#because i clearly can't help myself or change my ways on my own | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojisbbg · 4 months

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𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨

❝secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought; maybe i just wanna be yours.❞

♡ gojo satoru ♡

a/n: writing another gojo smut since the last one i wrote of him flopped. 😞💔

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

(also, a lot of you have been dming me and it's honestly so sweet, shoot me a message anytime :D)

content: gojo satoru x fem!reader, reader is extremely horny lol (hypersexual??), sassy gojo (he's a little dick sometimes), fluff, smut, best friends to lovers, not edited.

...

"well, you look like shit." gojo snorted, entering your dorm room as you woke up from your short-lived night's sleep. you let out a yawn, doing that weird whole body shaking thing before sitting up; rubbing your eyes to see your best friend more clearly.

he looked equally worse as you, dark eye bags, chapped lips, arms crossed over his chest along with a scowl painted on his lips.

"thanks, you don't look any less shitty yourself." you snickered, leaning against the headboard as you watched him roll his eyes before making his way towards your bed; sitting on the edge.

"i wonder why." the white haired male grumbled, a small glare thrown at your direction.

"hmm? i don't know what you're talking about." you innocently batted your eyes, making him narrow his eyes.

"i would've been done studying by two in the morning if you would've stopped blowing up my phone every two seconds about how roughly fucking me would help you memorize the formulas better." gojo complained, making you bite back a laugh.

"well, you could've just go on dnd or block me." you shrugged, indirectly calling him a dumbass.

"you threatened to kill yourself if i did that."

"oh."

"anyways, what time did you stop studying and hit the lights?" gojo changed the topic, examining your tired face.

"i don't know, i think five-thirty?" you tried to think hard, but, recently all these nights where you pulled all-nighters have been a blur.

"not bad, i slept around that time too." he sighed, rubbing his temples while wincing in pain.

"hurts?" you asked, hearing him hum in response.

"yeah, i took painkillers before getting here but it's not really helping." gojo groaned before looking at you through half-lidded eyes, his words making you pout.

"well, i can't really help you with that. but, i can offer you some mind-blowing head instead." a smirk tugged on your lips as you threw a wink at him, making gojo look at you with an unamused look.

"this fucking early in the morning too? god, it's barely seven in the morning." he stared at you in disbelief, making you chuckle.

"jeez, i'm kidding. no need to act like you got a stick up your ass all the time." you stretched, while gojo scrolled on his phone through social media along with his emails.

"you gonna do final revisions on the way to campus?" he asked you with curious eyes, making you let out a hysteric laugh.

"fuck no, i stayed up till five something reading and writing notes until my fingers went numb. i couldn't even fuck myself to sleep because of the pain." you casually answered, making gojo's nose scrunch up in distaste.

"fucking hell, y/n, you're filthy." gojo commented, making you laugh before you crawled towards him, sitting on his lap as you pinched his cheeks.

"but you love me." you cooed, squishing his cheeks into a pout as he let you. gojo's arms instinctively were wrapped around your waist to make sure that you don't fall and crack your head open.

"unfortunately." he sighed.

this is how it has always been for you and gojo, his inevitable torture starting from when you both were in diapers. both of your families were extremely close, your mother being high school besties with his mom.

of course, both women decided to continue this legacy by making sure that their children grew up together. so, you've been stuck to gojo by the hip.

gojo's family was extremely wealthy, like filthy rich. his father owned one of the biggest company in all of japan. your parents, however, owned a humble sushi place in kyoto.

nonetheless, gojo never looked down on you or treated you like you were some ant that could be stepped on. he was like your protective shadow, scolding you when you acted out, being there to comfort you when you were down or struggling, and he dealt with all your stupid jokes.

as you both grew older, puberty hit like a truck.

no, not even a truck; like a fucking tsunami.

your body matured and your hormones went absolutely wild. you don't know what the hell happened, but you craved for sexual pleasure so often. after discovering the magic of masturbation, you did the act almost religiously.

your jokes were pure filth, full of suggestive language. it was like the only thing that circled your mind was dick, dick, dick, sex, sex, cum, cum.

no, quite literally.

you were horny almost 24/7 for some unknown reason.

oh, and you were still a virgin. yeah, shocking.

your situation wasn't helped after realizing how fucking hot your best friend became either. gojo began to hit the gym, basically turning into a gym rat in high school as you accompanied him after school every day before heading home together. he became beefy and so fucking tall, nearly 6'4ft.

no wonder why girls in high school chased him like he was the jackpot. well, they still do now that you both attended college.

though he was a pretty face, gojo was smart as hell. well, the both of you are; it was kinda like a mutual academic rivalry you both had. of course, it was all for shits and giggles.

he was a math nerd, meanwhile, you hated the subject with a burning passion. you liked english better, as your reading and writing skills were beyond talented. so, you and gojo made a fair deal, he'd help you with your math homework while you'd help him with english.

sometimes you both would do each others homework when it was time to cram study for other subjects. the subject you both have a common liking towards was science.

people sometimes mistakenly thought that you and the snow haired male were a couple. the truth is, you both were just super close best friends. gojo got used to your dirty jokes and remarks, no longer affected by them, as it was like common language for him now.

"can you eat the damn banana like a normal person for once?"

"why? you wish i was deepthroating the banana in your pants instead?"

"y/n, which outfit looks better? the first or second one?"

"neither, stay naked and let me smash, pleaseee."

"oh my god!! you look so handsome satoru, i'm literally gonna cum on your face."

"look at you wearing that tight black compression shirt, you slut!"

"put on a shirt and cover those tits before i suck them, toru!"

"y/n, i'm at that one plushie store downtown and there's like a bunch of sanrio shit. imma get that one hello kitty headband you were looking last night for you."

"oh my god?? hello, what the fuck, i'm literally gonna let you say hello to my kitty, toru. ugh, i love you so much."

"do you need help on doing your sit-ups? i could hold your legs down."

"yeah, but don't come too close or else my pussy is gonna start pulsating your name in morse code."

"i don't know what to get you for christmas, y/n."

"how about you lathered up in coconut oil and wrapped in a cute pink coqutte bow under my tree?"

"you horny fuck, oh my god."

"you idiot! i don't care if they taste bad, i told you to suck on those cough drops to help you soothe your throat."

"but i'd rather suck your balls, satoru."

"for the love of god, seek therapy."

"sex therapy with you?"

"you gonna stay on me forever or get ready for class before we're late for our last final exam?" gojo playfully pinched your side, making you yelp as you rubbed the site.

"jerk, i was thinking about how this is the perfect position for me to cockwarm you." you said, earning a flick to the forehead.

"you got ten minutes or i'm leaving you." gojo ignored your whines, standing up with you still clung onto him like a koala.

"satoruuu, i don't wanna go! they're gonna brutally torture me for the next hour based on organic chemistry." you dramatically cried into the crook of his neck.

"the school is gonna kick us out if we don't take this exam, y/n. it's worth like sixty-five percent of our final semester grade. besides, we both studied hard for this. you'll be okay." he rubbed your back comfortingly, making you pull away with a huff.

"you have enough money to buy the entire university, satoru."

"my dad is gonna burn me alive, y/n."

"okay, fine! i have a better solution. how about we start an onlyfans? you know, we both could occasionally do solos or you know... fuck each other too! like-"

"no."

"satoru!! hear me out." you tried to reason, but gojo knew it was all bluffing and you just wanted to stall. so, he forced you down from his hold, making you stand on your feet as you looked at him with a glare.

"ten minutes, you big baby." gojo said before leaving your room.

---

it felt like you just survived a war, coming back home with nothing but trauma written all over your face.

what the fuck was that exam?

all those hours of studying this entire week, sleepless nights, missing meals... all gone to waste?

you punched in your lock combination on the small keypad outside your dorm room, hearing the small beep as the door unlocked. with a twist of the knob, you opened the door and entered. you saw the familiar pair of shoes by your door, not paying much mind to it as you kicked your own shoes off to the side.

you saw gojo leisurely laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

"when did you get here? the exam didn't start until eight." you asked, your voice barely audible from how exhausted you were, physically and mentally.

"like fifteen minutes ago. my proctor started the exam like twenty minutes early by accident, since the clock in that room was broken." he explained, making you nod your head as you walked to the couch.

you tapped his long legs, ushering him to bend them so that you had space to sit. a moment of silence graced the atmosphere, neither of you uttering a single word.

"it was shit." you both blurted out at the same time, looking at each other with equal shock.

"you too?!"

"fuck yeah. i mean like, what kind of formulas were those?!"

"i know right?? it was like another language, completely different from the review packets."

"man, i should've just given up and fucked myself to sleep. at least, i'd get some good sleep."

"bro, you and fucking yourself. one night without having your fingers inside your pussy won't kill you." gojo sat up, shaking his head in disbelief that your concern was something so ridiculous.

"uh, yeah it will since you're clearly depriving me of your dick." you retorted, making him roll his eyes.

"whatever. what are you gonna do now?" he asked, leaning towards the small table to grab his water bottle, opening it to take a sip.

"have rough kinky sex with you." the words casually flew out of your mouth, catching the snowy haired male off guard as he choked on his water.

"i'm being serious!" he said in between his coughs, watching your laugh at his reaction.

"i'm gonna sleep, what else, idiot? i need my brain to rest and recover from all that trauma. besides, we do this every time when it's finals season, satoru. you got amnesia or something?" you joked, patting his back to help him stop coughing.

"sorry, my brain is malfunctioning. my dorm or yours?" gojo asked after clearing his throat.

"since you're already here, let's sleep in mine. i'm gonna go change into something more comfortable. if you wanna change out of those, there's a spare pair of your sweats and t-shirt in my closet." you informed him, making him nod as you both got up and headed towards your bedroom. you grabbed your clothes and headed into the bathroom to freshen up and change into them, giving up your bedroom to have gojo change.

after finishing up, you walked back into your room, seeing gojo already inside your bed; looking like he was half dead. you snorted, walking over to the other side before placing yourself on the empty spot.

"don't hog the blanket, or else i'll kill you."

"no promises."

with that being said, you scooted closer to gojo, in need of feeling his body's warmth against you. it wasn't anything new, this was sort of a tradition you guys did after finals week was over. you both slept for hours together.

you threw your legs over his waist, tugging onto gojo's shirt as he laid down while facing the ceiling.

"hold me, 'toru." you mumbled, your movements slightly bringing him back to life. gojo groaned in annoyance, turning his body to now face you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"better?" he spoke into your hair, which was slightly tickling his nose. you nodded your head, your cheek pressed against his chest as you inhaled his scent.

gojo always smelled sweet with a mixture of expensive cologne.

a few minutes passed, and you could hear his heartbeat slowing down, indicating that he was falling asleep.

"hey, you awake?" you poked his cheek, making his eyebrows furrow.

"no." gojo murmured, eyes still closed.

"you know, satoru, if you jerk off before going to sleep then your sleep is gonna be like ten times better. science says it helps release stress and improves blood flow. if you want, i can jerk-"

"go to sleep, y/n." gojo sternly cut you off along with your wonderful visual of how you'd jerk him off, giving your thigh a light smack before resting his hand there. you let out a small whine, playfully biting his cheek.

you saw gojo's eyes scrunch, making you sigh.

"sorry." you mumbled to yourself, as gojo most likely didn't hear you since it seemed like he was already asleep. you pressed a small kiss on the spot you bit before snuggling into his neck. your arms and legs tightly wrapped around his body, fingers finding home between his snowy locks.

"it's okay." was the last thing you heard before you were no longer able to resist sleep.

---

gojo stirred in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words as he felt the constant buzzing noise vibrating on the bed. he painfully opened one eye, half-lidded, as he realized you were still tightly tucked way in his arms. you snored softly against his chest, lips pouted, making him tempted to kiss you.

the snow hair male tried to find the source of the buzzing sound, grabbing a hold of his phone only to see that his phone was dead. gojo's eyebrows furrowed in confusion 'cause then what the hell is it?

his eyes landed on your phone which was shoved under your back and gojo momentarily saw your screen flicker open. bingo! it was your phone that was annoyingly going off.

gojo grabbed your phone, deciding to silence it for you, even though you were passed out like you're dead; so you most likely didn't hear it anyways. but, he was a light sleeper and your stupid phone was keeping him awake.

as the screen flickered open again, gojo saw that you had well over a thousand notifications. his eyes widened, you were never the type to be social. of course, you weren't a loner or something of that sort; you had friends whom were also gojo's friends.

but, the both of you kept your friend groups small and restricted so avoid any unnecessary drama.

"tumblr?" gojo mumbled under his breath, knowing that it wasn't his place to snoop around. but, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. the notifications were all indicating that people hearted a post you made along with commenting hearts and all that shit.

a weird feeling bubbled inside him, something in between the lines of possessiveness and anger.

so, he decided to investigate, knowing that it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. it was convenient that his face id was added onto your phone, just like how yours was added onto his. after unlocking your phone, he found the tumblr app.

at first, gojo thought it was a dating website as it sounded very familiar to tinder. but, he would soon be proven wrong as he saw a feed full of different blogs and writing.

gojo's curiosity ran wild, silently exploring the new waters he was introduced to. he clicked on your notifications list which was flooded with heart and comments.

not any comments, but horrendously down bad thirsty comments.

sanemiswh0re: ahhh author!! i'm literally running laps, this was so good!

localbbg: this was pure filth and i loved every word of it!

cherrytones: hello?? i need a toru in my life! a tear just ran down my thigh.

yourhotgf: bro wtf, white haired men 🔛🔝 of me!! toru with that big dick energy?? lord, i need him in me so bad.

gojo's eyes widened at the comments while he scrolled. toru? it's a silly little nickname you've been calling him ever since you were kids. since when did you write stories? and... they were about him too?

he clicked on one of the comments which led him to said story, making him smirk as the naughty photo used in the border was enough to give him an idea. gojo settled in bed comfortable, with you still wrapped around him, without a fucking clue of what that menace just found.

"jesus.." gojo breathed out in shock, reading the pure filth you wrote of him and the 'y/n' used in the story, but he assumed that she was based off of you. it was no use denying it, the male character toru resembled too much of his personality and the female character y/n resembled you a lot too.

he wasn't even halfway done yet, but it seemed like you wrote an entire hour long porn script. your writing was so descriptive, describing the sex scenes in such a pornographic yet sensual way. gojo would be lying if he said it didn't make his heart flutter and cock throb.

were your fantasies of him always this dirty?

did you always want to be manhandled by him? praised and teased? being slutted out? a mix of a gentle dom that was a little witty?

god, where did you hide all of this?

of course, you were never ashamed of your vulgar comments and jokes that you threw at him. but, gojo always brushed them off because he grew accustomed to it. however, this was completely new to him.

your smutty writing of him and you made him feel hot and bothered. he knew you were dirty, but not this dirty.

you began to wiggle in his arms, stirring awake as you made a few groaning sounds.

"hmm, time... toru." you groggily asked, eyes still shut as you waited for a response.

"it's 8:23." gojo replied, still not bothered to place your phone back to where he found it. instead, he continued to surf through your dashboard to which he found more of these smut of him.

"why are you awake so soon?" you yawned, cracking an eye open only to wince from the sudden light exposure.

"had a leg cramp." he lied, making you grimace.

"ouch, you should've waken me up then." you commented, your hand find his as you played with his really long and thick fingers. it was a habit to toy around with the rings that wrapped around them.

"you looked too peaceful to disturb. besides, i found something to read in order to kill time." gojo boldly said, making you hum in amusement.

"oh? and since when have you been a bookworm? please, do enlighten me." you teased, making him chuckle. a smirk etched onto his lips, trying to collect his words before attempting to send you into cardiac arrest.

"it's actually very interesting, i have to say. i never thought i'd be into erotic romance." he started out, and the very unexpected words leaving his mouth made your heart pound inside your chest.

he was reading that shit besides you and you had no clue?

"jeez, and you call me a horny dog?" you scoffed.

"well, maybe it's torusluvr who's the real horny dog." he dropped the bomb, making your heart stop it's usual cardiac rhythm as you heard your tumblr account's username. you shot awake from bed, eyes meeting his playful ones as the color drained from you face.

"what? how did you-" you were a stammering and confusing mess, searching for your phone until you looked at his hand.

"looking for this?" gojo waved your phone, the screen on full blast lighting and filled with words of nothing but sex.

"give me my phone back, satoru." you panicked, trying to grab your phone from his grasp. but, gojo's body structure was stronger, bulkier and taller than yours; so you struggled.

however, gojo took your struggle as a form of amusement. he noticed how your face was covered in a blush from being caught red-handed, movements so shaky and alarmed.

it was kind of cute.

"nuh uh." gojo suddenly tossed your phone to the side before grabbing both of your hands. a yelp escaped from your lips as you were pinned to the bed in mere seconds, gojo's body hovering above yours as he slotted himself between your legs.

you gulped nervously, your cheeks growing warmer as it suddenly felt too embarrassing to look at gojo in the eyes. you were a mere ant compared to his body, his stature standing at six feet four inches, and his body was beefy as hell yet so soft to the touch.

"does this turn you on, y/n? hm? being manhandled by someone who's twice your size." the white haired male teased, his husky voice due to his previous slumber sent heat waves to your cunt.

"satoru-"

your words were cut short as gojo leaned closer to you, grinding his hard on against your throbbing cunt, making you gasp.

"satoru? what happened to toru?" he whispered, shoving his face into the crook of your neck, taking a minute to inhale the scent of your perfume which has been permanently engraved into his senses and brain.

"stop joking around, we're friends... best friends." you tried to reason, watching his eyes darken.

"oh? and do all best friends write porn worthy shit about each other?" gojo snickered, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. your throat went dry, words getting stuck.

"i guess we can't be best friends anymore 'cause i wanna recreate all that shit that i read— with you." a smirk tugged on his lips and before you could even process what the hell was about to go down, you let out a small whimper after feeling him bite down on your collarbone before peppering soft kisses on the abused skin afterwards.

"toru... please." you desperately begged, needing some kind of friction between you and him to relieve the ache between your thighs.

"i bet if i touch that cute little pussy of yours, my fingers are gonna come out glossy wet, yeah? should we test it out, y/n?" gojo continued to pester you with his teasing remarks, making you blush further at them as you were to embarrassed to have him find out about the wet patch that was created on your panties by now.

you shyly nodded but this wasn't enough for gojo to take for an answer. you felt a small pinch on the plush flesh of your thigh, making you wince.

"use your words, y/n. you didn't shy out when you were right all that stuff about me and you." he scoffed, making you whine in embarrassment.

"touch me, toru... i need to feel your fingers." your voice was meek, throat getting dry as you desperately bucked your hips upwards. gojo cocked an eyebrow, watching your body squirm underneath him in amusement.

"so needy." gojo laughed, rubbing your thighs before giving it a small squeeze. your body grew warm and your face flushed red from his touch. you've fantasized about this moment for so long and now it was finally happening.

gojo's fingers hooked on the waistband of your shorts about to pull them down until your hand came down to stop his movement. he was a little confused and felt a little guilty because he didn't know if he was moving too fast for you or made you uncomfortable.

"you okay?" gojo asked with genuine concern washed on his face. you bit down on your lips, averting your gaze from his.

"i'm not wearing any lace and my panties aren't even matching with my bra." you said in a little panicked voice. gojo was a handsome jerk and this most definitely wasn't his first time sleeping with someone.

you saw his hookups, they were always the prettiest of the prettiest girls. they looked like polished gems, wearing fancy feminine clothes in contrast with your hobo looking outfits, hair and nails were always done... they were like runway models.

you couldn't help but feel a little insecure. you knew that satoru was different, but that small part of you still felt like perhaps this was still some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on you.

the books you read always gave the female lead a perfect body free of blemishes, wearing expensive and sexy matching undergarments and so much more.

while here you are with unmatched undergarments, a completely inexperienced virgin who only knew how to shamelessly masturbate to find relief while fantasizing about her best friend.

"hm? so what? they're coming off anyways, princess." gojo reasurred you with a soft smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, indulging in the sweet taste of his lips. he used the strawberry carmex lipbalm religiously.

the kiss was slightly messy, as you were still a little inexperienced in this area as well. you can't remember the last time you last made out with someone, so your teeth clashed with his here and there. but, gojo never complained, he drank in your mistakes and guided you with the fluid movement of his lips and tongue.

the white haired male gave your bottom lip a gentle bite, one of his hands grabbing your jaw to keep your head in place while his other hand pulled down your shorts. gojo threw the annoying article of clothing on the floor, pulling away as a string of saliva connected the both of you.

he looked down and if it was possible to get any harder than how hard he was right now, gojo thought he might've exploded already. you laid under him like a pretty gem, face flushed and your lips swollen as you panted a little from the breathless kiss. a small grin tugged on his lips, the hand grabbing onto your jaw now coming to stroke your cheek.

"just relax for me, princess. let me show you just how much better reality is than your little stories." gojo whispered, leaving open mouthed kisses on your jaw that were leading south until he was peppering kisses on your neck.

you decided to take a leap and pull your t-shirt off, catching gojo off-guard by your sudden eagerness. a genuine smile was forming on his lips at how adorable you looked. your cotton panties had a strawberry pattern on it with a tiny pink bow on the front and your bra was a solid blue color; both of which satoru is well familiar with as the two of you did your laundry together.

"stop staring." you embarrassingly pouted, making him let a raspy chuckle escape his lips.

"can't help it when my best friend is this cute." he teased, pinching your cheek which made you yelp.

"shut up and go back to what you were doing." you nagged, making him cock an eyebrow.

"oh? eager are we?" gojo hummed, skillful fingers whisking your bra off in a matter of seconds, your tits spilling out of the cups that held them. you averted your gaze from him after seeing how gojo's eyes widened, feeling your face grow hotter by the second.

"look at me, y/n."

"no."

"look at me."

"eat my ass."

"i will."

"satoru!" you gasped, finally looking at him as his response caught your attention. however, gojo didn't pay too much mind to it as brought a hand down to fondle your tits, watching how you bit your lips at the sudden squeeze.

"don't look away from me, baby. you're such a pretty girl, so let me admire you for a bit, yeah?" with that being said, gojo latched his lips onto on of your nipples, making you whimper.

"shit.." you moaned, feeling the tip of his tongue flicking the sensitive swollen bud. he peered up to meet your eyes, looking so fucking pretty even with a mouthful of your tits. his stupidly charming blue eyes staring into your half-lidded eyes. you brought to stroke his cheek as he continued to suckle on your nipple.

"pretty boy." you cooed, feeling his hand kneed the plush flesh of your thighs before giving it a little spank, making you squeal. being the tease he is, he gave your nipple a gentle bite before releasing the bud with a 'pop' sound.

"you wore my favorite panties." gojo complimented, making you scoff.

"stop saying that to make me feel better about my mix-matched undergarments." you rolled your eyes.

"you could think that my words are lies but it still won't change the fact that i jerked off with those same panties." he shamelessly shrugged after revealing such a dirty secret, making your mouth gape open.

"huh?!" you were at a loss for words, but, for some reason it made your pussy throb at the thought of your hot best friend masturbating to the thought of you.

even if he used your panties.

"mhm... now, let's put them to some use again." gojo pulled down his shorts along with his boxers, completely disposing them to the floor to meet with the rest of your clothes.

your eyes shamelessly came in contact with his cock and you couldn't help but harshly gulp. gojo was fucking hung, not lacking in any area. his dick had to be at least a good seven or eight inches long, a single vein running on the side of the shaft, with a pretty blush pink tip that was angrily leaking with precum.

"feel a little overwhelmed, princess?" gojo sensed your shock, and you truthfully nodded.

"y-yeah... i never-"

"wait, you're still a virgin, y/n?" he genuinely asked and you thinned your lips before nodding. gojo gasped, slapping a hand on his mouth.

"what the fuck? and you wrote all of that with no experience??" gojo was truly amazed as you shyed away from his eyes.

"it's okay if you don't wanna, you know." your throat went dry, a little disappointed that it would end this way.

"fuck you? of course i wanna fuck you, princess. but, are you sure you're okay with me taking your virginity? we could stop and forget about it if you want to, no pressure." he asked in a soft tone, rubbing your hips in a comforting way.

"yeah, i want you to take it, toru. i trust you." you gave him a girlish smile, making his heart jump.

"okay then. i'm gonna prep you real good to make sure it doesn't hurt as much." gojo pressed a tender kiss on your lips. he stroked his cock a few times as a husky groan left his lips, making him sound so sexy.

gojo hooked two fingers to the side of your panties and lifted them up before sliding his cock inside the fabric. you moaned at the feeling of his warm and hard cock sliding past your folds, his wet tip nudging and coating your clit with his precum.

"fuck. you're so wet, baby." gojo breathed out, leaning down to suck on your tits as he continued to thurst his hips back and forth between your folds. your juices lubricated his cock and the stimulation provided to your clit with every nudge of his tip made your eyes roll back.

"oh my god... just like that, toru. please!" you begged, your hand finding purchase to his snowy locks as you pushed his face further to your tits, as he licked and sucked your nipples. gojo's hips never faltered, continuing to glide his thick dick between your slit, feeling your clit throb.

you felt your orgasm building up, making your breath hitch as you whimpered. after a few more thrusts, you gushed on top of his cock as gojo cummed on your pussy, messily spreading both of your juices on your cunt.

gojo pulled his cock out of your panties, seeing how there's a wet patch on the front of your panties. he used his index finger to outline and rub your clit, making you shake from the overstimulation.

"w-wait." you tried to catch your breath but gojo wasn't gonna let you rest until you cummed on his tongue and fingers.

"nope, gotta stretch you out now, princess." he pinched your clit, making your thighs shut close from the sudden impact.

"you little shit." you threw him a playful glare, to which he only stuck his tongue out and use his strong hands to pry your legs open. this time, gojo wasn't going to be so patient. he pulled your panties down and threw them somewhere, his cerulean eyes fixated on your cunt.

"fucking hell." gojo swore under his breath and you couldn't help but think negatively.

"what's wrong?" you asked a little worried.

"i'm trying to hard to not cum again from just looking at this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, watching how it glistened with both your and his cum from the previous pantie fucking session.

you supported yourself on your elbow as your other free hand pulled his head forward, crashing your lips onto his. you kissed him with need, sucking on his bottom lip before giving it a bite. gojo began to slide his middle finger between your wet folds, making sure to rub your clit at a fast pace.

you moaned into his mouth, which gojo happily drank as he continued to give the neglected bud some attention. his finger stopped at your hole, experimentally shoving it in a little bit. you winced at the sudden intrusion as gojo's fingers were longer and thicker than yours.

"shh.. it's okay." gojo assured, pecking your lips as he entered his finger. your walls clamped down on his finger and gojo couldn't help but groan at how fucking tight you were.

"shit, gonna have to stretch you out quite a bit if this sweet pussy of yours is gonna take my cock. don't wanna rip you apart, baby." gojo chuckled, kissing your cheek before sliding his body down until his face was directly above your wet aching cunt.

gojo licked a fat stripe up your cunt, eyes rolling back at the taste of your pussy. you tasted so fucking good and he knew he'd get addicted. he slurped up all your juices, his tongue circling your clit before flicking it. you gripped onto his hair, pulling his mouth closer to your needy pussy as you basically humped his face.

gojo decided to add in another finger and a guttural moan escaped your throat, feeling him scissoring in the two thick digits in and out of your hole. your legs began to shake at the amount of pleasure you were getting from being tongue and finger fucked at the same time.

"fuck! augh~ i-i'm gonna c-cum!" you moaned as you felt the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hole enclosing around his fingers as you creamed on gojo's fingers.

"that's it, there you go, princess." gojo praised, drinking up all your cum and licking you clean. your breathing was irregular as you were trying to calm down your erratic heartbeat.

gojo looked up at you with a slutty expression, his lips glossy with his own spit and your cum along with his chin dripping with your arousal.

"think you ready for me, baby?" he teased, placing a playful kiss on your clit before slotting himself between your legs. gojo's hard cock rest on your inner thigh, his eyes giving you a glimmer full of tease and play.

"i think that if you don't put your dick inside me within the next minute i'll kill myself." you dramatically responded, clearly not in the right state of mind due to pleasure fogging up your mind. gojo laughed at your words, leaning in to kiss you.

you could taste yourself on your tongue, but that did not bother you as much as having your throbbing hole empty.

"toruuu~ pleaseee." you whined, bucking your hip up to his in an attempt to get some friction to relieve the ache between your legs.

"my pretty girl needs something, hm?" he continued his banter, making you pout. you trailed your hand down and grabbed his cock, giving it a few pumps and watched your best friend crumble from your touch.

"need your cock inside me, toru." you said in a sultry voice, using the tip of dick to rub up and down your slit, parting your folds. gojo decided to stop being mean and help you, grabbing the base of his thick cock and rubbing it on your dripping wet cunt.

his tip now rested on top of your hole, his eyes looking up at you for further movement. you nodded your head, hands going to the side to grab the sheets.

"it's gonna really hurt bad for a minute but i promise it'll get better. i'll go slow and gentle, 'kay?" gojo offered you a soft smile as reassurance, to which you nodded, fully trusting him to take care of you.

"can you come closer." you asked in a meek voice, and gojo nodded as he leaned forwards so that you could wrap your arm around his neck.

gojo pushed in the fat bulbous tip of his cock, the stretch of something fatter and bigger than his and your fingers immediately burned.

you winced in pain, making him apologize and you told him that it was okay. gojo stayed like that for a little before thrusting the tip of his dick in and out of you to help you get a little used to the intrusion. it took every fiber of his body to have enough self-control to not shove the entire length of his cock inside your cunt and use it like his personal cocksleeve.

"look at me, y/n." he breathed out, making you open your eyes as your eyes were a little glossy. gojo never fucked a virgin before, and you were his best friend, so he wanted to be extra careful to not hurt you.

"i'm sorry." gojo quickly blurted out and you were confused for a quick minute, until you let out a pained cry as he shoved his entire cock inside your pussy inch by inch. he quickly latched his lips onto yours, swallowing your cries as his thumb came down to play with your clit.

your nails dug into his flesh, tears streaming down your face as the stretch of his cock was so painful.

"hurts so much, toru." you sniffled, mumbling your words on his lips.

"it would've hurt more if i went inch by inch slowly. you'll be okay, baby, trust me." with that being said, gojo slid his cock fully out, your pussy missing the feeling of being full. you mewled at the loss of contact, until he slammed his hips back into you, shoving his cock in one go.

within each slow thrust that he gave you, the pain faded away and you were soon drowning in pleasure. your cunt clamped down on his cock, the delicious feeling of the vein on his cock grazing against your wet walls made your eyes roll back.

"such a sweet pussy, fuck you're so tight." he grunted, grabbing your hips in place as his pace was unforgiving. his cock curved and kissed every inch inside your cunt, making you grip the sheets for dear life.

"satoru! i- fuck. wait, it's too much!" you cried out, your vision becoming blurry and you couldn't tell if it was from the tears that were forming due to overstimulation or from exhaustion.

maybe both.

"you could take it, princess. this pussy was fucking made for my cock." gojo moaned, grabbing the back of your knees before pushing them back to your head; placing you in a mating press.

this new angle gave him a better view of your tits bouncing with every thrust along with every ripple of your ass that came in contact with his heavy balls. your free hand came down to play with your clit as the other hand grabbed the back of his head to give him a sloppy kiss.

"feels so good, toru." you slurred, as his cock continued to kiss your cervix, bullying it's way in and out of your aching hole.

"gonna fuck you so dumb, till you become mine." he grinned against your skin, biting down as he placed a slap on your pussy, making you let out a cry.

"please, please, please! i-i'm gonna cum!" you stuttered out, feeling his balls hit against your ass while he continued to fuck your hole. your cunt began to convulse around his cock.

with another thrust, another rub on your clit and a gentle kiss on the side of your neck, you let out the most desperate and needy moan known to mankind as you began to cum around his cock.

gojo began to chase his own high, satisfied with the ring of white cream forming at the base of his cock, fucking you into over stimulation.

"f-fuck, gonna cum. god, i-i love you, y/n." he choked on his words, fingers clawing onto your hips as he gave you one final thrust before release thick wads of hot cum inside your hole.

gojo fell on top of your body with his arms supporting him a little to make sure he doesn't crush you with his weight, cock still lodged inside your wet cunt that was now filled with both his and your cum.

"i... fuck, i love you too, satoru." you whispered, swallowing thickly from how dry your throat was. you stroked his snowy white hair, the both of you breathing heavily as gojo continued to lazily fuck his cum into you.

"you know, i didn't expect you to be a virgin from how horny you are." gojo giggled, making you hum. he rested his head on your chest, playfully taking your nipple in his mouth as he sucked on it.

"well, i guess i got the real life experience now." you gave him a cheeky smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"better than your little books?" his voice was a little muffled due to having a mouthful of your boobs in his mouth.

"mhm, i should write about it." you thought out loud, catching his attention.

"if you have writers block anytime else, just let me know and i'll help you. that's the least i could do for my dear girlfriend." gojo smirked, making you blush at the last word.

"oh? and since when have you declared that you're my boyfriend?" you joked, making him bite your nipple.

"since forever. you're mine now anyways." he pouted like a child, making you laugh.

"fine, so are you finally gonna let me stack donuts on top of it?" you said, making him look at you with a look of disbelief.

"maybe."

803 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (20/23)

Chapter summary: You and Wanda go back for another couple's therapy session where Wanda reveals her abandonment issues; Afterwards, you and Wanda arrive in LA for Christmas with her family.

Chapter word count: 6.5k+ | Tags: Therapy, Healing, Comfort | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Christmas part one. Can't believe there's only three more chapters and the epilogue. Enjoy!

AO3 | Masterlist

Next part: Twenty-One

Twenty

As the second therapy session with Calliope gets underway, she opens with a warm smile, “Let's start with the assignment from our previous meeting. Were you both able to write and share your letters?”

You and Wanda share a quick glance before you respond with an enthusiastic, “Yeah, we did.”

You both can't help but beam, a sense of accomplishment clearly reflected in your faces.

“That's great to hear,” Calliope says warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Tell me about the experience. How did it feel to be so open with each other?”

You glance at Wanda, who gives a small nod to signal she'll take the lead. She inhales deeply, her gaze momentarily darting to you before returning to Calliope.

“It was, you know... really special. Romantic,” Wanda confesses, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks as she feels a bit silly, like a teenager raving about a crush. Her fingers absentmindedly twirl in loops on her knees. “I mean, it wasn't a promise or anything, but being able to understand just how deeply she cares for me... it made my heart feel full, in the best way.”

Calliope's attention then shifts to you, her body language encouraging and patient as she waits for you to share your thoughts.

After a thoughtful pause, you answer, “It felt like unshackling myself. Putting all my feelings into words, it was like shedding some weight off my shoulders. And reading what Wanda wrote…” You pause, turning to look at Wanda, a gentle warmth lighting up your eyes. “It... It grounded me. Reminded me of why we are doing this, why we're trying to fix things in the middle of all this confusion... It's because we love each other.”

“I must say, I'm incredibly moved by the strides you both have made,” Calliope says. She then subtly changes her posture, turning to focus more directly on Wanda.

“Now that we've started delving into Y/N's trust issues, it's only fair that we address your feelings too, Wanda. So, let's talk about your trust in Y/N. How are you feeling about that?” Calliope asks.

A flicker of surprise crosses your face, reflected in Wanda's as well. The room falls into a hushed pause as Wanda processes the question, her brow creased in deep thought. The possibility of Wanda having her own trust issues hadn't even crossed your mind. You've been so focused on your own sense of betrayal and the need to rebuild trust, you didn't consider that she might be struggling too. As you wait for Wanda's response, a knot tightens in your stomach, making you realize just how much her answer matters to you.

For a brief moment, Wanda looks at Calliope with a blank expression. “I... I'm not quite certain how to answer that,” she concedes, her fingers subconsciously toying with a loose thread on her sleeve.

You find yourself hanging onto her every word.

“Does it count that I was jealous of Yelena even before she and Y/N got together? There was an entire history between Y/N and Yelena that we never really discussed... that I was never really a part of.”

“Lack of trust can often sow seeds of insecurity, Wanda, which in turn leads to feelings of jealousy. Trust doesn't only involve a faith in someone's actions, but also in their words and their shared history.” Calliope explains, and then she turns to you. “Y/N, this is something you need to take into account. It's not only about how your actions impact Wanda's trust in you, but also how much you're willing to share and be transparent about your past and your feelings.”

You swallow dryly and nod at Calliope’s words. It's not easy, admitting this. But it's something you realize you need to say.

“Wanda, I wasn't being completely truthful with you back then,” you start, feeling the weight of the words as they leave your lips. “When I told you I didn't think it was worth mentioning… The truth is, it made me uncomfortable to talk about her.”

Wanda's brow furrows slightly, but she doesn't interrupt. You take that as a sign to continue.

“Yelena was... she was important to me. At some point, before you and I met, I thought she was the one. And when that love was ripped away from me because she moved to another country, it hurt. It hurt a lot. So when we reconnected while we were married, it was... it was complicated. Especially because you never knew about her. I didn't know how to bring it up. How to explain it to you. So I avoided it. And I realize now that was wrong. It wasn't fair to you.” you say.

Wanda studies you intently, her hands clasped tightly together as she works up the courage to voice her question. “And what...what did you feel when you saw Yelena again that time after all those years?”

You take a deep breath. This honestly thing is harder than you thought.

“When I saw Yelena again,” you begin, your voice low and steady. “It was like being transported back in time. There was this rush of old memories, some good, some painful. It was a little unsettling.”

“Did you… realize anything?” Wanda asks slowly. She doesn't spell it out, but you can read between the lines: Did you feel a spark between you two?

You don’t think you can answer that without telling Wanda something first.

“When Yelena and I broke up, our story ended on an open note. There was no closure and part of me always wondered 'what if'. But then you happened, Wanda. You walked into my life and turned it upside down in the most beautiful way.”

You take a deep breath, looking at Wanda, her wide eyes locked onto yours, filled with anticipation. “Before I asked you to marry me, I thought about Yelena. I wondered what it meant to still have an open chapter with her. But in that moment, I knew with absolute certainty, you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Wanda visibly relaxes at this, which makes you regret the next words to come out of your mouth.

“But when I found out what really happened, it just floored me,” you say. “Our trust was broken, our marriage ended, and I was left feeling totally confused and hurt. I had to question everything we ever had together.”

Your voice drops to a softer tone, “After our divorce, my history with Yelena seemed like something unfinished that I needed to explore. I was just trying to make sense of everything, looking for a way to move on. I let myself think about 'what if' with her, and even gave a relationship with Yelena a chance. But we both know how that turned out, don't we?”

You give a small shake of your head, smiling sadly, “But to directly answer your question: No, it didn't spark any old romantic feelings when I ran into her in Soho. I didn't feel the same butterflies that I felt when I fell in love with her back then, or the ones I felt when I fell for you. And I realized recently that what we had for the second time around was more about seeking a familiar comfort, a way for me to move from you.”

Wanda nods as she takes everything in. It suddenly feels like a funeral setting, mourning a series of losses.

“I think I’m just realizing now more clearly, the magnitude of what I’ve done,” Wanda begins. Her gaze is steady, albeit heavy with a kind of self-awareness that only comes after a period of reflection and growth. “When I messed up, it wasn't just about you and me. It hurt people we care about. The fallout wasn't contained to just us, it spread to almost everyone we really care about.”

Wanda inhales a deep, shuddering breath, visibly collecting herself. “I can't erase what I did. I can't change the past. But I can learn from it. That huge mistake I made... it's a part of me now. I have to live with it, not as a source of shame, but as a constant reminder of where I went wrong.”

Calliope listens, her expression softening with understanding as Wanda speaks. When Wanda finishes, she nods, thoughtful.

After a brief pause to let her words sink in, Calliope segues into the next subject. “Is there anything else that has strained your trust in Y/N, or have we covered everything?”

Wanda, after a thoughtful silence, finally murmurs, “There's something else…”

You turn to your ex-wife, surprised by her admission. You brace yourself for whatever comes next, even though a nagging feeling at the back of your mind tells you that you're about to be blindsided once again by something in your relationship with Wanda.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Her voice is a bit shaky as she starts, “I... I'm afraid that one day you'll just... leave. Without a word, without a trace. Just like my mother did to me and my brother when we were young.”

She looks directly at you, vulnerability written all over her face. You can see the fear that grips her in those beautiful eyes, a fear that you've unknowingly contributed to.

“That night, when I asked you to stay... when I overdosed... it was that fear. That feeling of abandonment, it just... it just became too much,” she whispers, her voice trailing off.

You’re stunned into silence at the enormity of her confession. You had no idea that she carried such deep-rooted fears. It makes you view your actions and decisions in a new light. You may have unknowingly triggered her worst fear, exacerbating the pain she felt from your separation.

You reach across the couch to take her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I... I didn't realize that night what I was doing to you,” you say, looking down at your hands, now entwined. “I should've stayed. Maybe then things would've been different. If I'd understood...” Your voice trails off, choked with regret.

Wanda’s overdose, her hospitalization, it really was your fault. “Y/N,” Calliope's gentle voice cuts through your self-recrimination, “I see that you're blaming yourself, but it's crucial to recognize that we are all responsible for our own actions. Wanda's overdose was her response to the pain, a decision driven by her emotional state at the time. While you did play a role in her life, you didn't dictate her choices. There were other ways for her to cope, other people she could have reached out to. The path she took, as desperate as it may have been, was her decision. Our challenge now is to understand why she felt that was her only option, rather than assigning blame.”

Action and reaction. You understand that these are the things you can control if they are your own, but that doesn't negate the fact that other factors can influence them. Calliope's words don't quite alleviate the guilt threatening to engulf you.

“Y/N, would you care to share your intentions that night when you left Wanda? Did you plan to sever all communication with her?” Calliope gently prods.

“Calliope, can we–” Wanda begins, her voice breaking as if the words are lodged in her throat. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“No, Wanda, it’s okay,” you say softly. Your eyes lock with Wanda's, holding her gaze as if trying to communicate a silent promise. You then turn to Calliope, drawing a deep breath.

“I... I don't know," you admit, your voice low. “I was so hurt and angry... I couldn't think straight. But I never intended to... to abandon her like that. I just... I needed some space. I needed time to process everything that happened. And I thought she needed it too.”

Wanda cuts in to support your statement, “We were hurting each other... every day, every moment. It was as if we were stuck in a loop of anger, pain, and... meaningless sex. That week... it was like we were poisoning each other.”

Wanda's voice softens, reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea, “I understand now why you had to leave then. But this time, if we're trying... if we're really committed to this, can I count on you to communicate with me if you ever feel like you need space?”

As Calliope turns to you for an answer, you feel an immediate sense of calmness washing over you.

“Of course, Wanda,” you assure her with a small smile.

With a satisfied nod, Calliope wraps up the joint part of your therapy session, “That's a good place to pause for now.” She looks over at both of you, a proud smile on her face.

She then turns to you specifically, “Y/N, would you still be okay to proceed with your individual session after a short 30-minute break?”

You nod quickly. You want nothing more than to proceed and talk to Calliope about some things that have made it difficult for you to sleep in recent days.

“Alright, then. I'll see you shortly,” Calliope remarks, retreating to her desk, her pen already dancing across her notebook.

You and Wanda rise from your seats, and she mentions that she needs to rush back to the cafe to work on potential recipes for the “Cup-off”. You've only heard about this competition in passing one evening, but you nod supportively, thankful for her patience and engagement throughout these therapy sessions. She rewards you with a kiss on the cheek, and a promise to call you later.

“Okay, Y/N, let's begin,” Calliope starts, taking a deep and grounding breath. You find yourself silently admiring her resilience and strength. Her job seems like more of an emotional balancing act than you initially thought, bearing witness to all sorts of personal burdens day in and day out. Yet here she is, prepared to cross another emotional minefield. You briefly wonder if it ever gets to her–the burden of other people's problems.

“So, Y/N, how are you doing right now?”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you settle back into the same spot you occupied just thirty minutes ago. “You were in the room with us,” you say with a wry smile. “You know how it went.”

Calliope grins slightly, responding patiently, “Yes, I was there. But a lot can shift in thirty minutes. It's fascinating, isn't it? The fluidity of human emotions. They can change, sometimes so rapidly.”

You smile good-naturedly, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup still lingering in your hands. Glancing out onto the balcony of the reception area had given you a moment to breathe, to reflect.

“Actually, I'm doing alright,” you tell Calliope, your voice steadier than before. “The quick break helped me calm down. I was upset, I won't lie, after hearing about the impact of my leaving on Wanda. And the thought of almost losing her without even realizing it... I would never be able to forgive myself if something had happened to her.”

“It won't be easy, but you need to forgive yourself. Wanda has,” Calliope says.

You take a deep breath, trying to absorb her words. It's one thing to hear Wanda say she forgives you, but to actually forgive yourself? That's a more complicated matter.

“Thank you, Calliope. I'll try.” You pause, collecting your thoughts, before adding, “There is actually something else on my mind.”

“What is it, Y/N?”

“Natasha,” you say, the name echoing in the room, fraught with significance. “She's my best friend. Well, was, I guess. And she's Yelena's sister.”

A brief understanding flashes across Calliope's face. “Ah,” she murmurs, leaning back in her chair. “That's a complex dynamic.”

“To say the least,” you reply, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. “I messed up with Yelena, right? I...I kissed Wanda while we were still together. And after Yelena broke up with me, Natasha and I had a big fight. She's refused to talk to me since. So, I’m just gonna go straight to it and ask you: How do I fix it?”

Calliope studies you for a moment, her gaze steady. “Y/N,” she begins, leaning further back in her chair, “A common misconception about therapy is that therapists are the 'fixers', that we hold all the answers to people's problems. But the truth is, we're here just to guide, to help you look at situations in a healthier way.”

You find yourself nodding, even though a part of you yearns for a simple solution.

Calliope pauses, letting you digest her words. “As for your situation with Natasha, you must understand that your control is limited. You cannot control her reactions or feelings. What you can control are your actions and intentions.”

She sees the understanding dawning in your eyes. “Your desire to fix the situation is natural, especially when you've caused hurt. But apologies can't be rushed, and forgiveness can't be demanded. However, there are steps you can take to start the process of healing.”

It's not an immediate solution, but it's a direction to follow. “I see,” you mutter, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Can you share with me what these steps are?”

Calliope smiles at your willingness to learn the process. “First, acknowledge what you've done wrong. In your case, it seems like you've done that. You've recognized that your actions with Wanda while being with Yelena caused you to hurt Natasha,” she starts.

“Second, reflect. Why did you do it? From what I’ve gathered, it’s because of your intense feelings for Wanda, which you have acknowledged in our previous sessions. Next, and most critically, how can you prevent such actions in the future?” she continues.

“Third, make the apology, but make sure it's sincere. People can tell when you're not genuinely sorry. Don't just say it to make yourself feel better, but rather to acknowledge the hurt you've caused," she advises, her gaze fixed on yours, driving home the importance of the words.

“I tried when I could,” you respond, frustration seeping into your voice. “But now, I don't even know how or when I could get another chance to…”

“Well, you’ve done your part, Y/N. Maybe you were sincere, but it wasn’t the right time for her yet. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear it.” Calliope says.

You rub your face, feeling the weariness creeping in. “I just... I hope she knows how deeply sorry I am.”

“She will, Y/N, in her own time. Which brings us to the last advice I can give you,” Calliope says. “Give them time and space. It's crucial to understand that they may need time to process your apology and decide how they feel about it. They may not forgive you immediately, or even at all. That's something you'll have to accept.”

That's something you'll have to accept.

You went to kindergarten with Natasha. You shared birthdays together and even a funeral.

If Natasha never forgives you, then you permanently lose a piece of your life.

A piece of yourself.

***

The persistent drone of the plane engines always unsettled you, making you hesitant about leaving the familiarity of solid ground. This feeling has you rooted in one city, avoiding globe-trotting adventures or cross-country escapades.

But when Wanda asked you to go with her to Los Angeles to celebrate Christmas with her family, you couldn't say no. The way her eyes lit up when she asked you was irresistible, and with your mom planning to spend the holidays with her friends in Europe, you faced the prospect of being alone in Manhattan. Despite your discomfort with planes, you decided to put your fears aside and join her on the trip.

Wanda, otherwise the perfect companion, is now constantly on her phone, taking calls every five minutes, and when she's not on a call, she's texting. You overhear snippets about delayed orders and maintenance contracts, so it's probably her suppliers, but the incessant buzzing and clicking of her phone still gnaws at your attention.

Who are they, these people reaching out to her? Even if it's just business, what are all these conversations about? Wanda happens to be a very attractive woman, and people aren't blind to it.

She takes wind of your unease eventually, her hand reaching over to squeeze yours, a reassuring smile on her face. “It's just the suppliers and the maintenance people for the shop,” she explains, but the phone still rests in her other hand, a barrier that you can't quite overcome.

Before you can respond, the pilot's voice echoes through the cabin, signaling take-off, you instinctively brace yourself, your knuckles whitening as you clutch the armrests tightly. Noticing your visible discomfort, Wanda gently peels your rigid fingers away from the armrest and threads them through hers. A soft gasp escapes her as your grip tightens around her fingers instinctively, harder than you mean to. Sparky, comfortably nestled in Wanda's lap, looks considerably more at ease than you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes squeezed shut as you brace for the sensation of the accelerating plane.

“It's okay, love,” Wanda reassures you. Her thumb traces comforting circles over the back of your hand, and you cling to the calming rhythm.

The plane picks up speed, the familiar pressure building in your chest. You suck in a quick breath, your free hand gripping the armrest on your other side.

Suddenly, Sparky lifts his head from Wanda's lap and turns to you, his furry face full of concern. His soft whimpering and puppy eyes manage to pull a small smile from you. Somehow, his innocent worry makes the tension ebb away slightly.

With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Wanda whispers, “We're about to lift off. Just remember to breathe.”

As the plane ascends, your heart flutters in response to the shift in gravity. The world outside the window begins to shrink, the vast expanse of the city transforming into a model town. You keep your eyes shut, focusing on the steady rhythm of Wanda's thumb on your hand. If you’re going to die from a plane crash today, you find comfort in having Wanda’s assurances against your ear as the last sound you’ll ever hear.

“See, we're okay,” Wanda says after a moment, a note of triumph in her voice.

You open your eyes slowly, the cabin steady around you. As you look out of the window, the sight of the sprawling city below is enough to take your breath away.

“Do I get a reward for doing a great job?” you ask with a smirk.

A playful grin takes over her features as she leans in, pressing a light kiss to your lips. She then whispers in your ear, her voice low and sweet, “You’ll get the rest of your reward tonight, baby.”

The sound of her voice makes you tingle in all the right (wrong) places and it effectively distracts you enough from your fear of flying, allowing for some much-needed conversation.

“How’s the cup competition coming along?”

“Cup-off,” Wanda corrects you with a chuckle, her chin coming to rest on your shoulder, her breath fanning against your neck as she speaks. “It’s been fun coming up with different flavors, but I don’t know…” she trails off. “But, let's face it. I'm just a home cook who loves her espresso machine, not a seasoned barista. I'll be up against real coffee connoisseurs who've been perfecting their brews for years.”

“And that's what makes it so interesting, don't you think?” You turn your head slightly to meet her eyes. “You bring something different to the table, Wanda. You have a passion and creativity that they might not have.”

She gives you a thoughtful look, clearly mulling over your words. Her lips curve into a small, appreciative smile, and she snuggles closer to you. “You always know how to make me feel better,” she murmurs, her voice dropping an octave, and you know she's doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up. But there's just plenty of things on your mind right now, and her phone buzzing with notifications again isn't helping.

“It's easy when it's the truth,” you say, stirring the topic back to coffee. “But how about you approach it from a different angle?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, tilting her head and looking at you with apt interest.

“Instead of flavors, return to the basics. Use single origin coffee for your brew and make sure to source only the best stuff. I don’t know. Maybe I’m not making sense. But… sometimes people just really appreciate quality ingredients, you know?”

Wanda's eyes widen, and you notice a spark of excitement in her expression. She leans closer, her attention fully on you, the phone momentarily forgotten. “You may be onto something,” she says slowly.

“Really?” Your eyebrows shoot up, surprised and delighted at her interest.

“Really,” Wanda's expression turns thoughtful, her gaze fixated on some distant point as she mulls over your idea some more. “In fact, that's actually a great idea, Y/N. It emphasizes the true essence of coffee, rather than masking it with a variety of flavors. It's raw, it's honest, and it's authentic... Just like you.”

Feeling a rush of warmth, you give her a teasing nudge. "Are you comparing me to a coffee now?"

She chuckles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe I am,” she says playfully, tightening her hold on your hand.

You roll your eyes, but your heart flutters at her words, and you find yourself leaning into her touch.

The idea of coming to LA with her just keeps getting better and better.

***

The flight to California feels endless, the hours stretching on. But the moment the plane touches down and the doors open, Wanda's face transforms with anticipation. As soon as she steps into the arrival lounge, her eyes lock onto a familiar figure. Her brother, standing a little taller than her but with the same striking features, waves energetically in her direction.

Without hesitation, Wanda breaks into a light run, her face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy. She launches herself into his embrace. Their arms wrap around each other, the distance and time apart melting away. “Piet,” she murmurs into his shoulder, her voice thick with emotion.

He ruffles her hair, his grin matching hers. "Been too long, little sis," he teases, before turning his attention to you.

“And Y/N,” Pietro greets you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment before he extends his hand. The handshake is civil, firm but noticeably cool. His polite smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and in that brief contact, you feel a lingering tension that serves as a reminder that not all is forgotten.

You grab Pietro's hand, giving it a quick shake. “Pietro.”

He quickly shifts his focus back to Wanda, bombarding her with questions you can't keep up with. As Wanda and Pietro chat and laugh, you feel a bit left out.

Pietro's cool demeanor makes it clear he knows about the issues between you and Wanda. You can't help but feel like you're on the outside looking in. Tugging on Sparky's leash and pulling your suitcase, you trail behind them, feeling like you're not really part of this little family reunion.

With Sparky trotting faithfully at your side, you traverse the bustling airport, lagging slightly behind Wanda and Pietro. Suddenly, Wanda seems to realize that you've fallen behind. She slows her pace and glances back at you with a soft smile. “Sorry,” she says, a slight flush to her cheeks as if she's only just remembered you're there too. “Got caught up with all the catching up.”

You offer her a small, understanding smile, grateful for the effort she's making to include you. “It's okay,” you reassure her. “It's been a while since you two last saw each other. Catch up all you want.”

Her smile widens at your words, and she squeezes your hand lightly in appreciation. The simple action is enough to wash away your earlier discomfort, reminding you that even if the situation isn't perfect, you're here for Wanda.

And that's all that matters.

To call Pietro's home in Sherman Oaks 'big' feels almost like an understatement. It's a sprawling, two-story house, complete with a wide, beautifully maintained front lawn and a driveway big enough to accommodate several cars. The house itself, painted in a warm, welcoming shade of beige, feels incredibly homely despite its size. The large windows and well-manicured garden make it clear that whoever lives here puts a lot of effort into maintaining it. For a brief moment, you feel a pang of intimidation; this is a far cry from the apartments and small houses back in New York.

Wanda's eyes widen in astonishment as they scan the surroundings. It seems she's just as impressed as you are. You lean towards her, whispering so that only she can hear, “Does Pietro really rake in that much cash?”

She gives you a sidelong glance, her eyes sparkling with amusement before shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I think it's his wife,” she responds in the same hushed tone.

“He got married again?” you ask, remembering the last time you heard about Pietro's personal life, he was going through a messy divorce.

Wanda nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, he did. And from what I can tell, I think it's really for keeps this time.”

Before you can comment further, a woman appears in the doorway. She's pregnant, very much so, at about six months based on her huge, round belly.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” she exclaims, approaching Wanda with open arms. Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly finding the grandiosity of the mansion anything but modest. She kisses each of Wanda's cheeks, and her warm smile is genuine and infectious.

However, as you watch her, you can't help but gasp softly. You recognize her. Your mind instantly takes you back to the day of your job interview at Stark Industries, and it was her–Shannon–who interviewed you.

You're so shell-shocked by the sudden realization that you just stand there, momentarily frozen.

Wanda nudges you gently, a knowing look in her eyes. “You recognize Shannon, don't you?” she asks, not bothering to lower her voice.

Shannon turns to you and her smile widens, “I see you remember our meeting.”

You manage to stammer out a surprised, “Yes,” while trying to regain your composure.

Wanda seems to sense your anxiety. She wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “I knew about the interview. Shannon told me,” she confesses, her voice just a whisper in your ear. “She was the one who gave me your new address.”

“She did what?”

“I think she did it to amuse herself because I was–I wasn’t clearly getting over you and she sort of nudged me in your direction. But I didn’t contact you until a month later, when Sparky had to be taken to the vet.”

“But my getting hired–that had nothing to do with you, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Wanda assures you, quickly dispelling your worry. “She only mentioned it to me over a month after we... after we had cut off communication. She did mention talking to Scott before hiring you.”

The mention of Scott's name brings a genuine smile to your face, tugging at the corner of your lips. You make a mental note to call him on Christmas Day.

“Why am I here hunting for a tree again?” Wanda grumbles, glancing back at the shrinking figure of you through Pietro's pickup truck window.

“Because you love me?” Pietro shoots back with a shrug.

“And Y/N, she'll be okay back there, right?”

“Y/N this, Y/N that,” Pietro mimics, feigning exasperation. “She’ll be fine.”

“You say that as if Shannon’s the loveliest host.”

“Well, she's been a lot nicer since she got pregnant.”

With a small sigh, Wanda leans back in her seat. The earlier excitement of seeing her brother at the airport is starting to fade. Now, without you or Sparky around, she feels a bit uneasy being alone with Pietro.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, sis. What’s up?”

Wanda takes a steadying breath, searching for the right words. “It's Y/N,” she begins. “Piet, I'm... I'm nervous. With Y/N here, with everything that happened, I don't know how…” She trails off, biting her lower lip.

Pietro is quiet for a moment. “And mom?” he prompts gently.

Wanda nods, her eyes distant. “And mom,” she echoes. “I wrote back to her, you know?”

Pietro raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You did?"

Wanda had always been more hesitant to reopen old wounds, especially when it came to their mother.

Wanda nods. “I did. I... I wrote about Dad. About how much it hurt when she left. I told her that I understand we don't really have a relationship right now, but... I want to try. I want to start fixing things.”

Pietro doesn't respond immediately. He keeps his eyes on the road, but the grip on his steering wheel tightens just a bit. When he finally speaks, his tone is softer than usual. “And what did she say?”

“I only sent it recently, just before we left for this trip,” Wanda admits. “I'm not sure whether she's received it yet or if she wrote me back.”

“So, does that mean you've forgiven her?” Pietro asks.

“I can't say for sure,” Wanda confesses. “But I'm hoping to, as I get to know this new version of her–the one you seem to have bonded with so well.”

“Wanda, she's really changed,” Pietro insists. “I've been telling you this.”

“I know, I know,” Wanda says, sounding a bit apologetic. “I'm sorry it's taken me this long to pay attention.”

“Hey, no worries,” Pietro says, giving her a gentle look. “You know what they say, right? Everything happens in its own time.”

After a beat, Pietro asks, “How are you and Y/N?”

“We're doing well, actually,” Wanda says, surprise softening her voice as if she's just realizing it herself. “Y/N has been... different. More open. More like the person I fell in love with. We're communicating more, which helps.”

“That's great to hear, Wanda. Really.”

“But,” she adds, her voice dropping to a murmur, “I still feel like there's a part of Y/N holding back. Like she’s still not fully trusting me... and I get it. I just... I hope that with time, that changes.”

Pietro smiles at her, nodding, then returns his attention to the road.

“And you and Shannon?” Wanda asks after it gets too quiet again. “How are things going?”

A shadow passes over Pietro's features, and he takes a deep breath before answering. “Actually... something happened. It's not bad, per se. But…”

“What did you do, Piet?” Wanda asks, her brows already pulled together into a frown.

“Why do you automatically assume it was me who did something?” Pietro retorts with a hint of amusement.

“Didn't you?”

Pietro hesitates for a moment before finally relenting, “...Yeah, I did.”

“So?”

“Well, about a week ago, I went out to a bar with a few friends from my old college football team, and I–”

“Tell me you did not cheat again on your pregnant wife!” Wanda exclaims, her voice rife with disbelief and anger.

With her sudden outburst, Pietro slams on the brakes, the vehicle screeching to a halt in the middle of the road. His arm aches sharply from the force of Wanda's indignant punch.

“Ow! Hey, stop,” Pietro shields himself from Wanda’s onslaught. “Jesus, Wands, I didn’t cheat on her, okay?”

Hearing this, Wanda pulls back, sinking back into her seat with a wary look on her face. She waits for him to explain further. He starts steering the car back into the highway again.

“I was just…” Pietro grapples for the right words, his expression troubled. “The therapy sessions with Dr. Williams... they've been beneficial, right? I mean, they've definitely helped you. And Shannon says they're making a difference for me too, but I…”

“But you still doubt yourself,” Wanda finishes his sentence, her voice laced with understanding.

Pietro affirms her statement with a heavy nod. “So that night, I thought I'd try a little experiment–see if I've really made as much progress as everyone says. I struck up a conversation with a woman at the bar, and before I knew it, we were flirting. It was like slipping back into an old rhythm–and it didn't matter to her that I was a married man.”

A bitter edge creeps into his voice as he pauses, gazing absently at the road ahead. “Then I offered to drive her home...that's usually when things take a turn, isn't it?”

Wanda recoils slightly, her nose scrunching up in distaste. The direction this story is taking leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She's uncomfortable, disturbed even, by the idea of Pietro willingly steering himself towards temptation like that. It feels too real, too human–a crisp reminder that making progress doesn't mean you're immune to setbacks.

“Right as she put her hand on my lap,” Pietro recounts, his throat tightening slightly as he swallows. “I understood that time spent in therapy doesn't just automatically make you a better person. It's the choices you make, every single day. Loving someone, being true to them...it's a conscious effort, day in and day out. You have to continuously choose them, especially when the sailing's smooth.”

Wanda absorbs his words, feeling the truth in them echo within her. She doesn't entertain any illusions about the two of you riding off blissfully into the sunset without a care in the world. Reality is far from that. Both you and her would always have to remain vigilant. Complacency, she knows, can be her worst enemy.

Wanda waits with bated breath. “What happened next?” she whispers.

He turns his gaze back to the road. “I moved her hand away from my lap and took her home, just like I said I would. Nothing more.”

“And did you tell Shannon about this?” Wanda asks, her voice steady, almost clinical.

Pietro’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yeah, I did. The morning after. I didn’t want to keep it from her.”

Wanda's heart aches for her brother. Maybe he's truly attempting to become a better person, even if his methods are foolish at times.

“And how did she react?”

Pietro shrugs, attempting to mask his apprehension with a nonchalant demeanor. “She was... understandably upset. But she appreciated the honesty, I think. We're still working through it.”

Wanda silently reflects on his words. She can't imagine herself taking such a risk, not after everything that's happened. It isn't about doubting her own commitment or strength of character, but she feels it's a mark of respect to you not to willingly tread near the edge of temptation.

With a soft sigh, she turns her attention to the road ahead as they pull into the Christmas tree farm. The task of picking out a tree seems almost trivial in comparison to what they had just discussed, yet it also feels grounding—a joyful tradition amidst the complexities of life. For now, they have a Christmas tree to pick out.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #peter parker

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bvidzsoo · 3 months

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (5)

Chapter 5: Avalanche

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cussing, mentions of suicide

Word count: 8, 084

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Updateee, hehet. Now, now...this chapter is emotionally loaded, but at least we can notice some progress in their relationship lol, it was about time if you ask me. Please listen to Avalanche before or while reading this chapter, it's really important as it portrays Mingi's story and feelings in the past, so please don't skip it! I can't promise the next update will be soon because I have a deadline by next week, but if I won't be too burned out then I might just update towards next weekend. ALSO G U Y S!!!! Tunnel?!?!?!?!?! SONG MINGI'S SOLO???? ARE WE FINE?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE RELEASES T H A T WHILE I'M WRITING A STORY EXACTLY LIKE THAT???!! No, but seriously, I'm completely not fine, I still can't believe this happened BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME I WRITE SOMETHING AND IT HAPPENS. Okay, I'm done screaming, sorry. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I tried my best and I hope it turned out okay. Feedback is appreciated, enjoy now!!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @okokmaybe01-blog

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

There was a beat of silence, of nobody moving, of nobody blinking or saying anything. My heart shouldn’t have picked up its rhythm so fast, but as my eyes briefly ran over Mingi’s tall form standing in the doorway opposite mine, I realized he looked the same as in the video I have seen on Seulgi’s Instagram story, the only change to his outfit was the black hoodie covering his broad frame—and wet, almost see-through, white shirt.

“What are you doing here?” My mouth was moving before I could think, mind suddenly a puddle.

“Picking up some food since I’m headed home from Outlaw.” Mingi’s explanation came quickly, his own eyes taking in my appearance as they briefly ran over my body. My grip tightened around the doorknob as I suddenly felt embarrassed. I knew I didn’t look like my usual self; my eyes were still red from crying, and I couldn’t help but sniff every other few minute. And I was completely soaked in rainwater.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked at once, eyes finally meeting mine. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his eyes—he seemed tired. Black eyeliner rimmed his already sharp eyes, creating the illusion of them piercing right through you. I suddenly felt naked under his attentive gaze, too exposed for my liking. I cleared my throat and stepped away from the doorway finally, circling my arms around my body, just now noticing the teetering of my teeth. I tried to offer my body some comfort by hugging myself, but it wasn’t exactly working.

“I was on a walk when it started raining, so I took shelter in here.” That wasn’t a lie at all, yet under Mingi’s watchful gaze, it felt like one. My eyebrows slightly furrowed at the thought, wondering why it felt like I was lying. Perhaps it was the doubt in his eyes as he looked over me once again, clearly questioning why I was drenched from head to toe if I took shelter in here, but I would not further explain myself to him.

“Right,” His voice conveyed nothing and I tried to hide my surprise as he didn’t prod further, “I understand.”

He stepped outside the men’s restroom finally, making me press myself up against the cold wall of the hallway as it was narrow, sniffing as another shudder ripped through my body. Despite having warmed my hands and cheeks with the warm water, I could feel the cold seep through my bones once again as my clothes clung onto my frame uncomfortably. Mingi didn’t cast me any other glance as he took off towards the main hall and I found myself following after him, licking my dry lips as I tried to hug myself tighter, rubbing at my side clumsily. It was my last attempt to warm myself up. My eyes were trained on the floor as they were burning, but I found them drawn upwards soon, curiously watching the back of Mingi’s head. His black hair was damp, and the blue sheer sunglass I saw him wearing in the video was put on backwards, making me frown as I stared at it as it rested against the back of Mingi’s head. Couldn’t he just take it off? Why wear it backwards? Was this a new trend he was following to become more famous? I scoffed at myself quietly as Mingi and I rounded the corner, walking back inside the main hall of the diner, the lady at the front counter looking up from a notebook she was writing in, cash placed next to it. Her eyes were trained on Mingi only, and I rolled my eyes subconsciously, awaiting her to act like one of his baboons—fangirls—from Outlaw and even from our university, but instead, her eyes held warmth as she leaned down and grabbed something from behind the counter. I found myself rooted to my place, watching the interaction—just slightly intrigued—as if I were a child waiting for their parent to finally move and leave the diner. It was silly, really, why was I waiting for Mingi? It’s not like him and I would be leaving together—yet my feet refused to move despite my thoughts telling me to do so.

“Steak with mashed potatoes and some side dishes, just the way you like it.” The lady said kindly as she placed a casserole inside a bag on the counter, pushing it towards Mingi. My eyes were glued to the side of his face, watching his reaction, waiting for his usual arrogant and flirty self to come to the surface, but instead, a small smile made it onto his face as his right hand slipped inside his pocket. Huh, that was new, I’ve never seen Mingi act like—himself—in front of a woman before.

“Thank you, Dahyun, you always seem to know what I’m craving.” Mingi told her quietly and I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt a sneeze trying to fight its way out of my nose, it burned.

“No, you just always ask for the same meals on the same days,” She chuckled as Mingi extended the money towards her, “You’re a simple man, and my memory is simply too good—it’s on the house tonight, Mingi.”

“But—”

“I already closed the register.” Dahyun winked at him and pushed Mingi’s hand back, ignoring the noises of complaint he made, “Seriously, do you want me to overwork myself?”

“Fine,” Mingi sighed, his eyebrows furrowed. My head started to lightly thump and I found myself leaning against the wall, eyes heavy and burning. My mother would kill me for getting sick for such a dumb reason as to staying out in the rain without realizing it was even pouring. Damn Yunho, it’s his fault, “But at least let me leave a tip.”

Dahyun gave Mingi a pointed stare before her eyes fell on me, suddenly realizing I was there too. I cleared my throat awkwardly as I stood up straight, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Mingi turned his head, his eyes falling on me as well, and suddenly I felt—so small. Both of them were looking at me with concern in their eyes, and I couldn’t help but look away as my eyes were suddenly burning with tears in them. Why was I in such an unstable state all of a sudden? My chest felt lighter, my throat wasn’t closing in on me anymore—I was fine, so then why?

“Can you make her some tea? If I’m not asking for too much.” My eyes snapped up in Mingi’s direction as he was looking at me, face still emotionless, but eyebrows furrowed.

“Of course, we’ve still got like five minutes until we’re closing.” Dahyun answered him cheerily and then turned around, opening some cabinets as she got to work.

“Okay, but accept the money this time.” Mingi muttered and placed some bills on the counter, pushing it towards the notebook she seemed to be busy with before we disturbed her.

“Whatever.” Dahyun huffed and cast me a quick glance as Mingi turned to look at me again.

“Are you cold?” Mingi asked and I tensed my muscles, trying to stop the trembling, but it was hard—and it wasn’t even working. But I just gulped and pulled myself together, walking closer to him.

“No.” My teeth clanked against each other again and I sniffed as Dahyun turned to face me, a plastic cup in her hands.

“We only have wild berry tea; I hope you like that.” She said with a smile as she placed the cup on the counter and pushed it towards me. I cleared my throat and looked down at it, the steam hot and inviting as I reluctantly reached out for it. It was embarrassing—this whole situation. I was looking like a mess, on the verge of another breakdown, because why not—my brain decided that I simply wasn’t finished crying over nothing—even if it wasn’t exactly nothing, I refused to acknowledge it. I reluctantly reached for the cup, slightly annoyed that Mingi and this Dahyun girl were looking at me like I was going to break—or explode—at any given moment. I let out a frustrated sigh as my fingers wrapped around the hot cup firmly, skin slightly burning, but I welcomed the feeling as I have stopped feeling my fingers a good few minutes ago.

“Stop looking at me like that, Mingi, I’m fine.” I didn’t mean to snap, but my tone was sharp as I sucked in a sharp breath, bringing the cup up to my lips and blowing on the hot water, the steam warming my skin.

“I’m not looking—anyways,” He cut himself off as he grabbed the bag with his food inside and stepped away from the counter, “Thank you, Dahyun, we won’t be holding you back for longer.”

“No problem, see you soon!” She said with a smile, waving a little as Mingi nodded at her, barely returning her smile. It seemed almost like there was something wrong with him, but I couldn’t tell, I didn’t know him well. He could’ve been simply acting to gain our sympathy—I could see Mingi doing something like that, it didn’t seem too far from his atrocious character.

“Uh, thank you.” I thanked the girl quietly as I slightly bowed my head and she just smiled, waving at me as well as I quickly hurried after Mingi, who had stopped in the doorway, apparently waiting for me.

His hand reached out for the handle, but he hesitated for a second, not opening the door just yet, “It’s still raining…and you don’t have an umbrella…”

I raised an eyebrow as I took a sip of my hot tea, taking a glance at Mingi. He was looking ahead, eyes trained on the road through the glass doors. The sweet taste of wild berries exploded in my mouth and I bit my lip as the warm tea flushed down my throat, warming me up from the inside as I eagerly took another big gulp, slightly burning my tongue.

“Yeah, I don’t have an umbrella.” I said, the two of us looking at each other at the same time, “But it’s fine, I’m already drenched. I’ll just run home—”

“You’re already shivering and shaking constantly, Y/N.” Mingi said matter of fact, and I rolled my eyes almost instantly, “Let me drive you home.”

“You don’t have to, it doesn’t matter.” I muttered with a shrug and took another sip of my tea, but Mingi just shook his head and turned his body slightly towards mine.

“You keep sniffing and you are clearly cold, even if you say you aren’t.” He raised an eyebrow, pointing towards my flushed cheek—I could only hope I wouldn’t have a fever, “You’ll catch a cold at this point, just let me drive you home. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Mingi,” I sighed loudly, giving him a glare, “I’m fine, I’m not cold and I won’t catch a cold—”

Almost as if the Universe—or my own body—was having a laugh at me, a sneeze forced its way through my nostrils, loud, and an obvious sign that I wasn’t doing too well currently. Mingi’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried not to smile and suppress his chuckle, making me grumble to myself as I quickly drank the remaining tea, feeling slightly warmer.

“Still going to pass on that ride?” Mingi quirked an eyebrow as a smirk appeared on his lips and I scoffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Lead the way, Prince Charming.” I mocked, but it only made Mingi giggle as he pushed the door open, the breeze freezing as it suddenly hit me. I instantly shivered and made myself smaller, clutching myself around my middle.

“That’s my car.” Mingi pointed towards a black car across the street and suddenly he took off, pulling his hood over his head, running out into the rain. There was no oncoming traffic, so I quickly left the shop and ran across the road, headed for the passenger seat. As I got there, the car was unlocked and Mingi was pulling the key out of the lock and opening his side of the door quickly, jumping inside. I followed his lead and slammed the door closed after sitting inside, shivering and groaning at the cold gripping at my skin again, pressing myself back into the leather seat of Mingi’s car. He placed the food in the backseat, putting the keys into the ignition. He looked at me, lips slightly pursed.

“Uh,” For the first time in my life, Mingi looked embarrassed as he scratched his nape, “The car’s old so uhm—we’ll have to wait a little bit before we take off. For the engine to warm up and shit, you know.”

I hummed and gulped, grip tightening around the plastic cup I was still holding onto. I did not want to prolong my time spent together with Mingi, so why couldn’t his car work just fine? I watched him as he turned the key, but the engine didn’t start right away, screeching for a second as Mingi tried again, groaning with his eyebrows furrowed. I remained silent as I watched him struggle for a few more seconds until the engine finally rumbled to life, the sound louder than I expected. But it only lasted for another second before it settled down, the pouring rain overshadowing the sound of the old engine. Mingi went and pressed a few buttons on the dashboard and I allowed my muscles to relax slightly, noting the way I was still shaking. When will it stop? It was getting annoying. As if Mingi sensed my train of thoughts, he turned his head towards me and cleared his throat.

“Are you cold?” He asked, making me sigh as I shook my head no, refusing to admit that I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. Maybe if this old wreck could warm up faster I wouldn’t be shaking so much—and I knew Mingi’s car had zero faults right now, but I had to pour my irritation onto something instead of admitting defeat in front of him, “You’re very obviously cold, Y/N.”

I scoffed and my eyes snapped to him as he suddenly leaned more towards me, reaching for something in the backseat of the car, “If it’s so obvious, Mr. Obvious, do something about it—”

My mouth clamped shut the second Mingi was holding a black denim jacket in his hand with a lopsided smile, extending it towards me, “I am doing something about it, here, wear it.”

He let it fall into my lap before I could refuse him and suddenly my cheeks were on fire—and not from the cold. I cleared my throat loudly and averted my gaze as Mingi settled back into his seat with a small grin, watching me as I rolled my eyes, fumbling with the heavy jacket he had given me. I didn’t want to wear it—that was the last thing I actually wanted to do, but a violent shiver racked through my body and I was suddenly moving faster than lightning, groaning as my clothes were still stuck against my body. It was a horrible feeling, but at least Mingi’s seats were leather, easier to clean. I pulled the black denim jacket around my shoulders before putting each arm through the sleeves, trying to ignore Mingi’s eyes on me, and the amused smile he had on his face. It wasn’t funny—but it was probably entertaining to him. I wonder how many girls he took home like this before me, letting them wear his jacket only to flirt with them afterwards as a means of getting to sleep with them. Men were easy, and Mingi was one of them. I could see right through his bullshit, and so, despite the warmth and masculine scent enveloping my senses, I gave Mingi a sharp glare, making him chuckle.

“You’re so predictable,” He said quietly, almost as if to himself, but I heard him, and I scoffed, “You won’t thank me, right?”

“I’m still cold.” I evaded his question instead, giving him a look, but Mingi just giggled, the sound low and deep inside his chest. I watched as his features relaxed and found my heart beating faster once again as I realized that I was enclosed in a tiny space with him, barely a few feet away from each other. There was something different about Mingi all of a sudden as he threw his head back, sighing loudly and gripping the wheel. His eyes fluttered close and I couldn’t will myself to look away, suddenly curious of the man sitting next to me. Who was he? Why was he like this? But the confusing butterflies deep inside my stomach sent me into distress, and I averted my eyes as Mingi opened his, and realized it was becoming suffocating. The silence. I didn’t like it. Mingi wasn’t saying anything, the engine was still dully rumbling and the rain was hitting the roof of the old Honda Prelude loudly. It didn’t feel as restricting as earlier, but my throat was squeezing in on itself and without asking for permission, I reached forward and pressed a button on the stereo, turning the radio on.

The instrumental wasn’t something I have heard before, and the harsh beat of the drums resounded in the car loudly, making my heart jump. Soon, the drum was accompanied by the lively but soft melody of the guitar, guiding it through. It felt like a storm, the loud and harsh beats of the drums lead by the soft yet determined guitar. It was almost as if two sides of the coin were leaning on each other for support—almost as if one was desperate to be shown some light in the darkness. I saw Mingi shift in the corner of my eyes, and I was startled at the intense look in his eyes as he looked at me, lips parted and eyebrows drawn up. He seemed surprised but at the same time almost angry, it was a look I couldn’t read well yet. I didn’t understand why he was looking at me like that. Suddenly, the drums slightly softened, until they became silent, and the guitar guided the melody smoothly, bringing it a comforting feeling. Mingi and I were still looking at each other and I was about to ask why he was looking at me like that, but suddenly the raspy, yet warm, voice resounding in the car took me off guard as my eyes widened, leaving me gaping at Mingi.

『Cut me open and tell me what's inside

Diagnose me 'cause I can't keep wondering why

And no, it's not a phase 'cause it happens all the time

Start over, check again, now tell me what you find

'Cause I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?』

His voice was smooth as the drums and guitar accompanied it, dropping lower at times and feeling like the caress of a whisper at the same time. Mingi’s face had turned emotionless once again as his eyes locked with mine, and I tried to give him a glare, but my mind was focused on the words he was singing—on the message behind his lyrics.

『It's like an avalanche, I feel myself go under

'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck

I never stood a chance, my heart has frozen over

And I feel like I am treading on thin ice』

The beat picked up again, the drums louder as the melody grew more aggressive, Mingi’s voice reflecting it and gliding with it. His voice was powerful and held sincerity as he sung, his words ringing through my mind as the raspiness of it became more hearable. I couldn’t hold Mingi’s gaze anymore and I swiftly turned my head, playing with the cup I had in my hands as I gulped, the melody slowing down once again.

『Am I broken? What's the chance I will survive?

Don't sugarcoat me 'cause I feel like suicide

Just give it to me straight, 'cause I'm running out of time

I need an antidote, now what can you prescribe?』

My eyebrows furrowed the longer I listened to his words, wondering if this is what he actually felt like. Wondering when he wrote this song. Wondering why and how was Mingi hiding such feelings locked away in himself, in a way that nobody would be able to see the real him. Why were his words so relatable and why did I suddenly find myself teary eyed, biting my lower lip to try and get a grip of myself again.

『It's like an avalanche, I feel myself go under

'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck

I never stood a chance, my heart has frozen over

And I feel like I am treading on thin ice, and I'm going under』

I wonder who made him feel like that. Who had hurt Mingi so much that he felt like he was on the verge of giving it all up. Did he still feel like that? Were the two of us not so much different from each other after all? I sniffed, turning my head to look out the window instead, scared that if I hung my head down the tears would actually fall.

『I need a cure for me 'cause the square doesn't fit the circle

Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world

I need a cure for me 'cause the square doesn't fit the circle

Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world』

My grip around the cup tightened and I heard Mingi shift in his seat again, but I didn’t turn around to look at him. Emotions and thoughts of all sorts were whirling in my head, and I couldn’t stop thinking. I haven’t really paid attention to what he sings in his songs before—not that I had many occasions to do so—but this one suddenly felt so familiar, as if there was at least one person in the world who understood my struggles too. I’ve had low points in life before, especially after Yunho left me, and I really felt like there was no way out for me. I didn’t know how to cope and what to do with myself, I became uncaring and closed myself off to the world, only talking to those necessary, and barely doing anything if I could. That was the only time in my life when my art didn’t help at all, when I couldn’t pick up my pencil out of fear of what my mind would conjure up to torment me with. My life revolved around Jeong Yunho, and I knew because of missing him, he would be the only thing I would be drawing. He was my muse, and I hated it for such a long time not realizing that it was in some twisted way helping with getting over him. I have memorized every single feature and flaw of his, knowing it by heart. It was freeing when I was able to highlight all the things I knew he hated about himself, it made it easier for me to remind myself that he wasn’t as perfect as I thought he was. It was just the idea I had created of him in my head.

My fingers were tapping against the cup, following the rhythm of the song as Mingi’s beautiful voice carried on singing, the melody wrapping me up in my thoughts, almost getting lost to the point where I wasn’t paying attention to the song anymore. But it was actually impossible to do that, Mingi had a way to keep you focused on himself even if he was just simply singing, his raspy and warm voice keeping you in a vice grip, making you yearn for more. As the song came to an end, I released a breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding. Mingi was swift as he leaned forward and turned off the stereo, clearing his throat loudly. For a few more seconds nothing was said between the two of us, silence enveloping around us once again. But I didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, I felt—almost sad, but mostly curious of the making of this song. Of what prompted Mingi to write it. Why were his emotions so raw in this, and who caused him to feel like this.

“It wasn’t bad,” I found myself speaking up, not really thinking through my words first, “you’re not too bad at this, Mingi.”

I didn’t expect him to laugh, and as I turned my head, he was already looking at me with an amused look on his face, covering his mouth as his laughter got louder for a second. My eyebrows furrowed, and I was about to say something less nice to him, but I realized my compliment sounded oddly similar to the one I had gotten from him back at the library. Despite fighting against the smile wanting to appear on my lips, I quickly let out a chuckle, our eyes with Mingi connecting. Despite the depth of the song and the somber atmosphere it created, Mingi seemed to be almost ecstatic as he shrugged, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Subconsciously, I nuzzled further into the collar of the denim jacket, the cologne stronger as I inhaled it, reminded that I was wearing Mingi’s jacket. I didn’t miss the way a fond smile appeared on his face for a few moments, quickly disappearing as he cleared his throat and looked ahead, pressing some other buttons on the dashboard.

“Thank you, getting a compliment from a fine arts genius certainly feels like I have won a Grammy or something.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes as Mingi chuckled, grinning at me for a second before he turned his body fully towards me, taking me off guard, “I wrote this song a long time ago, when—well, there’s nothing to hide here, when Yunho left for college. When I—remained alone at home, here in this town. Nothing was set in stone yet, to be honest, I had absolutely no idea what to do with my life back then. I was eighteen and I was confused and scared. The pressure of figuring out what you wanted to do with your life at such a young age was frightening and breaking me down, to be honest. I’ve always struggled mentally—you know, with depression and anxiety—and I think that period of time was the lowest I had ever been.”

I was soaking in every word Mingi was saying, mind silent and eyes focused on him, wanting to hear more as he continued talking, “Yunho was always the stronger one between the two of us and he always knew from a young age what he wanted to do, so when I realized I hadn’t planned my future ahead like him, I lost myself. And he—left, to college—in a different city. Hours away, leaving me all alone. I know I might sound dramatic, but I don’t deal well with change. I never have and I never will, I’m afraid. It took me almost a year to finally get used to living alone and sometimes I still struggle, it’s really frustrating. So you can imagine how badly I took my best friend, whom I have never been separated from before and we’ve known each other since kindergarten, leaving and abandoning me in the small town I have always hated and had no future in. I fell into deep depression and nothing was helping, like at all. Not even Yunho returning home out of the blue after two weeks of no contact on my part. When he saw the state I was in, we—we cried for hours, Y/N. It was horrible. I hate making him feel like that, because it wasn’t his fault, it was all mine.”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart clenched upon hearing Mingi’s words, quietly letting out a breath which felt like it was restricting my lungs. In this moment, I heard my own thoughts and feelings in Mingi. His struggles and pain, I understood them. My fingers crushed the cup accidentally, but thankfully Mingi didn’t seem to notice as he took a deep breath and continued, “I wanted to kill myself. If Yuyu wouldn’t have come home in that exact moment—I don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now.”

My eyebrows furrowed and without really thinking, my left hand reached over the center console and I found myself gripping Mingi’s right hand, his skin so much hotter than mine. He bit his lower lip, eyebrows twitching as he averted his gaze all of a sudden, turning his hand upwards so that my fingers could slip over his palm. It was weird how easily my skin tingled at the contact; thoughts silent for once.

“He suggested I find a way of getting these thoughts and feelings out of myself. And after he left once again I knew I had to do something unless I planned on completely losing my mind, so…I took a pen and paper and started writing. Everything I felt, everything I thought. And miraculously, it worked. Slowly, of course, but it started working. I found a good therapist as well and suddenly I could see a way out of this dark cloud hung up around my head, fogging my thoughts up. I searched for a beat on YouTube and realized I could turn these thoughts and feelings into music. And they didn’t even sound bad, but what was most important was that I enjoyed doing it. I felt free, I felt like I could finally say anything I ever wanted. And I knew if this helped me, then it would help others as well, let them know they weren’t alone, and that you can go on even if it seems like you can’t. I wrote this song right before signing up to our university and sent it in as a sample. I was granted access to the studious a week later, and two weeks later accepted to the university. It’s probably one of my happiest memories, especially since Yunho surprised me that day by coming home and celebrating it with me.”

As Mingi was done talking, silence settled between the two of us. Comforting, understanding. I looked down at my lap, mind a whirlwind of thoughts all of a sudden, threatening to rush out at once. The sudden thumb sweeping against my knuckles made me slightly tense, realizing that I was completely holding hands with Mingi. My cheeks burned all of a sudden and my heart jumped, yet despite my thoughts telling me to pull my hand out of his, I didn’t move just yet. The feeling—wasn’t so bad.

“My sketchbook—the one you flipped through without my permission—” I sent Mingi a small glare as he snorted, cutting me off for a second, “is like my journal. I doddle in it daily, sometimes I even write little messages next to the sketches, noting down the things on my mind or just simply how my day went. When I draw, my mind is completely silent, I feel at ease. There’s nothing bothering me and I don’t have to worry in that moment of what the next line will illustrate or what the overall drawing will be. My thoughts are often too loud and I get overwhelmed by them, it’s hard to ignore them, you know? But by drawing, I can escape them and free myself even for a little while, it’s similar to what you must feel when you write music. Just letting go and releasing everything you feel.”

Mingi’s eyes were warm and soft as a small smile appeared on his lips, his skin suddenly burning mine and as my heartbeat showed no signs of slowing down, so, I carefully slipped my hand out of his, turning ahead and staring out at the pouring rain, feeling exposed and too small, “I understand what it must’ve felt like going through all of that. There was a time in my life, when—my whole world revolved around one person only and when—when he left, I thought I would die. I didn’t want to continue on living, to be completely honest. But with time, and thanks to my mother and Seulgi, I built myself back up. It’s fine now—I mean, I’m fine now.”

Mingi just hummed and I could feel his gaze on me as I leaned forward in the seat, rubbing my face as I felt fatigue settle over my whole being. At least I wasn’t shaking anymore, the car had warmed up significantly and my clothes weren’t sticking to my skin so violently anymore.

“Everyone has their story, Y/N.” Mingi spoke up, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “And it was very obvious to me that your attitude towards me is just a defense mechanism—”

“Oh, don’t get too cocky now that I’ve shared something so insignificant from my life.” I snapped as I turned my head, giving him a small glare. Mingi chuckled, holding his hands up in a way that said he wasn’t trying to attack me.

“I don’t think it’s insignificant—”

“Mingi.”

“Tell me something…” He trailed off and I sighed loudly, not in the mood to converse anymore. I wanted to go home, “Are those eyes really Yunho’s in your sketchbook? Because I really don’t think they are. I mean, I know what my own eyes like look and—”

“Whatever, they are yours, okay?” I snapped defensively as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, cutting Mingi off. I knew I should’ve never confessed to him that those were indeed his eyes, because now the shit eating grin he had on his lips and the way his eyes sparkled weren’t worth it. Not when my cheeks felt on fire, and I knew it wasn’t from the warmth inside the car.

“I knew it!” He said triumphantly, giggling a little, making me role my eyes.

“Just because you have pretty eyes doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.” I scoffed and suddenly Mingi froze, staring at me like I said something wrong. I raised my eyebrows at him in question.

“I never said you were in love with me.” Shit. I scoffed and rolled my eyes again, giving him a deadpan look.

“Very well, can’t have you thinking that now that you know those are your eyes.” Mingi laughed, again, as he playfully leaned towards me, making my glare deepen.

“So, you think I’m pretty?” He bit his lower lip and my brain blanked for a second as my eyes ran over his face quickly, taking in his features. Yes, he was very pretty—what the fuck?!

“Just because you have features which are easy to draw, Mingi, doesn’t mean I think you’re pretty. Have I told you already that you’re self-absorbed?” I raised my eyebrows mockingly as I clicked my tongue and Mingi chuckled as he faced forward, turning on the windshield wipers.

“Yes, quite a few times, actually.” I scoffed, putting on my seatbelt when I saw Mingi doing the same.

“Just take me home.” I muttered as I turned my head and looked out the window.

“Tell me your address first.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he turned on the stereo again, this time a channel of a radio playing music in Mingi’s vintage car as he slowly drove off.

After arriving home I had taken a very long and very hot shower, letting my body stay under the stream for a long time, probably making my mother think that I was drowning. I could feel my muscles finally relaxing, the shivers completely gone from my body as I dressed into my warmest pajamas once I got out of the shower, blow-drying my hair quickly, eager to get underneath my warm blanket. Thankfully my mother wasn’t angry at all by the time I got home, she was waiting for me with two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows, and a big hug. She didn’t want to tell me where her sudden affection was coming from, but she said she knew there was something wrong, and that I could go to her the next time I’m struggling. It’s funny how she always knows what the problem is, yet I don’t want to burden her furthermore with my own dramatic emotions.

After drinking the hot chocolate and having a laugh with my mother over the comedy show she was watching in her room, I finally retreated to my own room, under the oh, so warm blanket. I couldn’t help but sigh contently and nuzzle even further into the pillow under my head, grateful to be finally able to rest. But as if the Universe was out against me tonight—and it probably was hence the shitshow today was—sleep never came to me. I was beyond tired, yet I couldn’t sleep. I felt slightly restless, as if I had to do something and I wouldn’t be able to rest until I have done it—and that was drawing. The image in my head was begging for me to be released onto a blank canvas, but I wished it could wait until tomorrow—but it couldn’t, so, with a loud sigh, I sat up and turned on my lamp. The sketchbook was bigger than the one I use as a journal since I rarely use it outside of class, but for what I wanted to draw tonight I needed the bigger one. I flipped it open to a new page and grabbed my pencil, twirling it around my fingers as I sectioned the blank paper, searching for the right angle to start the drawing.

First, I settled on drawing the outlines with faded lines, the background not the most important but since it played a part in the spacing of the drawing, I had to start with that. I went and first did the outline of the car from the inside, adding shading to show where the streetlamps couldn’t reach as the car drove down the empty road, gloomy clouds raining down on us, making the roads slippery and reducing visibility, but Mingi was an attentive and calm driver as he hummed and nodded his head to the beat of the music playing on the radio. His jaw was set and eyes focused up front, on the road, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed and lower lip quite often between his teeth as he bit into the supple flesh, his lips cherry colored and plump. His jawline long, and sharp; and cheekbones well defined, yet not too sharp; his brow bone more forward, giving him an intimidating look from the side with his eyebrows drawn together. His nose, tall, and long, and pointy—too pretty. I cleared my throat and shook my head, focusing on drawing the rest of Mingi’s features and willing my brain to shut up about whether Mingi was pretty or not—he wasn’t. I couldn’t help but draw the sunglasses he wore so hideously backwards, ruining his overall nice look, making me grimace as I darkened his hair by adding more shading to it. I illustrated the shadows falling over his face as well, his gaze slightly obscured from my view. His long fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the gemstones of his rings glinting whenever the light fell on it in a peculiar way, and I couldn’t help but recall the feeling of his skin against mine as drew the lines defining the muscle of his hands. Just as I went to draw his neck, my phone pinged, slightly startling me as it was loud. It was placed on my nightstand and I groaned as I had to lean over half of my bed to reach it. And as I took my phone into my hands, my heart skipped a beat.

I hate him: are u asleep?

I glanced at the clock and realized it would be soon midnight, I had to get this drawing done and then go to sleep as I had class early in the morning tomorrow. Besides, I didn’t want to talk to Mingi. Why was he texting me? Just because we shared a few sappy stories about ourselves doesn’t mean that we have suddenly become best friends, sharing even more life stories with each other—and most certainly Mingi had no business texting me this late at night. With a huff, I let my phone fall next to me as I continued to draw, focusing on my creation instead. Drawing the neck was easy and quick and I focused on adding little details to it instead, the silver chains he had hanging against his neck tonight, peeking through the collar of his black hoodie. I continued drawing the rest of his body, his arms and torso as well as I could as they weren’t too essential to the drawing as of now. I only wanted to draw Mingi’s profile as he drove, the darkness combined with the streetlamps casting beautiful shadows over his flawless face. But drawing Mingi, knowing that Mingi had texted me all of a sudden felt weird, and I sighed as I dropped my pencil, grabbing my phone again as I unlocked it. He had sent the message five minutes ago, that was enough time for him to fall asleep so even if I text him he’ll only see this in the morning and if he’ll answer I won’t have to text him back anymore—because I didn’t want to be texting with Mingi, at all.

Me: no. u?

As I went to close my phone, his reply came instantly, leaving me surprised. There goes my plan of Mingi being asleep and not having to talk to him tonight…

I hate him: nope, why aren’t u sleeping? Me: i can’t sleep. u?

I chewed on my bottom lip as I shuffled around for a second to be able to sit cross legged in my bed.

I hate him: yeah, same. the rain makes it hard for me to sleep…i hate rain, actually, especially the thunder.

I almost went ahead and typed back that I knew, but Mingi wasn’t supposed to know that. Mingi had no idea Yunho and I had dated back in highschool—Mingi had no idea how much I actually knew about him due to Yunho, and I intended on keeping that a secret from him. I didn’t want to wake up old ghosts in my heart which would bring pain once again.

Me: ig i’m fine with rain as long as i’m somewhere inside, but the humidity kills me. it’s the winter time i actually hate…i can’t deal with cold weather, i get easily sick…

I rubbed my forehead as I pressed send and sighed as I lowered my phone into my lap, suddenly aware of the weird butterflies in my stomach, making me almost nauseous. As I glanced back down at my phone, the three bubbles signaling that Mingi was typing back appeared, and I had to take a deep breath to settle my erratic heartbeat. What was happening? Why was my body reacting in such a weird way?

I hate him: oh, yeah, i totally get the winter thing as someone who loves dressing light. i feel like i am more myself in the summer time lol; my style rocks during the summer and then gets okay-ish during the winter, it’s sad actually…

I chuckled and smirked as I quickly typed back.

Me: why? cuz you can’t show off your biceps during the winter? I hate him: ha-ha aren’t u so funny tonight? Me: i’m always funny, mingi…

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I quickly sent the message despite Mingi still typing.

I hate him: u wish u were always funny, doll…if someone’s funny then that person is me, y/n Me: yeah, right, u wish, prince I hate him: aren’t u just in a delightful mood tonight, doll?

I scoffed but couldn’t fight off the amused smile from my lips.

Me: it’s all thanks to you, idiot I hate him: i think I prefer u calling me prince, actually… Me: u wish, idiot. I hate him: anyways, what’s your favorite season?

I raised an eyebrow as I read the text from Mingi.

Me: interesting question I hate him: well u said u didn’t like winter, so what do you like then? Me: not u, that’s for sure…

I couldn’t help but cackle at my own reply, feeling proud of myself over such little thing. I could imagine Mingi chuckling and shaking his head at it, perhaps glaring down at his phone.

Me: autumn or spring, really…not too cold nor too warm, in-between, just perfect u know?

There was a second of nothing until the bubbles popped up again, making me realize I was smiling down at my phone, so I quickly cleared my throat and got it together. There was nothing to be smiling at here.

I hate him: i get it, those seasons are really pretty…talking of pretty…do you really think i’m pretty?

I couldn’t help the loud scoff which left my lips at the same time as I rolled my eyes, very tempted to leave him on read and just go to sleep right then and there.

Me: i have already told you, mingi, i don’t think u are pretty because u a r e n ‘t, get it???

The reply was instant.

I hate him: hahahahahahaha; u are cute!

My body froze for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I reread his reply. What the fuck? Me? Cute? Yeah, sure, cute my ass—this idiot was testing my patience and kindness, once again.

Me: u’re disgusting, I’m blocking u I hate him: whatever u say, gorgeous, I know u a r e n ‘t!!!

My jaw clenched at the blatant mocking and I scoffed loudly as I looked ahead, glaring at nothing particular as my blood was boiling. He really thought I wouldn’t block him? There was nothing holding me back from doing so—suddenly the bubbles appeared again, and I looked down at my phone—just slightly curious.

I hate him: sorry if that was too much, i was just joking. i wanted to ask something all night, but i just didn’t know whether the timing was right or not or just whatever, but…are u okay? like…do you feel okay?

I gulped, my anger dissipating like it never even happened, leaving me confused. Was he now worried about me? Why would he be?

Me: i’m ok, why?

It took a little time for Mingi to answer, and it made me gulp as I read it.

I hate him: bcz your eyes were red when we met in front of the restrooms and idk…u just kinda felt off or smth…i just wanted to make sure. Me: i had a rough day, but i’m fine… thanks for asking ig… I hate him: ofc, anytime

Did he mean that? I couldn’t help but wonder. But there were so many things about Mingi that I didn’t know yet and…something changed tonight. I couldn’t completely hate him like before. The conversation we had in his car, the things he willingly shared with me were so personal and hard, yet he trusted me with them. I couldn’t help but feel good about it, thankful in a way, that despite my demeanor he still found me worthy of knowing about his past—of knowing of the backstory of said song we have listened to. I thought Mingi was all smirks and a cocky attitude, nothing in that empty and self-centered brain of his—yet he pretty much proved me wrong today, and for some reason I didn’t seem to mind too much. I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip as I looked down at my phone, realizing that it was past midnight now, I had to go to sleep.

Me: goodnight, i have classes early in the morning… I hate him: sweet dreams, y/n…see u at uni.

『I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?

'Cause I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?』

❱❱ Next chapter

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sporesgalaxy · 10 months

Text

good morning on this fine friday at 5am my time! circe clawthorne jumpscare.

I truly think this is very very close to final, moreso than usual lol. I'm quite happy with this

I really can't tell if it would be more difficult for me to try and convert this into proper paragraphs or make it a comic...

well here it is. but wait there will be more!

•••

?: [distantly] Philip?

?: [closer] Philip!

?: Philip Wittebane!!!

P: [weirded out cuz hes in the middle of the woods] What in the–

C: [running up to him excitedly] Philip!!! It’s SO good to see you again!!!

P: [backing away] See me again? Do we know each other, Miss?

C: !

C: Come on, Philip!

C: Surely the King of the Witch Hunters can recognize the Dread Witch Beezelbella when he sees her!

—

P: …

C: [smile falters nervously] ...

[Philip bolts]

C: Wh- Philip!

[He sprints through the woods as fast as he can, but weaving between the trees slows him down.]

[Circe suddenly cuts Philip off, riding on her staff]

P: [flinches away from her so violently that he falls on his ass] GAH!!

C: What are you running away for?!

P: [shielding his face, peeking at her erratically, as if afraid to look directly at her for too long] You’re not real!! You’re some cruel illusion!!

P: Sent to– to torment me, or tempt me to forfeit my soul to the devil!

P: Well it WON’T WORK!! So– gh– [flails his hands in her general direction] BEGONE!

–

C: No no no no! No tricks, I promise!

C: [REALIZES SHE IS LEVITATING] Ah!!! Er…

[she jumps off the staff and holds it behind her conspicuously, too frantic to remember to store it as a palisman]

C: [smiling nervously] I meant to save that for later!

P: [STARING]

C: Here. :) [holds out her free hand to help him up]

P: [looks somewhere btwn angry and scandalized]

[Philip pushes himself further away from her before standing up on his own. He struggles a little because he now seems reluctant to take his eyes off her. Circe looks saddened but not entirely surprised.]

C: Really, I--

[tries to gesture, but is still holding the staff in one hand, and ends up accidentally swinging it towards Philip.]

[Philip flinches again, and stares at it like it might explode.]

[Circe quickly reduces the staff to just a bird and pockets the palisman in her cloak]

C: [smiling apologetically, holding up palms to show she’s unarmed] I’d never dream of hurting you!!

C: [looking at him and still smiling but with pleading, sad eyes] You know that, don't you Philip? No matter how we've changed, I...I'll always love you.

P: [mentally recalculating] …I...see.

C: [beams] Yes!! I pinky promise! [holds out pinky for a second, but quickly drops it]

P: [less defensive body language, but still clearly a little wary] Hm…

–

C: [a bit nervier] Ah-- before we go any further, I need to re-introduce myself!!

P: [skeptical] Re-introduce?

C: [trying to stay chipper but looking more stressed] I know I look different, but it’s…it’s still me!! [she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, looking a bit uncomfortable] See?

P: The…Dread Witch Beezelbella.

C: [frustrated] Your sis– your sibling!!! You know, the one who raised you?? Who spent all those years putting gruel on the table??

P: [frowning] The one who died seven years ago.

C: Er– well– I had to...go away for a while. But I’m here now!!

C: [trying to bulldoze through it] And really hardly anything has changed!

C: I've simply learned I’m much happier being your sister! That’s not too complicated, is it? You understand, don’t you??

P: I…suppose–

C: [bulldozing again] Spectacular!!!!

C: So, you’ll call me Ci– [seems to realize something] Er…just C.C. is fine for now! [nervy smile]

[Philip gives her a perplexed look]

C: Probably easier and, er…good for an Adjustment Period! [nods to herself]

P: [mostly just baffled] …C.C.

C: [nodding more] You've got it!! Same person, new gender! None of the old name and no man words, pretty please!

P: --

C: [before Philip can reply] Great!!!

C: Now, with all THAT out of the way: It’s YOUR turn! [stepping closer to him, as though she wants to hold his hands] Tell me everything! How are you?! What’s happened while I was gone? What have you been up to??

–

P: [leaning away] Oh. Er…

P: I’m…doing very well. I… [“thinks”, bringing a finger to his chin a little too theatrically]

P: …Goodness, so much has changed, I’m not even sure where to start!

P: Really, you ought to just visit the house with me and see what’s changed for yourself. [grabs her arm and gently tugs]

C: [Withdraws, very nervous] Oh, no no no, I can't go into town.

C: You and I of all people should know how–!

C: --!

C: [Squints]

P: …Is something the matter?

C: [Squints harder]

C: ...Do NOT Witch-hunt me, Philip!!!!

P: I have no idea what you’re talking about. I'm only trying to show you--

C: Oh for goodness' sake, NO!!!! I will NOT set foot in that town EVER again!!

P: ...Then you should wait here for just a moment, and I'll return shortly– [beginning to walk away]

C: [Grabs his arm to stop him leaving] [exasperated] I am not an idiot, Philip!!!

C: [sighs] Look, I know this is going to be difficult for you to accept, but magic didn't turn me evil! I'm still just ME!

P: [MAIDENLESS STARE]

–

[Circe continues holding Philip’s arm to keep him there, and for now, he lets her.]

C: As it turns out, you DON’T have to sell your soul for magic! We were completely wrong about it!

P: [EXTREMELY skeptical] Is that so?

C: [frustrated] It’s true! I could prove it to you!

C: ...Well, I guess I can’t PROVE that I still have a soul. Not that I know of. [to herself] I wonder if there’s a spell for that…

P: [extremely sarcastic] Perhaps we ought to enlighten the entire town to the existence of this fascinating *benign sorcery*.

C: [annoyed] Really, Philip?

P: Well, why not?? Since you can *prove* that it’s harmless, let's go prove it to everybody! It would make our lives *so* much easier…

C: Stop it.

—

P: Why, no one would have to do chores ever again!

C: Philip!

P: Maybe we could all be in one big witch’s coven together--

C: ENOUGH!!

C: You've been clear enough already!!!! You still don't like magic, and you don't trust me!!!

C: [takes a deep breath] ...

[Gently, Circe lets go of Philip's arm, which she had been gripping rather tightly.]

[She watches as though expecting Philip to bolt again, but he doesn't.]

[She fidgets with her sleeve as she continues.]

C: Philip, please. Just...just listen to me for a moment.

P: [Opens mouth, looking indignant]

C: [cutting Philip off] You don't have to believe me! I know that you...probably won't. I had hoped--

C: [doesnt finish that thought, looking bitterly sad]

C: ...There's something I need to tell you, but I want to know you'll listen.

P: [scoffs] Why bother if you know I won't fall for it?

C: Because...! Because I have to do something!

C: ...Philip--

[She reaches toward him, and he shrinks back.]

P: You've been gone for nearly a decade.

C: ... [confirmingly guilty face]

P: It took you that long to-- to bother telling me anything?!

P: Why in the hell would I want to believe that?!

—–

P: How could I?!

P: How could I possibly believe that you’d *vanish without a trace,*

P: and then– *reappear out of thin air,* just because-- what, the whim finally struck you???

C: No--! It-- it wasn't a whim, Philip, I would never--!

P: [pulling at his hair] AGH!! Then where have you *been??!!!* Why come back *now??!*

C: I-- it's difficult to explain--

P: I spent YEARS trying to hunt down that *witch*–!

[Circe grimacing/wincing rxn shot]

P: [gesticulating wildly] YEARS hopelessly wondering what might’ve become of you!!!!!

P: I WASTED my LIFE searching for answers!!!!

P: Of course I don't want to believe this!! That you could have come back this whole time, but-- [voice breaking]

P: ...But you chose not to.

–

C: 😟

P: [still angry, but quieter now] And what a cruel joke it would be, for you to finally be here.

P: [hand gravitating towards knife on belt] After I’d finally managed to give *up* on you.

[Circe wants to hug him. She wishes he were still small enough that she could pick him up and squeeze him with all her might. But she thinks better of it. No matter how much she loved Philip, she couldn't afford to trust him right now.]

[Philip's hand is hovering over the spot where Circe knows his knife sheath to be. She feels her heart break a little more.]

[She steadily meets his eyes and keeps her hands at her sides, ready to pull out her staff if necessary. She won't be able to hurt him the way he's apparently resolved to hurt her, but she could run away.]

[She had desperately hoped that Gravesfield's claws wouldn't be sunken so deeply into him, but she knew what it took to survive there. And he had been forced to survive it even longer than her.]

C: ...I’m sorry, Philip.

P: ...

C: I'm sorry for leaving you in Gravesfield alone.

C: I didn't think I had a choice.

[Circe shifts her weight uncomfortably. It feels wrong, measuring how she speaks to Philip, her brother, the person who knew her better than anyone not too long ago. But he isn't the only one she's protecting anymore.]

C: ...truthfully, I…

[It feels loathesome to admit after so many years of spending so much of her energy hiding it.]

C: …I thought you would be better off without me.

—

P: [genuine confusion] ...What?

C: You're a genius, Philip. I knew you could do anything you put your mind to. Make a real future for yourself.

C: But I-- I could barely even keep us fed until we--

C: [looking terribly guilty] ...started working together.

C: I thought that once you could take care of yourself...

C: You could have a normal, happy life. Without me.

P: [pissed] And how do you know that you couldn't be a part of it!? You ran away before you even tried!!

C: I tried for years!! All my trying ever did was put targets on our backs!!!

C: [bitterly] Because I couldn't hold down any job but the most dangerous in Gravesfield.

---

P: What targets?! We were heroes!

P: If you had just stayed, if you had never listened to that witch, we still would be!!

P: Did she say I'd be better off without you?! Is that how she convinced you to leave?!

C: [low, serious] No.

C: I... [ashamed] ...I made up my mind before I met Evelyn.

C: I had already decided you were better off without me.

C: [intense] She's the reason I'm still here to discuss it with you.

P: [shocked, unsettled, doesn't want to process that]

P: That...that can't be true! Everything was fine until she came along!! This was all her fault!!

P: You'd still be normal if it weren't for her!!!

C: [angry on Evelyn's behalf] No!!! I was never normal!!!!

C: And you were the only person who couldn't seem to tell!!!

C: [tearing up] It was going to get us both killed, sooner or later!!!

C: *I* was going to get us killed, because I'm like this!! Because *I* can't live a normal life!!

C: I wanted to protect you. To make your life easier than mine had been, but--

P: You were protecting me just fine before you ran away!!!

P: And what's this nonsense about us getting killed?! We were heroes! We saved the whole town from evil!

C: We were never heroes! We weren't saving anyone!

C: We punished people who didn't fit in!

P: Didn't "fit in??"

P: We punished monsters!! Demons who tortured our neighbors!!

P: Any one of those witches would have sacrificed all of Gravesfield to the Devil had we not stopped them!!

C: And what about us, Philip?!

C: Is there anyone in Gravesfield we wouldn't have sacrificed, had the court willed it?!!

C: [crying] We were such hypocrites!

C: The suspicion, the accusations-- it was exactly the way they used to treat us!! We were outsiders, too!!

P: [falters. that kinda gets to him but he wants to pretend it didnt]

C: [miserable] I justified so many awful things to myself. To you.

C: All because I was too scared to see the truth.

C: And once I finally did...I was too gutless to ask you to face it.

C: We were never any better than anyone else.

C: All of it...

C: It was just murder.

P: [not as much conviction] Don't be ridiculous--!

C: Don't be naive!!

P: ...

C: ...

C: ...I am truly sorry, Philip.

C: I'm sorry that I got us into this mess.

C: I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you like I was supposed to.

C: I was rash. And stupid. But I only ever wanted to keep you safe.

C: ...I still want you to be safe. I'd hoped you could understand, but...

C: [difficult for her to give up on him] ...if you refuse to listen...there's nothing that I can do.

P: [trying to not want it to be real] ...

[Philip looks conflicted, frustrated, trying to find his anger and righteousness again]

P: I-- rrgh!! You're impossible!!!

[He begins to walk in one direction, pulling at his hair, then suddenly turns on his heel and walks the other way again]

P: [exasperated, tring to convince himself] Literally! This is-- this is all impossible...!

[He buries his face in his hands and plops down on a log with an angry grunt]

[Circe watches him, wondering what he’s thinking now.]

[After he just sits there with his face in his hands for a moment, she slowly approaches and sits carefully next to him.]

P: [he is resting his elbows on his legs. He clasps his hands, uncovering his face, forehead against his intertwined fists.]

P: ...

[shot of Circe looking at him sadly]

–

C: …Are you happy in Gravesfield?

P: [Hands still clasped, his eyes open, looking into the woods] …

C: Philip?

P: [flatly] That doesn’t matter.

C: [Leaning forward, trying to look in his eyes] …It matters to *me*…

[Philip unclasps his hands but remains hunched over. He instead holds his elbows, which still rest on his legs. Does not look at Circe.]

P: [cold] So you say.

[Circe shrinks back]

[the two sit in silence for a moment. Birds chirp, and the bare tree branches sway in the breeze above them.]

–

C: [quietly] …are the trials as bad as they used to be?

P: …

P: [even tone] Less frequent.

C: [hopeful] That’s good.

P: … [furrows his eyebrows]

C: Do you still–

P: Yes.

C: [saddened] …

P: I am protecting people.

P: I’ve prevented what happened to you from happening again a dozen times over.

[Circe pales. Philip still is not looking at her.]

P: [clearly bitter about something] I’m *careful.* [seeming more vexed than proud] I’ve done more research than *anyone.*

C: [examining his face] …Research?

P: …

C: [dawning ] Do they *understand* that’s what your doing?

P: [intensely, looking only at the ground] It doesn’t matter. I can prove it.

C: [scared] Philip, are you in danger?

P: [breaks a twig off a branch on the fallen log with his left hand] [curtly] *No.*

P: [looks annoyed at the stick momentarily. passes it to his right hand] Because *I* am not a witch.

P: [slightly hesitant] …obviously.

—-

[Philip starts doodling in the dirt with the twig]

C: [losing patience with his stubborness] Do you honestly still believe that only real witches get accused? Get *punished?*

P: [stops drawing. gives her an angry sideways glance. then glares at the dirt again] …

P: …*Yes.*

P: As long as you do it *correctly.*

C: [furrows eyebrows] ……

[Philip resumes, scratching the dirt more forcefully.]

C: But–

P: Witches die because they are born doomed.

[as he says “doomed,” Philip finishes drawing The Belos Mask with a final, forceful scratch]

C: That’s what we were *told*. That doesn’t mean it’s true.

[Circe looks at Philip, expression somewhere between grim and pleading, but he won’t look up from his sketch]

——

P: [darkly] What does that mean for you, then?

[Circe is taken off-guard]

P: Do your witch-friends know what you used to do?

P: Or are you lying to them, too?

C: I–!

C: …

C: [quieter] …Not all of them know.

P: [snidely] Hmph.

C: [with a bit more conviction] But the ones that *do* know…

C: They know that I was scared. And trying to keep us safe.

C: There are people who understand that I truly thought I was doing the right thing.

C: [guilt] That I would give anything to undo it now…

C: [focusing on Philip again] They trust me, and love me, even though I’ve made…terrible mistakes. Even though I’ll *always* make mistakes.

C: [trying REALLY hard to get through to Philip] *Gravesfield isn’t all there is.*

P: …

[Philip scratches out the doodle forcefully.]

P: [unhappily] Good for you.

—-

[a prolonged beat of silence, save Philip’s stick scraping against the ground as he scribbles slowly, randomly on the spot where the doodle used to be]

C: ...If you want–

[suddenly, Philip throws his stick to the ground and turns to Circe]

P: [frustrated noise] Would you just get this over with already?!

C: [taken aback] What?

P: For Christ's sake, I don’t care what you want anymore!! Just take it!!!

P: You win! Enough with this awful vision!!

C: [baffled] Wha–! I-I’m not–! You still don’t believe that I’m real?!

——-

P: You *can’t* be!

P: [breaking a little] I only *want* you to be real!

P: I *want* you to be *alive*!

P: I don’t *want* to be *alone* any longer!!

P: But you insist on dragging out this awful charade!!

P: [becoming more desperate than angry] Why can’t you just lie to me?!

P: Tell me that you never wanted to leave at all!! That you're back for good! That nothing’s changed!!

P: *Something*– *anything* that’s actually easy to go along with!!! Isn't that what you're supposed to do?!

[Circe looks hurt]

P: Don't I even get to die thinking that I could be reunited with– with you?!

P: [losing steam] …What could you possibly want that you haven’t had the chance to take from me already…?

[a beat. Circe’s expression has closed off considerably. Philip rubs his face for a moment, then looks up again.]

P: Please. Get it over with. Kill me, or whatever it is you came here to do.

P: Or for God’s sake leave me be.

[wide shot of them sitting in unhappy silence]

——

C: [very quietly] …Alright.

[Circe stands, brushes her skirt off. Philip remains sitting, not looking at her]

C: I suppose I’ve done all that I can, then.

P: …

C: I won’t disturb you again.

P: …….

C: I’m still thankful that I could see you one last time.

P: ………..

C: [trying to keep composed] Please…stay safe. Take care of yourself.

P: ……………..

—

C: I love you.

P: …………… … …

C: [offscreen] Goodbye, Philip.

[she walks away]

[a beat passes]

[Philips resolve breaks. As he looks up–]

P: Ca– C.C., I–

[–he realizes he is alone again.]

P: ….

P: [slowly, he stands. brushes his jacket off. walks away.]

#circe clawthorne #toh #suicide mention #<- still just implicative but closer to explicitly referenced now #ohhh they both have so many problems. yippee!!!!

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thewritingofspencerrose · 4 months

Text

Risky Romance: A Series

A Helping Hand

maximilian verstappen I don't know what to wear for this dinner

giselle wolff bring three options to danny's and my room and we'll help you pick! he's should be out of the shower any minute

maximilian verstappen ok be down in five

"Babe! Hurry up, Max needs help picking an outfit," I call out, holding my robe tighter to my body as I move to the door, not nearly ready myself. Pulling open the door, I can't help but smile at the sight in front of me.

Max Verstappen is not a man that gets clearly nervous, but he's also a man who's eyes you can read.

And the concept of this dinner has him anxious.

"Max, this isn't life or death. It's dinner with my parents, Lewis, George, Carmen and Mick. There's no reason to be worried," I try to sooth, but his brows furrow, the little crinkly look he gets when he's uncomfortable clear as day.

"I'm not worried, I just needed a second opinion," He denies, holding up the hangers in his hand as if this makes him more believable.

"Whatever you say lion boy, come on in, Dan's just finishing in the shower and I was just looking for what we should wear," I explain, taking his free hand and pulling in him, the door shutting behind us just as I push him into sitting on the end of the bed. "What are your options?"

He holds out the shirts, this time in offering, and I take them, letting go of the sides of my robe and letting it open slightly as I hold the shirts in front of myself. With how they're held they are blocking any sight of my bra and panties, my attempt to be sure I don't cross a line Max won't be comfortable with, but with how intensely Max is staring at me, almost trying to set fire to the shirts that are blocking his path.

"Okay, so I'm going to set aside the Redbull polo because, seriously?" I can't help but ask, throwing the shirt at him and making him chuckle at my commentary.

"What are you doing baby?" Danny's voice rings in my ear, just as his body heat becomes apparent behind me, hands finding my hips and lips finding the crown of my head. He pulls away in a robe of his own, walking over to Max and patting him on the shoulder, taking a seat beside him. "Good to see you could make it."

"Almost changed my mind when I didn't know what to wear, but I texted Elle and now I'm here," is Max's response, his eyes drifting over Danny's body before coming back to meet my own, his cheeks tinging pink at being caught.

"Don't worry, you're in great hands, Gigi picks out all my outfits and I'd like to think I always look great," Dan assures, standing promptly to grab the floral dress I had put aside, the tangerine, burnt orange and white flowers set on a sage base, the sage being the same color as Danny's shirt we had chosen earlier.

"Dan you're a genius," I giggle excitedly, looking between the confused Australian who still holds our outfits, an even more confused Dutchman looking with his eyebrows meeting his hair. "Max, how do you feel about matching us?"

"Matching... the two of you?" He asks, pointing between Dan and I slowly as Danny makes his way closer, laying my dress on the bed above my heels for when I'm ready.

"Well, in a way," Is my attempt at backtracking in how direct I just was, "You'd just be wearing your white button up," I explain, holding it in front of the baby blue one that was his other option. "And it would sort of look like we planned it, since both you and Danny would be wearing a shirt that matches an aspect of my dress."

And you can see the smile slowly start to come to his face.

"Yeah, that'd be ok," He agrees, making my smile widen if even possible.

"Okay, put this on," I instruct, handing over his shirt back into his hands, patting his chest before turning to Dan, "Baby, can I have my dress?"

"Do you really need it?" He asks with a smirk, and I can hear Max cough in shock from beside me.

"Daniel," My tone is scolding although both men know I'd never mean it. "Dress, please."

"Yes ma'am," He relents, although still with a cocky smile as he hands it over, "Are you going to change in here?"

The question makes me pause, because ever since Danny and I got together, more accurately slept together, we've felt plenty comfortable changing in front of one another. But Max is in here, and the suggestion of changing with him in here should make us all uncomfortable, except for the fact that it feels so normal for him to be in here, getting ready with us.

"It's your room, I can step out," Max offers, sensing my hesitation.

It's not that I'm uncomfortable, it's that I don't want him to be. While I've been lose about keeping my robe shut, it only has showed a sliver, not my whole body.

"Or you can just change," Is his next offer, a small smirk coming to his face. "I'll try not to look."

I can't help the blush that rises to my cheeks, or the heat settling in my stomach as I realize both of them are watching me. Dan has made some progress, managing to get his jeans on in the time Max and I took in deciding his shirt.

"Fine. But you two need to get ready if we're going to be on time."

"Babe," Danny begins, taking his shirt off the hanger as Max reaches for the hem of his shirt, it rising slowly in his pull over his head, revealing just how gorgeous he continues to be. "The restaurant is in the hotel, we're putting our shirts on and all you need if your dress and heels. We'll be on time."

I nod, because he's right, there really is no concern on time. So I pull my robe off my shoulders, turning around as it falls to take my dress off the hanger. The robe hits the floor as I have the zipper undone, turning around slowly to find the eyes of both boys on my body.

"Very discrete, boys," I can't help but tease, their eyes dropping down to their buttons in a near sync that makes me chuckle. Men.

Pulling my dress up over my hips, I slip the straps over my shoulders before turning my back to the boys once more. "Can one of you zip me up?"

There's a pause, but when I feel the heat of a hand on my hip, another hand slowly pulling my zipper up I don't question that it's Dan.

Until the person leans into my ear, warm lips nearly touching my ear as he says, "Let's get to that dinner, right schat?"

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 #max verstappen x oc x daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #maxiel x oc #max verstappen x oc #toto wolff's daughter oc #Wolff!Daughter OC

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aqours · 6 months

Text

ok i REAAAAAALLY need to make a dedicated sideblog for this shit now i realize bc this game is gonna fucking fully get me dragged into this discourse so i'm gonna make an active effort to stop putting these on main, but i can't see myself saying more beyond this in general but ANYWAAAAYS

so i recently made this post about the cognitive dissonance regarding this game and people using fucking CALL OF DUTY a game that is more or less a recruitment drive to make the US military look cool and try to get kids to join up and that GTA's wanted system is actually NOT rewarding you or something to try to play a dick measuring contest with coffin but this interaction really interested me and i wanna talk about it bc i just blocked them after they refused to answer the last question but this is a very specific kind of gaslighting tactic i'm very familiar with from my own days as an anti

i think p much all of us who are used to engaging with this discourse are used to like y'know, being called awful horrible disgusting things. this is not the first time some fucking weird random person came onto my content asking me if i was a kid didler or wanted to fuck my brother. ain't gonna be anywhere near the last time either folks, but i and Lord God knows that's not the case so i don't care what a rando on the internet says but here's the thing: you can't "win" this, but they want to win it. no matter what you say you are the absolute worst kind of dreg of society that should be shot behind a barn and no amount of anything would work. if i actually pulled a list of sourced all that would have happened was they would've doubled down on calling me an inc*s*ious p*d* that I would be willing to use articles probably written by "people like me." because YOU don't care about "winning" this argument, you just wanna get the facts out on your end. it's a catch-22 folks, nothing you say will get you out of it!

i started by calling them a karen, they immediately escalated the living FUCK out of it and tried to trap me in this catch-22 to keep feeling morally superior to me. me saying i don't have such desires and never will isn't enough because i like this game. nothing but me renouncing it will change it.

but here's the thing about antis- they fucking HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE it when you turn it on them. look at the difference. look at the difference between they were the one throwing the catch-22 at me vs. the other way around. what about you? you just came onto my post to harass me, so i'll say it back. how about you? are you just accusing me of these horrible things because you are projecting your thoughts on me? you told me to get a therapist: so maybe you're the one that needs help if so!

violent video games must encourage violence, riiiiight? and you support it because it's violent. Game of Thrones had in*e*t in it so everyone who likes it also is the same. and Demon Slayer, where the pfp is from is violent, so you support it. the main protag's little sister also gets a superpowered form where she gets physically older and a tits out kinda look. so clearly YOU want to see your sister in the same way, right?

and it went as expected. you can see the tone going from smug jerking off with a shit-eating grin to just annoyed while smelling their own farts like it's a rose. and the moment i started doing the same uh i got NO fucking answers and they stormed off. i waited half an hour for a response before blocking them

so why am i typing up this walltext? because i used to be an anti. i fucking guarantee you i would've called everyone who liked this game [insert horrible things] like 7-9 years ago. so let me tell you, you know what pisses off antis more than anything? more than ANYTHING? turning this catch-22 bullshit on them. this is the only way you can end this miserable conversation without blocking them.

it's all one-sided bullshit and the moment you turn it on an anti it IMMEDIATLY shuts it down. this fucker KNEW the answer and you know it. so i wanted to share that, if you ever struggle with this shit: well the best thing you can do is block them and to give a fuck about winning their imaginary argument, but this is the only way to make the headache end otherwise. just throw the catch-22 right back and that's the end. thanks for reading!

#starposts #the coffin of andy and leyley #coffin of andy and leyley #proship #comship #long post #anti anti #discourse cw #ok i REALLY do want this shit off my main blog though i'm gonna start using a sideblog probably

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chaifootsteps · 4 months

Note

Armchair Psychology Anon here (not a real Psych just seeing patterns)

I uh... hmm.

So Lilith/Eve is the true villian, wanting to destroy the relationship of Charlie and Lucifer?

Of course it is. (If true).

And her liking these tweets of Luci x Lilith lately makes a whole lot more sense. The fans are most likely not going to take this well if this leak is true. Also, it makes sense that her trading card crops out her face, gives her no last name, and makes her look sinister as hell. She also still has not yet had her VA revealed and no real good look at her.

I just... it's interesting as well that Alastor is secretly sent to protect Charlie. (Male character, too, of course. And seeing someone say he's also a father figure now makes sense as well.) I always liked the idea that he was secretly going to turn on the Hotel and Charlie (or just leaves) and be an obvious hidden antagonist. And it's interesting that Charlie DOES end up forgiving her. Viv mentioned spending time with her mom over the holiday, so it's clear that perhaps that they do have some sort of civil relationship at the very least.

And of course, the Root of Evil is a woman.

Chai, I say this as nicely as possible, especially after carefully analyzing and seeing the complaints of HB as a whole, and that recent interview with Brandon asking about how women are written, and about Ghostfuckers (whilst also knowing about the leaks of it). Also likes silly tweets about being depressed, and most of her main cast of Helluva consists of depressed characters. Especially Stolas (who is also rich, and Vuv defends like crazy (He's her self insert/her father rolled into one character). That one is not too hard to see. Most people are depressed these days (myself included).

Vivienne needs therapy.

She needs it if she hasn't already been getting it.

I understand that writing out trauma is therapeutic. I have author friends who do it. I do it myself. But I also see my own therapist every week.

She clearly hates women. She loves her own father and incorporates loving father/daughter relationships into her own work and clearly does not let anything get in the way of that.

That's why the main character is allowed to be woman. Because it's Viv and the relationship with her own father. Charlie is also bi... which Viv is apparently too.

Something else I've noticed is older bad dads.

Which is ironic because God punishes Lucifer (his son) and Luci wants to be good for Charlie.

I think it's quite possible that maybe her grandfather was not as kind to her father, as her father is to her. See Crimson to Moxxie (it can be assumed Moxxie wants children and would be a loving father). See Paimon to Stolas, and Cash to Blitzo.

But then, going down the line of the newer fathers being better to their daughters. Stolas tries with Octavia (doesn't try very well), Blitz REALLY tries with Loona, Millie's dad seems to have a healthy relationship with her. Perhaps her father has shared with her that his relationship with his dad wasn't great and that he wanted to be a better father to her and her sisters. And whatever her mother did to her/her father...yikes.

Her latest IG post also does mention being depressed about "plans changing" and that food from her dad helps.

I just... wow. Viv can be so easily read. She really doesn't leave anything hidden. And she can't stop herself from writing out her truth.

And that's not going to go over with the fans or public at all, I'm sure of it.

It is also interesting to have a male voicing Katie Killjoy. Hmm. Not that I have a problem with men voicing women, but when it comes to Viv... I don't have a good feeling about it. I've also noticed Brandon seeming a bit miserable in his IG posts and his HH ones don't seem very excited either.

I think his declining views on his own channel other than the 2 HB ones say a lot. Especially when he's clearly trying to placate Viv by saying he's "one of the worst writers of HB".

Chai... oof. I don't know what else to say. We'll just see what comes next.

Thank you for all of this, Armchair Psychology Anon. Your writeups are always fascinating to read, in a haunting sort of way.

I don't know what's going on in Viv's personal life and family history, but all this is pointing to something that demands a really good therapist. Viv being an awful person doesn't negate that.

#Anonymous #armchair psychology anon #viv stuff #vivziepop critical #actual blog post

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sbg-loving-pierog · 10 days

Text

Let's talk about The Hernandez Family!

and why the whole situation with Tyler is actually a good thing to happen.

(‼️Spoilers for episodes 43-51‼️)

You've been warned...

Starting off with ep. 43 when we see Mariana Hernandez - Taylor and Tyler's mother - for the first time.

You can see the tension rising when she mentions the twin's father, which at the time is suspicious but since it goes unexplained it doesn't bring much of our attention until

Back then we couldn't confirm what that means, not until ep. 48 and Tyler's flashbacks. Now we know that the twins' father is dead, so that tells us that their mother doesn't seem to remember about that. To say more, she's CONVINCED that he's still alive because even when the situation points to him not being with them anymore, she still only finds it a bit weird but doesn't seem to remember the truth.

Either she doesn't want to remember it, or it's a part of some kind of medical, mental condition, but something that helps keep up this Delusion is that, as we know, after the death of Ethan Hernandez, Tyler took over his responsibilities.

Mariana never had to take over anything her husband did for the family, she didn't feel the weight that fell on them after his passing. All "thanks" to Tyler.

And for some reason her kids try to keep up this facade with distracting her from thinking about their father before she remembers anything

And they succeed, bringing them to the point when they are the ones that take care of her, instead of it being the other way around, as it should. She probably still does her share of responsibilities a parent should have (a part she was doing before too, when Ethan was alive) but the other half AND the mental burden is all on Tyler and Taylor.

But something changes in ep. 51

When Tyler is "injured", her first instinct is to call her husband - and his father - which is understandable, you wouldn't really think logically in a situation like that, but for Mariana, this is when the truth and logic finally hits her

She reminds herself that she can't call Ethan for help and you can clearly see that she's about to panic

But then Taylor comes in, and changes her mother's thinking of "I'm on my own, what do I even do?" To "I have others to care for, I'll think about myself later".

You can almost hear her thoughts saying "You're their mother. Act like it".

This is the moment she realizes that:

1. She can't depend on Ethan anymore

2. Tyler won't always be there to help her

3. She has to be strong for her kids because she should be. Because it's her responsibility that she's been neglecting... or just wasn't able to bring to life for WAY too long

After Tyler wakes up and the group leaves the hospital, it's said that his mom stayed there with him. I think both the time when Taylor needed her support and the time they spent together with Tyler when she was the one caring for him for a change will normalize their family situation. It will help Mariana realize that Tyler was and is still just a kid, and was never ready to take over his father's "position" in caring for her and Taylor, even if he did it because he had to.

That's what I think anyways, I'm open to discussion though ^^ and well, now as they're separated, their relationship will either freeze for a moment, or change again and hopefully it'll become even stronger after another reunion :)

#sbg #sbg (webtoon)#sbg taylor #sbg tyler #sbg mariana #school bus graveyard #taylor hernandez #tyler hernandez #ethan hernandez #mariana hernandez

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emerald-truth · 8 months

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Yesterday I watched Data's Day and it made me cry and I need to talk about it.

First of all I love that it was lowkey a slice of life episode? Like Data is just describing his normal day and some crazy stuff happens as usual on the Enterprise but it's also just like. The crew hanging out. I especially love his conversation with Worf about what wedding present to buy because it's just so normal? Everyday? And just seeing his casual friendships with everyone? And they all love each other? I love the whole tng crew so much.

Anyway, what made me really emotional was how much I related to Data as an autistic person and I know people talk about this all the time but I'M GONNA TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN FOR MYSELF.

Right in the beginning of the episode he talks about how he used to have trouble maintaining friendships but now that he's become better at predicting other people's emotions he's become able to form friendships. And just. The whole ordeal of having to take years and years to LEARN TO MAKE FRIENDS when it seems to come so naturally to everyone else, when it seems like something that should just be easy. Yeah. But then also the absolute joy when you succeed! When you think ah yes I've finally learned to understand others enough, to do the correct analyses, to make the correct predictions, I can finally make friends! And Data is so pleased with himself just like I have been the past couple years. And the thing is! He makes mistakes still in predicting emotions! But his friends forgive him and help him understand! And it's just so??? Oh my god the happiness that comes with being accepted despite your flaws, despite who you are and what you can't change about yourself. With being reminded that you still deserve friendship and a special place in people's lives even when you make mistakes. Because even though he upsets Keiko by trying to change her mind about the wedding she forgives him and still lets him act as "the father of the bride" because she still loves him! Everyone does! Because he's so sincere! Oh my god I love Data so much-

But the thing that made me cry was one little moment when they suddenly redirect their course towards the neutral zone and Data says it's a good thing his duties can't be interrupted by emotions such as the uneasiness he might feel about such a change to the course. While clearly exhibiting signs of being nervous like tapping his fingers and glancing behind himself at the drivers. And this is something about my experience of autism that I hardly ever see in fiction. Not only do I have trouble understanding the feelings of others, I have trouble identifying MY OWN FEELINGS. I have low body awareness so instead of feeling emotions in my body I have to engage with them intellectually which means I often can't tell that I'm experiencing an emotion even when people around me can. I saw another post a month or so ago talking about how Data probably has similar troubles because his emotions don't manifest physically the way they do for humans. And just. I've spent so long feeling like and being accused of being an unemotional person because I don't feel my emotions the way other people do, so to see this implication that Data DOES have emotions even when he himself doesn't always notice them is so lovely. Just because he or I don't always feel emotions physically, and must understand them intellectually, doesn't mean we are uncaring. It just means so much to see a character who thinks of himself as emotionless be portrayed as so gentle, kind, and loved.

And then the end of the episode- Data says he believes humanity is not an inherent quality but a way of thinking and something he can achieve. And that's so reassuring. Even if I'm not human now, maybe someday I will be. And even if I'm not human, even if I'm never human, I can still be good, I can still feel, I can still make friends, I can still be like Data.

#data soong #star trek #star trek tng

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deadmomjokes · 7 months

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as a teacher, hearing about the way you communicate so clearly and thoroughly with your child is so inspiring. I wish more people had resources on how to communicate with kids like you do.

I'm very bad at taking compliments, so I'll just say "Thank you" and also qualify that she makes it pretty easy. She's very smart and has always, from day one basically, needed to know the reasons behind everything. In other circumstances, she would probably be called "stubborn" or "defiant." But the thing is, I remember my own "stubbornness" growing up, and it was almost always the result of me not understanding why things were the way they were. From a young age, I hated with a burning passion the "Because I said so" thing. So I determined that I didn't want to do that when/if I had kids of my own.

My daughter is very bright and curious and makes that easy for me. Her "why" phase was/is pretty specific, which is helpful in keeping ahead of the frustration-induced rage-meltdowns. (Not all of them, of course, because some concepts are really hard to grasp even as an adult, let alone when you're 4 years old and everything Feels Too Big.)

But I also made a conscious effort to start practicing early, before she could talk or push back on a lot of stuff. It felt so weird and silly at first, but I basically narrated everything I did with/around her, and put a reason for it. So a trip to the store sounded like this:

"We made it to the store to get our groceries, so we have yummy food to eat. Let's go inside and get a buggy--that's where we'll put all the things we get, because we can't carry them all in just our hands. I'm going to put you in the buggy, too, right here in this seat, that way you can see what's going on but I have both my hands to push the buggy and grab the things we need. Here, look, some bananas! Let's get some of those because you love to eat them. Oh, no, sorry baby, we can't eat them right now. This stuff isn't ours until we pay for it at the very end-- that's the part with the beep-beeper and the bags. When we get home we can have some of the bananas, because then they are our bananas." Etc, etc, on and on.

People looked at me like I was nuts. It felt a little nuts at times, especially before she could respond verbally. But it worked. It built a habit for me to give a reason for why I'm doing things, or making her do things. More importantly, I feel like, it made me stop and question when I didn't have a good reason for my answers or behaviors. Like if she comes up and asks to blow bubbles outside, and I go, "No baby, not right now," she can be like "why not?" And I have to look at myself and my reasoning. Is it because I'm actually busy or we're genuinely about to do something else that precludes the 5 minutes it'd take to do bubbles? Or is it because I just don't feel like it? It's not fair for "I don't feel like it" to supersede her desires for connection and entertainment all the time. (Sometimes you're just worn out and don't have the bandwidth for it, and that's valid. Parents are people too! But it can't be all the time, yk?) So if I don't have a good reason why not, I let her know that I thought about it more and changed my mind, and off we go to blow bubbles.

I also heard the advice, idk where or when, that you need to practice on your children what you want from them. So if I want my child to be kind, I have to be kind to her, in ways that she can see and appreciate. If I want her to know it's okay to change your mind, I have to point out when that happens for me, like in the above bubbles example. If I want her to be a decent human being who respects others, is empathetic, appreciates the efforts of others, speaks kindly, thinks about how her actions impact those around her, etc... You get the idea. It starts with me. And I try to consciously remind myself of that fact.

It's not always easy, because kids aren't always rational (but to be fair, neither are adults lol). And what is rational to a 4 year old is not always the same as what is rational to me, the adult with almost 3 decades of experience more than her. So sometimes it's like explaining to the wind why it ought to blow in a different direction. But the longer I get to know her, the more I'm able to pick up on the way she sees things, her personal defaults, the way she talks around concepts she's not sure about, etc. It's part of what's cool about getting to be her parent. I get such a close-up view of this little person becoming a little person, and it makes me stop and think about things I have taken for granted for a long time.

I'm rambling again, but I have developed a lot of Strong Feelings about the way kids are treated and looked at in general, and a lot of determination to do better for the kids I get the privilege of loving.

#parenting #kids #adventures of bean #asks

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corviiids · 6 days

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(inspired by your earlier post about if L accused Sayu of being Kira) How do you think an au where Sayu got the death note would play out?

amazing question. i wrote so much more than i thought i was going to im so sorry. tl;dr i don't think the ultimate plot would change much but the beginning would sure be interesting.

i think if sayu found the death note, she would tell light before anyone else. he's clearly her most trusted confidant. light would tell her not to worry because it's clearly some chain letter shit but because she's clearly frightened of it he'd offer to hold it for her and get rid of it so she doesn't have to think about it.

now whether ownership officially passes to light at this point might depend on the specific wording they use. if light says 'hold onto it for you' or something to that effect it would likely just be sublet to light (wording from rule 13) - for our purposes im inclined to go with this version of events but i note the rules are really ambiguous on what the specific requirements and conditions are regarding ownership.

(i keep wanting to go through and do a full review of all the manga rules from like. almost like a statutory interpretation kind of lens but that's a stupid project i need to convince myself out of lmfao jesus)

hey this got really long and complicated. i thought it was going to be simple but now im going through branching possibilities literally for the sole purpose of analysing the rules so let's put the rest under the cut. click for me citing specific death note rules in the middle of my work day i guess GOD. you can also scroll to the bottom if you want to skip me talking about death note rules and just see my projected course of events

the issue of ownership actually doesn't matter that much at this point for reasons we will see but might change things a little bit down the road (see below re: ryuk and discussion of rule 47). let's go with the sublet thing for now and assume sayu is still the owner of the notebook but light is holding it.

light keeps the book, sayu tries not to think about it and fails. light can't resist testing it without sayu's knowledge. light meets ryuk. i note rule 13 states the death god will stay with the owner of the note. since light and sayu are in the same household (ie geographic distance is not an issue) and ryuk would find light more interesting, it's a coin flip which person he'd show up to (probably depends on the degree to which shinigami are bound by their rules which i don't have access to and can't review lol). let's assume for now that ryuk meets light first just for ease, but i will come back to this later because i actually prefer him showing up to sayu first while light is holding the notebook.

in the version where light meets ryuk first, then depending how forthcoming ryuk is with information, either sayu sees ryuk before light realises that's a risk or light realises sayu will see ryuk before she actually does. im leaning towards the latter because in canon light finds out in this order:

people who don't have the note can't see ryuk (when his mother comes into the room during their first meeting)

people who have touched the note CAN see ryuk (when sayu comes into the room asking for help with homework some days later)

so in this au, between events 1 and 2, light would realise that since sayu has touched and owns the note, she'll be able to see ryuk. i think light at this point would ask ryuk if there's any way to undo that effect at which point ryuk should inform light that forfeiting the note will allow sayu to stop seeing ryuk.

ok, now let's backtrack to before and say instead of light, ryuk shows up to sayu first. ryuk appears, sayu screams, ryuk informs sayu that light has used the note. light comes running because sayu screamed. light again in this timeline immediately demands to know how to get sayu out of this situation, partially because she's freaking out and partially because he's already pondering the possibilities and absolutely needs sayu not to know about any of this. she is already hysterical because hey, did this monster just say that her big brother killed someone?

ok here's where i got into a rabbithole digging through the rules for a loophole because i found a problem. (it's ok, i found one.)

we know a death note can pass from person to person because it happens in canon multiple times. we also know that losing the death note will erase your memory of the note (rule 22). where it gets interesting is that rule 47 provides that you will only lose your memories of the death note if you actually used it:

[...] You will not lose memory of the Death Note, for example, if you merely owned it and had not written anyone's name. [...]

you won't be able to see the shinigami anymore, but you'll still remember the notebook. not good enough for light - he needs sayu to forget completely or she'll be traumatised and he'll be compromised, especially because now she knows he used the notebook which makes her a liability. light now has two thoughts

he could ask sayu to kill one person using the notebook and then forfeit it so she doesn't remember the crime and can be free of the notebook forever, or

see if the shinigami can offer any other options.

1 is an interesting place for light's mind to go, but he goes with option 2 first because sayu looks like she's going to have a panic attack. luckily, there is another option, and we know ryuk is aware of it because of the events of the a-Kira story - this is lucky because even if a rule existed there's no guarantee that the shinigami know about it as ryuk demonstrates multiple times. (they also don't need to tell their human any of the rules at all - rule 4.) lmao. anyway im talking about rule 67:

Regarding the memories mentioned in Rule XLVII, the owner can have their memories of the Death Note erased if they so desire.

(well, it's more like 67.1, because there are three completely unrelated sub-rules in this rule. kind of justified because we know rule 67 was a last-minute amendment but seriously who fucking drafted these rules in the shinigami world i'd like a word)

under rule 67, sayu could forfeit the death note and willingly have her memories erased without needing to kill anyone. light asks sayu to do this and promises he won't kill anyone else with the book and that he'll burn it as soon as she's forfeited her memories.

sayu trusts light so much that she does not ask why he doesn't just burn it now. she forfeits the book and forgets the death note ever existed.

i think from that point everything else goes the same way it does in canon.

tl;dr, again - my projected course of events, preferencing the branches i personally find most likely:

sayu finds the death note

sayu tells light about it

sayu sublets the death note to light, remaining the note's official owner

light tests the death note without sayu's knowledge

ryuk shows up to sayu and informs her that light has used the death note

light joins the conversation and demands to know whether sayu can be rid of the notebook

ryuk informs them sayu can forfeit the notebook and will no longer see ryuk, then states anyone who's killed with the notebook would lose all memory of it once they had done so

light correctly infers that by default, your memory will remain unless you have killed with the notebook.

light realises he needs sayu to lose ALL her memories of the notebook, both for her mental health and because she knows he's killed someone with the notebook and is a liability

light briefly considers asking sayu to use the notebook once before forfeiting it

light dismisses this as an option

light asks ryuk if there are any other options

ryuk reluctantly informs light that yes he can erase sayu's memories of the notebook if she willingly chooses it

light convinces sayu to give up her memories and the notebook and promises he will destroy it

sayu trusts light and doesn't push him to destroy the book in front of her

sayu gives up the notebook and her memories

light becomes owner of the death note

story proceeds per canon

#jesus christ im so sorry this got really long #asks #rookposting #death note #thanks for asking! this was really fun to get into.#death note the series really presented me with like a long ass list of provisions to operate around #which is like. a candy store to me #long post #also note this is not nearly all the possibilities. this could have gone a few other ways as well but we've all been here long enough

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candycandy00 · 2 months

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Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 3

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

You stood outside Anna's door the next morning, holding the little girl's hand. When the door opened, Anna looked curiously at her. "Who's this?"

"This is Miranda," you told her. "Her parents were attacked by half-breeds last night and she ended up with me. I thought you two should meet."

Anna stared down at the little girl, who was looking at her feet as she squeezed your hand. "Oh," Anna said, then dropped to her knees beside the girl and wrapped her arms around her.

Miranda's hand slipped free of yours and her little arms went around Anna, struggling to return the hug. Her body began shaking with sobs and she cried loudly into Anna's shoulder.

"It's okay, honey," Anna murmured, tears forming in her own eyes. "I'll take care of you now."

You stood back silently until Miranda stopped crying and Anna led her inside, then you followed the girl into the apartment.

Anna's place was cute and quaint, reminding you of the pictures you once saw in old home improvement magazines Terrian used to keep lying around the clinic. You didn’t know how she kept it so clean. The walls and furniture were faded, but had clearly been very bright and cheery at one time.

"So how did Miranda survive?" Anna asked, sitting down at the table beside you and handing you a cup of weak tea.

You took a sip. "Remember the half-breed Terrian brought in yesterday? He was the one who killed her parents."

"I told you he was dangerous!"

"Yeah, but he let Miranda go because he owed us for saving him."

Anna sat her cup of tea down. "You mean you interfered with a punishment? And a half-breed actually listened to you?"

"I was surprised myself," you answered, taking another sip. “I was so scared, I was crying like a baby. But I took a chance and it worked out.”

“You better not try anything like that again,”

Anna warned you. Then she glanced at the clock on her wall. “We’d better get to the clinic.”

After Anna showed Miranda around the kitchen and told her to help herself to anything in the refrigerator, she locked the door and instructed the girl to keep it that way until she came home.

"Sorry to dump her off on you," you said as you and Anna walked together toward the clinic.

"No problem. It'll be nice to have someone around. The nights are pretty lonely, you know."

You nodded. "I know." You turned your eyes toward the giant mechanical tower that stood in the direct center of Gallica. It was visible from every single spot in the city, as it loomed over everything as a symbol of the Pagoda. You frowned at the menacing construct. "It's too bad we can't just blow it up."

Anna followed your gaze to the tower and immediately held a finger to your lips. "Shhh! You know better than to say something like that in public!" she whispered furiously. "Do you wanna get ripped up by the half-breeds?"

You pulled Anna's hand away. "I know, I know. But it's like they're mocking us with that stupid tower."

"That stupid tower keeps the dome up. If we blow it up, we all freeze to death."

You looked down an alley toward the wall of the dome, where you could faintly see snow blowing wildly around on the other side. You sighed and kept walking. There was nothing you could do, nothing anyone could do.

Walking by the various alleyways and streets brought back painful memories. You could almost see yourself as a teenager, huddled under a streetlamp with Anna, eating whatever you could steal.

But you could also still see Terrian reaching out his hand to you both. You pushed the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and walked the rest of the way to the clinic with Anna.

It was a couple of days later when the front door of the clinic swung open and the half-breed you and Terrian had fixed up returned. He was back in his uniform, topped off by a dark beret that pressed his black hair down over the lone green eye. You stared at him as he walked toward Terrian. He was no longer the wounded young man in polka-dot pajamas, but an unfeeling monster in black.

There was a knot in your stomach, and you looked over at Anna, who was frozen stiff. "Anna, come on, let's tend the other patients," you told her, taking her hand.

"That bastard killed Miranda's parents," Anna whispered.

You nodded. "I know, but there's nothing we can do now. Let's go."

Terrian stepped out from the bedside of a nearby patient when the half-breed neared him. "Ah, Mr. Vartan! You came back for your check-up!"

The half-breed, who had apparently signed his patient form as Vartan, nodded.

Terrian led him through the swinging doors and into the back room. Some of the patients who were conscious drew in sharp breaths as Vartan walked by them, looking at him with terror written across their faces. You felt bad for them.

Just when you thought things had calmed down, a few minutes after Terrian and Vartan had left the room, Terrian poked his head through the swinging doors and asked you to bring some more bandages. You frowned to him, but gathered up the bandages and walked through the swinging doors.

Vartan was sitting on a cot, his jacket and shirt discarded and his torso again exposed. At least this time he was wearing pants.

He looked young as he sat there, a little younger than the twenty-three years of age he had written on the patient form. Shirtless and wearing the beret made him look strangely like some sort of male stripper. Dare you even think it, he almost looked cute.

Terrian removed the bandages and examined the wound. It had already mostly closed up, healing rapidly with the amazing Pagoda blood. He carefully cleaned the area, examined it for infection, then dressed it with fresh bandages.

"Take these off in a couple of days. If the wound looks fine, you don't need to put anymore on. If there's any bleeding or discoloration, come here immediately."

Vartan nodded, pulling on his jacket. He paused, looking at you. "Is there a problem?"

You blinked. "What?"

"You have been staring at my chest the whole time you have been here. Is there a problem I should be aware of?"

You went red. You hadn't even realized you were staring. "Oh, no, I'm sorry!"

Terrian looked at you in surprise, then looked back to Vartan. "You'll have to forgive my nurse. She's not used to seeing such finely crafted male bodies. The lot we get in here are very different from you."

"Doctor!" Your face was now burning with embarrassment.

Terrian laughed, and Vartan seemed just a little confused. You were deeply upset. How could Terrian be so casual with a half-breed?

Vartan buttoned his jacket, thanked Terrian again, nodded to you, and left out the back door. Terrian grinned. "Wow, he's so polite!"

"Polite?! I saw him tear a woman's head off the other night!"

"Well, he's still a half-breed after all. At least we're safe. He seems to like us, you in particular."

You were placing the left over roll of bandages in a cabinet. "Me?"

"You haven't noticed?” Terrian asked. “He keeps looking at you. Maybe he thinks you're cute!"

You went pale. "That's not exactly a good thing, Doctor. You know what the half-breeds are like."

"But you obviously think he's cute," Terrian said, still grinning.

"I do not!"

"Couldn't keep your eyes off him."

"I was looking at his wound!"

Terrian laughed. "Why deny it? It would certainly be novel, a half-breed with a willing human."

"I don't like him!" you suddenly screamed. "He killed Miranda's parents! If we hadn't saved his life, he would've killed me too!"

"That's all true, but haven't you ever wondered? How much their human side affects them? I don't think they've ever had relationships like we have. I don't think they understand the concept of family. Maybe if they could experience that, it would awaken the humanity in them."

"But Doctor, how can you make excuses for them? They killed your father, didn't they?"

Terrian looked down, his glasses slipping down his nose. "You're right. Sorry, it was just wishful thinking."

The day wore on, just like the other days before it. You, Anna, and Terrian tended patients, joked with each other, and allowed yourselves to forget about the outside world. And when the working day was over, you parted ways and returned home.

Anna's apartment was on the other side of town, where Miranda was at home waiting for her. Terrian lived in a large house a few blocks away, but spent the night at the clinic whenever a critical patient was brought in. He had often asked you girls to move into his home, but you both had the desire for a little independence, at least for as long as you could maintain it.

You entered your apartment that evening, flipping on the light in the small living room and locking the door up tight behind you. The room was dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it. It seemed like a thin layer of filth covered the whole city, and no one could get rid of it.

There was no television, not for the past twelve years. Your memories of it had become vague over time. Sometimes you and Anna went to Terrian's house to watch old films. As interesting as they were, you found them depressing. People were usually happy in those movies, enjoying a world you didn’t remember, and you couldn't relate to them at all.

There was an unused stove in the corner of your kitchen and a small refrigerator stocked with items like fruit, vegetables, butter, cheese, and rarely some form of meat. You counted yourself extremely fortunate to have what little you had, as produce was quickly becoming a scarcity. The Pagoda managed resources in an extremely strict manner, and even private gardens had been taken over.

You unpacked your things from the duffel bag, then changed into pajamas. You fixed herself a glass of water, placed it on your bedside table, and went to bed. The sheets were cold without the warmth of another person, but you had gotten used to that.

Sleep came slowly to you, and then you were haunted by violent nightmares filled with screams and blood and the half-breed Vartan killing Miranda's father. And then suddenly Miranda morphed into Anna.

"Why didn't you save me too?" Anna demanded, looking up at you with blood all over her face, "Why didn't you save me like you did Miranda?!"

You backed away from her until your back hit a stone wall. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Anna! I didn't know you then!"

Anna shook her head. "That doesn't matter. I needed you. I needed to be saved!"

She came closer, until she was inches from you. Finally, she reached out and wrapped her hands around your throat, choking you.

You awoke with a jolt, sitting up in bed and clutching the sheets in your fists. Sweat dripped down your back. Nightmares like that were surprisingly rare for you. Generally, you dreamed of your parents or of the clinic.

You never got back to sleep that night, and so you were early to work the next morning, even before Terrian or Anna arrived. Terrian came first, unlocking the doors and letting you in, followed soon after by Anna. You and Anna changed into your uniforms while Terrian checked the patients. But just as you walked through the swinging doors, you heard the front door of the clinic bust open.

All of you looked up just as three half-breeds, two men and one woman, walked in. They scanned the main patient area with their two-color eyes, then looked at Terrian.

One of the men spoke with the same mechanical voice Vartan had. "We've received reports that you are harboring those who escaped punishment. Everyone in this building is now officially interfering with punishment.”

Terrian pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again. "Girls, I want you to run far away from here. Right now."

Anna started toward him. "But Doctor..."

"RUN!" he screamed, and you grabbed Anna's arm, dragging her toward the back entrance. As the two of you made it through the swinging doors, you began to hear screams and cries, glass breaking, and the sound of Terrian's voice as he yelled for the half-breeds to stop.

#alien x reader #alien x human #x reader #x reader stories #original x reader #original fiction #alien x you

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