geto starts but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

He pauses before starting, now stepping away from you.

“I’m.. sorry I caused any inconvenience for you. I won’t do it again.” He says formally, putting his hands in his pockets and walking out the small dorm kitchen. Black hair stands dangling in front of his face as he keeps his head down.

Leaving you alone with your broken heart again.

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principledpropo · 2 years

Text

Does she… hate her children? Despise having to be involved in any way - does the action of simply discussing Damian piss this woman off?

Because if so, then god damn I love it, because we get to see the truly perfect antithesis to Loid and Yor.

The Forgers aren’t perfect, but the way they involve themselves in Anya’s life is beautiful. It’s warm and loving while teaching her to make and respect boundaries (that’s difficult for a telepath lmao), but their walls almost always come crashing down the second they find themselves alone in each other’s company. Loid may be strict and Yor may be a little too enthusiastic, but every action they take for Anya is for her sake, and every mistake they make is an experience they immediately learn from to better raise Anya.

The Desmonds aren’t physically abusive, nor do they scream nor degrade their kids. Both Desmond scions are clearly well-off, having wealth and service in spades. Everything they could ever want, at the snap of their fingers. Except their parent’s love and attention. Donovan sees his sons as tools to further his name and goals, while Melinda (and this is just conjecture) shows shades of a woman who never wanted children and is searching for ways to live and enjoy her life free of their burden.

(Little tangent, but people, women especially, shouldn’t be saddled with kids if they do not wish to. Their body, their choice, and no one should ever say otherwise. That being said, when the child is born, the parent has a lifelong responsibility to that child, and regret is no longer an option. I see so many parents who practically begged to have kids, but ended up resenting them, and in turn their kids grow and feel the same way to them. You can never let your children feel like they are a mistake. Never.)

To Donovan, his children are materials that can be shaped into weapons for his political gain and clout. To Melinda, (again, just a hunch), they are nuisances she can’t be bothered to deal with.

But Loid and Yor, who don’t share a single drop of blood with Anya? Who created and joined their family for self-protection? They can’t stop themselves - they shower Anya with love. They can’t spoil her with gifts like Becky and Damien get, but they never starve Anya of what matters most: their love, their time, and their energy. Anya is an esper - if she grew up with people like Desmonds, she’d know immediately she was unloved. Hell, she has! Returned to foster homes again and again. So it is beautiful that a girl who can read her parent’s anxieties and fears has never once heard them think she was a mistake (well other than that first episode with Loid lol). They have had every opportunity to grow resentful of Anya, but they never have. They think the world of her. Mr. “It’s for the mission” Twilight bends over backwards on a whim for his daughter. Yor “I won’t let my daughter die in school” Forger would commit war crimes if she even thought her precious child got a boo boo.

The Desmonds, at best, see their children as investments and at worst mistakes. But no matter what Anya does, good or bad, it doesn’t ever change their perspective of her.

She isn’t just a cover child to them. She’s their daughter, and they’d shake heaven and earth for her when the Desmonds can’t even be bothered to attend their son’s orientation day.

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gravitywonagain · 4 months

Text

Inquiring Minds

holy shit, i finished a thing. well, a draft of a thing, but still counts!

based on this post about wwx being just dead enough be susceptible to the compulsion of inquiry

It was, in retrospect, the stupidest possible way to be found out. Wei Wuxian will readily admit that. Unfortunately, the level of stupidity was not a determining factor for the level of reality — as was the case for so much of Wei Wuxian’s life.

It all happened because one of the two dozen Jin disciples who bothered to show up to the war got a little drunk and a lot prideful and ended up starting a fight he couldn’t finish. Or, that was the going theory, anyway. The Jin leadership — such as it was — wanted an investigation done. As if they had nothing better to do. As if there weren’t reasons to be conserving spiritual power and not wasting it playing Inquiry for a guy who had decided to pick a fight — hopefully, hopefully it was a fight — with a Nie disciple who, granted, did not have the startling musculature of some of her shixiongs, but was still a fucking Nie disciple!

This guy was not worth their time. This guy was not worth Lan Zhan’s time. Or his attention, or his spiritual power, or the stress it would put on his guqin strings— okay, maybe Wei Wuxian should have taken a moment to purge some of his resentment before walking into the tent.

But he didn’t. This is important.

Because then Lan Zhan began to play.

And there was this strange… tugging sensation in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s gut, right where his golden core was supposed to be, pulling him toward Lan Zhan, or toward the empty space in front of Lan Zhan.

Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have ignored it. He gets that now. He does. But he always wanted to be near Lan Zhan, and his body had been doing all kinds of weird shit since he’d had his core cut out, and who was to say this wasn’t just another weird side effect.

Well. It was. A weird side effect. After a fashion.

But that’s not the point!

He should have noticed then. He should have left then. But he didn’t.

The melody changed and the tugging sensation stopped. Which was great!

Until something else started. It felt like a kind of drunkenness, light and hazy in his head, loose around his tongue. Three or four bowls in.

He shook himself to dislodge it, but the motion only drew a sharp glare from Jiang Cheng.

The tent was full of spectators. At least two representatives from each major clan were present, plus several “close friends” of the victim -- like four of the fifteen total Jin disciples -- who probably just wanted something else to do outside of eat, sleep, and fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t blame them, exactly, war was remarkably boring most of the time, but it was getting awfully stuffy in there.

Lan Zhan changed the melody again, something almost lexical about it. Wei Wuxian could almost hear the question being asked, even before Zewu Jun’s voice chimed in, translating for anyone who didn’t know the qin language — which was pretty much everyone else in the tent besides the Twin Jades — “What is your name?”

Wei Wuxian caught his own response between his lips, pressing them together tightly, as the guqin sounded three distinct notes which Zewu Jun reported as Jin Zixin.

So, good. It was the right guy. That was great. Nothing weird at all.

He should have left then. He didn’t.

Lan Zhan played again, and again Wei Wuxian thought he understood the phrase, the question, even before Zewu Jun said for the tent, “How did you die?”

Wei Wuxian felt the answer fly to the tip of his tongue and bit his teeth around it, through it. His cheek bled with the force of keeping quiet.

It was weird. So weird. But maybe, Wei Wuxian justified to himself, maybe it was just an effect of holding a secret inside for so long and having someone actually ask the question out loud. Maybe, it was just the same automatic reaction of answering with your name when someone asked for it. Maybe he was just too fucking tired, and the resentment under his skin just wanted something to laugh at, something to entertain itself with. Like the five of ten Jins standing in the back of the tent. War was boring, okay?

The notes from Lan Zhan’s guqin hung in the air, resonant and waiting. The moment seemed to stretch out too long. It dragged and Wei Wuxian gradually felt the words stop fighting him to escape.

But the Jin ghost didn’t answer either.

When Lan Zhan played the same phrase over — “How did you die?” echoed on Zewu Jun’s tongue — the compulsion was much stronger. This time it was like Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Zhan’s spiritual power pouring through him; the strongest of wines, several jars of it.

He couldn’t fight it.

His mouth opened.

I fell. I fell. I fell.

“I fell.”

All eyes in the tent turned to him.

Jiang Cheng’s elbow caught him in the ribs. He didn’t even bother to glare. He said, “Not you, Idiot.”

The qin sounded and everybody looked back to Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun, waiting to hear the Jin disciple’s answer.

Zewu Jun hesitated for the barest of moments, stuttering into the start of his translation before finding the confidence of his voice once more, recounting whatever it was that the ghost had strummed out.

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear a word he said. He was, instead, pierced on two sides.

On one: Jiang Cheng muttered to himself, “Wait,” and then his eyes went wide as he looked back at Wei Wuxian.

On the other: Lan Zhan’s fingers froze above the strings of his guqin and he turned to stare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian with something like horrified understanding dawning within his gaze.

Wei Wuxian finally realized he should fucking leave. Immediately.

He wanted to run. He knew better. Knew what that would look like.

Instead, he was going to simply walk out of this tent as he had walked out of so many already during this campaign. Gravel crunched under his heel as he turned.

But his brother knew him too well. Jiang Cheng’s hand clamped tight around Wei Wuxian’s bicep, his grip unyielding. With his golden core, Wei Wuxian might have been able to break it. But the real bitch of it was that it was his golden core that was holding him in place.

Jiang Cheng tensed as if readying for a fight, but Wei Wuxian already knew how that fight would end. So he let himself be restrained.

He turned back to face the Inquiry.

Lan Zhan was still staring at him when Zewu Jun finished speaking. He was still so stuck in place that his brother had to prompt him into finishing the ritual. Which he did, with all the grace and skill expected of him. He really was just so beautiful to watch.

All the while, Wei Wuxian listened to the music and bit through his tongue to keep it silent. The questions continued to drag at him -- “Do you know who killed you?” Wen Chao. “Do you have any last requests?” To leave this fucking tent. -- though the pressure to answer eased significantly as the Jin ghost became less stubborn about it. Wei Wuxian settled for reciting the answers to them in his head until they no longer felt pressed against the thin seam of his mouth.

It took approximately sixteen-hundred years.

All seven Jin disciples supporting the war effort left the tent after the ghost had recounted his final moments. The attempted sexual assault was not unexpected, judging by their faces, but still disappointing to hear about. Clearly not the entertainment they were hoping for. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, they were apparently too wrapped up in their Jin nonsense to realize new entertainment was fidgeting in the corner and trying not to sever the tip of his tongue completely.

The Nie, represented by Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, left shortly after the ritual concluded. If Nie Mingjue had to tug his brother away, Wei Wuxian was too busy keeping his mouth shut to comment on it.

And then there were just the four of them. Plus the corpse. But they were like six months into a war, so the corpse didn’t actually seem to bother any of them. It hadn’t even started to smell yet. It was still pretty intact, too, and now that it was verifiably a criminal, Wei Wuxian wondered idly if the Jin would let him use it in their next battle. Probably not.

His idle wondering ceased abruptly as his brother’s fingers bit deeper into the meat of his arm.

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, all of his surely filial worry for his gege boiling over into a spitting, incandescent fury. He never had to say he loved his brother, Wei Wuxian could always tell. It was the teeth gnashing that gave him away. “What the fuck do you mean you fell?”

Right.

Wei Wuxian played it as cool as he could with a definitely-not-bleeding tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jiang Cheng.” He shrugged, but his arm didn’t move very far.

“You answered Inquiry,” said Lan Zhan. Succinct as ever.

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, maybe a little too loud, but not at all childishly.

Zewu Jun narrowed his eyes and pulled out his xiao. Wei Wuxian tried not to flinch about it, he did. But Zewu Jun only played a short, non-Inquiry melody, and a shimmering, blue barrier manifested around the interior of the tent.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time at a totally normal volume. “I was just… messing around. You know how I do that, Lan Zhan. Always a rule breaker.” He grinned, desperately trying to play it all off. Realizing faster and faster how very badly this was going for him.

Lan Zhan surprised him, then, saying, “Not when it matters.”

“What?”

“Wei Ying doesn’t break rules when they matter.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the fuck that was coming from. But he couldn’t say he hated it.

Except that he did, because it was going to be a problem for this whole I’m just a silly rascal defense he was setting up.

Jiang Cheng still hadn’t let go of his arm. His fingernails were starting to split the fabric of his sleeve. And worse, his eyebrows were scrunched together in the way they do when he’s thinking through all the angles of a problem.

Zewu Jun still had his xiao in hand, and he was looking at Wei Wuxian like he was deciding whether to perform an exorcism or an execution.

But Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan hadn’t moved from his seat on the mat. He had turned his body so that he was facing Wei Wuxian, giving him his full attention, and was looking up at him with… pain in his eyes. Shining, wet pain.

“You died?” he asked. “Are you dead?”

“I don’t…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. He couldn’t find the words.

He didn’t know. Which was, possibly, not the best sign.

“I can’t be dead,” he said, looking over at Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng, then back to Lan Zhan. “Can I?”

Zewu Jun, still wary, said, “You responded to the compulsion in Inquiry. Inquiry is a song that speaks to and compels answers from the dead. It does not generally work on the living.”

“Well--” Wei Wuxian started, defensive and scared. But again, he didn’t really know where to go with that.

“Where were you, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asked him. “Why didn’t you meet me at the bottom of the hill?”

Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun shared a look. They didn’t seem to know what Jiang Cheng was talking about. But Wei Wuxian really, really, didn’t want to get into that whole mess. If anyone was going to see right through him and his flimsy tale about suddenly remembering the location of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, it would be Lan Zhan. Actually, Zewu Jun would probably figure it out, too. And then maybe even Jiang Cheng. Now that he wasn’t all broken and desperate and gullible.

Fuck. With the way Jiang Cheng was looking at Wei Wuxian, the way his hand released some of the pressure around his arm, he might already have.

Wei Wuxian laughed, hoping it came off more smoothly than it felt in his chest. “Ah, Jiang Cheng.” He brought his own hand up to lay over his brother’s. “What if I told you--”

“No,” Jiang Cheng cut him off. “No more bullshit. Where were you?”

The mirth, false as it was, drained out of Wei Wuxian as he saw the pain building behind his brother’s eyes.

There was movement in his periphery and then Lan Zhan was standing on his other side. His fingers wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s other arm with a much gentler grip than Jiang Cheng’s. Something imploring about the touch. Like he was seeking confirmation to a theory, or maybe proving to himself that Wei Wuxian was actually there.

“I…” Wei Wuxian trailed off.

Zewu Jun’s gaze was hard as steel, but aimed, it seemed, at Lan Zhan’s hand, rather than at Wei Wuxian in general.

“There was a rumor,” he said in slow, even words, “that Wen Chao had thrown you into the Burial Mounds.” He waited a moment after he finished speaking, as if trying to reconcile the words himself, before he looked up to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes.

Of course, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to meet Zewu Jun’s eyes. He didn’t want to meet any of their eyes. He wanted very much to be out of this tent and away from knowing gazes altogether.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite figured out how to teleport using resentful energy yet. So in the tent he remained.

He looked down at his feet. His boots were crusted with dirt and blood and other bodily fluids. War really was super gross, in addition to being largely boring.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, still looking down. “Everyone knows that nothing leaves the Burial Mounds.”

Lan Zhan’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s arm. Jiang Cheng’s loosened, but didn’t let go.

“Yeah,” said Jiang Cheng, like an accusation, “it would be impossible.”

Wei Wuxian still didn’t look up from his feet which meant that he missed whatever silent conversation happened between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan that had both of them tightening their grips on his arms just before fingers were pressed to the pulse points of his wrists. He struggled, flailing as much as he could, but against Lan Zhan’s golden core and his own, he stood no chance. He could barely budge them.

He screamed but the sound only reverberated inside the tent.

The only thing he could think to do was to call up the dead. The dead man still lying in front of them. The Jin. Rapist. Criminal. He could use that wicked corpse to fight off the people holding him down, taking his secrets. Smoke curled out of his sleeves and he--

He stopped himself.

It was over anyway.

Even if they couldn’t read his spiritual energy, or lack thereof, his fighting them was confirmation enough.

He went limp in their grasp. His knees buckled.

It really was the stupidest possible way to be found out.

“Where is it?” asked Jiang Cheng. But it was clear from his voice that he already knew the answer.

Lan Zhan was silent.

Zewu Jun looked to his brother for an answer, not understanding what they had just discovered.

“His golden core,” said Lan Zhan. “It’s gone.”

“Wen Zhuliu?” Zewu Jun asked.

But Jiang Cheng made a sound that was somehow both a laugh and a sob.

Wei Wuxian regained control of his arms. He sprawled himself out on the tent floor, exhausted from his struggle. He laughed, too. “After a fashion.”

Jiang Cheng fell to the ground next to him, hands cradling the place where Wei Wuxian’s core now spun. “What the fuck?” he said, quietly, to no one in particular. Then, loudly, to Wei Wuxian in particular, “What the fuck!”

His cheeks were wet. Jiang Cheng’s, his own. He looked over to confirm, and yeah, Lan Zhan’s too. Zewu Jun had nothing to cry over, except maybe confusion, but he was too cool for that, so he just stood in the middle of the tent, shocked, presumably, as his brother, another sect leader, and a demonic cultivator broke down around him.

Wei Wuxian stared up at the tented canvas ceiling and cursed himself for not leaving the tent when he first noticed something wrong.

“Jiang Cheng,” he started, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a wet yell.

“Why would you do that, you fucking idiot?! What the fuck were you even thinking?! How did you-- How--”

He seemed to lose steam trying to figure out what happened on “Baoshen Sanren’s mountain” and potentially also why Baoshen Sanren’s voice sounded so familiar.

Zewu Jun’s voice was remarkably calm for a man witnessing-- whatever he made of what he was currently witnessing. He said, “Wei Wuxian, I believe your Sect Leader would like to know how you lost your golden core.”

Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Because yes and no.

“No, Zewu Jun,” he said, still laughing. He tried to stop, but it was just too funny. “No,” he said again, slightly more sober, “he wants to know why and how he now has my golden core.”

He didn’t really mean to say it. He felt drunk again, like he did when Lan Zhan was playing Inquiry. Ready to spill all his secrets at only the slightest provocation. Zewu Jun could probably ask him just about anything right now -- Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng too, for that matter -- and he would answer it. It wasn’t exactly a safe mindset to be in. But he couldn’t really do anything about that now.

At least there was some kind of privacy barrier over the tent.

Zewu Jun stood. Speechless.

Lan Zhan’s tears fell silently.

Jiang Cheng glared, hands clutched tight against his lower dantian -- whether to hold something inside or to tear it out, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure.

Wei Wuxian felt light as a feather. Drunk and dizzy with it. A weight had been lifted, he supposed, but one he was never supposed to let go. His laughter died down to the occasional press of his lungs. Tears collected in his eyelashes until everything was blurry.

Emptiness yawned inside him, but it was gentler somehow. As if the secret itself had been clawing away at his slowly healing wounds.

“Fuck,” he said with a hiccup of a laugh. And again, quieter, “Fuck.”

He really should have left the fucking tent.

Also, wait. Was he dead?!

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #lan xichen #inquiry.mp3 #mdzs #the untamed #cql #fanfiction #my writing #inquiring minds #hey look i wrote a thing!#i actually finished a draft of something!#now if only i can aim this energy toward projects that other people actually care about...........

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