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sukunasweetheart · 10 months

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Thinking of breakup angst with sukuna...

Thinking of the build up towards it, the way you have been fighting over the littlest things for months now

It leads you to think about how self centered he can be, how you always feel like you loved him more than he loved you and how crushing it felt to have that realisation fall upon you every time

He can be so career focused sometimes, with the long business trips, work parties, etc. always working vehemently to get higher, threatening to leave you behind

And one particular night, the argument gets so heated that you dont get a wink of sleep afterwards, only staring blankly at nothing as you try to calm the chaos in your head. Sukuna heads out without a word the next morning, and you make the final decision in your head, alone, by yourself.

By the time sukuna comes back home with the intent of reconciliation, he finds that youre packing the remainder of your belongings into a suitcase in the bedroom, ready to move out of his home.

"what the fuck is all this?" he asks, his tone coming out harsher than he means it to be.

"what do you think? i'm breaking up with you. i'm moving out," you can barely stop your voice from wavering. you've cried too much this week.

"oh, come on. you know you don't mean that," he reaches out to grab your arm, but you withdraw away from his hand so fiercely that it even surprises him.

"don't you talk to me like that," you speak firmly, "like i'm being dramatic. why won't you ever treat me seriously? i am leaving, sukuna."

you continue your work, neatly folding up some of your shirts. you're already almost finished. he looks around, and the house looks half empty.

oh. you really mean it. you're really trying to leave.

"no, you're not. you're not leaving. not after everything we've been through together," he tells you defensively, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from folding your last shirt, trying to get you to look at him again.

"like what? constantly yelling at each other until our throats are sore? i'm really sick of it. and i'm sure you are, too."

"don't put words in my mouth. i may have gotten sick of our fighting, but i've never gotten sick of you," sukuna hisses, refusing to let you continue packing your things. you feel yourself getting swayed by his words.

"well, i am. i've gotten sick of you," you say quietly through gritted teeth.

"oh yeah? say it to me properly then. look at me dead in the eyes," he demands, voice getting lower.

"you heard me. i don't need to say it again." you pull away from his grip and try to get this last shirt folded. he grabs you again, by the hand this time, and the piece of clothing unravels once more.

"no, i didn't hear shit. convince me that you really want to leave me - and i'll let you go."

in a fit of anger, you turn to face him completely, but your resolve crumbles away when you see his expression. not the one you'd assigned to him in your own mind, but his true features, under the bright bedroom lights.

he looks serious. he looks concerned. he's asking you to tell him it's not true. tell him that you want to stay.

"...let me go. i'm leaving..." you say, voice finally breaking. like a broken faucet, your eyes begin leaking tears relentlessly and your throat closes up in that painful way that you hate, but nothing compares to the pain in your heart at the thought of really breaking up with this man here and now.

he lets you go...

and calmly takes your things out of the suitcase to put them back. you didn't miss the relief in his eyes that showed up for that split second.

"bring it back! i hate you," you attempt to raise your voice, but really, it's only just your ego speaking.

"you can't even say that you hate me in the correct tone. we're not breaking up," he mutters, hanging up your coats and putting them into the closet.

having been defeated, your legs give way and you sit down on the side of the bed, sobbing.

through the blur of your tears, you watch as he meticulously goes through your suitcase, putting everything where they belong. and you sob harder. he knows too much. he arranges your creams, perfumes and accessories in the perfect order on the dresser. he spends a good fifteen minutes, putting all of your belongings back where they should be.

and by the time he gets back to you, he's like a different man. the mattress dips from his weight as he sits next to you, bringing a box of tissues with him to wipe your tears away.

"we can talk tomorrow since we're both tired today," sukuna tells you as he dabs your eyes with the tissue, "i'll take the day off." you just sit still without responding. now that he mentioned it, the fatigue seems to fall upon you suddenly, like a brick. he coaxes you under the sheets.

soon, you find yourself in bed, in his arms. it's been a while since the two of you had cuddled so intimately. you feel oddly shy, the same way you did all those years ago when you first started dating him. there's a special kind of warmth that sukuna's body emits - and you're surrounded by it under these blankets.

"i'll try to do better... so don't go anywhere," he speaks with a softer tone.

because, it's true, he can't imagine living a life without you.

those are the last words you hear before you drift off to sleep.

the next morning, he's still in bed with you, and you're pleased to see he kept his word about taking the day off. checking the mirror, you're horrified and embarrassed about your swollen eyes from all the crying last night.

sukuna takes a look at you and chuckles without ill intent. but in your flustered state, you slap his arm until he's saying "my bad, my bad" in between laughs.

there's still some awkward tension between you and him, but going through breakfast together seems to melt some of that away, until you're ready to bring up yesterday's event.

it goes better than you'd expected, and after the discussion, the only thing that's left is to wait and see whether things will change for the better or not. whether his promises are empty or not.

"i didn't realise that you were so lonely. 'm sorry," he apologises as he plays with your hand, "i may work a lot, but you're always on my mind, doll."

it's like a huge weight off your shoulders.

and he begins to be more like his playful self again, after the talk.

"i'll need you to tell me that you love me today. since you told me you hated me yesterday," sukuna says with a smirk, hugging you from behind.

"well, you need to earn it," you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

"alright. will you say it back if i say it first?"

"sure."

"i love you."

"..."

"now that's not fair, is it?" he tickles you without mercy.

you burst out in laughter, thrashing around uncontrollably, trying to push him away.

"okay, okay! i love you!" you tell him in between breaths.

seemingly satisfied, he lets you go and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. he'll never let you go.

the following day after work, sukuna comes home earlier than usual, and he doesn't wear a grumpy expression in front of you. he greets you with a hug and kiss. it's a small gesture, but it makes you happy.

and slowly, the relationship begins to rekindle itself.

#crazyy how everything changes overnightt hahaha #blame it on the power of communication #my sensitive ass cant handle breakups or prolonged conflict so i had to make it cheesy at the end sorryy #maybe one day i'll be able to post proper heartbreak haha #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #soft sukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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poeticpascal · 10 months

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I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!�� You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went.

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him.

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).”

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him.

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky.

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.”

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones. You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again.

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you.

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss.

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands.

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked.

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness.

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants.

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet.

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap.

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh.

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance.

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-”

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it.

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars.

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl.

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear.

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up.

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.”

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest.

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

#dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal #tlou fic #tlou show

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to-thelakes · 4 months

Text

sick day (well... sick month)

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; after yet another doctor's appointment, frank takes care of his sick - and frustrated - girlfriend

warnings; fluffy as hell, mentions of medication, discussions of eczema and being sick with the flu, brief mention of guns

notes; this is my first time posting my one-shots on tumblr so hello! i've done a little bit of posting on ao3 but i've always been a little scared to post here but here i am! now, this fic, it is a purely self-indulgent fluffy fic and it's the first in my fluffbruray fics. i'm hoping to do a fic every day of this month but i'm in uni and about to start a new job so whether that will happen is anyone's guess! but this fic is just some frank fluff because i've been going through a bunch of health issues and i needed the comfort from my favourite big bad punisher <3 i did proof-read it but it's not beta-read or anything so apologies for any grammar mistakes! i hope you enjoy <3

ao3

When you trudged back into the apartment after your appointment at the clinic, Frank could tell something was wrong. He had been cleaning up his guns at the table when he heard the door close. There was no call of his name or any sort of greeting; only a quiet shuffle of shoes being discarded and your coat being hung up. A frown was quick to spread across his face as he pushed the chair back, walking to meet you in the hallway.

“Everythin’ alright, sweetheart?” He asked. You looked up at him, tears welling in your eyes as you shook your head. He frowned but was quick to wrap you up into a hug. Your face buried in his strong chest as you sniffled.

“Apparently it’s normal and there’s nothing they can do to help me,” You mumbled against the fabric of his shirt. It smelt like him and that seemed to make it all so much better. Frank sighed and he used one of his hands to cradle the back of your head. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you somehow closer.

“We’ll figure something out, yeah?” He said. You sniffled before nodding your head. You didn’t know what you were going to do. It had been over a month and you didn’t feel any better. It was exhausting. When you had gotten the flu, you hadn’t expected to still feel the effects now. You’d never had it before and you were at the point where you wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Your health had plummeted and it was infuriating.

It also didn’t help that your new-found eczema had spread to your nose. You had done everything that the doctor had told you yet he still seemed out to punish you. You had never felt more disgusting and your nose hurt constantly. The constant dripping and blocking from when you had the flu would go away with time - apparently - but you didn’t really believe that at this point.

“I’m so tired,” You mumbled. Frank sighed and he pressed a kiss to your hair before pulling back. He cupped your face with his hands, looking into your eyes.

“You put the cream on yet?” He asked, his voice was gruff but soft. You shook your head and he nodded, glancing back at the table. The gun was still in parts but you were more important to him right now so he slipped his hand into yours, “Let me help ya put it on.” You nodded and he led you over to the bathroom. You stripped your jeans off and he grabbed the cream from where you had left it the night before.

“At least my leg is getting better,” You muttered, attempting to be optimistic. Frank smiled at you, glad to see some of your normal self coming back to the surface. He couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t broken his heart seeing how crushed you had been recently. Getting out of bed for work had been a struggle every day but you had managed to do it and he was proud of you.

“Attagirl.” That familiar grin had spread across his face and you couldn’t help but smile back; though that made your nose hurt.

The cold winter air had made the eczema on your nose sting on your walk back to the apartment but you knew that it would be okay as soon as the cream was on.

“Put your leg up,” He said once he had gotten down on one knee. He patted his thigh and you lifted your foot up, resting it there. He squeezed a fingertip of cream onto his finger before spreading it across the marks on the side of your thighs. It didn’t tingle as much as it had the first few times you put it on but there was still an uncomfortable feeling that lingered.

“He said that the flu probably caused the eczema, not my medication,” You said after a beat of silence. Frank had switched out to the moisturiser now and was spreading it across the underside of your thigh as you spoke. Frank scoffed and lifted his hand away from your leg, tapping your calf. You put your leg down.

“Course,” He commented. You could tell by the look on his face as he clambered back to his feet that he didn’t believe that. You didn’t really either. Frank cleaned his hands off before reaching for the steroid cream again.

“He still dropped the dosage but I dunno,” You mumbled, not entirely sure what you were trying to say. You just felt frustrated and it felt like nobody was really taking you seriously. You knew something was wrong and maybe it was just your medication but it still felt frustrating that nobody seemed to care enough to talk through everything with you.

“One step at a time,” He mumbled and you nodded. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and you moved to stand between his thighs as he angled your face towards him. He then spread the small dot of cream onto your nostril where the eczema had begun to spread.

“Thank you,” You said after a moment. Frank switched out for the moisturiser again and began to dab across your nose. He was being careful. He knew how sensitive your face was at the moment and he didn’t want to cause you any more pain.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” He responded before letting go of your face. The cream would take a few minutes to soak in but then there would at least be some relief from the aching pain. He leant forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead before you stepped out of the way.

“I’ll make us lunch,” You suggested. Frank switched the taps on and nodded, washing his hands off, “Pasta?” A grin spread across Frank’s face - replacing the previously stoic look - and you knew that it was a yes. You chuckled, stepping towards him to press a kiss to his cheek before you disappeared out of the bathroom.

Frank had always been a pasta lover and it was the reason you had met him.

The first time you met the Big Bad Punisher, Frank had stumbled through your window - half-dead - while you were cooking one of your mum’s pasta dishes. It had been famous in your home town for how good it was and it seemed to have drawn Frank Castle in just like it had your dad to your mum all those years ago. Looking back, the scenario was amusing. But at the time, not so much.

Frankly, you had been terrified considering that the Punisher was standing in your living room demanding pasta while he was bleeding on your carpet. Initially, you had stood there frozen but then Frank nearly collapsed and you spent the night feeding him pasta and tending to his wounds. You remembered the next morning that Frank was gone and so were the leftovers. You had tried to be mad but it was somehow endearing.

You hadn’t expected to see him again but you did when you were cooking that pasta again. He had come knocking on your window and part of you wanted to berate him for stealing the leftovers but you didn’t have the heart to. The fact that you were now dating Frank still confused you sometimes. He was meant to be a terrifying, menacing murderer and yet when he was around you, he was nothing but attentive, loving and devoted.

Maybe it was the pasta is something you often mused but Frank assured you that he loved you for a lot more than your pasta. There was a sense of safety with him and just as you were finished collecting all your ingredients for the meal, he appeared, wrapping his arms around you.

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded and leant back into hold.

“Much.” He grinned and kissed your face once more before he let you return back to your cooking. He loved to watch you work.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x female reader #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #fluffbruary #reader-insert

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darling-zain · 10 months

Text

✮↳ If I Want It, I Shall Have It ↰

♡ yandere! princess x gn reader (2.5k words)♡

tw/cw: obsessive love, drugging, use of chloroform, kidnapping, reader hates the monarchy, slightly rushed ending

authors notes: im going on vacation for like a week so I probably won't be online much, here's my little gift to you all <3 (ignore how I literally had to force myself to finish this since I've been working on it for weeks-)

➼ yandere! princess Who was never really interested in romance. She had her castle, she had her garden, and everything she could ever want, so she didn't think romance was necessary for her.

➼ yandere! princess Whose parents were constantly on her case about getting married and "continuing the family legacy". She was the only daughter of the king and queen, so she was the only hope to keep the monarchy alive.

➼ yandere! princess Who would always brush them off by saying that "it's not the right time," or "I haven't found anyone I fancy yet," but she knows that nobody will cut it for her. She's too high-maintenance, too extravagant; none of the princes in her kingdom or the next would satisfy her.

➼ yandere! princess Whose parents had finally had enough of her denial, so they decided to bring the candidates to her. It was just an unchanging cycle of them introducing an over-eager prince, her rolling her eyes, dismissing him, and waiting with a bored expression for the next disappointment.

➼ yandere! princess Who would look out her window longingly, gazing up into the endless night sky with tired, hopeless eyes. "Perhaps there really is no one for me..." she whispers into the cold spring air, lying down on her delicate satin sheets. As her tired mind begins to fade, a single tear slides down her cheek and onto her powder-white pillow, a single mark of imperfection.

➼ yandere! princess Who woke up feeling even more tired than before she had slept. She groaned, rubbing her eyes with her soft, perfectly manicured hands. She slowly gets up and opens her soft pink curtains to reveal a gorgeous view of the entire kingdom; a sight she was absolutely enamoured with as a child but had now grown sick of. She slides open her glass door to step out onto her balcony, letting the wind gently caress her face. As she leans against the railings, the soft scent of freshly baked bread surrounds her. She looks down to see someone stepping out of the bakery and taking some pastries out of the oven. Their face is hidden in shadow, but she can see their mouth turn into a frown as they look up at the castle. Her eyes linger on their frame even after they've left, sighing heavily.

➼ yandere! princess Who had gotten sick and tired of her parent's desperate attempts to get her engaged, and just needed a break from them.

➼ yandere! princess Who called her chauffeur to take her out into the town, and to not tell her parents lest they bring her back.

➼ yandere! princess Who hopped into her grand carriage, looking out the window as they left the castle gates, excitedly anticipating getting to see what a normal life would be like.

"We've arrived, Princess." Her chauffeur calls from the front seat, getting out to open her door for her.

"Thank you very much," She politely nods to him, adjusting the scarf on her head. "Don't wait for me, you can head back to the castle." She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, walking into the market. She looks at everything with awe, all the ordinary stalls looking more magical to her than anything in her castle. As soon as she walks into the town square, she can hear whispers all around her.

Murmurs of "Is that Princess Asmaan?" and "No, it surely couldn't be!" float around her like dandelion seeds, drifting along the winds into every corner of the small village.

She pays them no mind, having become used to the constant whispering that follows her wherever she goes. Soon enough, that familiar scent of freshly baked pastries fills her senses. Not thinking about anything else, she follows the scent to a small building with a large oven right next to it. Her eyes are wide as she watches someone dive into the circular oven and pulls out a few scalding hot flatbreads. A look of awe and shock cross her face at the feat which, in her eyes, seemed incredible, but to you... it was just another day in the bakery.

A man walks past the counter, giving her a glance in her direction before stopping in his tracks. He looks absolutely shocked, but then smiles widely.

"Princess! It's such an honour to have you here- what brings you to our little part of town?" Your father asks in an excited tone, to which she returns the enthusiasm.

"I wanted to see how my people are doing, and I couldn't help but notice the smell of your wonderful goods! May I have two naans, please?" Her excitement is genuine, but it makes you sick.

"Of course! Y/n, bring two naans, the best of the batch!" Your father's booming voice is carried through the small building, making you roll your eyes.

"Coming..." you mumble, putting two flatbreads in a paper bag. As you walk up to the counter, you notice just who you're serving. A disgusted scowl appears on your face as you stride up to the clay table, slamming the bag onto it and glaring at her straight in the eyes. "That'll be 421." You grumble, your voice full of disdain. Your father looks at you with a shocked expression, as if to say "You dare tell the Princess to pay?!" but you remain stoic as you wait for her to reply.

"Oh... yes, of course!" She reaches into her purse and pulls out a few crisp bills, to which your father interjects.

"No, no, there's no need for that! You're the princess, after all, we should be glad just to be in your presence!" He waves his hands in front of his face, smiling nervously. You, on the other hand, snatch the bills from her hand and put them in the drawer under the counter.

"Have a nice day," You say in a monotone voice as a clear indicator for her to leave. She looks a bit taken aback but takes the hint regardless.

"Ah... you too!" She smiles brightly before turning on her heel and walking away. As she walks through the busy streets, her mind is focused on one thing; you. She's never seen someone look at her with such hatred... she's the princess, everybody loves her! Everybody except you. She found your annoyed behaviour to be quite intriguing, almost... alluring. "They're a very interesting person... i need to know more about them." She thinks as she takes a seat on a large rock in the town square, silently eating her food. She looks down at the golden brown bread, her eyes softening slightly. She takes one bite, then another, then another before realizing something. You were the person that made this. It was you who flattened it between your palms, you who sprinkled the sesame seeds on top, and you who dove into the oven to bake it. This seemingly ordinary pastry was now not ordinary at all; it was a piece of you. She smiles to herself as she eats in silence, the naan now tasting that much sweeter to her.

After another hour or so of walking through the crowded streets, she started to get bored. She walks back down the street in which your bakery resided, smirking as she went behind a few buildings and to the side of your bakery, watching with soft eyes as you move about the kitchen. You notice someone behind you, a pair of eyes staring and watching your every move. You take a deep breath, put the dough down, and turn around. You clearly don't expect to see her, causing a look of surprise to grow on your face, before quickly turning to frustration. She giggles at your expression, not saying a word.

"Why are you here?" You hiss out from behind clenched teeth.

She looks around innocently, playing with the end of her scarf. "I wanted to see how a bakery works." Her answer is truthful, but it only angers you more.

"Never seen a bakery before?" You scowl at her, going back to flipping the bread and stretching it out. "Spoiled, entitled little brat..." You mumble under your breath. "Probably never even seen someone making food since everything is done for you..."

She rests her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on the ledge of the open window as she gazes at you longingly. She stays quiet, thinking about what you just said, before speaking up. "Do you hate me?" Her question is simple in nature, but has a complicated meaning behind it. It could be a threat, a genuine question, or a test.

You've always been one to answer with your heart, so the answer comes to you naturally. "yes, I do. You're a selfish, spoiled little rat who's always had everything handed to you on a silver platter. You pretend to care about your people, but while we're all here living in literally dirt-poor conditions, you're sitting in your lavish castle without a care in the world. How could I not hate you?" You're practically seething at this point, but she doesn't care.

"You're right. I'm lucky. I could've been born into the same fate as you, working hard every day just to make ends meet. But I wasn't, and I'm so thankful for it." She sighs, standing up straight. "I'm sorry that wasn't the case for you." Her voice is slightly sad as she walks away, the cold night air enveloping her entire being. She gazes up at the large castle looming in the distance, a small frown appearing on her face. You were right, she had everything handed to her. whatever she wanted, she got. And she was going to make sure that included you as well.

iIt's late at night when she finally returns to the castle, rushing to her room with quiet feet so she doesn't wake up anyone. She opens the double doors to her bedroom and slowly walks inside. Lying down on her bed, her mind wanders to the conversation she just had.

"How could I not hate you...?" She repeats your line in a whisper, the soft moonlight cascading onto her. As she's lost in her thoughts, she stands up and walks to her closet. "How could I not hate you..." That single line plays in her mind on a loop as she grabs some dark pants and a black shirt with a matching scarf. "You've always had everything handed to you..." She mumbles as she pulls on the loose shirt. "Everything... but not you." Her voice is firm as she walks out, a stern glare in her brown eyes.

She silently opens her door and walks over to one of the many cleaning closets, sneaking inside and locking the door. As she waits for her eyes to adjust, she starts to think of a plan. Her eyes focus on a sheet of paper stuck to the back walls with a list of chemicals on them. She scans the paper before finding the one she needs. "Blue jug, Chloroform". She grabs a rag and the blue jug of chemicals as she plods through the room and to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb anyone. She sneaks down many flights of stairs while having to take breaks in between, her frail arms not being used to having to carry that much weight. When she finally reaches the entrance, she takes a deep breath and opens the door a crack, slipping through noiselessly. Walking past the castle gates and into the road behind the now silent town, she starts to wonder why she didn't just have one of her maids do it for her. She's about to return before your words come back to her in a wave. "You've always had everything handed to you... how could I not hate you..." Your words spur her on to continue with her plan, determined to prove you wrong. Perhaps if she did this on her own, you'd finally see her for who she is!

She sighs dreamily as she walks behind your bakery, peering inside the window to see if she could spot anyone. In the dusty glass window of the kitchen, she can see you sleeping at the kitchen counter. When she sees your calm resting face, she almost swoons. You've only ever looked at her with hatred, be it either to her face or up at her from the ground. Her resolve is now set, she had to change your mind.

She soaks the rag in the chemicals, wrapping her scarf around her face so she doesn't breathe it in. Her feet are quiet as she sneaks behind the counter and into the kitchen, the lack of doors making it so much easier for her to creep in. She stands directly next to your sleeping figure, a sad look crossing her face. "I'm sorry I had to do this..." She whispers before her gentle hands slowly place the rag over your nose and mouth.

A minute after she puts the rag on your face, you start to wake up. Your eyes grow wide as you realize what's happening, but with the scarf covering her face you can't see who's attacking you. You start to thrash and scream, but nobody can hear you because of the rag. She holds you down with a gentle touch so that you can't escape, and after a few more minutes, you're completely gone. She grins wildly when you stop struggling, your limp body a sign of her success. She pulls you out of the chair as carefully as she could, but she ended up dropping you because of how delicate her arms are. "You won't mind, will you, qaundom~?" She chuckles softly as she drags your limp body across the floor.

She drags you past the kitchen, the counter, and the side of the building until you're finally back behind the bakery. She takes the bottle of chemicals and ties the handle to her shirt so she doesn't have to carry them, dragging you along the grass and toward the castle. Eventually, she makes it to a door at the back of the castle, opens it, and throws you inside with all of her remaining strength, now completely winded from the trip. After taking a minute to recuperate, she takes your hand and hauls you into an empty cell that's been separated from all the others. She lays you down onto the thin mattress, dusts off her hands and looks at you lovingly.

"You were right, darling. When I want something, I get it." She walks out and closes the cell door softly so it doesn't make that much noise, the rattle of the chain lock echoing through the desolate dungeon.

"And absolutely nothing can stand in my way." Her eyes go cold for a split second as she stares at your lifeless form before turning on her heel and walking to the door.

"Don't hate me for this." With a slam of the iron door, she's gone, leaving only the faint scent of her perfume in her wake.

tags: @skylark144 @izizzl @odobun @alhaizen @decepticon-99 @twilightkitkat @red-viewe @lasagna-goob @cyphertryagain @hailchocolate @underneathablanketwithwolfkeum @angelofdarkness2 @ren-054 @emptybrain01 @phoenix-eclipses @amourzinna

#zain>>works #yandere blog #tw yandere #tw obsessive love #yandere x you #yandere writing #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader #tw kidnapping #tw drugging #soft yandere #note: qaundom means darling in dari #also thank you to my friend for helping me out on the cultural aspects of this one

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blixssily · 10 months

Note

yaaaay ∑d(°∀°d) will look out for those, can't wait!!! if its okay, can i request for jingyuan fic/hc where he remains in luofu while his s/o is a nameless on the astral express travelling the universe, and finally reunite with jingyuan after ○○○ years when the train stops by luofu again? (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

happy writing, remember to take breaks and drink/eat well ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

"it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you."

| you leave your lover behind to travel the world, one day you decide to finally come back to him.

| jing yuan x reader

˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: bad attempt at somewhat angst, reader is gender neutral, probably ooc.

˓ ꒱ authors notes: thank you so much for this request!! i'm so sorry if this isn't what you were picturing for jing yuan as i'm not too well versed in his character but i'll try my best!!

he tried to be supportive about your decision to stay on the astral express despite his many offerings for you to remain in xianzhou luofu. there's not a day that goes by that he doesn't think about you. the bed that couldn't barely fit the both of you (he insisted that it made it easier to hold you) now seemed like too much space for him. the side of the bed that you claimed as yours is now as cold as the midnight breeze. he shivers as he recalls the way you'd snake your arms around his neck, keeping him warm.

you two had almost gotten into an argument actually. when you announced that you weren't going to stay in xianzhou luofu with him. he just didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't want his afternoons to just be filled with paper work, he didn't want his home to be dead silent whenever he'd creak the door open. he didn't want the bed to be cold when he knew it wasn't meant to be.

he didn't want you gone.

he eventually came around and apologised to you though. "i'm sorry for what i've said before. if this would really make you happy, they by all means go for it. just come back to visit me once in a while okay?" he smiles, you can tell that smile is ridden with sadness, ridden with forced acceptance. "i promise." he feels your soft lips against his. it's at this moment that he realises just how weak you've made him. he'd give the whole world to you if you just asked.

he moment he bids you off on your journey he's so tempted to just leave his entire life in xianzhou luofu behind to be with you. wherever it may be, he just wanted to be surrounded by your warmth.

he stands there for a moment, almost as if the ground below him had shackled his ankles to the ground in a sick twisted way of forcing him to see you leave him. he felt so wrong walking away from the entrance of xianzhou luofu (?)

he's dreading having to open up the door to your once shared house, now devoid of all light. all your stuff is gone, albeit a few shirts and little pendants you bought were still lying around. it made it seem like you had passed on, and god he did not want to think of that.

he can't even focus on his job as the general anymore, he thinks he should be able to finish the bare minimum tasks like before he met you but now it feels like he can't even pick up his pen. the pen being one that you had bought him.

he honestly couldn't function well without you, he thinks it's pathetic how he's reduced to what he is now when the only thing that wasn't there was you. you two still kept in touch through your phones but it just wasn't the same. he'd call you every night, sometimes you wouldn't pick up because you were either already asleep or you were busy with something.

he thinks he's never felt more alone in his life.

it's been months, time seemed to pass by slower when you weren't by his side. the snacks he once bought you to try because he knew you'd be home to enjoy them, now never enter through his front door. it was supposed to be a normal day for him, fill out some paperwork, play chess with yanqing during his break, go home a little earlier than yesterday and just rest.

you didn't tell him this during your call last night but the astral express was visiting xianzhou luofu for awhile, the reason was unclear to you but you didn't care. you wanted to surprise your boyfriend! you still remembered his timings for when he goes home and he mentioned that he'll be back home a little earlier since he's been feeling tired lately so it was perfect!

you decide to go back to your shared home to wait for him, not before buying some ingredients to cook him dinner, which he probably hasn't done for himself in a while.

on the other hand, jing yuan gets a little startled when he realises that he lights in his house are on. he thinks hes being robbed but then again who else would be that stupid to rob the general or xianzhou luofu? when he's at the door he can smell the familiar scent of his favourite dish. his mind flashes to you but you didn't tell him you were coming back?

"welcome back! i wasn't sure what to do while i was waiting for you so i made you this." he honestly can't believe the sight that's in front of him right now. he never thought he'd hear your warm welcome so soon even though it's been months.

you walk up towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i missed you." you whisper into his neck. his arms immediately find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i've missed you too my dear." he nuzzles into your hair, taking in the scent that's almost left his, no, your shared home.

"why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" he pulls away slightly to face you, god he's missed you. "i wanted it to be a surprise." you smile, shreds of guilt showing in your eyes for leaving him for so long. "let's eat, i'll tell you all about my adventures." you tug his wrist, the food already being set on the dining table.

moonlight pours through the windows to your bedroom, jing yuan's arms are wrapped tightly around your frame. you're nuzzled into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. your hands are tangled in his silver locks, occasionally giving his head a little massage.

"please don't ever leave me." your hands still at the sound of his voice. you're barely able to hear it, voice betraying his role as a general.

"i won't, i promise." you tighten your arms around him, pulling him impossibly closer to you. you look up at him to place a kiss on his lips. "get some sleep, i'll be here when the sun rises." you whisper as you snuggle back into his chest, relaxing your arms.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

notes and reblogs are heavily appreciated !!

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

Am I the Asshole for reporting my coworker a second time? (TW// Sexual Harassment, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Self Harm)

(🍫💵 so I can find it later.)

I work a job where I (22 F/NB) am a cashier at a local supermarket. I have a few coworkers close to my age, but most are either in their late thirties/early fourties' or are kids who go to the local high schools in the area.

Around the beginning of this year, we'll call him Abe (17~ M) attempted to ask out my coworker who we'll call May (16~ F). They'd hang out semi-regularly along with the other kids still in high school, and while they never caused trouble, they did tend to goof off and joke around a lot.

May refused him, saying she wasn't interested. For WHATEVER reason, he did not accept this rejection and continued to ask. This was an issue, as not only is it sexual harassment, but Abe is a cart-pusher and May is a cashier. He was already a pretty lazy employee (management was always upset at him because he'd get caught playing on his phone instead of working), but now he'd purposefully go through her lane at the supermarket just to ask her out repeatedly and beg to be with her. Every time he found her alone, he'd go right up to her and keep pestering her about it. She felt so uncomfortable and unsafe about it that she told our team lead, who agreed to stay by her side. This was spread to our management, who make sure she isn't alone so that he can't corner her about going out with her.

I have witnessed him doing it many times, enough that I reported it to HR when May refused to do it herself. They told me to get her into contact with them and report it to them, and finally I convinced her to do it.

There was a sort of peace period after that, where they weren't scheduled at the same time. But recently he's taken it a step further and has decided to come in on ANY day she is scheduled (even if he isn't) to keep trying to ask her out. Most of the cashiers are aware of the situation and got upset with him. One of the few who is around my age (and recently pregnant) even cussed his ears off for harassing her so much because it didn't look like management was doing anything. Abe declared that the pregnant coworker broke his heart, and now his behavior had gotten WORSE.

Abe would look at those who he'd "hang out" with at work and either try to guilt them into helping him win over May's heart, complain about her not living him, and talk about how "white people suck"/"white people are so shitty" despite BEING white (to my knowledge, please don't go after me in the notes about this) himself. He'd also stalk her work bestie around and trash-talked the pregnant co-worker, all while NOT DOING HIS JOB, by the way.

One of the habits he has picked up however is miming actions to his fellow minors. The one I heard him use mostly was of him pretending to shoot himself in the head.

But one day I was working as the customer service rep for the night (no one else could do it), and I gave him a polite nod when he walked past. He smiled at me and then mimed cutting himself.

This was not something I had heard of him doing before, but when I talked to my coworkers they said "yeah he was doing this too".

In the moment I had given him a very firm No, because it was not work appropriate. Abe insisted, and pretended to cut his wrists again.

I'm on anon so none of you know me, but I used to severely struggle with suicide and self harm from a young age. However I have gotten better since becoming an adult and have made MASSIVELY impressive strides to a happier life. From this, I understand joking about suicide, because if you joke about it with someone you are not only in a safe place to bring it up BUT are coming around to the idea of telling people that you need help.

Joking about self harm, however? I've never heard of it. It's an entirely different ball park. You don't joke about those things.

In the moment, I was in disbelief, and I felt sick. I even started mentally shutting down, to the point where I couldn't even do my usual tasks properly without being specifically told to start them. Everyone noticed. I even cried once I was in my car while my sister was picking me up and safe, because I was trying so fucking hard not to think about that time in my life when I had moved myself so far past it.

Right at the beginning of shutting down, I did tell a manager. I told the manager who worked the next day as well, just so that I'd be SURE something happened about it. Abe visited that day on his day off because May was working again, and I panicked so much at seeing him that I hid behind customer service until one of my work friends told me he had left- instead of staying at May's side like I usually would. (I put my mental health first- it was a tough lesson that I managed to learn last year to the point that I do it in my day-to-day. She wasn't left alone with him though, don't worry.)

It genuinely sickened me that he has been miming cutting himself to other minors, when I know that if I had been May's age and had seen that amidst recovery, I would have spiraled and started all over again. Abe's lucky none of them are like that (at least openly) and that I was uniquely affected whereas the others were just "creeped out".

I ended up reporting his actions towards me about a week after I convinced May to personally report his harassment, and then I found out that the first manager I talked to (who has a soft spot for him, he does use this to his advantage to get out of trouble at work) asked him what was wrong and his response was "I'm having a bad day".

Considering that he does this every day he comes into work, whether he's actually working or not, on top of everything else (and how it effected me)- I am very hurt and genuinely hate him after all of this when I hadn't hated him before (despite the fact that I have only hated 2 people in my life before that point). However, I don't know if he was joking about how bad he feels about the fact that she does not want him at all or if he's genuinely hurting himself, and I feel sick at the thought of my actions if it's the second scenario.

Even if he's sexually harassing my coworker, no one should ever feel like they deserve to be hurt or that they don't deserve life. That's what I believe. And I'm worried that, should Abe find out I reported him twice over this, that he'll yell at me and say that I'm an asshole for doing that (and I know it would happen, because that was his response with my pregnant coworker). I know I'm doing the right thing by reporting the continuous harassment, but my heart is genuinely conflicted now. He needs to stop, but what if my actions are causing this response? I could never live with myself knowing that I was the reason someone hurt themselves. My anxiety won't let it rest.

And so, Tumblr, I must know...

Am I the Asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #self harm cw #suicide cw

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fortisfilia · 2 months

Text

Promised Part 10 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 9 | Part 11

Part 10 - Mors Grano

The days after Avery’s poor attempt to gather information went by quite eventfully. Not only had Avery and Lestrange almost gotten expelled by Dippet for what they had done, but had received the worst detention you had ever heard of.

Every day, up until the N.E.W.T.s would start, they had to help Mr Carpe, Hogwarts’ caretaker, clean every last bit of the castle. Without magic of course. And when they weren’t scrubbing floors, cleaning windows, or polishing trophies, they were copying the school rules on parchment, by hand. The amount of paper they had to fill wouldn’t even fit into an entire classroom, had it not been rolled up.

Even if they wanted to, their new schedule didn't give them enough time to follow you or even think about you. They barely had enough time to finish their homework before tumbling into their beds. You would have felt sorry for them, but Tom’s snarky grin, which he wore every time you saw the two in the hallways, was a reminder that they deserved it.

Thank Merlin you hadn’t told Avery much when he had disguised himself as Tom. You had just confirmed that the engagement had been arranged but fortunately hadn’t said anything about your sister. There had been worse rumours going around about Tom and you.

Camille almost didn’t believe you when you told her what they had done. After a lot of head shaking and “no, they didn’t”s she just stared at you with her mouth open and proceeded to laugh for a full minute or two when you told her about their punishment.

It was a lucky coincidence that she had found an interest in Ben, as she didn’t mind now that you were spending a lot more time with Tom. She was preoccupied as well by the looks of it.

After the accidental sleepover, you had stayed in Tom’s dorm overnight more often. Not on accident though. It had become a routine, to have another quick chat with Camille after classes, arrange some dates for when you wanted to study together and then make your way to Tom’s.

Tom was sitting at his desk when you entered the room, apparently deep in thought and studying the Potions book he had gifted you.

“Alright?” you said when you closed the door.

He nodded as you went up to him.

“Found anything interesting for the Moly?” you asked. “It still looks quite healthy to me.”

“Not really,” he answered and turned towards you. “Nothing specific.”

“Oh, I just got an owl from my parents.” You crammed the letter out of your bag and handed it to him. “They set the date. For the wedding.”

Tom read the letter quietly, his eyebrows twitching slightly once or twice.

“June 30th,” he said.

“That’s only one day after we graduate,” you stated. “Seems like they can’t wait for the big day.”

He nodded as he gazed into the flames inside the fireplace, a tiny grin pulling on the edge of his mouth before he looked up at you. “Can you?”

To keep the giggle that was building up inside you from bursting out, you took Tom's hand, tugged lightly on it and gestured towards the couch where you wanted to sit. He closed the potions book but kept a finger in it, taking it with him as you led him over.

“Well, I don’t know,” you said as you let yourself fall onto the cushion. “It still doesn’t feel real, does it?”

He nodded in agreement.

“I can’t wait to try on the dress, though. That’ll be exciting,” you went on and noticed him smiling. “And then there’s the most important part, of course.”

He gave you a look as if to say he didn’t know what you meant.

“Elsie,” you explained. “Your uncle will lift her curse completely then. Or so I hope at least.”

Morfin had to, didn’t he? It was part of the pact after all. Tom and you would get married so that they would free your sister. As much as you wanted to believe that the Gaunts were trustworthy, there had been a nasty sting in your stomach ever since the engagement. Would they give up, even when they had won? They wouldn’t be able to control you anymore afterwards, or Tom, or anyone but themselves. Marvolo’s filthy grin appeared in your head. Would he ever give it a rest?

“He will free her, won’t he?” you asked.

Tom looked into your eyes for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Well, it’s what they agreed on.”

“But?”

“But,” he went on, “You’ve seen how they are.”

An invisible weight seemed to pull on your limbs and the sting in your stomach got more intense.

“They’ll never let go,” you sighed. “But how-”

Tom shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I have to show you something.”

He gave you the Potions book and opened it at the page where he had put his finger before. “I thought you’d come across it on your own, but as I noticed you wouldn’t… Just see for yourself.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering what Morfin’s book had to do with anything, before looking down at it. Tom pointed at a recipe, written in scrawled handwriting:

Mors Grano or The Dust Of Slow DeathThe dust is used to be scattered over an item and will cling to the first person that touches it.Vanishes the second the victim comes in contact, which makes it very hard to be detected and cured.Victims will suffer from a distinctively harsh cough, as well as pain and flu-like symptoms, which will worsen each day until they become fatal. The average time until death is around three weeks after the first encounter with Mors Grano. In most cases, the victim will lose their life before the appropriate antidote can be given.

You didn't bother to read the list of ingredients, your hands shaking too much to make out a word. You had heard of Mors Grano before. Professor Binns had mentioned it in History of Magic when you had learned about the Passing of Men in 1650. Hundreds of witches had poisoned their abusive husbands with it when the dust had been invented. It had taken years to find out what had caused such an increased number of deaths, all of them male wizards. The potion and most of its ingredients had been banned, and no cases had been reported since.

Until now. Suddenly it all made sense. The Gaunts had sent the letter and covered it in Mors Grano. They had known all along how to cure Elsie and had waited patiently, days and weeks, letting your sister suffer until Father had contacted them. No wonder the owl had given her the letter, even though it was addressed to Father. They had specifically chosen her. A ten-year-old, innocent, little girl.

Nausea hit you like a brick, coupled with the immediate need to punch something as your stomach twisted and turned in ways you had never felt before. A thin layer of sweat had formed on your forehead and your hands were still shaking.

“They…” you whispered. “And you knew?”

Tom swallowed thickly. “I didn’t at first. But then I came across it when Morfin prepared the poison.”

"And you never told me?" you asked, your voice rising and threatening to break as you tried to get up.

“Let me explain,” Tom said and grabbed your hand. “Sit down.”

“What is there to explain?” you asked, trying to pull away from his grip. “You’ve known for months. Even before your first visit. Before Elsie got sick. And you never tried to prevent it, nor did you tell me.”

Tom's grip on your hand tightened the more you tried to get him off you. “I said let me explain. I let you explain yourself when I saw you with Avery, didn’t I? Imagine I just ran away then. Now sit down.”

Finally, his grip loosened, allowing you to tear your hand away from him. Not knowing what to think or say, you sat down but couldn’t bring yourself to even look in his direction.

“Yes, I knew,” he began with a sigh. “And I didn’t care. But even when I started to care, I couldn’t tell you. Or anyone. I still can’t. I’m unable to talk about it. They were a step ahead. Understand?”

The Gaunts were a step ahead. They always wanted to be. Just like on Christmas Day, when they wanted you and Tom to do-

“An unbreakable vow?” you asked with wide eyes. “You had to vow not to tell anyone.”

He nodded. “I vowed not to tell. But I didn’t vow not to show.”

He turned one page inside the book and handed it to you again.

Mors Grano - antidote

Ingredients:

The skin of a snake

2 fresh Foxgloves

3 blossoms of a Moly

4 drops of Moondew

5 tears of a Banshee

The antidote. Full with an ingredient list and instructions.

“Morfin brewed it already then? They gave it to Elsie, otherwise, she wouldn’t have gotten better.”

“He didn’t complete it,” Tom answered, apparently trying not to say something that would interfere with the vow.

“He left out something? They gave her an unfinished antidote?”

Tom nodded.

“The tears?” you guessed, solely because it was the most powerful and rare item on the list.

“I’m not sure. They never let me into his chamber after the engagement.”

“Can we… Can we steal it from him? And add the last ingredient?”

“Marvolo has the flask on him at all times. He’s suspicious, even of Morfin.”

Bloody hell. Marvolo’s paranoia was a real pain. You scanned the antidote again, thinking of all the ways you could get your hands on that potion.

“But I could brew it myself. Most of the ingredients are easy to find. Foxgloves are for sale in Diagon Alley, I’ve seen them countless times. The Moly, we have it here,” you listed and looked at it standing on the desk, finally realising why Tom had tried to keep it alive so badly. “Snakeskin from Nagini. We just wait for her to shed. Moondew and the Banshee tears will be tricky, however.”

Tom nodded at every new thing you had said. “You figured it out.”

Your stomach had stopped squirming at the glimmer of hope you had for saving Elsie. You carefully read the recipe for the antidote again, understanding how long it would take and how hard it would be to get the potion right. If everything went well, it would be finished by mid to late June at the earliest. Besides, Slughorn had never taught you such advanced techniques. Now that you were thinking of your Professor, it began to dawn on you. “Do you think Slughorn has Moondew and Banshee tears in his chamber?”

“Possibly,” Tom answered. “But do you really want to steal from him after what Avery and Lestrange did? I’m sure he’s got it all locked up in his office now.”

“Well, I have to try. Where else would I get those things from? And I better try soon. The antidote will take months to make as it is and the earlier I start, the better.”

Tom took the book, got up from the couch and put it into the drawer of his desk, closing it shut slowly.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“We’re going to Slughorn then, aren’t we? Come on.”

You followed him out hastily, trying to sort out your thoughts. Frankly, you had not expected to get the ingredients this quickly.

“Wait, how are we going to do it?” you asked, struggling to keep pace. “We can’t just sneak in and grab the things we need. He might be in there.”

“Even better then,” Tom said, not deigning to look at the other students strolling along the hallways. “I talk, you get the stuff.”

Slughorn's office was on the sixth floor, so it took a while to reach it. Your mind was still racing around the facts you had just been given and you needed to talk about it.

“I can’t believe they made you vow,” you muttered. “Marvolo and Morfin are…”

“Bastards,” he finished your sentence when you stepped from one of the moving staircases to another. “I’m aware.”

Everyone who knew them longer than a minute had to be aware of the fact. You were the only people on the staircase, floating higher up towards your destination. Tom looked over his shoulder to double-check if anyone could hear him.

“You know what,” he said pensively. “I actually expected people to ask me what I, or my family, had done to make the engagement happen. Seeing as it was them who got the ball rolling. But everyone suspected you. They all thought your parents bribed us.”

A sour smile had formed on your face as you thought about what to answer. One that, for all you knew, every woman had worn at least once in her life.

“A woman's intentions will always be questioned a hundred times harsher than those of a man, Tom. What else is new?”

He pressed his lips together, nodded and kept quiet until you reached the sixth floor.

“Wait,” you said and got a hold of his hand when you had entered the corridor of Slughorn’s office. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me. The book, the Moly and now this. You know you don’t have to.”

He squeezed your fingers lightly in response, stepped closer and you pulled him in further. With his arms around you and your head pressed against his chest, you shut your eyes for a moment, feeling his lips on your forehead for a fraction of a second. When you looked up at him, his mouth parted, then closed again, stopping himself from saying something. His eyes, dark and restless, searched yours for a moment before returning to their usual deadpan state.

“Believe me, no one hates Marvolo and Morfin more than me. If I can make their lives more difficult, I’ll gladly do it.”

There wasn’t a lot of time to take in Tom’s words when you separated. There it was. The door to Slughorn’s room.

“Get behind me,” Tom instructed. “Make sure he doesn’t see you.”

You did as he said, your back against the stone wall, watching from a distance how Tom knocked on the door and Slughorn opened it.

“Oh, Tom,” the Professor said. “Good afternoon. What brings you here?”

“Good afternoon Professor. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I have some questions about Avery and Lestrange. I’m trying to sort out some things for Professor Dippet. Would you mind letting me in?”

Slughorn opened the door fully and stepped back. “Of course, boy, of course. Come in.”

Tom had left the door open for you to slip in behind them, which you instantly did. He lured Slughorn to the far end of his office, walking backwards and keeping an eye on you. Slughorn’s potion stock was right next to the entrance, where you knelt between the shelves, in case he would turn around unexpectedly.

The small drawers weren’t tagged, but you noticed that their contents were sorted alphabetically. As you silently roamed through them, you could hear Tom and Slughorn speak.

“So, Professor,” Tom said. “Do you know if Avery and Lestrange have taken anything else? Apart from the Polyjuice Potion?”

The Professor hummed. “Not that I’m aware of, no. Why?”

Every single drawer was filled to the brim with ingredients, some vials even contained finished potions, but you still hadn't seen the things you were looking for. It was a delicate act to go through everything so quickly while remaining quiet and ensuring not to miss anything.

“Well, there were some items found. Residues of Moondew and Banshee tears,” Tom explained.

“Banshee tears?” Slughorn asked.

“Yes. We can’t be sure if it was them, but I thought if you missed those things from your supply, the two might have something to do with it.”

“No, everything else is there, I counted it myself,” Slughorn assured. “What baffles me are the Banshee tears.”

Tom was an excellent liar, even though Slughorn would have probably bought anything his favourite student said. The bottom drawer at the penultimate row was stuck. You pulled the handle tightly but it only opened up an inch and gave a screech while it did, making you freeze from fear.

“Did you hear something?” Slughorn asked, his voice echoing your way.

“No, I didn’t,” Tom answered and coughed. “Why are you surprised about the Banshee tears, sir?”

“Well, those tears are rare,” the teacher answered, his head directed towards Tom again. “Very rare and also not very legal, boy. I’ve never seen them anywhere in my whole life. They couldn’t have been from me.”

No Banshee tears from Slughorn then. You pulled out your wand and cast a nonverbal spell to loosen the stuck drawer. Should have done that right away, you thought to yourself. Finally, it opened smoothly and your eyes went over all the flasks and their name tags. Mandrake, Maw, Mistletoe berry, Mollowsweed ... Moondew. Thank Merlin! There were over ten vials of it in the drawer, so you hastily took out one and put it into your pocket.

You peeked over the counter, locked eyes with Tom, and pointed towards the door to let him know you would leave.

“I see,” Tom went on, his eyes back on Slughorn. “We’ll have to look into that. Anyway, if you do notice some Moondew missing, against all expectations, I’m going to have another talk with Dippet about Avery and Lestrange.”

“I’ll let you know, boy. Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening, sir.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 11

Tags: @ariachaos

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hywenhywen · 10 months

Text

0.02 seasons - kim chaewon

warnings / notes - loosely based off of seasons by wave to earth, very sensitive topics / reader discretion advised, non-idol!chaewon, time skips, reader sucks at communicating, reader is very insecure / has low self-esteem

wc - 2.7k

“we can't go out anymore.” you said.

“what?” chaewon asked, stunned by your words.

“i need a break.” you replied, looking down at your feet.

“why?” she asked. “i thought we were doing fine, just yesterd-”

“i don't feel well.” you stated.

“did you get sick? have you taken medicine yet?”

“not like that chaewon.”

“so what,” she sighed. “we're going to go down the drain?”

“i don't find another solution to this.”

“i can help you. we'll get through this together."

“we can't. i cant.” you mumbled. “it's something i've carried with me since i was a child.”

tense silence filled the area. crickets could be heard chirping. your hands balled into tight fists, your knuckles turning white from the pressure. the feeling of guilt grew deeper inside you. maybe this all could've been avoided if you were a better person. this was all your fault in the end.

“don't ball your fists up like that, you'll hurt yourself.” chaewon said, reaching to place her hands over yours. “i know i can't change your mind, so please take care of yourself.”

you turned to look at her, regret already starting to settle in your heart. a tear flowed down your cheek, stoping at your chin. using your sleeve to wipe your cheek dry, you stood up suddenly. chaewon’s eyes followed your actions. she stood up as well.

“thank you for this year.” chaewon said, a sorrowful smile plastered on her face. “take care of yourself.”

chaewon turned the other way and began walking away. tears started to leak from your eyes, your actions having finally been processed by your mind. regret settled rapidly in your conscious and heart. your knees felt weak, your chest tightened, and things appeared to be spinning. your life was falling apart.

you did what you had to do. you always knew you weren't enough for chaewon. she was perfect and you were you. you would never amount to anything. that's what they all said, all the time.

friday, february 24, 12:03 am, 9 days after your break up. that was when you had finally gotten up from your bed. the streets were quiet, the light the street lamps emitted hurt your unaccustomed eyes. your body ached badly. you felt frail, as if a wrong step would make you crumble.

you stepped into your bathroom, opting to leave the light off, and stared at yourself in the mirror. you stood there, shell shocked. who was the person in the mirror? that surely couldn't be you. it had gotten bad, awfully bad.

you opened the faucet and let the water run for a bit. you rested your hands on the sink and let your head hang. you stayed like that for a while, the small amounts of water vapor brought you back to your senses. opening the cold water, you placed your hand under the still mildly hot water. the water stung for a while before it began to cool down.

your hands remained under the running water for a few moments before you splashed some water onto your face. the cool water soothed your burning skin. you continued to rub your face with the water in hopes that it would make you dissolve at some point. you did that for about five minutes, before your body began to ache even worse. you felt like you were bound to crumble from a single movement.

you weakly stumbled out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. your body moving on its own, paying to mind to all the alarms going off inside your mind. your arms reached for every piece of furniture, attempting to hold yourself up as you walked around your home. you only had a few more steps until you could reached the cupboard. then your legs finally gave up.

you fell onto the floor, the lack of nutrients finally taking its toll. with little energy left to spare, you remained on the floor and tried standing up, yet to no avail. you only managed to sit up again the fridge. tears began streaming down your cheeks, falling onto your hands. you remained still for a while, tears continuously pouring from your eyes.

after a while your crying had ceased. you continued to lean again the fridge, sniffles and running ac echoed across the room. you had managed to calm down and gathered all your strength. placing your hand on the counter, you tried to stand up once again. finally being able to stand, you dragged your feet towards the cupboard and reached for a cup.

having the cup in hand, you stumbled towards the water dispenser. you reached out and got some water. bringing the cup up to your lips slowly, you tipped your head back and began to drink the water. the water was cold and sent a shock through your body, it soothed your dry throat. you hastily finished the cup and moved to fill it again. finally feeling some relief you sighed loudly, as if you could breathe again.

you had decided to keep your word to chaewon. you were going to take care of yourself. you were going to get better for her, even if it meant going through hell and back. you wanted to be your best for chaewon. it was certainly going to be tough, but with the amount of love your heart had for her, nothing was impossible.

it had been nine months since that day. they say time heals. not for you, nothing ever went your way. time refused to help you. surprisingly, you had managed to keep yourself in decent shape.

keeping chaewon’s words close to your heart, you pushed your limits and tried your hardest. you did your best to be better, for her. you never managed to fix your mindset though, you only learned to tune it out, to avoid it. everyday was a struggle. all you wanted to do was stay in bed, not moving a single muscle.

even breathing had become a nightmare. mundane tasks became struggles. the first week you were bed bound, you didn't leave your room for a while. your phone laid dormant on your nightstand. it went off every few hours.

friends texted, wondering where you were, if you were ok. your parents called after not hearing from you for a few days. only the furniture in your apartment bore witness to the calamitous events. you had memorized the pattern of your ceiling. the feeling of your sheets, the motion of the wind, the way your chest aches when breathing.

you struggled with yourself all the time. you wanted to fall back into the same habit, just doing enough. you felt miserable every time. the same routine everyday. wake up, wash your face and brush your teeth, eat breakfast, go to work. the afternoon wasn't very different, aside from doing something productive and new every wednesday.

your alarm began to ring, you pulled an all-nighter again. you rolled over to face your alarm, quickly turning it off. you groaned and slowly sat up. you stretched a bit before swinging your legs off the side of the bed. you yawned and stood up from the bed.

you made your way to the bathroom and turned on the water. lukewarm water worked best for mornings like this. you splashed some water onto your face before drying your face off and grabbing your toothbrush. applying the recommended portion on the bristles you began brushing your teeth. you finished after about five minutes and walked to the kitchen opting to drink coffee for today's breakfast.

starting the coffee machine, you had about 15 minutes for the coffee to be done. walking back to your room you grabbed your regular attire and got dressed. you grabbed your bag and placed it near the door, a few seconds later you heard the coffee machine end. moving towards the kitchen your grabbed a thermos and poured the coffee into it. you added sugar to taste and left the lid open so it could cool a bit.

you grabbed your phone and saw you had a message from sakura.

y/n

are we still on for breakfast?

a look of shock adorned your face, sakura rarely asked to go out, typically opting for home cooked meals. your shocked washed away when you realized what day it was. you had made plans with her the night you went to the river.

ofc kkura

i'll see you in a bit

you quickly rushed out the door and haphazardly grabbed your things. you made your way downstairs and towards the bus stop. you tossed things into your bag, tightly holding your steaming coffee to avoid spilling. you reached the bus stop and sat down on one of the benches. you set your coffee down and organized your bag quickly.

the bus arrived a few minutes after you had finished organizing your bag. when the bus doors opened you stood up, grabbed your things and got on. you opted to sit all the way in the back, right next to a window. you brought your thermos up to your lips, the coffee emitted a comfortable amount of heat to contrast the cold november morning. carefully tipping the cup, you took a reasonable sip.

the coffee warmed you up rapidly. you continued to drink very cautiously, not wanting to ruin your clothes this early. turning your head towards the window, you observed the scenery. young and older schoolchildren walked towards the nearby school building. most were dressed in thick and heavy coats, others wore simple jackets.

you continued to look out the window, taking in your surroundings and sipping on your warm coffee. you relaxed momentarily and took a deep breath.

“i could get used to this.”

you picked up your phone and scrolled through your social media, liking photos and videos occasionally. you turned your phone off and continued looking out the window, counting all the trees you saw. the silence on the bus soon got boring so you put on your headphones and played your favorite songs. humming and tapping your foot along to the beat, a smile grew on your face. this was one of the most relaxing mornings so far.

you arrived at your stop soon enough, you collected your things, payed the fare, and walked towards a medium sized café. you opened the door and you saw sakura at a table in the far left corner. you walked towards her, taking your headphones off and putting them away. you walked up to the table and pulled the chair out a bit.

“sorry i'm late.” you said, hanging your bag on the chair. “it completely slipped my mind.”

“it's fine, i just got here a few minutes ago.” she said.

“do you know what you want?” you asked. “it's my treat.”

“oh don't worry about paying, i can pay for it,” sakura said, waving you off. “but yeah, i know what i want.”

“want to go order?” you said, standing up offering her your hand.

she nodded and took your hand. you made small talk while waiting in line. you cracked a few jokes and laughed a bit. after a bit, you finally got to order. you somehow managed to convince sakura to let you pay.

the cashier let you know that it would be out in a bit and that they'd call you when it was done. sakura led you back to the table you had been sitting at. this time you sat down facing the door, rather than facing the wall. you two continued talking for a while before the door of the café opened. you turned your head a little to see who came in.

it was chaewon.

your heart immediately started to race, your vision became blurry, and your breathing was erratic. sakura took notice and turned to look towards the door, once she noticed who it was she turned back to you. she waved her hand in front of your face for a bit. you never noticed her, so she began shaking your shoulders and calling your name. that had managed to catch your attention.

“y/n!” she exclaimed. “are you ok?”

you nodded your head, looking back towards the door. you looked around for a bit before finding chaewon at a booth, presumably waiting for someone. at that moment, the cashier called your name and placed your drinks on the counter. you stood up to grab them. you used that moment as a chance to get a better look.

to your surprise, chaewon seemed fine, almost as if nothing had ever happened. you set the cups down and sat down, clearing your throat in the process.

“sorry about that.” you apologized.

“you don't need to apologize.” sakura started. “i know how it feels, it's not a pleasant feeling.”

you started a conversation, hoping that it would momentarily distract you. it managed to work and you got carried away. the café’s door opened once again. your head snapped to look at who it was. it was a young woman.

from the corner of your eye you saw chaewon stand up and wave the woman over. your eyes followed the woman. once she reached chaewon you saw her place a kiss on her cheek. your jaw dropped and your heart began to ache. you blinked slowly then stood up from your chair.

your hand rested on your chest as you walked out of the café, experiencing many different emotions at once. sakura grabbed your things and quickly followed behind you. once she had reached you, her hand moved towards yours.

“y/n.” she said. “what happened?”

“she,” you said in a breathless voice. “she kissed someone.”

“chaewon did?” she asked, a look of shock adorned her face. “she never mentioned someone.”

you held your head in your hands, attempting to steady your breathing. all the breathing exercises you had learnt were futile, your breathing was inconsistent. at some point you began to wheeze, you felt your throat slowly close. you gasped for air and reached for sakura. she seemed to be panicking, worried for you, yet seemingly not knowing what to do.

you shut your eyes tightly and continued gasping for air. you reached for anything nearby, trying to find something to hold onto. you fumbled with the top button on your shirt, hoping it would help you breathe. sakura in a moment of pure desperation, tapped your back lightly, almost as if she was trying to make you cough. you began to cough, finally being able to breathe.

you took a deep gasp and turned to look at sakura. you smiled weakly at her and continued coughing lightly. sakura attempted to comfort you by rubbing your back.

“you scared me.” she said.

“sorry about that kkura.” you muttered. “i didn't know i'd get like this.”

“you don't need to apologize. it could've happened to anyone after what you saw.” she said.

“how'd she move on that quickly?” you asked, looking straight at sakura.

“no clue.” she replied. “people cope differently, maybe even heal quicker than others.”

you shrugged and sighed.

“i was just thinking that maybe in the future we could've gotten back together.” you chuckled weakly.

“don't give up, the chance might come someday.” sakura said, nudging you with her elbow.

“i'll try not to, i really do love her.” you said. “i think i should head home, don't feel too well.”

“if you need anything don't hesitate to call me.” sakura said. “i'll be here for you.”

“thanks kkura.” you said, pulling her into your arms and hugging her tightly. “we should eat together soon.”

“of course, somewhere farther though.” she laughed.

“i'll look forward to it.” you said, walking off in the direction of your house.

you decided to walk home rather than taking the bus. you opened your bag and got your headphones. the music put your mind at ease and let you relax for a moment. you placed your hand over your heart and faintly felt your heartbeat. your favorite part of the song was coming up.

once the part arrived you muttered the phrase.

“i’ll give you all my life,”

“my seasons.”

you were always going to wait for chaewon, even if it took you many lifetimes.

in the end, she would always be your love.

back to shore | 0.03

#📰 fics #★ — w2e #wave to earth #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim #le sserafim chaewon #kim chaewon #chaewon #chaewon x reader

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snapeaddict · 7 months

Text

Snapetober Day 23 - Remembrance

Inspired by this prompt by @foodncomfort

The knocks got louder and louder, but he could not get to the door, nor did he want to - he vaguely wished for whoever was there to go away and turned his attention back to the bathroom mirror and sink. He was sick one more time, and he grimaced as another tremor ran through his stomach, painfully building its way up to his chest.

He had nothing to show for it. He could barely vomit some yellowish bile.

"Severus."

He bolted upright, turning his gaze towards the threshold and away from the vile contents of his empty stomach. Minerva McGonagall was standing by the door.

Of all people, she was here - he felt an uncontrollable fury rise within him, a sort of painful, rage-fueled despair.

"Get out", he said venomously, narrowing his eyes. "Get out, now."

Minerva looked startled. No - that was an understatement. She looked utterly shocked. But contrary to what he expected, she took a step forward and raised her hand, though with some hesitation.

"Severus, I don't understand. Are you sick? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, I've been looking for you everywhere - I - I apologise for coming in uninvited, I was merely worried -"

"Get out."

She lowered her arm.

"What happened, Severus?"

Shaking his head, the Potions Master caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Another rush of adrenaline, a nauseating feeling of shame submerged him and he felt the urge to seize the nearest object and throw it against the wall - but he was not like his father - still, sometimes he wished to be.

Things would be easier.

"I have told you to get out", he replied quietly, taking his eyes off the mirror and back to her. "Leave."

"I can't possibly leave you in that state, Severus. You look like you can barely stand. Are you having a panic attack?"

He snapped. Walking past her and almost pushing her in the process, he made his way into the living room, fixated on the door.

She had no right to come in. She had no right to watch him in his weakest moment, to humiliate him once more - no right -

"Severus!"

Certainly he looked like a madman.

"Do you really want to know what has gotten into me, Minerva?" he almost spit at her, now struggling to breathe properly. "Your precious Potter - he went into the pensieve, he went snooping, he saw a lovely memory of mine, from my schooldays - his dear father undressing me in front of a crowd... in front of his mother... He..."

He could not say another word. It made it too real, palpable, and he could not allow this to resurface.

Minerva took a step forward, once more. She tried to reach for him, but he recoiled, leaning against the wall for support.

"Severus. What do you mean, undressing you? I never heard anything about this. Surely I should know-"

"Why should you? Of all people, you and Dumbledore - aren't you the ones who did their best to turn a blind eye to anything that involved any Gryffindor? Did you think I would make a complaint? That Black and Potter would turn themselves in? You, Minerva, don't know anything because you never wanted to know."

The deputy headmistress looked petrified. Her face had gone almost as white as his, and her lips were trembling slightly; she stumbled upon her words, she shook her head, but found nothing to reply.

Undressed?

"Severus... I didn't know."

Undressed?

He laughed bitterly.

"We have already established this fact."

"I am sorry. I am so sorry."

Undressed?

"Leave."

For a second, she looked as though she was about to protest. But then she saw the effect each of her glances had on him - it was as if she burnt him with every look, with every word, every attempt at solicitude. There was no reaching through to him. Whatever it was that separated them, she could build no bridge - none.

And so she left, without a word, without a glance. Unknowingly, though, she did bring Severus some comfort: on her face was such a profound expression of shame that even he could not miss it.

#severus snape #pro snape #minerva mcgonagall #harry potter #severus snape fanfiction #snapetober #snapetober 2023 #snape #SWM #hp ootp

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hischierswhore · 1 year

Text

you're the problem

pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

TW: asshole!Mason // cursing // verbal arguments // if i missed anything, please let me know

A/N: listened to "blame's on me" by Alexander Stewart on repeat while writing this. apologies in advance !!

"I'm fucking stressed, Y/n, and you're not making it any better!" Mason shouted as you sat on one of the kitchen stools, holding your head in your hands in attempt to ease your growing migraine.

"I can't fucking do this anymore" You mumbled to yourself as your made your way up the stairs and to your bedroom, locking the door once you were inside. You heard Mason shout "Just run away from your problems like you always do".

You brought your knees to your chest as you sobbed on your bedroom floor. How could he be so insensitive and so self-centered when all you did was show him the love & support he craved so desperately?

This had been going on for the past month. You arriving home from work and immediately being put in a screaming match with your boyfriend of 2 years, though it was more of him screaming at you and you just becoming his personal punching bag.

You tried your hardest to stay. You tried to stay for him, to help him change and better himself, but it seems as though every night he goes back to his old ways. You understood he was frustrated with himself because of his performance lately, but that shouldn't be any reason for him to take it out on you.

"Why do I even bother?" You asked yourself as you cried again, tears rolling down your cheeks as you hugged your legs tightly to your chest as some form of protection. You stayed like this for a few moments before opting to grab your suitcase and leave.

You knew if you stayed you'd only cry harder. You opened the door to hear Mason speaking to someone downstairs. You assumed it was Ben or Declan, but you didn't care. Nothing he said or did could change your mind to make you stay. You'd given up, you were done.

You carried your suitcase down the stairs, immediately causing Mason to turn his attention to you.

"I'll call you back" Mason spoke into the phone before ending the call and placing it on the counter. You tried to rush down the stairs and make your way to the front door without having to interact with him, but it seems as though an extremely heavy suitcase filled to the brim with everything you'd ever left at his house wasn't the easiest thing to carry down a flight of stairs.

"Where are you going?" Mason questioned when you finally reached the first floor.

"As far away from you as possible" You spoke dryly, not wanting to interact with him at this moment.

"My love, I'm sorry for-" Mason spoke but was interrupted by you.

"Save it, Mason. You do this shit all the time. You get frustrated because you're not performing well on the pitch and then you verbally take your frustration and anger out on me, and I'm fucking sick of it. I've tried to help you, Mason. I really have, but I've gotten to the point where I'm tired of being your personal punching bag. I'm just done" Tears stained your face once more as you voiced your frustrations to him.

"I didn't know you felt that way"

"Because you're too busy worrying about everything else in your life but me! Not once have you asked me if I'm okay since this whole thing started, Mason. I've lost all hope in this" You said as you gestured between the two of you.

"Look at me, Mason" He looked straight at you as you spoke.

"This isn't the man I fell in love with. This isn't you" Mason's eyes began to fill with tears as reality was setting in; he was losing you.

"For the longest time, I've been blaming myself for things that aren't my fault, and I'm only now realizing that it's you. You're the problem, Mason. It's your fault" You grabbed your suitcase and dragged it towards the front door, leaving Mason frozen in shock at what was happening. With your hand on the door handle, you turned around one last time.

"I hope you resolve whatever the hell is going on with you. Goodbye, Mason" Mason was still in shock at the foot of the stairs. Your words echoed through his mind as you left his house.

You packed your suitcase in the back of your car and drove back to your apartment. Your mind wandered throughout the car ride, trying to come up with different scenarios that could possibly cause Mason to change. He may say or do something that will pull you back to him, but as the drive came to an end, you realized there was nothing he could do to bring you back into his life.

A voice deep within you wished there was, but as much as you wanted to believe in him, you couldn't. You had to let go and move on.

As soon as you arrived home, you jumped in the shower, ignoring your reflection staring back at you with nothing but longing in its eyes. No amount of water washing over your body would make those emotions disappear.

You laid across your bed with a blanket wrapped around you, wishing things would just go back to the way they used to be. You missed the loving & affectionate Mason, the one you'd fallen in love with. But those days were gone. Those days were long gone.

Mason had broken your heart. It didn't matter how many people you loved, you could never love another person like you loved him. That realization sent you spiraling into the darkest place you'd ever been in. Your brain couldn't think straight. The sudden loss of everything you thought you'd had all along destroyed you.

You began crying uncontrollably, clutching onto your pillow as if it were all that was keeping you alive. The moment you closed your eyes, your memories flooded your mind and that was enough to drive you into a state of despair. You let yourself drown in the memories.

You cried until you couldn't breathe. You cried until your throat hurt so bad it made you nauseous.

Everything had led you here. Everything you loved and cherished. Every happy memory you'd built up with Mason that seemed so easy and effortless until it had all disappeared. All your dreams seemed futile and unreachable after the events that took place earlier today.

Mason couldn't even fathom the pain you were in. The pain you were in because of him and his actions. He never realized what he was putting you through. He attempted to reach out, but it was no use; you'd blocked him on every platform there was. You wanted him out of your life, completely out of your life.

How could he possibly understand the type of grief he'd caused you? How could he comprehend the depths of sadness you were feeling right now?

He'd broken you and now he wanted nothing more than to fix everything he had done. To hold you close and tell you he was sorry. But he couldn't apologize for the mistakes he'd made; he hadn't been there for you during all of it. He hadn't held you while you sobbed or comforted you after one of your many arguments.

He'd lost you for good.

#✎ natalie writes #mason mount #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic

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