#i know this is just 'the 9-5 reality'
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Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dass Uni wieder anfängt und ich nicht mehr Vollzeit arbeite :')
Ich träume von 7:30 bis 16:00 vom Lernen, vor allem Sprachen, vom Videos schauen, Nichts tun. Aber wenn ich dann um 17:00 zuhause bin, bin ich müde, muss aufräumen, muss kochen, habe Verabredungen :')
Aber in zwei Wochen ist wieder Uni! Und ich werde mehr Zeit haben! Und mehr coole Dinge lernen (unter anderem Zweitspracherwerb!!! (= L2-aquisition)
:)
#i know this is just 'the 9-5 reality'#but I'm allowed to hate it#and want a more flowy workday#and to want to have time for my interests#only 2 more weeks though!
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It is worth noting that I get a lot of anon hate, mostly insults and vague threats, but that's just the thing — I get anon hate.
By which I mean, no one gets anons about me. There's no call out post circulating about me.
There's nothing to say that I'm not very open about. Everyone who follows me and is friends with me is very much aware of what I write about and what kind of dynamics that I enjoy in fiction.
Anons don't tell other people that I'm a horrible person, they tell me that I'm a horrible person.
Because they know that I'm not. They just want me to hate myself.
#anon hate#proship#if there was something substantial ''against me'' then I KNOW these losers would be all over it#but there isn't so they can't#they just want me to hate myself as much as they hate me#which is kinda 👀👀#some of these people sending anon hate absolutely have gay little crushes on me and it's so embarrassing#angry that I make them feel things they don't want to be feeling tbh 💅#no but fr like? I'm literally Just Some Fucking Guy#not everyone you don't like is secretly evil#most of us live very normal lives#i post fanfic and I do my taxes and I have a 9 to 5 like??#I don't secretly kick puppies for fun or something#it is so weird to me that strangers online are OBSESSED with somehow manifesting a reality where I'm a shitty awful person#just so that they feel vindicated#it's very selfish and parasocial
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me at 13: by the time im 30 i will probably be married and maybe have a kid but for sure i will be living in my dream city and have my dream job. and also a lot of money
me at almost 30: i think i will treat myself to a corn dog this weekend
#i want a corn dog so bad rn#ngl u guys im actually really struggling with turning 30 at the end of the year lmao#not lmao bc it really is bothering me which is so stupid i know I Know#but. and i know we're All struggling with this. but it's like god i have done nothing with my life#like fr. everyone says that but i literally have done nothing. ive never had a real 9-5 ive been freelancing since college#and tbh i guess that's not a bad thing? but self worth wise i feel like a complete loser.#but ive just made one mistake after another and i know that's what your 20s are for and u know what this is my tags and im not going#to keep contradicting myself i feel like shit bc i feel like shit and ive wasted my whole life thats that#i just feel like such a sham like i cant believe this is what 30 is like i on god feel like im still a teenager#not in a carefree kind of way OBVIOUSLY. which i never was anyway. but i just ?? feel like that#scary fucking episode of rugrats where tommy and chuckie become their dads and they go to work and theyre so fucked up bc#well theyre babies and they dont know anything. and even the fact that i just referenced rugrats to explain how i feel lmaooooo#relationship wise well u guys know how that is. and i truly couldnt care less about what people think about me not being in a relationship#ever and tbqh i dont give a fuck anymore either like. and here i go bringing this up again. but after my ex im like ok life truly is so#short fr i dont even care like anyway. anyway. the point is there is just no reality whatsoever where i pictured my life where i am now#once again living with the abusive relative i moved across the ocean to get away from.#no love life to speak of. fr dont care but god wouldnt it be nice to be loved fr.....#no career. living in a state i hate with all my heart. barely surviving money wise. which is everyone rn but#if i had known 10 years ago this would be my life i would have honestly killed myself.#like if i knew it would all turn out like this i wouldnt have moved i wouldve just fr killed myself and i wish i did lol#to be fair. i didnt see myself living past 18 but like. i just thought something would have saved me by now
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thinking about going to morning practice but it's at 5:15am :/
#0.txt#if i wanna keep swimming i HAVE to commit to a morning practice since i can't do the afternoon one anymore#part of me thinks i can do it bc right now i just want to go to bed at 8pm anyways (god getting back into the 9-5 is rough)#but in reality i'm not a morning person no matter how much sleep i get#i probably could get away with doing the later practices once i have a work routine and know when i can and can't afford to fuck off#but right now fuck man. i really want to stay in shape but i'm so awful at getting up early 😭😭😭
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i went from being the youngest person at my job to one of the oldest interns at this internship and it’s fucking me up. am i old?
#most of them are 20/22 and like#granted i've grown a lot these past two years out of college#but it's not like we don't have a lot in common#it's just that i know the soul crushing reality of the 9 to 5 and they don't LOL
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i know it doesnt have to be "as bad" as it used to be for it to still be impacting me severely. i know others suffering doesnt make my pain any less real. and yet i am sitting here feeling severe guilt over smthn thats supposed to be "natural" bc it causes such excessive pain (even when i am medicated & take pain meds to help it) that i may have to completely rearrange my Saturday bc i am in no condition to do what i had planned and if the pain doesn't stop I'll have to cancel and ik its important to prioritize my health but also i wish i could just grit through the pain bc i feel so guilty cancelling 🙃
#personal#being intersex is fun (':#<< heavy sarcasm rn if u cant tell#and b4 anyone says 'oh everyones periods are lainful just do xyz' pls consider i have been experiencing this for 12 years now#and Do know medically that i am intersex and that my condition impacts the function of my body and puts me in a level of pain that is so big#that at its peak when on my period my body starts mimicking labor bc it thinks smthn is trying to leave#and if you have never experienced a labor pain level cramp pls look it up or get one of those electric box thingies that let u feel it#bc my cramps are a solid 8-9 on those every time this happens#the sad thing is i say its “not as bad as it used to be” too but the reality is it is Just as painful#i have just been living with this long enough and have just enough hormones in my body from getting an implant to make it less frequent#than 3 weeks in a month 🙃 but its not less painful at all!#(yes i used to have my period for 3 weeks at a time)#im also worried bc like. it seems like my period is coming more often than when i first started this version of hormone treatment#I've already blown through pills being effective and my junk is the wrong shape inside for an IUD to fit properly#(like i could but it would likely cause other pains and worse side effects)#so im already at my second to last resort (BC implant for continuous hormone release) and it works to a point but its getting less effective#the longer im using it and im so scared bc i think im already at a point where i have to get my stuff removed w/in the next 5 years#and i already knew i would and i want to really#but there's a large part of me that is still devastated by that and grieves this bc its a Requirement for me after a certain point to be in#less pain ): and like... idk i didnt want kids ever but also now as an adult ive experienced multiple miscarriages#(bc my condition makes my body hostile essentially)#and so its like..... extra grief.#idk im rambling in these tags
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Freè palestine
My name is Noor, and I am a mother of three children, living in Gaza. I am 32 years old, and my children are Yamen (5 years old), Tala (11 years old), and Yara (9 years old). Our lives were filled with hope and dreams before the war changed everything. Now, we find ourselves with nothing but devastation around us, and no one to turn to.
My husband has been missing since the start of the war, and we have no information about his whereabouts or condition. Our home was completely destroyed, and in the midst of the destruction, I was severely injured by an airstrike, which left me with severe damage to my right and left hands. I can no longer move my right hand, and I have undergone two surgeries so far. My left leg also had to be treated with a metal plate, and I am still recovering.
But perhaps the hardest part of all this is that I am unable to provide food for my children. I look into their innocent eyes, and I can't tell them when they will eat again. I can’t bear seeing them go to sleep hungry, not knowing when the next meal will come. This is the unbearable reality we face every single day.
Today, I turn to you, asking for your help. We desperately need assistance with food and basic supplies. We need your help to survive this nightmare, to bring some hope back to our lives. Your support, no matter how small, will mean the world to us and help us through this overwhelming struggle
Please, if you can help in any way, know that you will be giving us more than just food—you will be giving us hope and strength to face another day.
May God bless you and reward you for your kindness. Whatever you give will not go unnoticed, and it will remain in our hearts forever.
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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo
-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k
Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.
Click
January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.
Click
January 16th, 6:38 PM
My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.
Click
January 19th, 6:11 AM
Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.
Click
January 19th, 8:27 PM
I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it.
Click
January 23rd, 5:13 AM
Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.
Click
January 23rd, 9:53 PM
She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again.
Click
January 28th, 7:06 PM
My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be.
Click
February 2nd, 8:31 AM
I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.
Click
February 5th, 6:21 PM
I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.
That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her.
With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.
He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.
It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area.
Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit.
In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love.
These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?
Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to.
He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces.
Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine.
Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get.
You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.
Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away.
On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you.
“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.
When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you.
There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf.
You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.
Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.
His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month.
“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening.
You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.
His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well.
Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.
Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.
Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?
But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.
Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease.
For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.
Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text:
-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)
He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.
-I would love that. What time, my love?
Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.
-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.
Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours.
A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.
Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text:
-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.
You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks.
“What is it?” your coworker asked.
“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face.
Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.
You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.
No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries.
You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now.
“January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.
When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony.
You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head.
“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner.
“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest.
“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.
Click
Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you.
“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?”
You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life.
The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting?
Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room.
As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.
He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.
Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.
A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.”
“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.
“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.
He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.
Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue.
A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.”
Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.
“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.
“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”
He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.
“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.
“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you.
A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy.
Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote.
Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him.
“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.
“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”
Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him.
“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”
You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment.
Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”
Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage.
“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”
It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.”
You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening.
“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex.
“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch.
You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most.
“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.
You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you.
“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours.
author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.
this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol
alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆。˚
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.
#—written by jade 🌿#jujutsu kaisen writing#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo smut#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#satorugojo#gojosatoru#jjk#jujutsukaisen#gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru smut#jujutsu satoru#gojo#gojo jjk#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#bratbby333
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Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
#danny phantom#batman#tim drake#jason todd#bruce wayne#dc x dp#dick grayson#red hood#nightwing#bamf danny phantom#sea cryptic! danny au
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I genuinely wonder if people realize how many projects get abandoned because the readership "wasn't there", when in reality, the readership just stayed silent. It's a big thing in trad pub that book series get discontinued because readers pirate the books or wait until the series is finished to buy a copy, leading the publisher to think that nobody actually wants the book enough to continue the series, but it happens with indie creators too.
I've discontinued a lot of free, online series because it's not worth putting 3-5 hours a week into posting a project for no readers. Sometimes I finish the series for me but just never post it again, other times I don't finish it at all because it feels more worthwhile to put my time into other things. Sometimes I hear from readers who are sad or upset that I didn't finish something they were liking, but the *reason* it never got finished is because I didn't know anyone liked it. If you like something, tell the creator, tell your friends, make some noise about it. If you would be sad if a story never finished, make that interest known because one of my biggest considerations before discontinuing a series is "will people miss this? Will I be letting people down" and 9/10 times, I come to the conclusion of "no, it doesn't even seem like anyone's reading this" only to learn after I've moved on that apparently someone was.
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CamGirl! Ellie
“How...” You trail off as you view the poll in disbelief, setting the brightness of your monitor up in an effort to re-read the winners of your next collaboration,
Ellie Williams had won by a landslide over Abby Anderson.
How was that even fuckin’ possible, i mean, it was practically unheard of in the field of camming; a rookie like Williams beating a veteran like Anderson out.
You prop a fuzzy sock-clad foot on your desk as you lean back in your streaming chair, the viewers going absolutely insane at the chance of a collab with Ellie Williams now becoming a reality. You simply couldn’t help the amusement that began to simmer in your manner.
“Well..I did promise you all, didn’t I?” You flash a pearly smile, looking back at your camera as the thousands of comments roll in,
@Ilovesluts1: LETS GOOOOO!
@Abbys3xual: made like a bajillion accounts to vote for abby smh :/
@EWismyreligion: bro sm1 tag me when its starts next week
@AbbyAnderson: aw, dont seem so down, ill get em next time
@FuckSuckGo: ░PUSSY░IN░BIO░
Skimming through them, you slightly tilt your head at the viewer count, “Mm, we’re past our usual viewership number, are you all that excited to see me get fucked?” Your laugh coming out a bit airy as you slowly begin to unzip the large hoodie you had on, top set of teeth brushing against your bottom lip, “Now that you’ve got something fun to look forward to, let’s get back on our usual schedule.”
Meanwhile, Ellie was laying in bed, laptop propped up on her thighs as she watches your stream in antcipation on her alt. Poor girl had practically chewed her nailbeds down to nothing as she hears you talk about her for the first time in that sultry voice you had; Ellie practically worshipped the ground you walked on- hell, you were the one to even get into her camming.
She first came across your sfw gaming account, thinking you were a fresh breath of air. You had good humor, seemed down to earth and you were beautiful as hell.
Couple of weeks later, you mention in a ‘StarDew Valley’ stream how your other account got flagged for the influx of subscribers you were obtaining, the streaming platform mistaking them for bots. You were just that good, and Ellie didn’t need any further convincing before finding the paywalled account and sprinting to her coat, fishing out the credit card.
Safe to say she quickly became one of your top donators in just a couple of days, the comments talking amongst themselves of just who ‘User1009’ could be, and the hefty amount of money being sent in a single sitting; you didn’t really bat an eye all that much as you were pretty use to it, but upon reading the comments, you smiled; “Guess i’m well liked?”
shortly after, the system text-to-speech alert sounds:
@User1009 has sent a donation of 3000USD with a note attached:- More than you know :)
Ellie was ensnared in your trap. She worked a regular 9-5, she wasn’t under a hot-shot label like you when she cammed in the little to no free time she had, instead, opting to freelance with little 5 minute amateur videos.
Though, it’s her toned body and music-like moans that gets her quickly climbing in the ranks, the platform practically becoming infatuated with the quick strokes of Ellie’s wrist when she’s pumping a sleek toy inside of her, or the risk of her being caught in the very public areas she performes said acts in. She was a thrill, and had everyone tuned in.
Even you, as you probe your mouse around her offical account in your dim-lit room, trying to see just who would be bending you over.
“She’s cute..” You mutter as you click on one of the more clearer videos, heat quickly consuming you as her slicked pussy comes into camera-view, long slender olive-toned fingers pistoning in and out of her swollen cunt aggressively as she chases an orgasm, before slowly removing them and demonstrating how her cum webs inbetween digits, some cascading down her wrist before the video cuts.
And for the first time in some weeks, you catch yourself actually feeling excited as you rub your thighs together.
Not just for the clicks and money either..but for some girl on the internet.
Hey, i dont rlly know if you’d be okay with this but..r u down for a vid tgtr? my fans rlly like u but ik u dont do collabs lol (sent at 11:36pm)
#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#camgirl! ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#drabble#tlou 2#lesbian#wlw#san8ny
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「 ✦ How Would The Slytherin boys React After you tell them you’re pregnant:✦ 」
[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Draco Malfy-Tom Riddle]
•Mattheo Riddle
1.Silence: You blurt out the news, a nervous flutter in your chest. Mattheo stares at you, processing the information. Don't panic! This is his initial shock absorbing mode.
2. More Silence: You try again. Still, silence. Don't take it personally; his mind is racing a million miles a minute.
3. The Disappearance Act: By evening, Mattheo might be MIA. Don't fret! This is probably him needing some space to grapple with the news. (Don't chase him to Knockturn Alley, though.)
4. Awkward Return: When he finally returns, you launch into a "what-are-we-going-to-do" speech. But wait! He cuts you off...
5. "Hey, it's okay” : Mattheo might surprise you with a calm demeanor. This doesn't mean he isn't nervous, but he's trying to reassure you (and maybe himself).
6. "I want it too." : Prepare for a confession! Mattheo, the king of nonchalance, might admit he wants this, with you. This might be followed by an apology for his earlier silence."Sorry, I was just shocked earlier. Shouldn't have reacted that way."
7. Confusion Reigns: "You're not mad?" you finally manage to ask, a sliver of doubt lingering.He might confess he's clueless about the whole "No," he says, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... I never thought about this stuff. Family, kids, the whole shebang. But if I'm gonna do it, I want it to be with you." _Cue the tiny butterflies in your stomach._
8. "But with you.":He might clarify that while the whole baby thing is new, having it with you? That's something he can do.
9. Protectiveness Unleashed: Expect a shift in Mattheo. He might become fiercely protective of you and the little one on the way. (Just don't tell him it's "nesting" if he starts building a barricade around your house.),Mattheo will hover over you, insisting you take prenatal vitamins and threatening to glare down any stranger who bumps into you. It's annoyingly sweet.
10.The (Slight) Freak Out (Because It's Mattheo): Don't get too comfortable yet. There will be moments of panic. Mattheo might blurt out something about not knowing the first thing about raising a kid, or how motorbikes suddenly seem like a terrible idea. Just remind him that you're in this together, crazy as it may be.
•Theodore Nott
1. Reality Check?: Theo might blurt out, "Are you sure?" It's not doubt about your love, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. Breathe, and calmly confirm with that positive blood test result.
2. Freak-Out Time: Picture a cartoon character with smoke billowing from their ears. That might be Theo, internally freaking out. Don't worry, it's normal (though maybe not that dramatic).
3. Parental Apocalypse?: "Your dad will kill me!" Theo might shriek, envisioning a future father-in-law wielding a shotgun.
4. Waterworks Warning: Tears might well up in your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. He will put everything beside and try to comfort you.
5. Protective Streak: Expect a dramatic shift. Theo, the notorious rule-breaker, might turn into a fierce protector, ready to shield you from any and all perceived threats.
6. Reassurance Renaissance: He'll rush to your side, muttering reassurances like "Hey, I'm here" and "I'll be here every step of the way." "I might be freaking out internally, but I'm not going anywhere."
7. "We" is the New Word: The "me" might temporarily disappear, replaced by a constant "we." He might start talking about "our baby" and "what we need to do.".
8. Fear is a Two-Way Street: Theo might confess he's scared too. Don't be surprised; fatherhood is a big leap for anyone. Reassure him you're in this together.
9. Facing the Future, Together: Theo might not be known for responsibility, but this news could be a turning point. He might surprise you with his determination to navigate this journey with you.
10.A (Slightly Chaotic) New Chapter: Yes, there will be challenges. But with Theo by your side, even the most chaotic moments of pregnancy and parenthood can turn into an unforgettable adventure (well, maybe not all the diaper changes).
•Lorenzo Berkshire
1. Record Scratch Moment: "Excuse me, what?" Lorenzo might look like a record player with a skipped track. Don't worry, the information overload will clear soon.
2. Baby Talk Confusion: He might blurt out, "Pregnant? Like...with a baby, like a real baby ?"
5. The F-Bomb Symphony: Brace yourself for a chorus of "Oh fuck!" Lorenzo might panic a bit, but hey, at least he acknowledges the reality.
6. Apology Avalanche: Prepare for a barrage of "I'm so sorry for putting a baby on you." It's not guilt-tripping, just Lorenzo's awkward way of expressing concern.
7. Decision Time: He might cut through the tension with a simple, "Okay, what do we do?" Don't be fooled by his bluntness; he's ready to face this together. He might surprise you with a genuine, "I want it. Do you?" Expect a hint of nervousness, but mostly a determination to be a part of this.
8. Family Gathering Fiasco: Prepare for a potential meltdown when it comes to telling your families. He might blurt out, "I'm pregnant!" before you can correct him. Just take a deep breath and handle the announcement yourself later.
9. Overprotective Overload: Expect Lorenzo to morph into your personal bubble wrap. Lifting a box? Forget it. Climbing stairs? Hold on, he's got you. You might need to remind him you're not made of glass .
10. Google Goes Dad Mode: One night, you might catch him researching "how to take care of a pregnant woman" , “ How to be a good dad “ on his phone. Aww, just don’t cry you will freak him out again.
•Draco Malfy
1. Denial is a River in Egypt: His first response? "You're lying." Don't panic. This is classic Draco, clinging to disbelief. Prepare to show him the pregnancy test, the blood test… anything to pierce his denial bubble.
2."Look Away, Not At It!": He might stubbornly refuse to even glance at the evidence. Don't take it personally; it's his defense mechanism malfunctioning.
3. Accusatory Tirade: Brace yourself for a verbal explosion. He might accuse you of lying, of trapping him, of using his family name. Remember, fear often masquerades as anger in Draco's world.
4. Protection Spells on His Pants?: He might insist he used every protection under the sun. Don't get into a magical contraception debate. Just try to explain accidents happen.
5. The Ejector Seat Option: Draco might bluntly tell you to leave. It's a knee-jerk reaction, not a reflection of his true feelings (hopefully!).
6. Standing Your Ground: Here comes the hard part. You tell him you're keeping the baby, with or without him. This might be the first crack in his emotional armor.
7. A Continent Away From Chaos: Fearing his reaction and the uncertainty of it all, you flee to another country. Girl, we feel you! But remember, you're not alone in this.
8. A Connection You Can't Deny: Despite the fear, you feel a powerful bond with the tiny life growing inside you. This little one deserves a chance, and you vow to protect them.
9. The Redemption Knocks: Two months later, a frantic pounding on your door jolts you awake. You open it to find a desperate Draco, his face etched with worry.
10. A Malfoy Regret-Fest: He confesses he searched everywhere for you, regret gnawing at him. When he learns you fled, the dam breaks. He apologizes profusely, begging you to tell him you kept the baby.
A Second Chance, Malfoy Style:
Relief washes over you as you nod, tears welling up. He wipes them away, muttering, "It's still ours. I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you or our baby again." A genuine plea hangs in his voice.
“ Do you still love me?“ A shaky nod escapes your lips. He pleads for forgiveness, for a chance to be part of this family he never knew he craved.
This might be the start of a rocky but redemptive journey for both of you. Draco, beneath his icy exterior, might surprise you with his capacity for love and growth. Just remember, keep a communication charm handy – navigating fatherhood with Draco will likely be an… interesting adventure.
•Tom Riddle
1. The Stoic Facade: Don't be surprised if Tom remains eerily calm. His usual mask of control might slip not an inch, leaving you wondering what's going on behind those eyes.
2. Tears: A flood of emotions might be coursing through you, but Tom? His reaction might be a chilling calmness. This doesn't mean he's unfeeling, just that he processes things differently.
3. Misinterpreting Your Distress: Seeing you cry, Tom might jump to a chilling conclusion. "Is having a baby with me that terrifying?" Here comes the part where you clarify.
4. Guilt by Association: A quick "No, no!" will hopefully ease his worry. But then you blurt out your fear – you're both too young.
5. Age is Irrelevant: Tom operates on a different timeline. Age is just a number, and power? That's the real currency. He might say, "It's not about age, it's about power."
6. Power Trip for Three?: Brace yourself for a Tom Riddle monologue about the immense power your child could possess. He might see it as an extension of his own ambitions, a prodigy groomed for greatness.Don't be afraid to voice your anxieties. When you say, "Tom, I don't want my baby to be part of your plans," he might actually listen.
6. A Promise, Riddle-Style: “I promise you, I will keep them safe. I will keep you safe." But remember, Tom's definition of "safe" might not align with yours. Stay frosty.
7. Your Fears Take Center Stage: Tears welling up again? This might be the moment it dawns on Tom that you're not thrilled about the power angle. He might try to reassure you, but...
8. Promises with a Price: Tom doesn't give anything without expecting something in return. Be prepared for him to outline his expectations for your role in his grand plan.
9. A Tug-of-War for the Future: This is where things get interesting. Do you submit to his vision, or do you fight for a different future for your child? The choice is yours.
10. A Dance with Darkness: Having a child with Tom Riddle is a gamble. He might be a captivating presence, but remember, his path is paved with darkness. Are you willing to walk it with him?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#fluff imagines#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott imagine#lorenzo berkshire imagine#theodore nott masterlist#mattheo riddle imagines#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#regulus black masterlist#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle masterlist#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheoriddle#mattheo riddle imagine#tom riddle x you#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle imagines#tom riddle#regulus black x y/n#slytherin boys react#slytherin headcanons
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Survival 101 :
Buckle up your seatbelt darling because this is going to be triggering and one hell of a ride. Don't expect mushy from me. Might do it when tapped in my soft girl era but today I feel like a Villain.
1) Keep your mouth shut where you don't hold the power. No power no expressed opinions that can put you in trouble.
2) Learn manipulation and seduction skills. This will help you to detect when someone is trying to manipulate and seduce you. Saves a lot of drama and heartache.
3) Fight back strategically. We don't want to lose a job, a degree certificate, a bruise on your body,etc depending on your situation.
4) Facts over emotions. Always.
5) 90% of older men are creepy. Speaking from experience here. Play with them by ear. Get what you want by being polite and respectful but if they try to harass you or take advantage we turn Medusa on them or if you are not in a position to fight and walk out safe just play cutesy and shy and dumb. Ask him what he means and do not take a word said by him seriously. Dodge his advances like your life depends on it until you get an opening to run for the hills.
6) Snap out of delusions and pay attention to reality. People are not what you make them out to be they are what they show you. Stop making excuses for them.
7) Anxiety can be crippling. Panic attacks are the worst but no matter what happens try your level best to never show them publicly. Men are vultures and vulnerable women are easy prey for men.
8) That one friend who is all sweet to you and is your bff but anything positive happens in your life and suddenly starts becoming passive aggressive. Not your friend. Don't share any secrets. Best to be kept as an acquaintance.
9) Develop sarcasm and don't be afraid to put self entitled bitches and bastards in their place. Better being called a 'Mean Girl' over a 'Doormat'.
10) Bully back the bullies. It's 2024 sweetie we don't wait for an opportunity for revenge we fucking create it.
11) No matter how tough your life is going everyone shouldn't be getting a broadcast about it. At least not by your own mouth. Try to act as put together as you can.
12) Kindness is virtue but being apathetic saves you. Don't be the fool who bleeds through the stabs of the same knives again and again. "Because I can't see them in pain. I have a heart." Babygirl you have a life too. All that emotional stress is going to result in some serious problems in the upcoming years.
13) Learn when to quit. The most emotionally intelligent people I know are great quitters. They know when it's the end of an era.
14) Never disclose your family issues to outsiders. Until and unless a person has proved their loyalty to you year after year only those selected one or two people should know your domestic issues. Anyone else knowing it is like having a good gossip for tea time.
15) Lastly, there are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour.
#dark feminine energy#divine feminine#gaslight gatekeep girlboss#girlblogging#glow up#it girl#self care#self love#that girl#toxic parents#toxic people#trauma survivor#survival#it girl aesthetic#that girl aesthetic#becoming that girl#becoming her#wellness#mental health#motivation#girl blogger#self help#self improvement#dark femininity#pink pilates girl#pink pilates princess#ash-says#coquette#level up#level up journey
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Sundered 5: QUARRELS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon
word count: 6.8k
This is close enough for a beggar like him.
“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.
“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.
“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.
“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.
“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.
And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.
“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.
You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.
It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.
“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.
Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway.
With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be.
Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.
“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.
Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel.
Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.
“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.
Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.
“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.
“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.
“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.
“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.
“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat.
Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house. You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.
“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.” He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms.
To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.
“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.
“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.
She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.”
“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.
You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.
“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.
“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.
“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son. And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.
“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.
“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.
“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes.
Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.
They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can.
Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about.
“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched.
“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.
“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.
“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.
“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed.
“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.
“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events.
“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.”
“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.
“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.
“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.
He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship.
None of it was worth it.
—--------------------------------------------------
Three Days Ago
“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.
Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.
If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?
“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.
“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.
Can Naomi really do that?
“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.
She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.
Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?
“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you.
She’s better for him than you.
“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.
“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.
“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?
Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.
She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship.
—------------------------------------------
Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.
“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.
Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again.
You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.
Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today.
He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie.
Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.
“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.
“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.
Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.
Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.
Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?”
“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning.
“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.
“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard
“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him.
“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you.
“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.
You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.
Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.
His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.
“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.
Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.
Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you.
Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.
“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.
You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm.
“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.
Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.
“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.
"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.
“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “
“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.
“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“
“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.”
You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.
Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from.
—————————————-
Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck.
“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”
“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.
“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.
Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.
She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.
Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.
She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him.
Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”
Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it.
The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.
“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N.
Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.” There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful.
Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.
“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.”
It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before.
Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.
“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.
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A Feline Connection Part 7
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha has to face the harsh reality that she can’t help everyone.
Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, light fluff
Words: 3790
“Whitney Frost, daughter of Byron Frost—a typical Wall Street tycoon,” Tony’s voice echoes through the phone as he reads out the details FRIDAY managed to dig up.
On Natasha’s screen, she can see multiple files and articles pulled up on Tony’s monitors, the holographic images casting a blue glow on his face as he continues.
“There are plenty of articles about her earlier years. Standard socialite magazine garbage—life of a spoiled rich kid, extravagant parties, lavish vacations. You get the idea.”
Natasha lets out a dry scoff at the irony, her lips curling slightly.
“Coming from the playboy billionaire who once blew up half of his mansion?”
Tony gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his chest in a wounded gesture.
“Watch it, Romanoff. I’m helping you here.”
Rolling her eyes, Natasha nods. “My bad. Please, continue.”
Tony huffs, turning his attention back to his screens.
“After her father’s death, she goes dark for a couple of years. No public appearances, no sightings—nothing. Coincidentally, around the same time, reports start cropping up about a new leader rising within one of the East Coast’s major crime families. Descriptions of the leader consistently include one distinct detail: a golden mask, giving them the title–”
“Madame Masque,” Natasha finishes for him, her tone flat.
“Bingo,” Tony confirms. “Over the years, she’s pulled off some pretty big moves. Arms deals, arson, major heists—she’s dangerous, Nat.”
There’s a shuffle of papers in the background, and Peter’s voice chimes in.
“I don’t get it, Mr. Stark. If she was already rich, why turn to crime?”
Natasha doesn’t hesitate to answer.
“It’s not always about money,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just about power and control.”
A brief silence follows, the weight of her words sinking in.
Tony’s expression darkens slightly, and even Peter doesn’t offer a rebuttal. They all know Natasha is right.
People like Whitney thrive on domination, bending others to their will.
Natasha’s frown deepens, her thoughts drifting back to the night before—the memory of you leaving with Whitney still fresh and raw. She exhales slowly, the sting of hurt in her chest flaring again, though she pushes it down.
Suddenly, Tony’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. What are you doing?”
Natasha’s brows knit in confusion as she glances at the screen. “What do you mean?”
Tony leans closer to the camera, pointing a finger at her with exaggerated disbelief.
“Why are you bottle-feeding that cat like it’s a baby?”
Natasha pulls Widow closer, cradling the tiny feline protectively against her chest. In her free hand, she holds a small baby bottle filled with water, offering it near the cat’s mouth.
“She still won’t eat complete meals,” Natasha explains defensively. “At least this way, she’s staying hydrated.”
Widow lets out a faint, sad meow, turning away from the bottle and burrowing deeper into Natasha’s arm.
Natasha sighs softly, her expression tinged with disappointment as she looks down at the cat.
Peter’s voice pipes up from off-screen.
“Miss Romanoff, I could go pick up some different kinds of cat food if you’d like?”
Before Natasha can respond, Tony waves him off.
“Great idea, kid. Take my card and have at it.”
“Awesome,” Peter replies, his excitement evident as he disappears from view.
As soon as Peter is gone, Natasha raises an eyebrow at Tony.
“Was that really a good idea?”
Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Eh, it’ll be fine.”
“So, what is it?” Natasha asks knowingly. She can tell Tony got rid of Peter so that he would not hear whatever it is Tony was holding back.
“Some tough love,” he says bluntly, his relaxed demeanor shifting into something more serious. He leans forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “Look, Nat, if your friend is running with people like Whitney Frost, you might need to face the facts.”
“Which are?” Natasha’s tone grows colder, her jaw tightening.
“She’s a criminal,” Tony states flatly, the words landing like a stone.
Natasha’s frown deepens, the label grating against her as she reflexively clutches Widow a little tighter. “And?”
Tony sighs, shaking his head as if she’s missing the obvious.
“You need to start treating her like one.”
Natasha’s eyes narrow.
“Did you forget I used to be an assassin?” she counters, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
“And now you’re an Avenger,” Tony fires back without missing a beat. “Not everyone’s like you, Nat. Not everyone wants to change.”
The silence stretches between them, tension simmering as Natasha processes his words.
Seeing her still hesitant to accept the fact, he adds softly, “You can’t help someone who doesn’t even want it.”
Natasha frowns, her eyes drifting down to the little cat in her arms. She strokes her fur delicately, and Widow returns a faint purr in response, though she still refuses to move much more than that.
“Send me everything you have on Whitney and Madame Masque,” Natasha says, her determination resolving.
She’s not going to give up on you so easily.
Tony studies her for a moment, his expression knowing before he sighs and leans back in his chair.
“Already done.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
A deep sigh escapes Natasha as she rubs her tired eyes, trying to dispel the exhaustion. The hours have stretched into the late night, a glance at the window and then at the clock on her tablet confirming just how much time has passed.
Beside her on the couch, Widow is curled into a small ball, her tiny body seeming to shrink further with every passing moment.
The meal Natasha had prepared for her earlier sits barely touched—a few nibbles at best.
Though, in her tired mind, Natasha can’t help but let a stray thought creep in: maybe her cooking is bad enough to deter a cat.
The self-deprecating humor makes her sigh again, a sure sign of just how drained she feels.
Setting the tablet on the table, Natasha leans back against the armrest of the couch, her head tilting to rest against the cushion. She raises an arm to cover her eyes, allowing herself just a brief reprieve, not planning to sleep but needing the darkness to ease the strain from hours of research.
For a while, the silence wraps around her like a blanket.
Natasha focuses on her breathing, the steady rise and fall helping her ground herself.
Eventually, she debates whether she has it in her to dive back into her work for the night when a sudden movement shifts at her side.
Tiny paws pad up her torso, and then a soft weight settles against her stomach.
A familiar, distinct meow breaks the quiet—a chirping, happy sound Natasha hasn’t heard from Widow in days.
She freezes, her body going rigid as suspicion blooms in her chest. Breathing slowly, Natasha tries to maintain her sleeping position so as not to give herself away.
Widow’s sudden shift in mood—it could only mean one thing.
“I know you’re awake,” your voice cuts through the stillness, warm and teasing from just above her.
Realizing she’s caught, Natasha exhales softly with a mix of both relief at your presence but also mild frustration at the fact that you were able to sneak up on her again.
She removes her arm from her eyes, blinking up to meet your gaze.
You’re leaning casually against the back of the couch, your head tilted and resting atop the cushion, a small smirk on your lips.
“It’s way too early for you to have fallen asleep,” you tease lightly, your voice carrying that familiar playful lilt.
Your attention shifts to Widow, who’s now eagerly leaning against the cushion to lick at your outstretched hand.
“Isn’t that right, Widow?” you coo, your tone softening as you address the little cat.
Widow chirps again, louder this time, in agreement and nuzzles against your hand with obvious affection.
Natasha can’t help but scoff lightly, shaking her head at the way the two of you seem to operate as a perfect team.
Carefully, she sits up, trying not to disturb Widow perched atop her.
However, the movement brings her face unintentionally close to yours. She stills as she realizes the proximity, her lips parting slightly as the quip she intended to deliver gets caught in her throat.
Instead, all that escapes is a soft exhale.
Your smirk falters, replaced by a small, almost sad smile. Your eyes search hers, lingering as if you can see something more beyond her carefully maintained exterior.
The intensity of the moment steals Natasha’s breath, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.
Breaking the tension, you lift a hand into view, holding up a bag of takeout containers.
“I brought dinner,” you say softly, the warmth in your tone cutting through the charged silence.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha sits cross-legged on the couch, a takeout box resting limply on her lap as her attention drifts away from the half-eaten meal inside.
Instead, her gaze falls on the two of you.
You’re seated on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, also cross-legged, with Widow nestled comfortably in your lap.
The little cat looks more content than she has in days, her tiny paws resting on the edge of the table as she eagerly eats the torn-up pieces of meat you prepared for her.
A wave of relief washes over Natasha at the sight of Widow eating normally again, her movements lively and natural. It eases the knot of worry that’s been sitting in her chest, but as always, her focus inevitably drifts to you.
It’s a pull she can’t resist, her gaze lingering on the subtle details in your expression, the quiet ease with which you handle the moment.
Natasha absently stirs the noodles in her box, her mind turning over the question she’s been holding back since you arrived. It gnaws at her, but finding the right way to ask feels like navigating a minefield.
“How…” she begins, her voice hesitant, but the words falter.
Natasha bites her lip, uncertain whether she has the right to pry into your life any deeper.
You glance up at her, catching on to the unfinished question. Setting your takeout container on the table, you tilt your head slightly, offering her an easy opening.
“How am I here?” you ask knowingly, your voice gentle.
Wordlessly, Natasha nods, grateful but wary of the answer.
“You didn’t look at the USB?” you ask, a touch of curiosity in your tone.
Natasha shakes her head.
“I was busy worrying about more pressing matters,” she says, her eyes flicking meaningfully to Widow, who’s still munching happily in your lap. “And anyway, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to have it in the first place.”
You huff lightly at her words, and with an amused shake of your head, you turn Widow to face you, your fingers gently scratching behind her ears.
“You were supposed to give it to her,” you chide playfully.
Widow lets out a small, sassy meow, as if to argue her point, and then wiggles free from your grasp.
Natasha watches with mild curiosity as the little cat pads over to the side table, where the USB has sat untouched for days. Widow grabs the small device in her mouth and trots back toward Natasha.
Stopping at her side, Widow drops the USB onto Natasha’s lap with a decisive plop before looking up at her with a smug little chirp, her tail swishing behind her.
Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile as she picks up the USB.
“Thank you,” she remarks dryly, her tone soft but teasing.
Widow lets out a pleased meow, circling once before hopping back into your lap, her little body nestling comfortably against you.
Natasha’s gaze shifts to the USB, her fingers brushing over its surface thoughtfully, before lifting her eyes to meet yours.
“So,” she says, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity, “what exactly am I going to find on here?”
You glance down at Widow, stroking her head absently as you answer, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of something more.
“Whitney had a scheduled meeting out of state with some buyers tonight.”
At the mention of the other woman, Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, reading between the lines.
“So this is…?”
“Everything you need to finish your original mission,” you reply evenly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “The buyers’ identities, their locations, the details of each weapons deal. Enough to track them down and stop the weapons from being used in the wrong hands.”
Natasha studies you closely, her sharp instinct catching on to the underlying reason for your sudden assistance in her original mission.
“To shift my attention from Whitney.”
Your silence at her pointed remark is telling.
Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, the unspoken truth hanging between you. She tilts her head, her voice firmer now.
“Why are you protecting her?”
You flinch slightly at the accusation, your hand pausing mid-stroke on Widow’s fur. After a moment, you let out a sigh, your gaze drifting downward.
“You know, it wasn’t always like this between us,” you say quietly.
Natasha stays silent, letting you continue.
“Her dad—her real dad—was the original leader of the organization,” you explain, your voice tinged with something softer, almost nostalgic. “I met her when she was training to take over his position. Or, rather, she found me. I was just a simple thief back then. But not to her.”
You pause, your hand resuming its slow strokes over Widow’s fur as you collect your thoughts.
“She made me an offer—something I never expected. Another opportunity for my life. To join her. She saw something in me. Something…more.”
The words hang in the air, and Natasha feels a pang of understanding, recalling her own experience from the past.
“It felt good,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone look at you like that, like you’re worth something. Like you could be more than you ever thought of yourself.”
You let out a soft, bitter chuckle.
“She’s always been good at that. Making you feel special. Like you’re the only one who matters.”
Natasha’s gaze softens slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she listens. She doesn’t interrupt, sensing the weight behind your words.
“No matter what she did—how far she went—I always found a way to forgive her,” you continue, your tone darkening. “Until I couldn’t anymore.”
There’s a long pause, the quiet broken only by the faint sounds of Widow’s contented purring. Finally, you lift your gaze to Natasha’s, the vulnerability in your eyes stark, unguarded, and disarming.
“And then I met you,” you say softly, your voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “And for a while, I felt that same thing again. That feeling from the beginning—when it was just lighthearted, fun, and flirty, intoxicating even.”
Natasha’s breath catches, her chest tightening at the quiet admission. The honesty in your words cuts through the usual banter and teasing, leaving her unsure how to respond.
“But I already know how this ends,” you add, your voice softer now, tinged with resignation. “I’ve seen it before. And I can’t…” You trail off, shaking your head slightly, the words left unfinished.
Natasha watches you closely, her sharp gaze softening despite the weight of your rejection. She leans forward, her voice low but steady in understanding.
“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”
Her tone shifts, gaining a quiet intensity and insistence.
“But you don’t need to stay with her either. We can figure out a way to disengage the bomb without you returning to her. A way to keep you both safe.”
Your gaze lowers, regret flickering in your expression. When you finally speak, your voice is heavy with sorrow.
“I have to go back.”
Natasha’s lips part in protest, her brows knitting together in frustration, but before she can speak, you cut her off, your tone firmer now.
“Not because of the bomb,” you clarify. “But because of what I did to her.”
You rise slowly, retrieving the tablet from the table, its screen still displaying the research Tony sent on Whitney. Sensing the shift, Widow hops into Natasha’s lap, purring softly as Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself.
Sitting down beside her, you scroll through the files until you find what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you turn the screen toward her.
Natasha scans the report, her frown deepening with each line.
It details a failed raid on a Stark Industries facility, ending in a catastrophic explosion. Operatives were killed or gravely injured. Their leader, however, was not discovered among those found.
“I abandoned her that night,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “None of that would have happened if I had stayed.”
“You don’t know that,” Natasha counters firmly, her gaze snapping to yours, her hand reaching out instinctively to rest atop yours.
A faint, sad smile tugs at your lips at her touch, and you shake your head slightly.
“I appreciate the thought,” you reply, your voice tinged with bittersweet humor, “but we both know that’s not true—especially considering how I’ve managed to sneak past Stark’s defenses twice now without any problems.”
The smirk you add at the end is small, almost fleeting, but it carries a sting of truth that Natasha can’t ignore.
You’re exceptionally skilled. She can’t deny that.
Your fingers brush hers lightly, tracing the bandages covering her knuckles. A contemplative sadness crosses your face.
Then slowly, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft, almost apologetic kiss against her skin before lowering it back onto Widow’s fur.
“I’m not innocent here, Natasha,” you continue resolutely, your voice low, as if the words are for you as much as for her. “I never was.”
Natasha’s jaw tightens at your words, but she doesn’t interrupt as you continue.
“I owe her a lot,” you admit, your voice heavy with the weight of your past. “She gave me a chance when no one else did. She saw something in me that I couldn’t. And yet…” Your voice falters slightly, but you press on.
“I still betrayed her in the end.”
Your gaze shifts to Natasha, your eyes meeting hers with a depth of emotion that makes her chest ache.
“You deserve more than to wait for me to eventually do the same to you,” you say softly. “More than I already have.”
Natasha’s chest tightens, the quiet ache spreading as she watches you, her gaze taking in every flicker of pain and regret etched across your features.
But this time, it’s not sadness that rises within her—it’s anger. Not at you, but at everything else.
At Whitney, for manipulating you. At the circumstances that have pushed you to this breaking point. And most of all, at the invisible chains of guilt that hold you hostage, preventing you from seeing a way out.
Her hands twitch, the urge to reach for you almost overwhelming. She wants to close the distance between you, to grasp your shoulders and shake you free from the weight of your past, to tell you that this isn’t your only option.
But she hesitates, her fingers curling into fists as she forces herself to stop.
Forcing you to accept her help, no matter how badly she wants to, would make her no different from Whitney. It would just be another form of control, another pressure you don’t deserve.
And Natasha refuses to become that.
Instead, after a long pause, she speaks with quiet determination.
“What will happen to Widow?”
You look down at the small cat, curled up peacefully in Natasha’s lap, and sigh.
“I can’t bring her back with me,” you admit, your voice thick with regret. “But I’ll stay with her as long as I can tonight. Make sure she’s okay, and I’ll explain it to her—let her think it’s like last time, when she stayed with you while I was away.”
You glance at Natasha, searching for her response.
“If…you’re still willing to take care of her?”
Natasha straightens slightly, her expression softening as a small smirk forms on her lips.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
Your lips twitch into a faint smile at her answer, gratitude flickering in your eyes.
But Natasha isn’t done. She leans forward, her tone resolute as her gaze locks onto yours.
“You don’t have to keep punishing yourself,” she says, her words deliberate and carefully chosen. “If you feel guilty about what you’ve done, you can always make it right for yourself. You still have that choice.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, an unspoken plea woven into her steady tone.
Natasha’s expression holds no judgment, only quiet insistence and something deeper—hope.
The silence that follows feels fragile, as if it could shatter at the wrong move.
Widow shifts slightly in her lap, her tiny body curling closer as her soft purring fills the space between you.
It’s a faint sound, but comforting nonetheless, grounding you in a moment that feels far too heavy for words.
For a fleeting second, Natasha sees something in your eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker, as if her words might be reaching you.
But then your gaze drops, breaking the connection, and the moment slips away.
Without a word, you gently lift Widow from her lap, cradling her with the same care Natasha has come to associate with you, and rise to your feet.
Natasha sits up a little straighter, her sharp eyes following your movements as you step toward the hallway, your figure outlined by the dim glow of the room.
“Try to get some rest, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone steady but carrying a subtle finality that roots her in place. You pause just before disappearing from sight, your head turning slightly as if debating whether to say more.
“You, out of everyone, deserve it.”
The words linger in the air long after you’ve gone into your bedroom, wrapping around Natasha like a quiet echo.
She stays where she is, her fingers drifting absentmindedly over the fabric of the couch where you’d been sitting just moments ago, as if tracing the memory of you.
The warmth of your presence is gone, replaced by an emptiness that spreads through the room, making it feel colder, quieter.
Natasha exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch and staring at the space where you had disappeared from her view.
She knows you meant those words for her, but the ache in her chest tells her they’re something you’ve denied yourself for far too long.
“So do you,” she whispers into the empty room, her voice barely audible but filled with a longing that she knows you’ll never let yourself hear.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
a/n: Fair warning, I believe there’s only a couple parts left in this series. But don’t quote me on this cause we all know I’ve never been good at predicting the number of chapters left. Again thanks for reading!
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The Imperfect Couple - 1 | Bucky
Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist
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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
You were exhausted. Having just returned from covering another incident, you were familiar with the grueling reality of being a journalist in a foreign country.
Limited access compared to local reporters made the job even more challenging. Despite your fatigue, this was the career you had chosen and loved.
When you arrived at your apartment, you noticed a woman waiting for you. She was shorter and bustier than you, with curly, short red hair. The woman approached you with a confident stride.
“Hello. My name is Natasha,” she introduced herself, handing you a business card.
You glanced at the card, noting her affiliation with the Secret Service.
Is this for real?
“Yes. How may I help you?” You asked, confusion evident in your voice as you fumbled with your keys at the doorknob.
“I’m here to bring you back home,” Natasha replied.
“Why?” you asked, still trying to process why a Secret Service agent would be looking for you.
“Because your husband is looking for you,” Natasha said.
You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you had just heard. Turning slowly, you looked at Natasha, your face betraying a hint of incredulous amusement. “I’m sorry? You must be mistaken. I’ve been divorced for years.”
“Yes, I know the story,” Natasha said, her tone steady.
“Goodbye then,” you said quickly, attempting to close the door. The mention of your ex-husband was something you had left behind, and you wanted nothing to do with it.
“The divorce was never finalized,” Natasha said firmly.
“What?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You had signed the documents, or so you thought. You swung the door open wide and saw two more men standing beside Natasha, their presence making it clear you were outnumbered—three to one.
“Seems like you’ve come to understand the situation,” Natasha said. “I’ll explain everything, but for now, you need to follow me.”
What she meant by following her quickly became apparent as the men gently but firmly guided you toward a car.
Inside, you hoped Natasha would provide answers, but she continued making calls, leaving you in a state of growing frustration.
Upon arriving at the airport, you realized it was not a regular one but a private jet facility.
“Let’s go,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the plane’s stairs.
As you climbed aboard, you noticed Natasha following closely behind. An air steward offered you a tray with a cup of jasmine tea. You took a sip, the delicate aroma providing a brief moment of comfort.
“Let me guess, this is his plane?” you asked, your tone tinged with suspicion.
“Yes,” Natasha nodded.
As the plane took off, the tension in the cabin was palpable.
“You still haven’t said a word,” you remarked, trying to break the silence.
“Because of the timing and for precautions,” Natasha said, her expression serious. “You won’t like what I’m going to say.”
“Tell me something I don’t hate more. You know how much I despise my ex-husband and his family,” you snapped, the bitterness clear in your voice. The memories of their interference and disdain for your background still stung deeply.
“Your husband is going to be the candidate for Vice President,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the news.
“...What?” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you processed the information.
Natasha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out a tablet and handed it to you. On the screen, you saw a video of your ex-husband. He stood proudly in a suit, smiling and raising his arms as the crowd erupted in cheers.
The title beneath the video read, “James Barnes: The Youngest Candidate for Vice President.”
You gasped, your disbelief palpable. “This is a joke.”
“Hundreds of supporters don’t think it’s a joke, ma’am,” Natasha replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
“And the reason I’m here is because he needs you,” she continued.
You clenched your fists in anger. The reason for your resentment was clear: his ambition and his family’s obsessive involvement in politics. Their relentless meddling had been one of the key reasons for your separation.
“Turn this plane around,” you demanded, your voice strained. You didn’t understand why, but exhaustion was overtaking you, and your eyes felt heavy.
Natasha glanced at her watch, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “You must be feeling sleepy.”
You widened your eyes and looked at the tea cup, realizing its effects. You shot Natasha a glare, frustration mixing with fatigue.
“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” Natasha said, accepting a blanket from the air stewardess.
You wanted to protest, but the energy drained from you. As your vision dimmed, you felt a wave of drowsiness. You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep.
Natasha watched you as you fell asleep, then carefully draped the blanket over you. She turned to her colleagues with a resolute expression. “Tell him to pick up his wife.”
✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️
You slowly regained consciousness, your head feeling heavy and foggy. As you blinked open your eyes, the reality of your surroundings became clear: you were still on the airplane, but it had stopped moving. The plane had arrived, and you were still groggy from the drugs.
“Welcome home,” a familiar voice said.
You widened your eyes, trying to focus on the figure before you. There, standing with a knowing smile, was your ex-husband, Bucky.
His smile seemed almost out of place given the situation, and you found it impossible to return it. You struggled to sit up, your limbs feeling leaden.
“Of course,” you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. “The last thing I needed was to wake up and see your smug face.”
Bucky’s expression remained impassive. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to offend the future Vice President.”
“Future Vice President, huh?” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Is that why you dragged me back here? You need a trophy wife to complete your perfect image?”
“You’re not just a trophy wife,” Bucky said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re a crucial part of my public image. A divorce would be a PR disaster.”
“Is that right?” you snapped. “You’re using me as a prop, aren’t you? You couldn’t just leave me alone. Some of us have lives outside your political games.”
“You think this is bad?” Bucky said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Imagine what would happen if the public found out about our separation. It’s all about maintaining appearances.”
“You’re still the same,” you said, your anger flaring.
Bucky’s expression hardened. “Let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have left if you didn’t think I was using you. But if you think this is a game, you’re wrong. I need you to play along until the election.”
“And if I refuse?” you challenged.
“One year,” Bucky said, his gaze steady. “Until the election is over. Then I’ll give you anything you want. Just play the part of a happy wife until then.”
You knew why he needed you. His political career depended on maintaining a perfect public image. Only a few people were aware of your separation, so you had to pretend to be a happy married couple to avoid public scrutiny.
As you struggled to stand, Bucky stepped forward to help you. His touch was steady but impersonal. Both of you exited the jet, greeted by a throng of press and cameras. The narrative they were fed was clear: the Vice Presidential candidate picking up his sick wife.
With the press closing in, you turned to Bucky and said, “I see you’ve thought this through. Dragging me back here like a prized possession. What’s next? A public appearance where we hold hands and share a tearful reunion?”
Bucky met your gaze with a calm but resolute expression. “It’s not just about appearances. The election is critical, and I need stability. Having you here will help maintain that.”
“You’re the only one I could turn to. I need you,” he said.
The words “I need you” echoed with the same urgency he once used, the very words that had drawn you to him. But now, they felt hollow.
Bucky’s expression remained unchanged. He had no apologies to offer, and the facade of your ‘happy marriage’ had to remain intact.
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