#i take bits and pieces from everything i've ever seen to make myself
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masterlist of all the stories i've made/written.
project meraki — covenant inspired mmcs
elemental/demonic-esque power rangers — basically i rewrite power rangers and MAKE IT MAKE SENSE ( cuz if ur teens tryin to superhero BE teens more n not YAs with the label of teen so we don't have to explain jobs n lives y'all don't have regardless )
idol power rangers — similar ranger concept as above just with regular ranger dynamics and with idols as the faceclaims. makin it interesting.
unnamed propaganda based project
aberstwyth — main, steampunk country + bij'ann — opposition, arabian country ^
project fae — magic school & sapphic girls
finis justificat modo — when summoning a god fails miserably and we must all suffer the consequences.
amor vincit omnia — when six college students all witness the same incident and their lives become intertwined forever.
hospital playlist — the big 3 of this new hospital navigate life and their traumas together as college friends, surgeons, & a hospital family.
project plethora — no idea, just a web of mythology & magic & portals.
modern breakfast club retelling & revamp
unnamed old project ("reviving an old story") — typical wattpad esque premise. rich gamer kid ends up tutoring a popular boy from his school (who's in love alr).
crestview falls — one tree hill inspired story
perv project — my.. outlet fic that i use to lwky be a creep safely away from others
project ghost — the small town alternative teen journalist & the dead boy who's murder and town mystery she tries to solve.
27 ivy lane — in which the world’s youngest FBI agents and intelligence officers put their looks to use by going under cover.
friends knock off ("river house") — a sort of college version of a friends knock off?? though i've never seen friends. i'm not a 20-30 something white person so it never spoke to me. so here's my queer person of color version.
Blood On Your Teeth — teen wolf oc based story. cecil argent.
kaos house — influencer house. once again, queer, black, and unapologetically ethnic. oh and they actually all like each other FR..
to the grave — in which you meet spencer reid's daughter, maisie.
aurora carmichael and the cobras — cobra kai story?? never really developed it much past the mc and her family really.
unnamed supernatural fic/oc — maxine moseley, resident baddie psychic.
sam, colby, & koa — came up with an influencer/ghost hunter oc
difference — true beauty inspired oc and story
the summoning — a hunger games / alice in borderland / purge inspired story about a magic island that appears every so years for a battle to the death with supernatural implications & an unreliable narrator.
behind the lights — in which a teen celeb ends up discovering the existence of three bionic kids in his neighbors basement. yes. it is a lab rats fic.
redwood academy — 12yr old me's idea of a cooler pacific coast academy from zoey 101 where life is cool, tea is hot, and i live the life of mi dreams.
unnamed hemlock grove fic — cherise brightly you absolute baddie. her and her family are vrăjitoare (witches).
Scream Baby Scream— the child of tatum and stu, secretly raised by our fav serial killer duo cause tatum said FFFFUCK that baby I'm a teen. And basically her as she copes with her urges to kill and meets her match in a boy equally as crazy as her.
sentient — a lab rats ( i fuckin guess ) fic based on another bionic girl who's more machine and android than a basic human with enhancements and her journey on morality and falling in love.
20s era based slasher set up like a silent film
all my fuckin ocs too
santa clarita diet oc + the imperfects oc + umbrella academy oc + etc...
genocide z — also an outlet fic i wrote as YOUNG kid based on a school that teaches its students to kill and be mass murderers/serial killers. opens at graduation and their first mission is to kill all their families......
devil town — in which a teen father ( no longer a teen in the story ), meets a boy he used to know and falls deeper into the world of hawkins, indiana. ( yes it is stanger things. i know..)
ALL the fuckin fake schools i've made for the stories.
Ridgewood Academy of Music + Lomonosov Academy + Redwood Academy + Angelwood College + my wizarding schools etc...
#all mi ideas#i take bits and pieces from everything i've ever seen to make myself#what makes you think i won't with my art#writerblr#marvels runaways#writerscommunity#dark academia#the secret history#stories#scream franchise#zoey 101#lab rats#power rangers#power ranger oc#danny phantom#santa clarita diet#the imperfects#one tree hill#karasuno#haikyuu#stranger things#teen wolf#original character#creative#kpop idols#21 jump street#inspired by all these#writers on tumblr#writing#chaotic academia
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Dont Belong Part 3
Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
Part 1 Part 2
Word Count: 7175
Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader
Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!
Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom
Y/n POV:
These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.
I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.
But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.
"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.
The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.
"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.
"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.
"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."
Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.
I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.
"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.
"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.
As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.
"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."
I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."
Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"
"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"
I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."
"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.
Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."
As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.
But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.
"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."
"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"
With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.
Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."
"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."
"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."
"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."
"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.
But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.
"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."
I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.
Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.
"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.
"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.
Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."
"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."
Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.
"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.
She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"
"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.
"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."
"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."
As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.
__________
The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.
Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.
Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.
"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.
I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.
"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.
I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.
The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.
Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.
Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.
There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."
As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."
I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.
"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.
Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.
I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.
Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.
I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.
Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."
"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.
Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.
"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."
Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.
"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.
Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.
"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.
There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.
Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks
"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!
Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.
"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.
Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.
"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.
There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.
Nat's POV:
My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.
I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.
Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.
Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.
I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!
"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.
"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.
But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.
I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."
"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.
There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.
Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."
Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.
"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.
I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.
_________
As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.
Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.
"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.
"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.
"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.
"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.
"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.
"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.
Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."
"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.
Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.
"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.
"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.
"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.
As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.
But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.
"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"
As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.
"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.
Part 4
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#marvel fanfiction#marvel#natasha romanoff#avengers fanfiction#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff x daughter#avengers#romanoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wandanat#wandanat x reader
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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.”
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
“what do you have me saved as?”
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex.
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.”
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.
you wish you never did.
you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
part 2 :)
#kami writes#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru comfort#gojo x reader angst#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x y/n
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡
Stalker!billie x innocent!reader || ch.1 ||





warnings - stalking(don't do this plz)

(Billie's pov )
Beautiful.
that's all i could think as i watched her from a distance. she had no idea that i knew every little thing about her, that i studied her every move, her every smile, her every tear. she was so oblivious to the world around her, so lost in her own little bubble, that she never noticed how i was everywhere. to be completely transparent, i don't know what compels me to do this, following her around, taking pictures, obsessing over her, i don't know why i do it, i just do it. it's like some sort of magnetic pull, something inside of me that screams for more of her, something that keeps me coming back for more.
it had been our first week of university, orientation week, where we hung out, met new people, got situated, and whatever else normal people did. i decided to take a... different approach, not by choice, but by necessity. i had noticed her from the moment she stepped into the auditorium for the welcome assembly. she had the kind of aura that drew everyone in, made them question who she was, made them insecure, made them ask her out without knowing her properly. i just sat back and took notes on every little gimmick or bit or habit she had.
her name was y/n. i had followed her from class to class, lurked in the shadows as she went to the library, sat outside her dorm at night as she studied with the light on, and watched her as she slept. i know, it's creepy, but i couldn't help it, i needed her to be safe, needed to make sure she was okay. she was just so... innocent like bambi or something. i had to protect her from all the shit that was out there in the world.
every night i'd go home and write down everything she did, everything she said, every person she talked to, and i'd analyze it all, trying to piece together the puzzle of y/n. i have a whole notebook in my room dedicated to her, filled with pictures and notes and writing. she's 5'0, doesn't drink much out of personal choice, she loves to paint and sing, she likes painting her nails different colors, she loves coffee and shopping and music and has 3 siblings, 2 brothers and a sister. whenever she's nervous she touches her neck or when she's excited she swings on her feet. i know most things about her and she still knows nothing about me.
-
first day of classes, i decided to take a seat next to her in our english lit class. she had no idea who i was, of course, but she gave me a polite smile as she sat down. i took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. this was it, the closest i had ever been to her. the scent of her perfume filled my nose and i couldn't help but lean in slightly to get a better whiff. she smelled like vanilla and coconut, a heavenly combination that i had never smelled before.
"hi," she said softly, her eyes scanning my face for recognition. "i think i've seen you around. i'm y/n."
"oh," i said, playing it cool, trying not to let my excitement show. "i'm billie. it's nice to meet you."
y/n nodded, her eyes flicking back down to the book in her lap. i studied her from the corner of my eye, noting the way she played with the hem of her shirt as she listened to the professor drone on about the syllabus. she was so focused, so intense, that it was hard not to be captivated by her.
the class eventually ended and she began to pack up her things.
"need help with anything?" i offered, hoping she'd say yes.
"no, i'm good," she replied with a smile. "but thanks for asking."
as we walked out of the classroom together, she turned to me.
"do you know where the art building is?" she asked.
i nodded, "yeah, i can show you."
y/n's eyes lit up with relief and she fell into step beside me. we talked about our majors and hometowns, and i found myself getting lost in the sound of her voice, the way she talked with her hands, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about painting. it was like nothing else in the world mattered except for her.
when we got to the art building, she thanked me and went inside. i watched her go, feeling a strange mix of happiness and sadness. happiness because i had just had a real conversation with her, and sadness because i knew i had to let her go, for now.
but i couldn't stay away for long.
that night, i found myself outside her dorm again, watching her through the window. she was singing to herself, her voice a soft melody that floated out into the night air. i leaned closer, trying to make out the words, feeling a warmth spread through me as i did so. it was a strange feeling, one i had never felt before.
the next day, i was sitting outside her dorm when she walked out. she looked surprised to see me.
"hi again," i said, smiling.
"hi billie," she said, looking around nervously. "what are you doing here?"
"reading," i lied, trying to seem casual. "what about you?"
"oh, i'm just going to grab some lunch," she said, looking down at her watch, "i've got class in like 10 minutes so i've gotta rush" she added, looking a bit flustered. "see you around."
"see ya," i said, watching her go.
but i couldn't stay away. i followed her to the cafeteria, watching her from a safe distance as she ate with her friends. she laughed at something one of them said, and i felt a pang in my chest. i wanted to be the one making her laugh like that, the one she confided in, the one she leaned on.
as the days turned into weeks, our interactions became more frequent. we'd run into each other in the halls, at the library, and even at the coffee shop on campus. each time, she'd greet me with a smile, and each time i'd fall a little bit more in love with her.
but i knew i had to keep my distance. if she ever found out what i was doing, she'd be terrified of me. so, i contented myself with watching her from afar, taking in every little detail, every little gesture, and storing it away in the back of my mind.
—————
AU Masterlist
#billie eilish#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish smut#hit me hard and soft#hmhas billie eilish#billie eilish fluff
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I know I said I was nervous about word vomiting on here but I really NEED to talk about Eclipse. Specifically what's happening and leading up to his breakdown.
I wanna talk about everything leading up to it. Moving dimensions, the dead kids, Ruin showing up, the stuff with Lefty and Captain, The mimic, Puppet, Charlie. There's so much that's been going on in his life during the past...5-7 months? And I just have to talk about it.
The reason I bring up moving dimensions as contributing to the breakdown and stress is, change is hard. Moving is hard. Even if you want to move or go somewhere else it can still be overwhelming. Not only that but he had to meet all these new people that, at first, he hated and wanted nothing to do with them. Not only that but because of Sun and Moon he was basically forced to deal with his own trauma and get over it to help these two goobers who couldn't even communicate normally. He also had people constantly coming into the theater, which was supposed to be somewhat his space, and asking him for help and needing him to do things. Which had to have been stressful. Then the lab was supposed to be his space but everyone else found that too and went in without his knowledge.
Then the murders started happening. Everyone was stressed out all of the time, but he especially. I don't think that the situation was worse or easier for anyone involved but his upset was the most noticeable because it felt a bit out of character. We weren't really used to seeing him so vulnerable yet? Even with him helping Puppet and Earth it was still kinda weird. But the more it happened the more in character it felt. It was easy to tell he was not well. He's never really been well but he was doing a bit worse. I don't think anyone ever really addressed to each other how all the kids were affecting them. Eclipse, Sunlight, and Puppet are all THE WORST at doing this. I don't put Moonlight in this list because I actually think he's pretty good at talking about what upsets him and getting his emotions out, from what I've seen. But they should've talked about it. Especially Eclipse. He definitely felt useless during that time because he couldn't save some of those kids. And it's essentially happening again. His kids are in danger because of THE SAME MURDERER + another murderer and he feels useless.
There's so so soooo much grief and anger piling up that it's crushing him. The Mimic showing him what "could've been" if only he had tried to talk things out or hadn't been so "stupid". Losing Puppet, FC and Foxy leaving him behind to pick up the pieces of what happened. Trying to take care of Charlie and trying to get two of his kids back. He hasn't even finished Andrew, Jake, or Andy's bodies.
Now onto the breakdown itself. It started before that call, you could hear it in his voice. Then William gave him two weeks and Roxanne walked in at actually the perfect time. If she hadn't showed up he might not have gotten to let his emotions out the way he needed to. Then he started projecting on her HEAVILY and you cannot convince me otherwise.
"Is it in your nature to screw me over?" -This one might be pushing it but he's always been in his own way. Eclipse has always had an issue with getting out of his own way. Keeping himself from making good healthy relationships with people, putting up walls, overworking himself until he gets like this.
"You're such a failure." -Saying that to Roxy didn't make any sense. What would've made her a failure??? This one sounds A LOT like him telling that to himself just out loud.
"Got some more brain-dead ideas in there?" -This goes with the previous one. Eclipse has made a lot of plans in the past three years and they almost always fail or just get ignored. Specifically with Puppet and giving her a different alternative instead of dying or telling William that he can get him a different body and William saying he wants that body.
"Suddenly you care?" -This one is a big one for me. Eclipse said he doesn't understand why he cares so much. Like this man has spent the last 2-3 years "not caring" about anyone and doing whatever he wants. Killing and torturing whoever he wants or anyone who has wronged him in some way. Then he started getting close to people. The first being Earth. I think she was literally the first person (that he didn't make) to genuinely be nice to him and try to help him. Then there was Puppet followed by FC, Ballora and everyone from that dimension, excluding Lefty and Captain, our Monty and his kids. Even if it's been about a year since he helped Earth and started caring it still seems to be a foreign concept to him.
Then there's when he starts talking about how he's supposed to know what to do "be the best" and stuff. "I'm supposed to be good at this." "I'm supposed to be good at this stupid thing." "I'm supposed to find them." "I'm not supposed to struggle." "I'm supposed to be the guy who finds stuff, who gets it done, who kills, who gets stuff situated." this reminds me of Nexus. He felt like he was supposed to be what Old Moon was and more even if no one told him he had to he that way. I don't think anyone has told Eclipse he's supposed to be the best or anything except himself. Maybe that stems from when he was Moon. Just something that came with everything else. There's a lot of "I'm supposed to" going around.
And when he started talking about his Kids is when it seems like it starts to sink in for him. The way his voice sounds and the hesitation paired with forcing his voice to say what he needs to say. Then he goes back to "I'm supposed to be good at everything." He's so frustrated and so stressed out. Frustration is literally I think one of the worst feelings for me because it feels so infuriating and it can happen so often. Even just the build up of small things inconveniencing me can make me break as badly as he did. Being frustrated sucks. Especially when it's something as big as his kids.
Another thing I want to point out is that he says "If I can't find them, who can?"
He doesn't realize there are people who CAN help him and are probably willing to help. Like Monty or Ruin. Both are smart enough and could help. And if not anyone from the dimension he's in, maybe someone from the main dimension. Genuinely I think I would go insane if he actually asked for help from someone in the main dimension. The first option is definitely Monty since those two get along. Solar is a BIG maybe but I bet he would understand especially with everything that just happened with Jack. Might not be willing to help all the way but could give hims some outside ideas. Personally I think it would be huge if he asked Moon. It probably will literally never happen but Moon is EXTREMELY intelligent and idk that's just something that would show a lot of growth for the both of them. Again it's like literally the least likely to happen.
But he's putting so much pressure on himself when there IS OTHER PEOPLE WHO ARE AS SMART AS HE IS. MAYBE SMARTER??? That can help.
Not only that but he is terrified that Andy and Jake are going through what he went through when he was stuck in his head during the Mimic situation.
"They're stuck in their heads. Their body just being used like a tool."
Eclipse was a tool. He was stuck in his head and was a tool for someone else who would've just killed him eventually or toyed with him until he snapped. Thinking that someone else might be going through that sucks and even worse thinking your own kids are going through that? Without knowing how to help?
Now the part I wanted to talk about THE MOST.
"I'm not a dad. I can't ever be a dad. I can barely take care of myself."
Oh boy. This. This hit hard.
Taking care of yourself is hard. Keeping yourself healthy and alive and well is difficult. The world feels like it's against everyone. Pair that with suddenly having to take care of other people? Small people who are more vulnerable to getting hurt or lost than you are? That's terrifying. That's really really scary. It's even worse when you believe that you can't do it or don't deserve it. Now times that by four. This mf really is a single dad who just got four kids dropped at his doorstep with absolutely no instructions or any idea on how to take care of them. Not only that but he's extremely bad at taking care of himself. Thank god he's an animatronic cause I think if he was human he would be dead.
I think he wants to be their dad. He wants to hang out with them and teach them and help them be healthy people.
He can also kinda connect to them in a way that's like...his life was basically taken from him. He never got the chance to be someone on his own. He was just a killcode that went rogue. All his kids also had their lives taken from them. All of them were robbed of a childhood. Both Andrew and Andy were murdered in probably horrific ways. Jake died from cancer at a young age and Charlie was taken from her life and put in an environment that literally poisoned her and eventually killed her.
But he does want to be their dad. He just doesn't think he can be. Parenting is one of the hardest things anyone can do. You are responsible for this person until they are an adult and can take care of themselves. You are responsible for making sure they can take care of themselves. You're responsible for making sure to teach them how to be a good person and what empathy is. Teach them what kindness is and help them become someone who helps others. Help them become someone that can be special to someone else. How you treat them can affect how they treat EVERYONE they will ever meet or ever have any kind of relationship with whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, etc.
He already feels bad about how he's taking care of Charlie. He doesn't have time to help her but at the same time parenting is about making time for all of your kids. Even then it's still hard. Eclipse has so many examples of himself failing to do things and its taking its toll. If you feel like you failed at everything else what's going to make this time different?
Everything, all of it, is sinking in. To him the whole world is on his shoulders. He has to fix everything and he doesn't understand that he can't. That there are other people who can help. And he's scared. There's a deadline. That deadline isn't like failing a class or getting fired. That deadline determines whether or not someone gets to live or dies in a horrific or gruesome way.
The fact that it took him THIS LONG to have a full on breakdown is insane. It takes so much strength to make it that far while holding it in. He's changed so much and has grown so much and oh my god the amount of stuff going on is crazy.
ANYWHIZZLEE...that's my rant. Wow that is a lot. I genuinely love this character with my soul. I love the way he developed, I love how complex he is, it's just amazing to me. I love most of the characters Davis plays and I love the whole story as a whole. Does any of this even make sense??? 😭😭😭
#fnaf#fnaf security breach#fnaf sb#axtonorian#tsams eclipse#tsams ruin#tsams solar#tsams jack#tsams moon#tsams monty#tsams earth#tsams#tsams rambles#eaps andrew#eaps monty#eaps eclipse#eaps puppet#eaps ruin#eaps charlie#eaps lefty#eaps foxy#eaps fc#eaps#eaps roxanne#tsbs#tsbs ruin#the invisible davis#rant#thats a lot of words#wow I didn't think I would write that many holy fuck
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Once Upon A Time Pt. 1
Pairing: Big Bad Wolf!Eddie Munson x Little Pig!Reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N, I haven't seen OUAT in a bit, so this isn't going to really follow the plot, Fairytale Wolf Eddie calls reader 'Little Pig' in a non-mean nickname type way (Since she's one of the three little pigs)
Summary: Once Upon A Time style AU. Before they were sent to Storybrooke, Y/N was one of the three little pigs, a group of three sisters who broke away from their town to build a life on their own. Everything was fine until Eddie the Wolf came knocking at their doors. In a strange twist of fate, Eddie and Y/N fell in love. A curse is placed over their kingdom, sending them into another world. One where they don't know they're in love. The curse begins to crack when Eddie and Y/N start to get to know each other. Will they ever learn the truth?
*Not Proof Read*
No specific mention of body type or race.
*****
"You're staring." Nancy gently taps on my arm, pulling me away from the man seated in the far corner of the diner.
The man, a local music store owner named Eddie Munson, sits with his face towards us. His black curly hair is tied up in a messy bun that allows a few stray pieces and his bangs to frame his face. His brows are furrowed in concentration as his eyes are fixed on the newspaper in his hands. His lips quietly whisper the words he's reading along to. He's dressed in a Guns 'N' Roses band tee and black ripped jeans, an outfit he wears versions of daily.
He's a daily regular.
"I wasn't." I deny as I begin scrubbing harder on the diner counter. No matter how many times I clean it, there's always a lingering sticky feel.
Nancy sighs. "Look, you can't keep doing this to yourself. You need to move on if you're not going to make a move. You're torturing yourself. What about...what about Argyle? He's free." She leans back against the counter, folding her arms over her chest as she watches me.
I shake my head. "Argyle's in a very committed relationship with his bong." I joke. "Nance, I know nothing's going to come of it. I just...I can't help it. It's like I'm drawn to him. Something about him feels familiar. It's like we're connected or something."
"Someone's reached a new level of delusional." Robin teases while coming to stand next to us.
I know they're right. It's a stupid crush that I need to get over. I don't understand why it's so difficult for me to move on from this man. I've only ever talked to him to take his order. Occassionally we'll joke, but it's never been much more than that. It's not like we've had a romantic, movie-worthy moment.
My friends break away from our conversation to continue finishing their tasks. I let out a small sigh and drop my rag into a bucket full of sanitizer. I glance over at the diner booth where Eddie is sitting once again. For a brief moment, he makes eye contact with me and sends a small polite smile in my direction.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach. I return the gesture before tearing my gaze away and forcing myself to calm down. I need to get over this.
-----
I bite my lip nervously while staring up at the sign above the building. 'Eddie's Music Shop' stares down at me, making the nerves in my stomach tumble even more.
Why did this place have to be the only store in town selling the latest The Runaways cassette? I guess I don't have to buy the cassette for Robin. I could always get her some new craft supplies.
But she's been talking about this band for months. She'd love their new cassette.
I need to do this for Robin. It's just a crush, Y/N. Get over it.
I take a breath and force myself into the building. Inside is exactly how I expected. The building's decorations fit the energy of Eddie perfectly, with posters from bands I've seen him wear t-shirts of handing on the walls under dim lights. Instruments of all kinds are hung on the walls or on the floor. Near the front of the store is a section dedicated to practice books. I follow a sign that says 'albums and cassettes'. Rows and rows of albums and cassettes make my eyes widen.
How am I going to find the right one?
"Good morning!" A voice says from the back of the store. The owner of the voice pushes past a cloth that hangs over the 'employee only' section, revealing Eddie. Eddie smiles at me, his eyes crinkling slightly. Today, his hair hangs loose around his head. He's wearing a Metallica shirt, which is slightly tucked into his usual ripped black jeans. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Uh-" I reply with a blink. I've never spoken to him outside of the diner, something that's very surprising seeing as we live in a tiny town. "The Runaways?" I struggle to form a sentence.
Eddie's eyes glimmer in amusement. " We definitely have The Runaways. We have everything you could ever want here. Let me show you where you can find their stuff." Eddie begins to lead me down the long rows of music.
I take in the different genres available as we pass through the rows. He truly does have everything. From Madonna to Iron Maiden to David Bowie to Hall and Oats.
We stop in front of a section labeled Riot Grrrl & Punk Classics. Eddie crouches down without hesitation, flipping through the tapes with practiced fingers. He hums as he searches-loud enough that I can make out the tune. It’s 'Cherry Bomb.'
Of course.
"Here we go," he says, pulling out the cassette like he’s drawing a sword from a stone. "The Runaways-legendary, chaotic, a little unhinged. Just the way I like my music."
He stands and offers it to me with a crooked grin. His hair falls over one shoulder, and I get caught staring at the way his rings glint against the cassette case.
"It’s not for me," I say too quickly, grabbing it before I think better of it. "It’s for a friend. Robin."
"Robin Buckley?" he asks, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Tall, talks fast, always smells like paint thinner and conspiracy theories?"
I laugh. "Yeah, that’s her."
"She’s cool," he says, nodding. "Tell her to swing by sometime. I’ve got some Blondie bootlegs she’d probably sell her soul for." He pauses. "Or, you know… you could come back and pick ’em up for her. If you want."
His voice is so casual I almost miss the way his eyes flick up to mine. Hopeful. Like he doesn’t say things like that often. Like maybe it scared him to.
Before I can respond, he’s already walking back toward the counter. "Take your time looking around," he calls over his shoulder. "Everything here’s good for the soul. Some of it’s even alphabetized."
I stand there a second longer than I should, cassette in hand, heart rattling like a snare drum in my chest.
That night, I lie awake with the tape sitting on my bedside table, spine facing me. The Runaways. I should feel normal about this. It’s just a music store. He’s just a guy.
Except… he isn’t.
I’ve never talked to him like that before. Never outside the diner. Never with more than a few seconds of eye contact or a mumbled thanks when I refilled his coffee. But there’s something about him that clicks. Like hearing a familiar melody you didn’t know you knew. Like déjà vu, but stronger.
It feels like I know him from a different life. One where we talk about more than just coffee and cassettes.
---
The diner is mostly dark now, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the soft clink of silverware as I tidy up the counter. Nancy and Robin left over an hour ago, and the cook’s back in the kitchen blasting some old jazz record I’ve never heard. It’s just me out here.
Well-me and Eddie.
He’s perched in his usual booth, boots up on the seat across from him, head buried in a battered paperback. The book’s spine is so cracked it looks like it’s been read a hundred times. Probably has. He always brings it with him. Never the same page, though.
"So, did Robin like the cassette?" He asks out of the blue, pulling me from my tasks.
I blink, surprised he remembered. With a coffee pot in hand, I walk over to his table. He probably needs a refill by now. "Yeah. She freaked out. Said she’d name her first-born child after you."
Eddie smirks. "She better not. Poor kid."
There’s a beat of silence before I shift on my feet. I bite my lip and glance at him. "What about you?"
"Hm?" He hums, glancing up from his mug.
"What kind of music do you actually like? I’ve only ever seen you in band tees. You’re kind of a mystery."
He leans back, dramatic as ever. "Ah, peeling back the layers of the enigmatic Eddie Munson, are we?"
I roll my eyes. "Just curious."
He taps his rings on the edge of his mug, thoughtful. "I mean, yeah, I love the heavy stuff-Black Sabbath, Metallica, you name it. But I don't despise everything else. I mean, I do own a music store. Jazz, rock, and some pop. I'll listen to it if it's playing on the radio."
I smile, surprised but not surprised. "Quite the music man."
"That I am." He agrees.
"Need a refill?" I ask while eyeing his halfway full cup.
He looks up and grins, pushing the mug toward me. "Absolutely. This stuff tastes like battery acid, and I’m kind of into it now. Stockholm syndrome, maybe."
I laugh softly and pour. "That’s the true diner experience."
We both fall quiet in a comfortable silence. I go to fill his cup when our hands touch.
The contact is brief. Barely there.
But the world fractures.
-----Flashback-----
I slam the door shut and slide the bolt into place just as a low, sinister chuckle echoes through the trees.
"Oh, come on, little pig," a voice purrs from outside. "That house of sticks didn’t last long. What makes you think bricks are any better?"
I was terrified this would happen. Days ago, he blew down the home of my middle sister. It's the second home of ours, he's destroyed it. Thankfully, Robin was able to make it to my home before the wolf got to her. The first house he destroyed was my youngest sister's. Nancy was luckily nowhere near the house when the wolf decided to attack.
"What do we do, Y/N?" Robin asks, anxiously pacing the house. "He-he's going to come in here and kill us."
Nancy tries to comfort her. "It'll be okay, Rob. We'll be okay." Nancy tries to keep the panic out of her voice. "Right, Y/N? We'll be okay."
It tears me apart to see my younger sisters so scared. I need to protect them.
"That's right, Nance. We're going to be okay." My heart pounds. I press my back to the door, turning my attention back to the threat outside. "You won’t get in."
"Hm. Sounds like a challenge. I've always loved a challenge."
Heavy footsteps crunch across the forest floor. The scent of pine and smoke fills the air. Something snarls low in the trees, but I know it’s not a random beast.
It’s him.
The Wolf.
He appears in the clearing with a confidence that makes the hairs on my arms rise. Dark curls fall loose around his face, and he’s all leather and shadow and hunger. His piercing, glowing eyes stare straight into mine through the peephole, like he knows I'm watching him. They're captivating and truly take my breath away, some of the most beautiful yet dangerous things I've ever seen. But it’s his smile that terrifies me most-sharp, wicked, amused.
"I could blow this place down in one breath," he murmurs, stepping onto my porch. "But I’m feeling generous tonight."
My throat goes dry. "You want to eat us. That’s why you’re here."
He shrugs, licking his pearly white teeth. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just bored. Why don't you come out here and find out, little pig? I promise I don't bite. Well, that might be a tiny little white lie."
I swallow hard. "If you’re really that hungry…: My eyes trail to the stove in the kitchen. Inside, a warm loaf of bread is baking. It sparks an idea. "I could make you something."
He pauses. The grin falters-just barely, at the offer. "Food?" He echoes.
"Yes. A meal. It's chilly out there, especially at this time. I'm sure you could use something home cooked to warm you up." I try to keep my tone level.
He stares at me through the peephole, somehow studying me like I’m a puzzle he hasn’t solved yet. Then, slowly, he nods. "Alright. One dinner. And I won’t eat you."
My shoulders sag in relief.
"But just tonight," he adds with a wink. "Tomorrow's a new day. And I don't like to make promises I can't keep."
The visits become nightly.
He never says why he keeps coming back-but he does. My best guess would be the food. Every evening, I meet him at the edge of the trees, a basket of food in hand. I serve him stew, or bread, or roasted roots. He lounges on the stone wall outside our brick house, eating with his fingers, licking the last of the salt from them with slow satisfaction.
True to his word, he doesn't attempt to attack me, my family, or my home.
"You realize this doesn’t change anything," he says on the fifth night. "Tomorrow I could eat all three of you."
"And I’ll be here tomorrow with supper," I shoot back. "I'm making a pie."
We fall into a rhythm. A strange, delicate balance of threat and… something else. The sharpness in his smile dulls. The once intimidating glimmer of danger in his eyes fades into a smug look. His posture softens. He laughs- really laughs- when I scold him for nearly crushing my freshly planted flowerbeds.
One night, as I hand him a plate, our fingers brush.
His gaze lingers on mine. "You’re not afraid of me anymore, are you, little pig?"
"I probably should be. But..." I glance at the wolf. "I'm not."
Although we've been eating together every night for months, we've never shared our names. To me, he's been Wolf. To him, I've been Little Pig.
Tonight, curiosity gets the best of me.
"What's your name, Wolf? Your real name." I ask while taking a bite of my food.
I can feel the wolf's gaze on me as he thinks about whether he should answer truthfully or not. Finally, he responds.
"Eddie. My name is Eddie. Yours, Little Pig?" He eyes me curiously.
"My name is Y/N.
Eddie doesn't respond. He simply observes me, his eyes scanning over my face for a few minutes, like he's curious. " Y/N, I won't eat you. Not tonight."
I smirk, a small confidence bubbling in my chest. It's something that's grown over the past few months of meeting with the wolf every night. "You always say that, Eddie." His name rolls off my tongue.
But that night, he says nothing more.
And for the first time, I find myself watching him walk back into the forest… wishing he didn’t have to leave.
-----Present-----
I drop the coffee pot.
Glass shatters against the tile. The loud crash jolts me out of the vision-but not fast enough.
The lights above flicker violently, buzzing and sparking. The floor hums beneath my shoes like something ancient just woke up.
Eddie’s already standing, his sketchbook forgotten, eyes locked onto mine.
"You saw that too?" he says, low.
I nod, breath catching in my throat. "You were a wolf."
"You cooked for me," he murmurs, like he’s remembering it piece by piece. "And I-I spared you?" He's confused. We both are.
The diner goes still.
Neither of us moves.
Neither of us speaks.
My heart races in my chest, and I can still feel the heat of the fire, the weight of the basket in my arms, the way he watched me like I was the one thing in the forest worth sparing.
I look down at the spilled coffee.
"I’ll-I’ll clean this up." I stammer while backing away, needing to create some distance between the two of us to process what just happened.
I flee to the back, pretending my hands aren’t shaking.
Behind me, Eddie mutters under his breath, almost too quiet to hear.
"I’ll be back tomorrow."
And this time… there’s no threat in it.
Just confusion and a promise.
-----
The bell over the diner's door jingles, and I already know who it is before I look up. He's on time, like always.
Eddie Munson strolls in, his rings clinking softly as he adjusts the strap of his guitar case over his shoulder. He’s wearing another band tee-Judas Priest this time-and a dark denim jacket with a tear near the shoulder.
He told me yesterday he’d be back.
And here he is.
I don’t know whether to feel flattered or nervous. My hands are already sweating. Last night left me so emotionally confused.
He spots me behind the counter, offers a small, tight-lipped smile, and slides into the same booth as before.
Everything in me wants to ask if he remembers what happened last night.
But we don’t bring it up.
I grab a notepad and head over. "You want the usual?" I ask, pen ready, voice a little too casual.
Eddie taps his fingers against the table. "Hm. Let’s mix it up today. Surprise me."
I nod once and write something down, grateful for the excuse to look away from his eyes. Those beautiful eyes, the same ones that looked so dangerous in whatever hallucination I saw yesterday. "Bold of you to trust me."
"I’m feeling brave." His smile tilts. "Could be worse. I could’ve asked for the house special."
"You just did."
He chuckles at that, and something in me eases. Just a little.
As I turn to leave, a man at the counter stands abruptly and knocks into my shoulder with enough force to throw me off balance.
"Watch it," he grunts, not even looking back.
I stumble sideways-and right into Eddie’s booth. His hands are out in a flash, grabbing my arms to steady me.
Once again, flesh meets flesh.
And the diner fades.
-----Flashback-----
The setting sun peaks out from above the treetops, casting a warm glow on the earth. The air is colder tonight, kissed with the scent of pine and the lingering smoke of someone’s faraway fire. I shiver as I spread the blanket out in the small clearing, smoothing the edges over the soft grass and dirt. It'll be winter soon. I don't know how we're going to continue our dinners in the cold.
I set down the small bundle of food I’ve prepared -roasted vegetables, baked apples, and a little tin of dried meat I bartered for. I don't do it often, but I know that a predator like Eddie needs meat to survive. Even though most of my meals lack meat, Eddie never complains. Not about the food, anyway.
Something rustles behind me.
I freeze, my heart doing a stutter-step of recognition and fear. "You’re early," I call over my shoulder with a small smile, though it falters when I hear nothing in response.
No gravelly tease. No dramatic entrance. No wolfish grin.
The hairs on my arms rise. I have a feeling this isn't the wolf.
I stand slowly and turn, my suspicions confirmed immediately.
It’s someone else.
A man, draped in dark armor. Leather and bone. His face is shadowed by a hood, but I catch the glint of a curved blade at his hip.
"You live nearby?" His voice is low, oily.
I don’t answer.
"Pretty spot. Pretty girl," he murmurs, stepping closer. "Love the setup. It's like you were waiting for me."
I take a step back. "I don’t want any trouble."
"Oh, I do."
I barely hear the growl before he appears.
A blur of black curls and fury crashes into the clearing from the woods, knocking the stranger to the ground with a snarl so sharp it scrapes against the bones of my ears.
Eddie.
But not the version I've grown to know over the past few months. A version much more dangerous than the one I met on our first night, when he threatened to kill me.
This is the completely animalistic version of Eddie.
Fangs bared. Hands curled into claws. Eyes burning with something primal and dark.
He roars as he pins the man down, slashing at the leather armor with a snarl. The intruder struggles beneath him, slamming an elbow into Eddie’s ribs-and I see it. The flash of silver as the intruder draws his blade.
"Eddie!"
He turns just in time to catch the blade across his side.
The scream that tears from my throat doesn’t sound like mine.
Blood splashes the grass.
Eddie doesn’t stop. He rips the weapon from the man’s hands and hurls it across the clearing. "Run, and don't come back. I will know if you're here. I will know if you're in town. I will chase you down. I will rip your throat out. Leave them in peace." he growls, and the man does as he's told, disappearing into the dark like smoke on the wind.
Eddie stumbles, breath heaving. He turns toward me, and the snarl drops from his face, his furious expression replaced with pain.
"What the hell were you thinking?" I rush to him, hands already shaking. "You’re bleeding-"
"It’s fine." He lets out a staggered breath, groaning as he inspects his injured side.
"It’s not fine!"
"You tried to warn me. Why?" He asks.
I blink, trying to understand why I didn't just leave Eddie to handle everything on his own. "I know you. I know you aren't going to hurt me. I didn't know him."
He’s still looking at me, eyes wild and confused. Like, he doesn’t understand why he came. Why he attacked. Why he protected me.
"You were hurt," I whisper, more gently now. "Come on. I’ll clean it up."
His brows furrow. "I didn’t come here to help you," he says, like he’s trying to remind himself. "I came to threaten your house again."
"Yeah, well." I reach for his arm and guide him toward the house in question. "You kind of blew your whole ‘big, bad’ image just now. No pun intended."
He lets me help him sit on a chair at the dining table, groaning slightly. Blood stains the hem of his shirt. "Guess I’ll have to huff and puff extra hard tomorrow. Can't let others think I'm going soft now, can I?"
I pause as I soak a cloth with water. "Will you actually come back tomorrow?"
He doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, he looks at me-not like prey, not like a joke. Like I’m something he doesn’t know what to do with. Something dangerous in a way that scares him.
"I don’t know what’s happening to me," he admits, voice raw.
I press the cloth to his side, gently. "Me either."
The house is quiet since both of my sisters are visiting friends tonight. It's just the two of us.
I finish tending the wound in silence, careful not to look at him too long. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll start to understand something I’m not ready to say out loud. It's confusing, the way my feelings have changed for this man over the span of months.
Somewhere along the way, my fear faded as Eddie started to become my friend. His obviously empty threats didn't scare me anymore. Somewhere along the way, I realized that what Eddie truly wanted wasn't food. It wasn't even my house. He didn't want to kill. He wanted a friend, and the only way he knew how to get the interaction he was so desperately wanting was through bugging others.
And now, I think that fear has turned into a crush.
That terrifies me.
When I finish, Eddie stands up, ready to leave. "Thank you, Y/N." He mutters quietly. "I’ll be back tomorrow."
Not to huff. Not to puff. Not to blow the house down.
Just... back. To be with me.
-----Present-----
The vision ends.
The lights flicker again -less violently this time, but enough to make Eddie drop his hands from my arms like they burned him.
We stare at each other.
I can feel the phantom weight of his bloodied shirt and the heat of the hearth.
"Second time," he mutters, his voice low and unsettled. "That’s… that’s not normal, right?"
"Definitely not," I say, still trying to steady my breath. The air feels thicker now. "I don’t know what’s going on, but… I’ve got this weird feeling. Like this isn’t just some freak coincidence."
Eddie shifts uncomfortably, raking a hand through his hair. "How are we both seeing the exact same things? Same people. Same place. And it feels so real. Like… like we’ve actually lived it."
"I know," I whisper. "It doesn’t feel like a dream. Or a hallucination. It feels like-" I stop myself, unsure how to finish the sentence.
"Like a memory," he says for me. He meets my eyes, and the look in them makes my chest feel too tight. "But that’s insane. That can’t be possible."
"Then what is it?"
He doesn’t answer.
I glance around the diner, still mostly empty except for the cook and a few other regulars scattered around the room. The overhead lights stop flickering, and the hum of the building returns to normal, but nothing feels normal.
"I want answers," I say quietly. "Whatever this is… I’m not just gonna ignore it."
Eddie nods, jaw tight. "Me either. I want to figure out what the hell is happening to us."
There’s a pause. The weight of it all settles between us.
"When do you get off work?" he asks.
"In an hour. Why?"
"I’ll wait outside," he says simply. "We can talk. Figure this out or find someone who can help us figure it out." He pauses for a moment. "I think I know someone who can help us."
I nod, heartbeat still thrumming in my ears. "Okay." I agree.
A knowing feeling settles in my gut. An instinct.
Somehow, Eddie and I are connected, and I have a feeling it runs deeper than sharing dinners together.
#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#x you#x female reader#xreader#x eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things x reader#x chubby reader#x plus size reader#eddie munson x plus size reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#x yn#x y/n#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x plus size reader#stranger things x you#au#fairytale au#x you angst#angst
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Its Mr. and Mr. Games!
To celebrate the end of the TIT era, and the upcoming rebranding, I wanted to draw something. I knew from the first time I heard the song back in November that I had to make piece to honor this beautiful reintroduction to two of the most influential people in my life.
This design will eventually be up for sale, either as prints/stickers or keychains. Once I get it all figured out.
I'm gonna get sappy now, but I'll put that under the cut.
Dan and Phil came into my life at probably the perfect time. I'd seen little bits of their content before officially becoming a Phan, and I'd always liked them. But there was something about stumbling across them the summer before middle school, that really stuck with me. I'd never been particularly popular, and I moved quite a bit for a few years, and here I was in a whole new environment with no real friends besides my brothers. I was slowly starting to fall victim to the typical puberty age insecurities and my poor mental health was starting to take a toll on me. And here were these two British guys, like a ray of light in the dark. They didn't fix everything, far from it, but they started to become a safe space regardless. I love them both of course, but I've always been a Dan girlie. It was like staring at, myself in a mirror but despite our similarities he was actually popular, at least online. And at the time we didn't know as much as we know now, but I felt a deep connection with him, I felt like he got it. Like it wasn't just a "I have mental health issues, I'm just like you", it was genuinely someone who was dealing with similar things to what I was. And Phil was always a wonderful ray of sunshine, and it helped that he so clearly got Dan. He understood and he didn't shun him for his struggles or ever make fun of him beyond light, friendly teasing. And I've craved a bond and connection like them since (which I do finally have).
But it wasn't just about Dan and Phil. It was about the community they created, the safe haven for kids and teens that came from all over. A community they were so welcoming of and cared about so much (even when that community was less than deserving of it). And this community is how I made friends. Some of my first ever real friends in middle school were made in part because of Dan and Phil. As well as some of my friends now. Some of my first real connections came to me because of these silly guys online. And they didn't all last, but some did. I saw them live in November with one of those friends I made all those years ago because of them.
Dan and Phil truly raised me. They created a space where I had two incredible role models, I was watching content that was safe and made by safe people, and they kept me creative. But they also saved my life. And they continue to be one of the things that keeps me going. They came into my life at a time when everything was falling apart and I was ready to give up, and pulled me back to my feet and told me it was worth it to keep going. And anytime I'm in a bad spot, they're one of the things that helps draw me back out.
They've grown and changed so much in the last 15 years, and I definitely have to, but a constant that will never change is my appreciation for these two and all they've done and continue to do. Thank you, Dan and Phil. For being you, in all the ways, and for showing me I can be too.
#dan and phil tit#dan and phil#dan and phil games#danandphil#daniel howell#phil lester#d&p#d&p games#d&p tit#phan#phandom#phanart#phan merch#dip and pip#dan howell#phannie#my artwork#my art#digital art#digital drawing#digital illustration#izzy draws
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Stellar the Hedgehog Analysis
Just got home from watching the third Sonic movie, and since it focuses so much on Sonic and Shadow's relationship, I thought it'd be the best time to do something I've wanted to do for a while - drop an incredibly long post about my thoughts on @emthimofnight's Sonadow fankid, Stellar the Hedgehog.
And before I say anything more, here's a link to her ref sheet: https://www.tumblr.com/emthimofnight/747427162447118336/name-stellar-the-hedgehog-age-varies-based-on?source=share
A lot of the time, Sonic OCs have been passed off as "cringe", due to the unfortunately well-known ones, but the actual community is full of some of the most dedicated lore-makers and designers I've ever seen, and I'm not even someone who knows Sonic that well! I've done a fair bit of research on the series, but I've never played the main games for myself. I just stumbled onto Stellar while I was mindlessly scrolling, and as I checked out all the posts regarding her, I realised I'd found one of the most intricate, passionate fan creations I'd ever seen, and she's been living rent-free in my head ever since.
Now, for the meat of this post: My analytical thoughts on her. Let's break it down into categories:
Design and Personality:
I'm no expert on character design, I've barely even tried to do it myself (outside of my over-designed Miitopia OCs), but Stellar is absolutely striking. Her fur colour is a clever blend of Sonic's blue and Shadow's black, a dark blue resembling space, with a splash of red thrown in to add to the Shadow of it all. She has stripes as well, but as opposed to Shadow's slashing shapes, hers are more bendy, twisting into the form of a star. Inhibitor rings are strapped to her sneakers, a very poetic combination of her dads' getups, but she's also got her knee and elbow guards, a little touch of her own that links in with her fighting style, and also represents the constant protection around her which I'll get to later.
She's extremely star-coded, from the name to the space colour to the fur markings, and I think that was the perfect direction to go. Stars feel ethereal, but entirely grounded at the same time, a cosmic entity we can look towards at any point. Stellar is much the same, she contains an absolutely incredible power, taking after two previous incredible powers, but her personality is so warm and cheerful, and her very existence is what brings Sonic and Shadow together.
And that's the other point I want to make in this category. Stellar actually has three older siblings who died before they were born (I'll get to that), and they're essentially a sliding scale of Shadow's genes to Sonic's genes. Void is almost entirely Shadow, Andromeda has a bit more Sonic, Polarity is more Sonic than Shadow, and Stellar herself is the only true balance. That's a good word to describe what she represents, balance. Sonic's kindness combined with Shadow's anger, Sonic's showboating combined with Shadow's self-confidence, with her own bubbliness and grace added on top. Everything about her design, just like her role in the "SonDADow AU", simply clicks together.
Background Lore:
As someone unfamiliar with the history of the Sonic fandom, I'm not sure how common the "Sonadow fankid made in a lab" trope is. I know Stellar was not the first, and it'd be unreasonable to assume she was - but I'm willing to bet that Emthim has the very best exploration of the concept.
The failed siblings, for a start. That's a dark turn to take off the bat, the idea that Project: STELLAR has been attempted so many times, and still hasn't been shut down because these people are so desperate to put more insane power out into the world, but it really does set the tone for what's going on here. Stellar, just like Shadow, isn't being viewed as a genuine lifeform despite her title, she and all her siblings were a piece in the puzzle for a bunch of self-absorbed scientists trying to recreate a project that was inhumane from the start. Shadow is frequently pictured as struggling to cope with the knowledge of this project, and of the failed siblings, as it'd very obviously strike a lot of nerves. Sonic reminds him to move forward, though. Just like he always has.
That's another incredible aspect of all of this - Sonic and Shadow being forced to parent together despite being not-very-close-friends before this point. The little interactions displaying their bickering about how much influence each of them have had on their daughter, and constantly fumbling on taking care of her because all three of them have overpowering abilities that completely change how they go about their lives, give so much life to the relationship depicted between them all. Stellar is never outright told about her origin, because Sonic and Shadow want to keep her out of that life, and that level of protection being shown both warms the heart, and fills it with a sense of dread for when she'll find out, because it's (realistically) not a perfect strategy. This all adds so much to the idea that they were haphazardly thrown together by the circumstances of Stellar's very existence, and the duo of hedgehogs are just trying to make do.
Stellar as a sort of "dark star", in her ultimate form or Villain AU, is a concept that really ties it all together. She originated from an evil cause, something that only exists to cause unparalleled destruction, and yet her good will and sense of justice shines through no matter what. You can tie aspects of the same theme to both of her parents, but it's wholly concentrated in her story.
Powers and Abilities:
She's a figure-skater. That's pretty much the whole reason this category exists, I really want to break that down for a second.
The duality of ice skating is one-to-one with the duality of Stellar, in my eyes. It's a graceful, beautiful, typically feminine activity, but it's incredibly easy to cause damage with those blades, and strike the sickest poses on your foes. Stellar has a clearly-defined soft side to her, she's very sweet to the people she cares about, and has that all-encompassing energy only a child of Sonic could possess, but just as much as that, she will rip and tear through someone at a moment's notice if they piss her off, she's got that impulsiveness to her, and we all know she's got the power to back it up. She can be either of these things at any moment, the artistic blade always has an edge to it, and the contrast is no contradiction - She simply is all of her.
On top of that, I want to talk more about the dark/collapsing star form. The idea that she possesses such capacity for destruction, which could take her over from the inside out, that would leave her loved ones desperately reaching out to find that shining star - it has not left my mind since I first saw it. It's one of the most compelling narrative devices anywhere in this AU, there's so much potential in a character like Stellar, making an impact wherever she moves, becoming shrouded in the colossal darkness that still plagues her life no matter what she does. As for the specific piece that drew me into this form so much? I'll link it in the final category.
Camellar:
https://www.tumblr.com/emthimofnight/742720101897437184/some-sketches-illustrating-the-relationship?source=share
The first image in the set is the one I was just referencing, but I'd be retreading ground by talking about it, so I'll focus more on their relationship in general.
I love how it's so "mutual pining childhood friends"-coded, while also straying a decent bit away from the common tropes. Only Camellia has the feelings bouncing around her head like a DVD logo every moment of her life, because Stellar doesn't actually comprehend it at all, despite feeling much the same. True to her nature, she's so focused on building positive relationships with people that she doesn't recognise some of the intricacies of what the relationship is truly like, or what she truly feels herself. She's at her softest around Camellia, due to their long-lasting affection, but she's also at her fiercest when she gets protective. Camellia brings out every aspect of her personality in a way no-one else does... and certainly not a dishonest rival.
Rocket is my absolute favourite addition to the Camellar dynamic because he throws such a gigantic wrench in everything. His relationship with Stellar has none of the safety that Camellia's does, he's all about the thrill of it, feeding into the inexplicable attraction without thought of whether it'll hurt in the end or not. Initially, this is all one-sided on Stellar's side, eventually becoming one-sided on Rocket's, and either way, it brings about a vindictiveness in Camellia she usually isn't prone to, because just as much as Stellar is looking out for her, she's looking out for Stellar - in a variety of ways. She wants what's best for her, but she's also throughly convinced that it won't be anyone other than herself, and she's also right, especially since Rocket's such a prick at the end of the day.
The truth is, the reason Sonic and Shadow work is that they can keep up with each other. Both of their life stories are about becoming as free of a spirit as they can be, tossing aside everything thrown in their path to become confident in themselves and what they stand for. Stellar and Camellia are much the same. From an aesthetics and basic dynamic standpoint, there's more comparisons to draw between them and Sonamy, but in that case, it's entire game's worth of miscommunication and problem avoidance. In the case of Camellar, they're significantly more head-on with everything, they're both incredibly blunt about their affection, it's just that the romance aspect is lost in translation on Stellar's side. Not like that's the part that really matters, it's the mere unbreakable bond. The one that gets a princess desperately reaching out through a collapsing star for its heart. The one that gets a shining star to settle down for a moment.
Closing Thoughts:
This post definitely didn't cover everything. So much about Stellar is whirring around my brain at any given moment, I have no idea how I'd manage to jot it all down in a comprehensible and complete format, but this is what I've got. A post that hopefully shows just how deep my appreciation for Emthim's work goes, and how talented of a creator I believe her to be. Thank you for reading.
#stellar the hedgehog#sonadow#sonadow fankid#camellar#as you can see I have no idea how to tag this#writing an essay that will never be graded#that's always a fun one
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This one is kind of personal and a lot mushy
(And as I'm writing this, a bit of a rant as well)
*Be advised.😅
Been a bit.
Well, I was kind of busy. On one of those 'once in a lifetime' trips you take to celebrate a big one, this one being my 30th wedding anniversary.
And while I was on this trip (and I am sure to share some pics, cause why not, seeing we got some spectacular ones) I got to thinking about Jikook. Because, who doesn't think about Jikook on their 30th anniversary trip, right?
Let's be real for a sec. Who doesn't think about Jikook ALL THE DAMN TIME?
Obsessed much?
Hell yeah!!!😂
Proudly admitting it!!
Look at those two:
Can you seriously blame me?
Nah, but seriously.
I couldn't help but think about who I am, where I've come from, how my partner and myself came to be, our love and respect for each other, how we fought through everything life swings at you and how our love not only survived all of it but seems to have flourished even more. I can honestly say that I love my husband today even more than I did when we got married. It's a different kind of love. A mature love. A love that survived many trials and tribulations. Some you know of when you tie the knot but many more you don't expect.
And thinking of us I couldn't help but think about those two young men and how they met, what brought them together, how they connected, how they have been through so much together, the hardships, the struggles, the amazingly good and the terribly bad, all making their bond even stronger.
There are those that cannot fathom how 2 young beautiful talented men could be in a committed relationship when they have this whole smorgasbord of beautiful people just wanting to lay a hand on them. Everyone wants a piece of them and here they are in a committed relationship with each other? A long term committed relationship? How ever could that be?
When you love someone to the core, which is exactly how those two feel (people can deny it all they want, but it won't change the facts, these two have chosen each other every single time over anything and anyone else), when you get to know that one person and fall deeply in love with them, know their ins and outs, know their flaws and issues, seen them at their best and at their worst. When they are happy or sad, healthy or sick, elated or furious, and find them attractive through and through, still want to be by their side.
No.
Need to be by their side.
Want to be there when they are happy, share their joy, but also be there when they are sad or down and stand by their side to support them through it (even with and despite all those flaws and issues and difficulties that at times can also infuriate you and basically make you want to ring their necks at certain points in time) there is no love (between partners) deeper than that.
I do know, we all should, that what they experienced and how they are living cannot be compared to us regular folk. Their circumstances are such that they have to deal not only with an industry and society that deems them as 'wrong' (that includes a big chunk of their own fandom btw), but also a lifestyle that is nothing like the one we know or have experienced. The hours, the cameras in their faces close to 24/7 (up until their break and hiatus and even prior to that during the pandemic - which btw is one of the reasons people have gone mad at that point given we stopped getting an influx of BTS content for such a long time), growing up and maturing in the limelight, enjoying the fame and exposure at first and then fighting for privacy and 'anonymity' when you realize there is a price to that fame. None of us have experienced that. Yes, we can find the similarities and by extension make conclusions about them, but at the same time we always need to remember that their lives are different than ours and that we cannot always hold them to the same standards of behavior that we are used to in our own lives and relationships.
This is beside the point that every relationship is different. I will just say this. A healthy long term relationship is built on 2 or more (I ain't judging) individuals that stand as their own person and chose to be with the other/s. They don't necessary have to have the exact same interests or likes. What they do need is to love, respect, trust each other and understand that part of that is allowing your significant other to do what they love, even if it means doing it without you. Even if it means doing it with someone else. You all know where I'm getting with this right? Going out with others, travelling with others, drinking with others, spending time with others, choosing to spend time alone without your significant other, none of them diminish from your relationship if indeed it's building blocks are solid. And brace yourselves (well, those that are in long term relationships know this already...), but all of the above actually helps maintain your relationship. Can make it better and stronger.
I've been lurking a little on SM, even while away, only to find that once again, or should I say still (surprise surprise... NOT) there are those that are doubting the bond that these two young men have. It's solos and cultists trying to create an alternative universe in which JK and JM are not close and even distanced (some would love for them to actually hate each other - good luck with that psychos). Or it's once again those insecure 'Jikookers' that seem to need that constant affirmation from a real life queer couple that most certainly will not be giving them that. I keep asking myself why is it that a couple like JM and JK need to constantly prove they are together (all while they actually can't come out and say it due to their circumstances - industry and society they live in), when a heterosexual couple, say Zendaya and Tom, for example, are not expected to? How come a blurry clip (which I still say is fake) released at a very suspicious point in time, together with other obviously edited clips and serious claims of misconduct that are clearly made up and were intended to cause JK harm, have more of an impact on them than years and years of interactions, talk, actions (including just before the clip was released and after it as well)? And now another blurry clip that people are going all crazy over. Like seriously, what is wrong with people? Is the lack of content driven them mad? No drama so we need to create it? Well, thing is that when you are in a healthy committed long term relationship there is not much drama. That's the way it is when you are settled and happy and know who you are and who you love and know that they feel the same about you. Arguments, disagreements, bad days - sure. That's life. But at the end of the day if people want drama they should go watch one on TV.
So, how do I put it to make is as clear as possible?
These insecurities we get from some of the fans, they work like clockwork. Every single time, in the past, when we didn't get much from the two there were these whispers and question marks regarding their relationship. Not even if they are still together, but down to the core of their bond, as to even question if they are close or friends. This phenomenon goes way back.
But since end of 2021 beginning of 2022, when they were on their break and later the hiatus into 2023 it blew up like a full on hydrogen bomb.
This got worse after they were assigned their own 'personal' IG accounts and went on their break.
The misconception by many that these accounts were somehow their private accounts that they use to interact with each other, I can't call it anything other than delusional. Sorry not sorry. And if people did not realize that themselves if only from the lack of posting or interaction with whoever, then we had the members themselves telling us that they regularly interact within their own private chat groups. That photos shared on IG with us have been previously shared with the others in those groups. These IG accounts were created to maintain contact between the members and their fans, knowing that the group is going into hiatus and that they will each be promoting their own individual solo projects. Yes, the group Twitter (X) account could be used for that, but there was an attempt to create a more 'personal' connection between each member and Army. These accounts were work, as simple as that, and them reacting to other members or talking with each other through these accounts was not an indication what so ever to whether they were in touch or not otherwise.
At the time, back in early 2022, when people were reeling over the lack of interaction between the two on their IG accounts I tried to explain that a. not seeing something most definitely does not mean it's not there (something those two made sure to prove time and time again over the past couple of years), and b. that the lack of interaction can actually be an indication to them spending most of their time together, as there is no need to comment on another's post when you are right there to tell them whatever it is you want to tell them to their face. Not to mention, and this part is all me, so take or leave it as you will, but some of said IG posts, well, how do I put it? I guess I just say it as it is... some of these photos posted were either taken by the other or they were right there or really near by when it was taken. There. I said it. In any case, the fact that these were the only two not to interact with each other in front of Army's face, out of the whole group, that, to me, meant they were the ones spending most of the time together.
Oh, and let's just address the whole fanservice stupidity surrounding those two once and for all.
If they were all about fanservice, how is it that since that during the break in 2021-2022 and then during the hiatus and their solo endeavors, we were robbed of said fanservice? Wouldn't you expect that the fanservice couple, the scripted couple, be pushed during each other's promotions? How is it that we have seen during these periods of promotions every single other coupling other than JM and JK. Even JK visiting JM during his rehearsals was heavily edited. How come, if we are being sold a fake bond? No JK being forced to go visit JM when performing at the music shows. No JM being forced to do the same with JK. JM paired with Suga for an add for Busan (? that one was really an odd one for me). When did we see them? So yeah, people can scream fanservice all they want, but deep down inside they know it's a crap claim. I won't even go into JK's lives. There was not one ingenuine bone in his body, and that excitement seeing JM's comments, that coquettish behavior while interacting with him (especially during the bed live, OMG!!!), the reactions to the JM centered content he CHOSE to watch during those lives, none of that is scripted nor acted. It's all JK. All him. And JM's reaction when JK shows up at his documentary viewing live, that little butt wiggle in his chair (reminds me of Bam when happy to see his dad/s, as shown by JK), the face lighting up, the genuine worry on his face talking about JK working hard (during another couple of lives), again, not faked.
So yeah, not fanservice.
I digressed, I think.
Let's get back to 2022 why don't we?
On their break these crazy stories of heartbreak and breakup and hate and suffering and god knows what, only all to be thrown out of the window as soon as we got to see the two together again during the Seoul concerts and then LV. Oh LV. That was a wild ride.
Then BTS went on hiatus and the solo era began. And we were getting less and less ot7 content, and once again the insecurities. These ups and downs (you know, the whole JITB party stories about them not being together - that was countered by the BTB that followed a while after), then Busan concert's high, then 2023's downs and ups and downs and ups and fruck it all, I'm sea sick from this stupidity.
Same exact stories were repeated in 2023!!!
Especially after THE CLIP "which shall not be named" dropped.
SAME EXACT TO THE T STORIES!!!
But again, I digress.
Insecurity regarding the two and their bond (seeing they aren't in the public eye) followed by realization that everything is as it was (if not even better and stronger) once we see them together again. And the reason we don't see them together while on break... wait for it... is because they are a private couple living their everyday life, not for the cameras, not for Army, but for THEMSELVES.
Who would have thought.
And when they are together, as in working together, either filming or shooting or performing, well their bond can't be hidden, as much as they might have to wind it down at times (which is mainly not when they are on stage hyped up on adrenaline, lol), seeing that this is still Kpop, with fandoms that feel ownership over them, not to mention them being a queer couple. You know. All the usual reasons.
This idea people have that these two owe us something. That they constantly have to prove their bond, their connection, their relationship. What utter bull.
Anyway, what a slap in the face (for some a good wake up call, for others a well deserved one) the news of them choosing to enlist together was for so many.
Bottom line is, repeated for the millionth time, that these two young men have shown us time and time again that when push comes to shove they will chose one another!!!
I feel like I'm all over the place here. Came to talk about my trip and ended up talking about fanservice and insecurity and god knows what. I guess it's the jetlag (yeah, let's go with that and blame it on the jetlag).
In any case I will go with my favorite saying as of late:
Why this whole long word vomit, you may ask (or you might not ask, who knows, lol)?
What the hell does this have to do with my trip?
Nothing...?
Probably, lol.
But I am going to try to connect the dots. Even if they did make sense in my mind when I first started writing this post and no longer do...
How about the fact that the two chose to take these trips together?
See how I did that? Connecting the unconnected?
Not even going to ask the egg-chicken question here, as I am quite positive it was always about the trips and the show/content for army was the excuse that allowed them to travel 'for work', and a little bonus of content for army when they are away - not to mention perhaps even an opportunity for a soft outing, who knows.
They wanted to spend this time together before enlistment.
We know of at least 3 trips. Connecticut, Jeju and Japan (the Jeju trip may or may not be part of that 'show').
We are yet to know what exactly this 'show' will be. Will it be an actual show, style BV or ITS? Will it be a Vlog? Will we be getting actual episodes or several minute clips? But one thing for sure. Whatever we get, it will be a drop in a lake of the time they spent together. They went on these trips to be together. They shot this 'show' to allow them to be on these trips. This 'show' will give us a glimpse, no more than that, of what they got up to while together. Bottom line - it's about them, not the show and definitley not us.
So yeah, tripping together (lol, as in traveling, just felt like using that fun word, which can mean so much more as well) is something couples love to do, and going on said trips prior to a huge life changing event (let's be real here, going into the military for 18 months, especially knowing that to be able to enlist TOGETHER, they will be placed in one of the harsher units and environments, knowing that even though they will be together they most certainly will not have the freedoms they enjoy prior to enlistment), well that is something they would do as well.
To sum this whole rant up:
I came here to show off some pics from my trip...
If Jikook are allowed to (and god help them all if we don't get that show eventually...), then so am I...
The scenery...
And the wild life
So there you have it.
I managed to talk about my trip and about Jikook all in one long ranty post.
To those that managed to work their way through it I have this to say:
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last sunday i was feeling very melancholic and had spent the night on call with my nan for hourssss talking about my transition. she stayed up with me for hours, we spoke about everything from my childhood signs, to my discovery, to my exploration and starting hormones etc etc, we spoke about everything.
but really it felt a bit like a funeral, that's how she described it. she said it felt like a eulogy of what it could have been because that entire phone call started with me saying i need to Stop. she got a random message from me asking if she'd be by my side if i detransitioned, so she called me and we spoke about so many things i hadn't told her before - all of the harrassments, the comments, the friendships that ended that i've pretended haven't for years. literally everything from the stabbing attempt last year to the friend that blocked me when i posted about my first day on T.
literally my entire life in this one phone call and she ended it with "just give it one more day". there's a small dent in the wall from my phone now because,,, what an infuriating reply, right? one more day. one more day??? no, i need to make a choice now? i'm so tired of waiting for things to make sense, i did that for years and then it Did and then it all fell to pieces because even One More Day is one more than they want me to have.
and then the next afternoon i set off to go to my seminar, and i'm walking along listening to a voice note i recorded over and over and over. one to be sent to my friends so that i don't have to type it. one that said it will take a while until i look like "myself" again, and i know this makes no sense to them and i'm glad it doesn't, but that they need to stop calling me robyn. a voice note, because it's easier to say my deadname than to see it written down. i don't know, it feels more official in letters. like maybe if i hear it enough it will blend in with every other sound. and i'm listening to this over and over in the hopes that i can build up the courage to send it.
and i step onto the bridge towards class, not looking where i'm going and i walk straightttt into someone and i'm all apologetic and i'm crying from the voice note and i'm a wreck but i walked into someone else who was typing on their phone
and there's a lil trans sticker on the back of it. and i've never seen this person before ever but they adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder because i was still apologising profusely and i said "i'm sorry" and they said "me too"
and i know we were talking about the crash. i know it's not what they meant because that's not what we were talking about but. idk. it's dumb and there's probably something poetic about us stepping onto the bridge at the same time and managing to bump right into each other but all i know is that they had a trans flag sticker on their phone and they smiled and they said "me too" and,,, idk. rambling.
but sometimes it really is just one more day. that's all you need sometimes. and sometimes you have to tell yourself that everyday, and that's okay. because other times you'll literally and physically bump into another trans person and they'll say "me too" for something entirely unrelated, but it makes you feel a little less alone regardless.
anyway, i'm saved in their phone as Robyn now and i think that's pretty cool actually, we're getting lunch together soon
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Pinned Down



Star and Stripe X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.2k+ A/N: I need more content for Star and Stripe. I fell in love with her ever since her manga debut.
"Yeah. Yes, I know. You don't need to tell me for a third time. Alright, fine! I'll be there soon."
A frustrated sigh came from behind me before the phone was thrown onto the nightstand, falling onto the ground. A low growl followed before a large set of warm arms wrapped around me tightly, almost crushing me.
"C-Cassie," I breathed out.
"Sorry," she loosened her grip, her face being buried into the top of my back.
I placed my hands on top of her larger ones, sighing myself as I felt myself almost drift off back to sleep.
"I've got to go," she said.
"I know."
"I don't want to."
"I don't want you to go either."
"But, duty calls."
"What now?"
"Drills. As usual."
"You're not in the army anymore. You're a fully fledged hero."
"I know, but remember, I was part of the army first," she got up, taking her warmth with her.
It was best that I get up since I had to get to work in a bit. While Cassie was in the shower getting ready, I was making our morning coffee along with toast, since I knew neither of us were able to sit down and eat together, especially Cassie.
The door to the bathroom opened up and she came rushing out, her army uniform haphazardly put on. She had her pants and boots on, but her black tank top was seen and the top half of her uniform wasn't even on. Her hair was slicked back due to it being wet.
"I've gotta run," she said as I handed her a travel cup full of coffee, just how she likes it, and the golden like piece of toast.
"Here, for the road."
"Thanks," she said and leaned towards me, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "I'll see you tonight."
"See you! Be careful, Cassie," I said.
"I'll try, but you know how it is around here," she sighed, opening up the door to our apartment and then closing it. A few seconds passed by and I heard the jangling of keys before the door opened up once more.
"I love you," she said, blowing me a kiss.
"I love you, too," I blew her one back in response.
Once I had gotten finished and ready for work, I drove out to the office building and got into my cubicle. It was a quaint little office, since I had my own room and everything. However, the people I could live without. It was hard keeping our relationship under lock and key. Whenever we were first going out, Cassie had to make sure no one was following her and we'd meet up at places that no one even knew. Of course it wasn't going to be easy with her being America's number one hero. And there would be times where I didn't see her for weeks when we were first dating. It was frustrating, but she'd always make up for it. Either by seeing me for almost a week or planned long dates where it ended up with me staying at her place. She truly was the greatest.
When word got out that we were dating, the entire media went nuts. Every one and their mothers tried to talk to her or me whenever we were out in public. Of course Cassie would always be there to protect me if anyone tried to harm me. With her being that big of a woman, she could easily deck someone and have them out cold on the ground. Not to mention her height was something you don't see every day for a woman. How did I catch her eye? Well, it was more of she caught my eye. Well, more like she caught me. Caught me falling hard and lacking.
My old apartment building was on fire and I was trying to get out. The only way for me to get out was to jump through a window. I was on the fifth floor and there was still a large way for me to go. It was either I get crushed by the building falling in on itself or I take a risk and jump. So I did. And Cassie, or Star and Stripe, caught me. I remember how her strong arms wrapped around me tightly, holding me close to her. She smiled warmly and winked as she landed on the ground. I was forever grateful to her and had tried to meet her several times until she came into my workplace, checking on me to make sure I was alright. It was that day when we became friends and it would be more than that.
I smiled to myself, finding one of the framed photos that sat on my desk. The one by my computer was of us at a dance the army was hosting. It was kind of comical, the photo. Because it was of us together, our foreheads pressed against one another, and Cassie had to lift me up. The other ones were of us and some were just of her. The one that I enjoyed was of me sitting on her shoulders and she was flexing her arms. I was doing the same thing, but my biceps were nothing compared to hers.
The work day had gone and went and before I knew it, I was driving back to our shared apartment. It was more like mine and then she moved in after we celebrated one year of being together. I headed up to our floor and unlocked the door, finding the entire apartment to be lit with only candles. What the?
"Cass?" I asked as I closed the door, slipping my shoes off. "Are you here, babe?"
Nothing. I started to lightly walk around the apartment until I reached our room, entering to find there were more candles. I couldn't see shit. I was about to turn on the light, but someone wrapped their arms around me, lifting me in the air.
"Holy shit!" I turned to find Cassie laughing as she lifted me with ease. "Don't scare me like that, Cass!"
"Sorry, hon," she smiled, setting me down.
"What are you doing here so early? I thought you weren't going to be back until later."
"Well, after I talked to the commander, he said I could go home earlier."
"How did you manage to do it today?"
"If I am remembering correctly," Cassie grabbed one of the candles and walked towards the calendar, illuminating the date.
"Shit!" I smacked my hand against my forehead. "I am so sorry, Cassie. I completely forgot what today was."
"No need to worry," she chuckled, placing the candle down on the desk. "I honestly forgot too until I left this morning."
"Is that why you came back in to say 'I love you'?"
"Yes," she was now in front of me, her hands finding their place on my hips.
"Well, guess we should celebrate," I said, my hand running up her large arm.
"Guess?" she laughed.
"We should celebrate."
"Can I be yours tonight?" she whispered.
"You're always mine," I said. "As long as I am yours."
"Always."
She lifted me up once more and walked over to the bed, pinning me between her and the mattress. I shuddered slightly, never getting used to the fact that I managed to get a woman like her. My right hand slid up her left forearm, over her large bicep, and her broad shoulder. She smirked, knowing how much I loved being pinned down by her.
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Story request
Reader is a maid to Donna, she is very much good at her job that's why Donna let's her stay. Little did Donna know is that Reader has mind of a psychopath and she is clearly very obsessed with Donna, she always looks at her from afar without Donna knowing and whenever she cleans her clothes she sniffing it to try and smell Donna's scent. Donna doesn't know because reader acts innocent all the time. Reader loves how timid and shy Donna is and is thinking some nasty stuff she would do to her in bed. One time reader couldn't take it anymore so she put Donna in her bed. Donna is afraid in what's happening. Reader then does all the nasty stuff she is thinking. Donna is not supposed to love it bit she does. Reader is very dominant, she does everything to please her lady. Their love making lasted for an hour, Donna is clearly exhausted but satisfied. Reader seeing Donna satisfied is very proud of what she had done. Reader then confess her feelings to her. Donna told her to stay with her forever. Reader kisses her deeply and they slept.
Note: Can you make it very naughty(only if it's okay with you)? Also their love making lasted for probation 7 hours(if you're uncomfortable about this it's okay). Not gn Donna
Smut plsss
Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))
Losing my mind
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem Maid! Reader
Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark reader, Reader's POV
Word count: 6,897
Summary: I don't know if I'm in love, or obsessed...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
“Okay, you can stay...”
Those words still resonate in my head when I'm alone, when I think about what I'm doing here, why I was granted the privilege of having you so close to me.
Well, like everything in life, it was a coincidence. I was never a model villager, one who followed the rules of the benevolent Black Gods. I was always one step ahead of that stuff. Mother Miranda, the Lords, the village... Everything was nothing but the universe that surrounded my disturbed mind.
Rebellious, irreverent and problematic, that's how my family defined me. That doesn't matter at all anymore. Despite saying that I had no talent, saying that I would end up being one of the many concubines of the lady of the castle, that never happened.
As a cold and calculating person, I managed to ensure that none of those fates people talked about for me were true. None of their predictions came true because I, always determined to be right, to get those ideas out of their heads, specialized in a job just as boring, but with other objectives.
I was always clear that I was not a piece of meat for someone to use as they pleased, if anyone had to use someone, it would be me, even if it seemed crazy in a place like that. My face is innocent, my mind is not.
Perhaps that physical superficiality granted me the privilege of having a much better job than the rest of those who called themselves my friends. Castle concubine? Never.
Maid? Maybe, that didn't sound so bad, but not just any maid.
I liked risks, always putting myself on the edge of the abyss, risking everything recklessly, and that's what I did when I entered the forest, walking towards an almost forbidden place, the Beneviento Estate.
Showing up like that, without warning, claiming my right to work for one of the bosses was crazy, but I don't regret it.
Donna Beneviento, the youngest of the Lords, the most disturbed, the strangest, the loneliest. No one had ever seen her face. No one had been close to her without feeling the slightest terror. Of course, I've already said it. I was never like the others.
The smile graced my face when her dark figure appeared in the doorway. I was surprised I wasn't afraid. I didn't tremble when she appeared. Again, I came, I watched, and I conquered.
Despite the reluctance the lady in black had with me, despite telling me over and over again she didn't want a maid, in the end, she accepted. Insistence? No, not at all. She could strike me down with just a wave of her hands. Loneliness? It could be. Curiosity? Then we would have something in common.
Sometimes I think that I had very high confidence in everything I did, or maybe I tried harder to maintain that curious job. At first it could well have been like that, at first.
Cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, making tea... A boring job in a not so boring place. I definitely liked that job. I felt exactly how I wanted, alone, or almost.
The appearances of the lady in black were few, her words nonexistent. She only spoke through that sinister doll, never with her own voice. Dry orders, absurd rules and infrequent thanks, that was all my communication with her, at least the first few weeks.
But just when I thought my life could become normal, the opposite happened. Suddenly I saw myself going up to my room slowly, with my gaze riveted on that portrait, a portrait of the lady in black, with her face uncovered, with her beauty exposed to me.
I was never made of stone. I never denied my attraction to women, especially dangerous women, but that beauty... That went much further than other times. It could be the mystery, that small feeling of intrigue of not knowing how that beauty had been spoiled, of not knowing what was behind that black veil.
Curiosity little by little became obsession, the worst of my sins, the worst of my flaws.
“Here is your tea, my lady,” I said kindly, while the lady in black was studying a book on her desk.
My words bounced off the walls, as if the mansion itself was longing to retain them, as if it had been longing to hear a human being speak for too many years.
She, as usual, shook her head in gratitude. It could have been just another day, another empty interaction, but my hands were already trembling in her presence and my mind had been imagining her for days, near me at night, very close to me.
“Do you need anything else, my lady?” I asked politely, trying to sound like always, like the innocent girl I pretended to be. She turned her head towards me, puzzled by this strange behavior. Maybe it was too obvious, maybe not.
“N-No...” She murmured hoarsely, almost silently, making me freeze on the wooden floor.
That mysterious, whispering, melodic voice, reached my ears to disturb me even more. It was the first time I had listened to it and I knew, to my dismay, I didn't want to stop doing it. But no, I couldn't let my obsession be seen, I couldn't stop being the innocent maid, her innocent maid.
“Okay, I'll leave then,” I said, lowering my head as a sign of respect, the respect she deserved. I turned around, ready to find a corner of the house to clean, a place where I could let myself be carried away by my thoughts, where I could think about that voice, her voice.
“Wait,” the soft, hoarse sound of that voice interrupted my walk and I had to take a deep breath to not get nervous, or rather, to not seem nervous. I composed myself in less than a second and turned around slowly, with that kind look that I knew how to fake that well.
“Do you want anything else from me, my lady?” I asked, slurring my words, feeling the blush creeping up my cheeks.
Maybe I hadn't chosen my words well but no one could blame me, not after hearing that beautiful voice. No, surely my disturbed mind caused me to misinterpret my own words.
“Come,” she ordered me, gesturing with her hand for me to come closer again. I nodded slowly and obeyed immediately, having complete control of my emotions, putting on that innocent maid face.
I got close enough for her perfume to enter my body again, like the few times I managed to get close enough for that to be possible.
Lavender, a beautiful flower, beautiful like her. I could get lost in a lavender field. I wanted to do it, just to live with her smell attached to my body, so my brain wouldn't forget it, so I could feel her close to me. I was rambling again, I had to stop it.
The lady sighed, as if she herself were confused, as if she didn't know what to say. I shouldn't be surprised. She had never spoken to me directly.
“Is the tea not to your liking, my lady?” I asked again, with a look of concern. I wish it had been like that, I wish I could have gotten so close again.
“The tea is fine, (Y/N),” she replied after clearing her throat and shaking her head. “I would like to ask you a question.”
A question. How curious. Since I arrived, Lady Beneviento, Donna, didn't want anything to do with me. She knew my name because I told her. She didn't show the slightest interest. That was something that tormented me, until that moment.
“Fine,” I said, smiling kindly, with my hands in front of my body, playing with each other in a subtle way, thus channeling my nerves, the sensations the lavender perfume sent to my body.
“You don't have to answer, but I would like you to,” Donna whispered, maintaining that mysterious tone, the look that her veil prevented me from seeing, but not intuiting.
“I will be delighted to answer, my lady,” I said, lowering my head again, showing her dominance over me, the superiority that she should have with a maid, with her maid.
She nodded slowly, playing with the tea spoon, pondering what to say, or what to ask. If she didn't know what she wanted to know, why talk to me?
“Why me?” She asked after a few moments of hesitation, making me take a breath and breathe deeply, in an effort to maintain the innocence on my face.
“Excuse me, my lady, but I don't understand you,” I said, curious and confused by that strange question, taking care of even the smallest detail of my voice.
“You are an excellent maid, (Y/N),” she responded, lowering her gaze, removing her invisible eyes from mine. “You cook well, the house is better than ever... Don't get me wrong, I'm delighted with you, you know, being here... But I can't stop thinking about the reasons a girl like you could have to work for me instead of going to the castle.”
Those compliments filtered into my ears, echoing in my mind again and again, almost ignoring the rest of her words. She was delighted with me, but she never showed it, maybe I should have learned to interpret her vague gestures and the Angie doll's words better.
“The castle?” I asked automatically, as if my own mind was giving me a hand so as not to spoil everything, so that my obsessive thoughts would not give me away. Donna nodded slowly again.
“All the girls in the village who want to be maids always go to the castle,” she murmured, pushing aside her veil a to take a sip from her cup of tea. Everything I saw only fueled my dark thoughts more.
Those lips, that pale skin, that woman in the portrait who came to life before my eyes, everything had to be reason enough for my breathing to become heavy. But I couldn't do it, I was her maid, her innocent maid, not the obsessive girl who thought about her every night.
“Well, I'm not like the most of people,” I said amused, with a smile that feigned shyness, that feigned embarrassment because my lady was talking to me. I was always good at pretending, but I didn't know how long I could keep doing it, how long my mask could stay on, having that lavender perfume so close.
“Aren’t you? Why?” Donna asked, curious, gesturing for me to sit in a nearby chair. “Explain yourself.”
I obeyed, sitting in that chair. I was so terribly close to her. Love and obsession are only separated by a very fine line and I didn't even know where that line was, for a long time.
“Well...” I murmured, not knowing exactly what to say, or what she expected me to say. “I never liked doing what others did.”
Donna nodded curiously, tilting her head, as if she were studying my gestures.
“That doesn't answer my question, (Y/N),” she said in a whisper, one that seemed dark, but was surely as innocent as my expression, as my expression was intended to be.
“Well, I...” I said, a bit insecure, trembling involuntarily, seeing myself cornered in my own trap.
“You're nervous,” she interrupted, bringing her body a little closer to mine, as if she had discovered the trembling of my hands, one that I tried to avoid, without success.
“A bit, my lady,” I admitted, much to my regret. It probably wasn't the nervousness she was thinking of, but it could serve as an excuse.
“You’re afraid of me,” the lady in black stated, resting her back on the chair, impatiently tapping her desk with her fingers.
“No, my lady,” I said immediately, removing that idea from her head.
Donna shook her head strangely as if she were thinking my words were a blatant lie. They were not.
“You will be,” she said in a hoarse voice, as if she were trembling, while she brought one of her hands to the black cloth of her face, moving it away so I could look at her.
My eyes widened as I contemplated her beauty, my mouth opened to say something as my memory fixed each of those features in my head. Beautiful, precious, dazzling, those were the words that came to my mind. No, that small defect on her face was not a reason to be scared, but the feelings that began to run through my nervous system were.
But I couldn't stay like that, I had to be innocent, I had to be good, her good maid.
“You're not running away,” she murmured strangely, removing the cloth completely and leaving it on the desk. “Have you been paralyzed?”
I shook my head, realizing this was nothing but a small trap, a test to continue being a maid, her maid. My cold and calculating mind had discovered it on its own and my breathing and trembling relaxed to demonstrate the truthfulness of the words I was going to say.
“Yes, because of her beauty, my lady,” I said with a sweet voice, revealing no other intentions than those of a kind and accommodating maid, although I didn't know if that was really what Donna was hoping to hear.
Her expression changed, as if she had heard something strange.
“Sei una bugiarda...” she whispered, with that darkness that accompanied her gaze. Fortunately, I was prepared for everything, I had been preparing for a conversation with her for too long. “Io sono orribile”
“Non è vero,” I said, bringing out my weapons, demonstrating how valuable I was as a maid.
“You know Italian,” she said, relaxing her expression upon hearing my clumsy and probably terribly mispronounced words.
“A little,” I answered proudly, under her attentive gaze, one that I could already see, one that I could already imagine, that I would no longer be that cold portrait on the stairs. “I learned for you, my lady.”
“For me?” She asked, blinking repeatedly, trying not to get lost in the confusion of your answers, or in your shy look, I didn't know exactly what she could be thinking.
I nodded, with that innocent smile on my face, sighing, indicating that my words were true.
“I like to do my job well, my lady,” I said proudly, to which she finally smiled. She let me see that beautiful smile, one that only appeared in my dreams.
“I've kept you enough, (Y/N), you should get back to your tasks,” Donna said, looking away from me suddenly, frowning, making my smile fade. Just thinking about not smelling that lavender made me sick, but I had to obey, I had to be good, good for her, her good maid.
“Fine, my lady,” I said politely, getting up from the chair and slowly walking away from the desk, repressing the temptation to turn around, to imagine her bright eye was still fixed on my body.
That night was horrible.
Now that I had seen her face, my obsession worsened. And not only had I been lucky enough to contemplate her beauty, but I had been able to have a conversation with her, a real one, a close, although strange, conversation.
As I tossed and turned in bed, I imagined what our future conversations would be like, if they would be about trivial topics, if they would simply be words of gratitude, if I would see that smile again.
My thoughts remained stable, thinking only of innocent acts, of quiet closeness, of simply staying close to that lavender perfume. I knew, I knew that it wouldn't stay that way, I knew what I was like, I knew how damaged my mind was, how that small attraction would lead to the most psychopathic obsession.
For a moment I thought about giving up, about running away from that house so as not to lose my mind anymore, but it seemed impossible. Just as my dreams had predicted, those conversations came, becoming a routine of seemingly empty words, but full of meaning for me.
Love or obsession, what a dichotomy. I didn't know where my limit was, what my real thoughts or feelings for Donna were, I just knew that they were there, that they had been hidden in my subconscious for too long. Love at first sight didn’t exist, but obsession did. So... Was I obsessed? Isn't love an obsession itself?
I should have learned that lesson in time. I should have stopped thinking about Donna at least for a moment and returned to the reality of my world. I was her maid, her good and innocent maid, who hid a demon inside her, a demon that would soon want to come out, and that I had to remain locked up.
But I was always weak to my own desires. My trust with Donna grew so much that I couldn't tell if I was truly serving her or worshiping her. Always keeping my subtle smile, always being the innocent girl she seemed interested in.
Love or loneliness? What was in the feelings of the lady in black? Was it possible that she thought of me in some way? No, it seemed unlikely, not at least in the way my mind strayed from the right path, stopping imagining what her kisses would be like, and starting to think about what her naked body would be like, about the marks that would be on her skin, in those places that my lips wanted to rest on.
The nights became a continuous nightmare, one that I didn't want to leave. My mind imagined places, scenarios in which I got what I wanted, in which our bodies hugged each other naked. I imagined what it would be like to feel her wetness, her arousal as she felt my touch worshiping her skin. I imagined her moans, surely soft and shy, like her. I wondered if she had ever felt that way, if some hateful person had been lucky enough to taste her honey.
Just the fact that this was possible made me burn with rage. No, Donna never had that luck, or that misfortune. She was shy. I was her only human contact, apart from her siblings.
Thinking, recreating in my mind those scenarios in which Donna begged for her release, in which my fingers curled around her body while the sweat covered my back, they were too powerful, so much so that I began to stop dreaming, to act.
Every night my hands traveled over my body, grabbing my clothes as if they were her delicate fingers, as if Donna were the one undressing me. Every night I murmured her name as I pleasured myself, with the image of her in my mind, with her beauty clouding my rational thinking, if there was any left.
Innocent on the outside, sinner on the inside. That was what my conscience was telling me after imagining those events, after imagining what it would be like to have that perfume on my body, what it would be like to scratch her skin while she writhed in pleasure under my gaze.
I was going completely crazy. So much so that I began to notice a lack of inspiration in my nightly binges. Even conversations like the ones we used to have weren't enough anymore. My head memorized each of her words, each of her gestures, but it was no longer enough.
Donna had become a drug for me, and that made my dependence on her grow to the point of spying on her, of looking at her through the crack in the door. Watching how she worked on her dolls, how she handled the porcelain between her fingers, wishing that material would be replaced by my skin.
Like a dangerous stalker, I became her shadow, one that traveled behind her wherever she went. Nothing could stop my obsession, nor my madness. Only her, only Donna could calm my fears, just seeing her act independently, oblivious to the fact that my eyes were watching her, could be a relief for me.
And then, it was time to do the laundry, another problem for me. The lavender perfume was always present in her clothes and I, desperate, obsessed, addicted to it, smelled it in a disturbing way, wishing to never forget that scent, to have it close to me. More nights of self-lust, more thoughts, more lavender, more stalking. That's what I became, sin itself, the complete opposite of what my smile represented.
“No, I couldn't drink any more,” Donna said amused, one night when the fire in the fireplace crackled as if nothing was happening. My innocent look was still on my face as I poured some more liquid into her wine glass.
“Come on, my lady, some more wine won't hurt you. They say it's good for the heart,” I said, kindly, blinking effusively and offering her glass, which she reluctantly took. That late-night talk, adulterated by wine, was the worst thing that could happen to my obsession.
“Is it? Who says that?” She asked, her voice intoxicated by alcohol.
“Me,” I said amused, pointing to myself, bringing my own glass to my lips, but not drinking. I wanted to stay awake, I wanted to see how Donna would behave if she lost a bit, just a bit of her usual shyness.
“You...” She murmured, with a suspicious but childish look at the same time, leaning back on the sofa in an awkward manner, thus revealing her incipient state of intoxication. “You say many things…”
“What things, my lady?” I asked amused, also settling down and raising my eyebrows.
“Lies... You know... Things about me being beautiful, and good...” Donna drawled, finishing her fifth glass of wine in one gulp, making a face of displeasure.
“That’s not a lie, my lady,” I said, maintaining the composure that I was beginning to lack. My gaze became dangerous when I observed her erratic gestures and her nervous laughter, her cheeks flushed with wine.
“Yes, yes, yes... Whatever you say,” she said, nodding comically, looking for the bottle with her hands, something that you prevented, pretending to worry about her.
“I think you have already drunk enough, my lady,” I commented amusedly, moving the bottle out of her reach, making her protest with a moan that I found amusing and exciting... No, I couldn't get carried away. Her condition was my fault.
“My lady, my lady...” She mocked, putting a finger on my chest and pushing me against the sofa. I laughed, surprised, but I let her act on her own. “Why so many my lady?”
“Because you are my lady, and I’m your maid,” I explained in a calm voice, sitting up, studying her state calmly.
“Oh, really? I thought we were friends,” Donna said, with an accusatory tone, completely distorted by intoxication. I remained thoughtful, trying not to react to those words as my body asked me to.
“Well, yes, we are friends, but above all, you’re my lady,” I said, with a calm tone, observing her erratic movements, her shy laugh that shook my nerves again.
Donna looked at me, her eye shining with alcohol, but with a strange expression, approaching little by little, crawling along the sofa until she was very close to me, so close that the delicious aroma of lavender mixed with the wine clouded my senses, again.
“I like that we're friends,” she whispered, too close to my lips, too close to allow me to think with any clarity.
“Me too, my lady,” I said, trying not to look at her tender, half-open lips, trying not to get lost in her closeness, in her intoxicating perfume, adulterated by the wine.
“If you say my lady one more time, I'll fire you,” she said with an amused voice, pushing me again. I remained calm, raising my eyebrows, but not moving.
“What do you want me to call you?” I asked politely, letting her hand travel to mine. Donna had a lost, lowered gaze, looking at everything and seeing nothing. Her warm hand passed through mine, her fingers played with mine. I couldn't think it was a dream, it wasn't.
“Donna,” she whispered, looking at me sharply, with a confused expression, blinking, as if she were about to lose consciousness.
“Donna...” I repeated, letting my intentions reveal themselves. She wasn't going to notice. I doubted she even knew where she was.
She was too drunk, and I was too in love, or obsessed, or both. Her confused face gave a small smile and her lips came dangerously close to mine, tempting me, making her have to pray to the Gods not to make that mistake, that much-desired mistake.
“I like the way it sounds…” She whispered, just before placing her lips on mine, just before her temptation stopped being so. It hadn't been me, it had been her. She was kissing me. My torment, my relief, my drug and my salvation was kissing me and I couldn't react any other way.
The smell of lavender mixed with the taste of her lips, with that touch of wine that made me regret that she was really acting involuntarily. Her lips were soft, heavenly caresses that mingled with mine, with my experience making up for her lack of it. A first kiss to be ashamed of, endless sensations, food for the thoughts of my disturbed mind.
She grunted, after a few moments that I wanted to be eternal, after some messy and clumsy kisses, but that seemed sincere, they seemed. Donna collapsed onto my chest, being held by my arms. As if those kisses hadn't happened, her body shifted in mine. Donna was drunk. She kissed you because of the wine, not because of her feelings. That phrase my conscience repeated was like a sharp dagger to my heart.
“Do you feel sick?” I asked politely, not mentioning what had just happened. She shook her head with another grunt, getting more comfortable on your chest.
“I'm… Sleepy,” she murmured, yawning, making it clear that none of those kisses were really sincere.
For once in all the time you had been in the mansion, your good side, your side lacking psychopathy, prevailed over the demon. No, you weren't going to take advantage of that opportunity, you couldn't do it. At least you had some humanity left.
“Come, let's go to bed,” I said, helping the lady in black to get up, to which she protested with more childish grunts.
That night I cried.
I cried for those kisses, for that impulsive act that Donna did involuntarily. Those kisses, the taste of her lips, the lavender, everything was so perfect that it seemed unreal, and in part, it was.
My mind had saved my soul from committing an atrocity, but the demon inside me screamed louder than ever. Only I had two options left: run away, or give up.
Neither was acceptable, but a third way appeared again in my thoughts, one that had the same voice as the devil, one that screamed at me to take what I wanted, to stop pretending to be the good girl and take out the light my true personality.
It was afternoon, so the clocks said. Donna had a hard day and I decided to leave her alone for the moment. It was the first time I failed to fulfill my maid duties. My mind schemed, plotting the best way to carry out my desires. The sensations of her kisses, the images my mind had created, all of it broke the last thread of sanity I had left. You should never have kissed me, Donna.
I walked quickly, following my intuition, following the steps I knew I had to take to find her. I grabbed her wrist, fighting not to hear her questions, or her protests. I guided her towards the bedroom, furious, letting myself be carried away by the evil inside me. I couldn't hear Donna, I couldn't tell if she was protesting or quiet. Her body was weak compared to my pulls. It wasn't difficult for me to drag her to the bedroom.
Once there, I closed the door and pushed my lady against the wall, cornering her with my body. Her eyes were scared and her chest was rising and falling quickly. She had no escape, she couldn't escape me anymore.
“(Y/N), what are you doing?” She asked with her voice broken by fear, by the change from my innocent look to an evil one, by the vision I had of the demon that had dominated my body.
“I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore. You can kill me, fire me if you want, but you couldn't stop me from taking what I want...” I whispered, getting closer to her lips, dragging the words, which came furiously from my mouth.
“What do you want?” She asked, trembling, cornered. I, (Y/N), a simple villager, had put a Lord on the ropes. Surely songs would be sung about me if I didn't survive.
“I want you,” I said quickly, wasting no time, throwing myself at her soft lips, enjoying them like the night before, knowing that the wine was no longer in them, knowing that both of us could feel everything that was going on.
It could be my imagination, but if you asked me, I could swear that she kissed me back, that her lips tasted mine the same way. It was a shame that my desire was stronger than those sensations.
Quickly, leaving no room for doubt, not allowing Donna to escape my clutches, I roughly lunged for the buttons on her dress, making them disappear under my experienced fingers. She just panted confusedly, not knowing what to do or what to say. She shouldn't want it, she shouldn't like it, but somehow, she did.
Her hands grabbed my face, bringing it closer to hers, pulling it until our lips collided again, more fiercely, without the feeling of not knowing if at some point she was going to get rid of me. She didn't seem to want to do it, but I didn't care, I kept working on her clothes, sinking into her neck, moving my body against hers, covering myself in lavender.
My leg landed between hers, causing her head to tilt back, giving me the room to push that dress of hers away from her skin, to reveal her pale, beautiful, naked torso to me.
I couldn't entertain myself, but still, I did, I stopped to contemplate her unmatched beauty, the softness of her skin as my hands brushed it. She trembled, but she no longer did it out of fear. Her eye was closed and her breathing was rapid, her body moving involuntarily against mine.
My madness was unleashed, but so was my desire, and so was hers. The kisses bounced off the walls, the hands wandered over her body, over my body. Feeling the softness of her touch on my skin made me want more, much more.
“(Y/N)...” Donna murmured, moving away from my wild actions, looking at me with an expression that I couldn't interpret.
Trying to silence the voices in my head, those orders that the demon was giving me, I gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her until she fell on the bed, crawling, as if she wanted to escape from me.
“You don't know how sorry I am...” I said, also climbing onto the bed, grabbing her wrists, putting them on either side of her head so she couldn't move. “But I have to do it…”
“Do it,” Donna said, with a firm, confident look, with her fists clenched and breathing hard.
I wasn't expecting that answer, I was confused, thinking more rationally, thinking that maybe I should stop following the delusions of my mind. But that look, her half-bare chest, her glowing skin, the lavender. Everything made me let her wrists go, just to caress her arms, to climb onto her hips while my lips devoured hers again.
Her hands, now free, traveled along my back, searching for the closure of my maid's dress, which soon gave way, with a growl from my lips, removing that fabric from me, the fabric that separated my body from hers.
Clothes flew across the room and I was about to thank the Gods that I was still alive to see what was in front of me. Her naked chest, her womanly forms that were not of this world and that were now at my mercy. My lips acted before my mind, traveling to her breasts hungrily, devouring, licking her flesh like a beast, like a predator that hunted her prey.
Like a chant I remembered from dreams, Donna moaned as my teeth made contact with her most sensitive spots. Her hands moved erratically over my body while mine had a clear goal.
The bottom of her dress gave way quickly, aided by a gentle movement of her hips.
Suddenly, my lady's shyness returned to her gaze, causing her hands to leave my naked body to cover her shame, that which was still hidden by her underwear. I blinked and took a breath, relaxing my dominant attitude for a moment and removing those hands from my target.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Donna, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” I whispered, very close to her ear while my hands moved hers, moving them to either side of her hips. She looked at me, as if in silent supplication. I didn't know exactly why she was pleading and I didn't want to know.
“(Y/N) I...” She began, interrupted by my hand on her mouth. No, I didn't want to talk. There would be time to talk, to die, to flee… Now was not the time, my body didn't want to stop, neither did hers, shaking her hips against mine, making me close my eyes from the contact.
“Shh, my Donna... I'll take care of you...” I said with a somewhat perverse whisper, but that made the lady nod, closing her eye while my fingers removed the black fabric that covered the last part of her naked body, that obvious humidity I imagined possessing in my dreams.
She didn't protest anymore, she simply moaned when one of my fingers had the courage, or the audacity, to run through the moisture lying between her legs, caressing her superficially while my gaze observed her gestures, the blush of her cheeks.
That made me smile, adding another finger to that lustful way, going deeper, savoring with my fingers the humidity of her folds, each and every one of the sensations she felt with it.
I tried to say something, something to accompany my gestures, something that would help Donna stop shaking, so she would stop fearing what was to come. I smiled again when I realized, when I knew that only I had come this far, that no one else had been able to enjoy that touch, that her body was mine, only mine.
I leaned down to kiss her slowly, while my fingers continued playing between her legs, gently making circles on her clit, causing my lips to vibrate with her moans.
“Wait, please,” Donna said hurriedly, pushing you away from her lips. I looked at her furiously, just when I believed that there were no longer any doubts, that I would be free to do as I pleased.
I didn't say anything, I just waited for her to speak, which she didn't do. She just looked at me with curiosity, with fear.
“I won't hurt you,” I said, thinking that maybe it would be her fear, that her fear of her first time was overshadowing the pleasure. “I promise.”
Donna shook her head, cupping my face in her hands, scratching my cheeks with her nails.
“Be gentle, I’m begging you,” she whispered to me, with her eye closed, with her nails damaging my skin, with the trembling of her body making mine move involuntarily, seeking the contact of my bare hips with her thigh.
“You are my lady, I couldn't be any other way,” I said with a cold, impatient voice, with a disturbed look that made her sigh in fear, letting my hand rest on her chest, pushing her roughly against the mattress. “Lie down and shut up. I promise you that you will enjoy it,” I ordered with the demon inside me guiding my dominant words. She nodded scared and that was more than enough for my hand to return to her wetness, for my fingers to continue gently stimulating her.
“But...” She murmured, squirming involuntarily with pleasure.
“Taci, Donna,” I said with a stern voice, pushing her body back onto the mattress. She looked at me with fear, with real fear, but her face relaxed, stopping looking at me, closing her eye to suppress her shame.
Before having to get more serious, before bringing to light all the desire I had to dominate her, I decided to take the step. I decided to gradually introduce the tips of my fingers into her, into her eager humidity, excited despite her doubts.
Donna grimaced strangely, surprised by the sensation, but not in pain, or so it seemed. Dark thoughts came to my mind again, deducing that just as I suspected, she was a human being with the needs of a human being. Yes, it was obvious that she had enjoyed her own body. It didn't matter if she denied it to me. I knew she did.
That made me moan, lunging at her neck, rubbing filthy on her leg as my fingers did their work at her entrance, sliding in and out of her, making her arms, erratic and trembling, embrace what they could of my body.
There were no more protests, no complaints, no fears. Only moans, only the wet sound of my fingers playing inside of her, running along her walls, enjoying that unique softness, the scratches of her nails on my back.
But, like lavender, that sensation had to be better, I had to feel it more, to taste it until my smell was confused with hers.
Devoting one last look to her expression, which betrayed the immense pleasure she was feeling, I moved down her torso, covering her pale, shiny skin with kisses, making her beauty mine.
The taste of her arousal was overwhelming, as was the movement of her hips when my tongue made contact with her skin. I wanted to drink her, eat her, devour her, possess her, make me her mine. My mouth moved furiously, eagerly, accompanied by her faithful moans, almost exhausted. My fingers didn’t stop moving, harmonizing with my kisses, with the caresses of my mouth on her folds, with those moans that I myself made when I felt all the essence of her covering my body.
Little by little, her body began to move in a different way. Her instincts had taken over, her release was close. Leaving aside my own desire, I focused on making her feel that way, on seeing that expression that I could only imagine, that I could only dream of.
An indiscreet moan, possibly audible throughout the mansion, let me know that the end had come, that her ecstasy was coursing through her body while a firm and curiously mischievous hand kept me in that place, as if she were the one who didn't want me to escape. She wanted me to continue with my kisses, with my caresses.
There was a moment of silence and I closed my eyes, catching my breath. The sight of her body, of her chest rising and falling quickly dispelled my evilness. It wasn't regret, but it was a wish to give her an explanation, for her to know why. I gave her one last kiss on her wetness and climbed up her body, settling next to hers, not daring to look at her face.
“(Y/N)...” The lady sighed, moving my face to meet hers.
“I love you,” I said, with a sad tone, with a regretful tone but at the same time satisfied, proud of having made her feel that pleasure. “I'm sorry, Donna, I'm in love with you.”
“Why are you sorry?” She asked, snuggling into my chest, tired, drowsy from her release.
“Because I made a mistake and you will never be able to forgive me,” I confessed, with eyes full of tears, knowing this was the beginning of my end, although really, my fears were not letting me see the reality of the situation.
“I won't forgive you if you abandon me, (Y/N)” she said, with a pleading eye, looking at me with a different face, one I had never seen before, one... In love?
“Do you mean...?” I asked a bit confused, also tired from passion. She nodded, intertwining our fingers.
“Yes, I love you, (Y/N), I love you and I don't want you to leave, I want you to do more things like this to me, I want you to live with me, not be my maid, I want you to stay with me, forever.”
My lips didn't wait to hear more. They kissed her deeply, showing how happy it made me not to have made that mistake, showing that with her, my sanity would return to my heart.
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Dripping in Gold | Chapter 3

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.
pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader
themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, smut. kissing, brief fingering (f receiving), car sex. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.3k
a/n: the way i've given up proofreading this lmao lemme know if y'all find any errors bc i'm simply not looking for em anymore! anyways eat up :)
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What the hell did I get myself into?
The question repeats in your mind while the cool air in Gojo’s car blasts against your skin, still hot from earlier, as his hand returns to its natural place along your thigh.
After your little encounter, he promised to take you to one of his favorite places for lunch. He also promised to wash your soiled panties for you as he shoved them into his pocket with a smirk, citing how “gentlemanly” he is.
The events of less than an hour prior replay in your mind as you remember how his touch felt, how his lips pressed against yours, how badly you wanted him to bend you over and fuck you then and there. But instead, he just picked up all the dresses you had tried on and marched them out of the changing room to the front of the store, setting them down and paying without a second thought. “Oh, and we’ll take the yellow one she’s wearing, too,” he chirps to the attendant as she rings up an amount you can’t even fathom.
You get pulled out of your thoughts as the car stops, your door opening suddenly as Gojo once again holds his hand out to you. He has brought you to an adorable restaurant you’ve never even seen before, with yellow flowers lining the walkways and windowsills of the old building, perfectly complementing the new outfit you have on.
Once again, the date is actually really lovely. He orders you both champagne and tells you to get whatever else you want from the menu, and conversation flows naturally between you two, almost like old friends. Wanting to learn more about him, you direct the discussion to his past, probing to understand more about his background. While he often acts like an open book, you find that there are three things he will absolutely not talk about: his family, his home, or his money. Whenever one of these topics comes up he maneuvers the conversation elsewhere, often deflecting back to you.
That said, holy shit does this man love to talk - you bet that if you put him in an empty room he’d speak just to hear his own voice. He seems to know something about everything, and he wants to make sure you know it, too.
“Do you ever shut up?” you tease after his fourth time interjecting a random, unwarranted piece of information into a story you were telling him.
“Hmm,” he thinks, bringing a hand up to ruffle through his hair. “Nope, I don’t think so,” a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
While the time you spend with him is nice, his inability to be forthcoming does put you slightly on edge. You can’t help but find yourself wondering, in a tiny corner of the back of your mind, what’s the catch? Why is someone who seems so perfect possibly interested in you?
You push the feelings of unease down as you continue your meal. Eventually you look up and see his eyes locked on yours, taking in your every move. The cerulean pierces through you like a cold wind, and you can’t quite place the feeling it sends through you until you feel his fingertips brush against your knee from under the table.
Desire.
“You know,” you say, a grin slowly forming on your face, “I love this dress, but I almost feel like it’s getting a bit uncomfortable.”
“Oh yeah?” he tilts his head, knowingly playing into your little game. “Well, that’s a shame.” He sighs dramatically. “I guess you could take it off, if you really need to.”
“Mhm,” you hum, “I might need your help with that, though.”
Leaning forward slightly, his words come out airy, “Anything for you, princess.”
He stands up and holds his hand out again, your fingers intertwining with his as his free hand pulls out his wallet and drops a few hundred dollar bills on the table, more than enough to cover your meal. Leading you back to his car, you feel your heart start to race in anticipation.
Pulling open the back door, you hop in first and get comfortable against the seat before he joins you inside. You hadn’t noticed how spacious the back of his car is but you’re grateful that it at least won’t be uncomfortable; you expected him to take you back to his place or yours, but this will do just fine for now, as your need for him was increasing with every second he wasn’t inside you.
Immediately upon closing the door his lips crash into yours, soft and warm against the lingering cool air inside the vehicle. As you sit in his lap his arms reach around your body to undo the zipper of your dress before sliding it over your head, tossing it somewhere into the depths of the car.
Since your panties were already stuffed into his pocket and you hadn’t worn a bra, you were now fully bare in front of him. He pulls away from the kiss for a moment, allowing his eyes to slowly cover every inch of your body, taking you in as a smile curls at the corners of his lips.
Gojo lays down with his back against the seats so you can straddle him, legs around his waist as you start to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With your eyes closed and hands shaking slightly in excitement, you take longer than the man would like as he sighs against your lips and simply rips his shirt open, muttering “I’ll buy a new one,” as it slides off his shoulders.
Your eyes open for a moment to take in his body beneath you - his firm chest, abs surrounded by a v-line that dipped below the waist of his pants, practically begging you to trace along it with your fingers. As you do, you hear Gojo’s breath hitch momentarily at your touch.
“Aw, are you nervous?” you tease against him as your fingertips brush along his waistband, slowly fumbling against the buckle of his belt.
He smirks at you through the kiss. “Just impatient.”
Before you can quip back, he has undone his belt and zipper, allowing you to pull his black slacks down to his ankles, sitting up slightly to let him kick them off. Your hands find the top of his black boxers before his hands wrap around your wrists.
Pulling his mouth away from yours for a moment, his eyes open to meet your gaze. “Are you sure?” he asks through a breathy sigh.
You nod eagerly, starting to lean back down before a hand reaches up to stop you.
“Say it,” he commands, voice suddenly low and raspy.
“I want to fuck you, Satoru,” the words barely leaving your mouth before your lips crash back into his, a new greediness between both of you as your tongues glide against each other’s.
Your attention turns back to undressing him as you pull his boxers down, revealing his fully erect cock. The tip flushed, needy, drawing your hands to it as you use your thumb to drag the leaking precum around his tip before sliding your hand loosely down his length. Satoru sighs into your open mouth at the feeling, reaching his own hand down between your legs.
As soon as he touches you, you feel electricity shoot through your body, his fingers barely brushing against your clit. Maybe you were still horny from earlier, maybe you just needed him that badly, but something in you couldn’t wait any longer.
Your hips move so you’re hovering above him, using your hand around his base to align him with your entrance. His tip slowly enters you, the feeling already threatening to send you over the edge as you envelop him in your warmth.
He moans your name softly as you drop your hips to take all of him inside of you. His cock stretches at your walls, the mix of pleasure and pain better than anything you’ve felt before. You fit him perfectly as he fills up every last inch of you, your wetness allowing him to glide in and out with ease.
“Wanted you so bad,” he murmurs against your lips as you grind your hips in circles up and down his length, “needed you.” One of his hands grips at your waist while the other snakes behind you to grab the thick flesh of your ass.
You continue your movements, using one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, his cock pressing into every last part of you. “S’good, you feel s’good,” he babbles, a never-ending stream of consciousness leaving his mouth as your body moves against his.
Damn, he really can’t shut up, can he? you think to yourself with a grin.
You don’t mind though, the silky lightness of his voice only adding to your pleasure. As you feel yourself approaching your release, your pussy clenches around him, eliciting another moan from the man underneath you.
His grip tightens on your waist as he suddenly begins thrusting his hips up into you, adding to the pace. You open your eyes slightly as he reaches even deeper into you, glancing down to see the veins in his arms as his fingers dig into your skin.
“F-fuck, I’m close,” he whines, desperation dripping from his voice as he continues pumping into you.
“Me too, ‘Toru,” the words leaving your throat in a hoarse whisper.
You don’t even process the nickname, something simply spoken out of ease as sounds struggled to escape your lips through moans of pleasure, but it sends butterflies through Satoru’s body as he is suddenly pushed into his climax. You follow almost immediately, your body racked with pleasure as your legs shake and cunt flutters around his cock as he finishes inside of you.
The humidity of the car finally hits you as you try to slow your breathing, realizing both you and Satoru are covered in a thin layer of sweat as you peel yourself off of him to sit up.
“Wow,” he pants, reaching a hand up to brush white hair off of his slightly damp forehead, “that was amazing.”
“I know,” you reply slyly, leaning down to place a peck against his lips.
He chuckles, “So cocky already? And here I thought we could have a sweet post-fuck cuddle or something.”
You can’t stop yourself from giggling. “Oh yeah, in the comfort of the back seat of your car?”
“Aw, are you saying you don’t like my car?” he fakes a pout. “Guess you can just walk home then.”
You roll your eyes at his teasing. “You and I both know damn well I’m not walking home, and we aren’t going anywhere until you find my dress.”
“As you wish, sweetheart,” he smirks, sitting up and wrapping his arms tightly around you, placing a wet kiss on your cheek as you laugh and squirm in his lap.
–
For a while, things with Satoru are easy. You find yourself slipping into a rhythm with him: he calls you, he takes you out somewhere, you fuck, and he pays you. It feels nice to finally be able to afford to live again and not stress about your job hunt, and you start to genuinely enjoy the time you spend with him, looking forward to your weekly dates.
Between the times you see him, you also find yourselves communicating more often. He starts sending you pictures of himself trying on clothes in that all-too-familiar dressing room, asking for your opinions on what he should get so he can match you whenever you go out somewhere. You start video calling each other too, getting to see that stupid grin on his face whenever you pick up. Usually you just talk about your days or what shows you're watching, but you slowly start bringing him more into your life, telling him about your family and whatever gossip you hear about from your friends. A few times you’ve even invited him to come out with your group, but he always declines with a vague excuse. A part of you wants more, to have him in your life fully, but you also know that it would bring with it the complicated explanation of how you met and how your relationship first started.
You also begin to notice that you never hook up in your apartment or his - it’s always in restaurant bathrooms, his car, or the few times he’s gotten you a hotel room to stay with him overnight. You don’t particularly mind, since your apartment is still not the cleanest, although it’s certainly gotten better with your newfound free time, but it does seem odd to you. Whenever you try to bring it up, he just shrugs or brushes it off with a wave of his hand. “It’s too personal,” he always reasons, and you decide that you either have to drop it and accept how things are or push it and risk losing him.
Around six months after your first date, something changes. He drops you off at home after an amazing dinner at a new steakhouse and even better sex, this time in the private lounge of the restaurant. Inside your apartment you shower and head straight to bed. When you awake the next morning, you see two notifications on your phone: one from your bank informing you of a deposit of $6,000, and one from Gojo.
Gojo: Sorry about not paying you right away last night, I must have been a little distracted after our dinner and dessert 🥰 (the dessert was us having sex). I sent you a bit extra as compensation for any emotional damages I may have caused <3
You roll your eyes, a smile involuntarily forming on your lips as you read his message. Suddenly, it hits you: you didn’t even notice that he didn’t pay you. For months, that had been the routine, the expectation you both had set and agreed to. But last night, you didn’t notice. And maybe, you didn’t care?
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#q writes#dripping in gold#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#jjk#jjk fanfiction#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Sappy emo time? Sappy emo time. Or idk, sappy beauty time. I'm a bit burnt out of graduate studies atm and reminding myself a little of why I love science in the first place.
I very explicitly consider myself Atheist, not really even agnostic. But a huge part of that is because I think there's something a bit more beautiful and even a little holy in the way the universe exists on its own. Without something making it "tick".
There's no creator that carved those valleys, but the eons of the river running through it have left their mark in every pebble, every rock, and every living thing that takes refuge by them. Maybe there's something divine in that without a god.
There’s nothing that designed the animals around me and the environments they live in, but I still see how everything from the invertebrates in the mud to the megafauna around them lives in a weird, discordant harmony, an amalgamation of every erratic piece of behavior that any of them ever exhibited. Maybe there’s something a little holy in that without a congregation.
I've felt the skin of the ones I love, and the pleasure in the erotic, expressing themselves as an array of action potentials from sensory neurons so dazzlingly complex and chaotic that even studying every detail of them doesn't come close to bringing the human mind to understanding its own existence. Maybe there's something spiritual in that without a soul.
I've seen more that is sacred in a bustling street, with every person walking at a particular tempo, with their own hopes, dreams, and fears, than I ever have in the few religious ceremonies that I've participated in. Maybe there's something religious in that without a religion.
None of it is coordinated. You see chaos everywhere. You see pain everywhere. It's all an unoptimized, barely functioning mess. But its a mess of a million components, and by peeling back that veil one layer at a time
Science, particularly biology, lets me parse it out. Lets me engage in it. Let me pick apart each and every aspect of the living things around me and see them, witness them, even worship them in ways that I wouldn’t be capable of without it.
Is that a religion? Is that what religious people feel? I wouldn't know. I've never been religious, I was raised atheist. But maybe its something that keeps me on my feet and sparks my curiosity.
I'd also ask that you don't try to classify this as anything but what it is. I’m still atheist. The core of it is still empiricism and the lack of a god. It's just a kinder look at it, and maybe just a bit more of an attempt to see the beauty in the world after years of pessimism. The universe, at its core, is an incredible, gorgeous mess. Every negative emotion in my life has been a result of being blocked from seeing it like it really is.
Idk what I’m trying to do with this. Sorry if this sounds too much like the shitty cringe poetry book I wrote when I was 15.
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let me yap for a bit. i'm tired but have thoughts so i'm gonna let it out here.
i've been a member of dropout for only 5 months so far (been a fan longer but decided to buy a membership as a birthday gift to myself 💙 best gift ever) and i knew i wanted to get into d20 because i keep seeing out of context clips for it and i find them so funny even though i've never had any interest in dnd or any ttrpg content. so i started watching fantasy high because it was the first released season for d20 and because junior year was being posted/teased at the time. my thoughts were that by the time i finish the two seasons of fantasy high i could get to junior high in time for the finale. unfortunately, i did not expect to have my attention span challenged 💀
i loveee the characters (gorgug is so beloved to me) and i love the stories and the quests but sometimes the lore takes a serious turn for way too long than i can pay attention for and i zone out, so i'll be honest, there are parts of the story that i only piece together by context clues. but i enjoyed s1! and i'm still at s2. it's a bit harder to get through because there aren't any of the props or editing they had back then and it's a full livestream so i'm taking longer than i expected to get through the episodes. but i'm liking the story (though there are still some moments where i don't pay attention haha)
anyway! that really ruined my plan to watch junior high around the same time everyone else was watching it. prior to realizing junior year was ongoing, my plan was to watch the d20 shows in order of release, but, evidently, that isn't possible! i cannot pay attention despite wanting to 😭
i decided i'll finish fantasy high on my own time, put all the other d20 shows on hold because i cannot handle them together (i promise you, i don't think i fully understand the mechanics of the game yet). then watch one of the following once im done with junior year: dungeons and drag queen (cause i saw that clip of twyla and her thinking she's invisible), mentopolis (first d20 ep i watched when it was one free ep + i liked that clip of alex's character selling newspaper to a pretty aggressive man), starstruck odyssey (cause it sounds so cool), or a crown of candy (probably my first choice of the list, genuinely what i think would be my favorite based from clips i've seen of d20)
so tell me why d20 decided to do an action based story during a time in my life when i'm binging through action movies for no reason other than i felt like watching actions movies?! i had gone through the realization i didn't enjoy action movies as much if there's no comedy in it, so they really made sure to make an action comedy themed d20 show for me to enjoy (though i know brennan made it for izzy which makes this 100000x better). when i saw the trailer i kinda lost my mind, which was so weird because i genuinely haven't kept up with d20 shows except when i figured out which one was best to watch. then i made the decision to watch the first ep when it came out and i laughed so much 😭 it was the first d20 ep where i was genuinely devastated i finished an episode because it hit me that there isn't a next one until the next week. and then i was again devastated because it was only going to run for a couple of episodes 😭😭
but i am soooo obsessed with nsbu! paula is my everything and izzy plays her so wonderfully i am laughing as much as all the players when i'm listening to the show which is not good since i listen at work 😃 there's still very tiny moments where i get lost but i get swept up in the action again and it's soooo fcking cool and funny and i love all the characters so much oh my god im so happy there's another episode soon sjfhwknskks this really ruined my plans to watch everything in order, but i cannot hate it. i love this show so much.
i'm still watching sophomore year in between! almost donee !!! because i'm watching ally playing on nsbu & sophomore year at the same time, i really get the comments that are amused about the irony of ally being the one to keep the table on track. (actually wanted to watch d20 shows in order of release because i liked seeing someone's growth in learning a skill and wanted to see ally slowly get better at playing, but this is real good too.)
ok this went on too long i am Exhausted now. i really just wanted to say how much i love nsbu and that it's given me a whole new appreciation for d20 & other ttrpg (even though i think they mentioned they've done something different mechanics-wise)! if there's anyone who also wants to enjoy this veryyy long shows but get lost in the deep lore or the serious moments sometimes pls give nsbu a try because this is one of the most fun things i've watched in a while 💛
edit: also very cute i'm watching d20 live and they keep saying "when you're here, you're family" and i keep hearing nsbu saying "la familia" in my head
#dimension 20#d20 nsbu#nsbu#fantasy high#never stop blowing up#dropout tv#might delete#just really wanted to ramble a bit#i love nsbu so much
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Following the heart-wrenching posts of @red-riding-wood, @kittenonpluto and @aurorag98 I feel like I have to write this. By no means I have experienced traumatizing interactions with @mrkdvidal1989 aka Killian Vidal but this whole situation and what he did to girls here make me enraged.
First of all, I want to reassure all the beloved mutuals who have been reaching out to me or who have been worried about my well-being because they saw me interacting a few times with Killian. I am perfectly fine and I'm not much here this week because I have been working a lot.
As for my relationship with Killian... Well, we were barely talking to each other actually. I know I am bad at replying to my DMs but this is not the reason why I ghosted him -- I purposefully did so because, like many of you, the guy gave me the biggest red flags. We talked a few times, and he called me hot when he saw the gym pics/selfies I posted. He quickly suggested we meet together to go to the gym and watch horror movies during my stay in the UK and to this I replied positively while knowing I would never ever do so. Right from the start I suspected him to be a liar and I felt he had built up everything about his life. Also, I come from a military family with many relatives working in special units of the French Navy, and let me tell you something: I screamed at the thought of a former soldier (from the SAS!! lmao) spending all of his time writing reader-insert fanfic for a female audience and discussing with Cillian fangirls. I don't say it's impossible, but it's VERY unlikely.
To me, Killian was just an attention-seeking catfish I'd never meet and who I found both boring and childish. In my opinion, I thought he just wanted to have a small court around him to strut around, nothing more. I tried to search for info about him to warn people, I mean I even doubted he was a man... However, I found nothing plus he seemed to be IRL friends with a few mutuals here who actually chatted with him via phone so I didn't want to take the risk of spreading hate about someone just because of a gut feeling. Never in a million years, I would have imagined he was toying with girls from the Peaky Blinders community, collecting nudes, gaslighting/harassing them, breaking them into pieces, promising marriage, and going as far as to promise a life-saving medical treatment to a dear friend of mine. I am devastated by what I have read this morning, and "devasted" is not even powerful enough. Learning from Red that he talked about fucking me when we meet while we never talk about sex, never flirted or anything (we just small-talked once in a while lmao) might be a bit creepy but it's nothing compared to what he has done to girls here.
I am deeply sorry to all the people who have been hurt by his horrible actions and are now facing long-term consequences because of him, some of them being my close mutuals. I send positive vibes, love, and healing to every one of you who had to deal with this psycho. I know a lot of people have already said that but my DMs are opened if you need a safe place. The Peaky Blinders / Cillian Murphy community is a nice place, maybe the most welcoming place I've ever seen on the Internet but we should all keep in mind that it is not safe from ill-intentioned users and predators. Please stay safe and, for the victims, don't blame yourself. You haven't been naive nor stupid or anything. The only one to blame is the person behind Killian Vidal's persona, and for the evil you've done, I hope you'll get fucked with a chainsaw. Or just fucking rot in hell.
Shark.
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