Such Rage In Such A Little Body

such rage in such a little body

the prince [2]

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig, fanfic gojo, ooc gojo

✢ a/n: here's part 2! i'd like to emphasize that depsite this being a gojo x reader fic, the main realationships i'll be focusing on are y/n and the kids gojo brings home lmao. also im raw dogging the lore as we go so if there are any inconsistencies, please lmk. as always, have fun and lmk what you think!

i don’t do taglists.

part one ✢ masterlist

If it were up to you, you would have shut the gates of the Gojo estate as soon as the child entered the grounds, but your husband had given him the the maids so quickly that you’re sure they have spread the word around already. You could hear the rumors in your head. Gojo Satoru has brought home a child out of wedlock. Gojo Y/N is barren. Gojo Satoru has a mistress.

You expected Gojo to be frantic, stumbling over his words in explanation as to why he has a son- it was his son, there was no doubt about that- reassuring you about his vows remain unbroken, or whatever else but silence. You are silent too as you watch the child get scurried away by the estate staff to scrub the dirt off his face and to get a change of clothes.

Even as he is being escorted away from you, his cursed energy did not fade. You feel it like how everyone feels Gojo’s, but more raw and untamed. Whoever this child is, it is Gojo Satoru reborn again.

Silence. Silence is what took the Gojo estate into a chokehold as the maids finish bathing the child and then put him in a spare bedroom a good distance away from yours. The maids must think you resent him.

Satoru pretends like everything is the same as if the boy had been there since the beginning. During the first night, you watch with a blank face as the cake you've baked for him is eaten by the child. Neither the boy nor Satoru expresses their gratitude towards you. You doubt they even know you baked it.

To his credit, Satoru had treated the child better than you had expected. He is blossoming into fatherhood, you realize and you feel the rage and anger burn in your stomach.

He pats the boy's head and messes his hair, before pointing to his own messy mane exclaiming, "See? We match!"

Satoru had tried to include you in conversations with the boy, even daring to seat him on his right at meals. Satoru would blab after seeing the child gobble mochi. "Mochi is Y/N's favorite too!" He turns to look at you with a bright smile. "Right, Y/N?"

You want to point out that the boy had gobbled everything served to him, but you just give a brief nod.

At night, you sleep like a log- rigid, straight, and quiet. Satoru, on the other hand, remains comfortable, snoozing the day's exhaustion behind him.

Tonight will be the same as it has been for the past few weeks. You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity, wondering if your reflection is the perfect example of a foolish woman. How stupid of you to think he was different.

There was nothing but quiet as you prepare yourself to sleep, brushing your hair quietly. You hear the door creak but you do not turn and greet him with a smile like you used to.

“I expected you to be more emotional about this,” came Satoru's words beside you. Me too, you want to reply but held your mouth shut.

You had expected yourself to scream, and let your anger flow through your voice. You wanted to cry until your tears were dry and there wasn't any left. Neither you nor Satoru would be surprised if you use your technique against him in a fit of fury, and if you truly knew your husband, you know he'd take your anger like it was penance. You want to be the fire that burns him badly. But you did none of those.

You are as cold as their blue eyes. You are quiet.

You continue to brush your hair.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" offers Satoru. "Just say the word, and I will."

You blink in surprise. You meet his eyes in the mirror. Satoru looks nonchalant in his posture with his hands in his pockets. But the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen tells you he is not joking.

Your ears recall the promise he made months ago. My wife, my equal. A promise to try, to try to be happy to spite everyone who was determined to make your lives miserable.

The sudden exhaustion hit you, your shoulders slumping from your previous postures. You lean back, letting your nape rest on the back of the chair. You stare at the ceiling, your head forbidding you to forget how the child looked like. White hair. Blue eyes. You hear Satoru sigh somewhere near you. You hear his footsteps come. From your peripheral, you see his figure beside you. A feather-like hesitant hand touches your shoulder. “I was not unfaithful to you.”

Satoru moves to kneel in front of your sitting figure. He reaches out to your head, and touches his forehead against yours. You find yourself looking up at his eyes, the same shade of eyes that he shares with the child. His hands cradle your face, desperate for you to believe him. “Please. Please, Y/N.”

You remain silent.

“You’re the only one I have left, Y/N, please.” He begs. There are tears threatening to spill down to his pretty face, and you find some sick satisfaction in them.

That is not true. Your husband has his clan, his estate servants, his high school friends, and his teachers. It is you that has no one but him. By your culture’s traditions, you do not belong to your clan anymore. You know that some elders have begun to doubt their choice in choosing you as the wife of Gojo Satoru with the obvious lack of children, but with the sudden appearance of Gojo-sama’s bastard child, they might annul your marriage by force- or, god forbid, cast you aside for another, more fertile woman.

You do not wish to share your thoughts, but your husband grips your head so desperately. You have made a god beg.

“I know.” You say. The child may be young, but he was old enough to walk and talk small phrases on his own. He must be at least two years old. The child is older than your marriage.

His shoulders immediately drop in relief before quickly detangling himself from you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He slides his head to hide in your neck and like instinct, you welcome him wrapping your hands around his waist.

"Where would you leave him?" You manage to ask, still not believing his offer.

"The cabin," he says. You can see the cracks on your husband now. You spot his hand making a fist inside his pockets, like it pains him to speak. “The one by Nagasaki, remember? I’ll send a maid and give him money every month. We can send him right now. The maids will not say anything outside the estate, not if I threaten to chop their tongues off. We can send him off with a caretaker to a cabin somewhere and leave him there. I- I can visit him a few times a year- just to make sure he’s fine.”

You blink. You did not expect Satoru to offer that. You let the fantasy linger in your head. You imagine the boy’s life so far- abandoned by his mother and unknown by his father. Children do not understand things the way older people do, so it is up to the adults to help and explain certain things. But he has not had an adult in his life before. Would you be happy if you were left alone in the cabin in the middle of the woods with no one but a caretaker for company? Better yet- will the caretaker even stay to care for him without anyone around?

That sounds incredibly lonely, you realize. The premise sounds all too familiar to you- an empty house with no one but servants. But this boy will only get one.

He needs people to protect him, but you are unsure if you’d like to. Your instincts tell you to agree, get rid of the boy before he becomes more of a threat.

“Satoru,” you say slowly, thinking of your next words carefully. “He is just child. He is no danger to me.”

You hold your breath, suprised to hear the words out of your mouth. From your lap, Satoru holds your gaze- piercing eyes trying to read your mind. If he caught your lie he does not show it.

"Are you sure?"

No. "Yes."

Hiroki. Satoru had names him Gojo Hiroki.

He spends most of his days inside the estate surrounded by maids or inside his room playing with the toys you off-handedly ordered the day after he arrived. The maids gush about him already, the older ones excitedly murmuring how the little lord acts so much like your husband as a child. You would be a fool not to agree.

Hiroki runs barefoot through the estate, tracking mud on precious tatami floors before a servant finally catches him. He likes people, likes the maids and the servants, and thus has migrated to the kitchen a few weeks after his arrival like he was addicted to places were people are the most. He draws. He draws so much it’s almost ridiculous. You could have a library full of childish scribbles.

Like your husband, he devours his dessert the best before any dish. He eats mochi, ice cream, cookies and whatever sweets there are on the table like it was his last meal. You recall one of the maids gasp as a drop of cream lands on your cheek when he slammed his fork in his cake.

Satoru is free in his affection for the boy, unexpectedly flourishing in fatherhood. He remains firm in his belief that children should be children and makes an effort to see Hiroki out. Satoru becomes known to sneak the child away from the estate to parks, to mini-vacations you begrudgingly join after Satoru’s incessant pestering. And of course- school. Hiroki made history once again when Satoru announced his decision to enroll Hiroki in a totally normal, public Japanese preschool.

You realize that Satoru was meant to be a father. And one good one at that. It brings you comfort that any children that he is at least good to his son after he confessed his plan to be a teacher after graduation.

Tokyo’s jujutsu highschool would be blessed with his presence, thought one of Satoru’s female seniors would disagree.

“Yo, Y/N-chan,” came a voice.

You twist your body over to the source of the voice, and your face lights up at the sight of a familiar face. “Getou-san!”

If Satoru's presence is an overwhelming force, making everyone and everything bow to him as if he is god, Getou is a dark, uneasy, slinking feeling. His cat-like features morph into a happy expression with a polite smile on his lips.

“Is there a mission today?” You ask as Getou comes nearer. Satoru would try his best to keep any of his classmates away from his estate, but there is nothing he can hide from Getou and Shoko. "Can I come?"

After you had let slip that you wanted to become a licensed sorcerer, Satoru had made it a habit to sneak you into some missions with Getou. You had fretted about the technical legalities and questioned the safety of the public when an inexperienced sorcerer like you enter the battlefield but Satoru merely shrugged and simply gestured to his best friend. We're the strongest!

Getou leans his shoulder on the wall. "Nope, not this one Y/N."

“I see,” you say, failing to hide your disappointment. Sometimes you wonder why you enjoy the missions so much. Was it the thrill of doing something you never would? Perhaps it was the freedom of it all, unleashing your power to poor curses who quiver beneath your feet?

Your ears perked at a familiar high pitched laugh, and your eyes immediately lock to the window where Hiroki soon runs across. He has dried soil on his feet. His pale hair is slicked back with sweat and it glistens against the sun like snow.

A maid forces a laugh in panic as she tries to catch him with his shoes on one hand.

Away from him. That’s why you enjoy it.

Getou follows your line of sight. “How is he?”

You glare at him. “How would I know?”

Everyone knows that Hiroki is a taboo topic if it’s within your earshot, lest they want the you in a foul mood. But Getou does not shy away from his question and only raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.

“You’re telling me you do not know your own household?”

“The garden is his place,” you sigh., and admitting it felt like defeat. “He likes the grass on his feet and likes big spaces. He gets angsty when a room is too small.”

“Mmhm,” Getou agrees. “Did you know Satoru plans to enroll him in a daycare?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “In a- what?” You shriek. “He has a dozen of servants here willing to serve him-! Does he even realize the risk he’s putting the boy in? Assassins, curses, cursed users…” you trail off, remembering your own childhood. It was strange to be surrounded by servants but feeling so alone at the same time. “I see.” A daycare meant potential friends, friends that you never got to have. “Does…does the boy like it at least?”

“Me?” Getou barks out a surprised laugh. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

You glare at him. Getou meets your gaze unapologetically, almost as if he was challenging you. Finally, he sighs. “Have you ever talked to him at least?”

You roll your eyes. Your sharp tone echoes around the room. “And why would I do that? He is no concern to me.”

"He needs you."

"He does not need me," you snap, suddenly impatient for Satoru to come out of wherever he’s hiding so Getou and him can go. “He will resent me when he’s older, I know it.”

You have seen this same scene over and over again. Children and the wife of the husband do not get along. Both suffer at the existence of the other. This is the fate that Satoru had subjected you to. This is the fate you have set upon yourself when you refused to send him away. You wonder if your kindness will cost you one day.

“Well,” Getou shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t given him any reason to like you either.”

You opened your mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Satoru.

“Getouu,” he whined, comically trudging towards his best friend with a hunched back. “Why are you so early?”

You see Getou open his mouth to reply, but you are lost in your head. You watch Getou ignore Satoru’s childish gimmicks, already dragging him out of the room and towards the door. You feel Satoru kiss your cheek before waving goodbye, but your head was in a daze mindlessly repeating Getou’s words. You feel shiver creep down your spine before shifting your gaze towards the garden where Hiroki’s presence was last.

thank you so much for reading guys! i’d love to hear all criticisms and suggestions for this universe <33 please lmk through comments :>

here’s my masterlist

2K notes View Post

piscesatthesea

3 years ago

the dichotomy of clothing

Aizawa x Chubby Fem Reader

Word Count: 2,465

CW: smut, praise, oral (fem receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, pet names (kitten, pretty girl, princess, etc), some degredation (use of the words slutty and dirty, but it's all said with love), cum eating (i guess?), as always proceed with caution 💕

You really shouldn’t have worn this outfit. You should’ve known better than to wear something like this.

To be fair, you were looking at these clothes from an innocent perspective. You chose to wear an oversized hoodie that had just arrived in the mail, black with cat ears on the hood, white pompoms hanging on the strings. It was sinfully soft and warm, perfect for protecting you from the recent cold weather. You paired it with a pair of your boyfriend’s old boxers, ones that squeezed your hips but had stretched out with wear. You didn’t want to bother yourself with sweatpants and socks, finding it too troublesome at the time. You instead chose a pair of black thigh high socks that were gifted to you by Nemuri during New Year’s. They had pink toes on the bottom of the feet, imitating cat paws, making the socks seem more like a gag gift than an actual present. They were, however, thick and warm and, surprisingly, reached the tops of your thighs with ease. There was no painful squeeze or excessive stretching of the fabric: they were made for plump legs like yours. Naturally, you fell in love with them instantly, wearing them the first time you wore your new hoodie. It was a simple outfit, comfortable. You chose it because it was practical for lazing around the apartment on your day off, a rational choice for draping yourself over the couch and curling up with your cats.

But Aizawa had an opposing perspective of your clothes.

You should’ve realized that a man, especially one that was attracted to you, would see this outfit differently than you did. Yes, he may have agreed the outfit was comfortable and perfect for relaxation, but his eyes saw otherwise. This wasn’t just a casual outfit to him; no, it was cute, seductive, innocently scandalous. In his mind, you purposefully chose this outfit to rile him up, tease him, make him hard the moment he saw you. The way you cutely waddled to the front door to greet him, your smile rounding your cheeks, arms outstretched for a hug: it made him want to devour you where you stood.

The dichotomy of clothing, you assume.

Based on his perspective of things, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he lifted you without so much as a greeting, carrying you to your bedroom and kicking the door shut, much to your cats’ dismay.

“You knew I had a bad day, didn’t you?” he asked rhetorically, dropping you to the bed, already reaching under your hoodie and peeling off your underwear. You protested, asking what had gotten into him, insisting that he sit down and relax before thinking about doing something lewd with you.

It was all for nothing. Your words fizzled out the moment he parted your ample thighs.

Shouta wished he could live here, resting between your perfect legs, face buried into your chubby cunt. He hated coming up for air, wishing his quirk allowed him to go without oxygen for extended periods of time. Every minute away from your flawless cunt was time wasted in his eyes.

It was only natural that he had to make up for all that lost time away from you.

His hands were so large and yet couldn’t hold enough of you, your fat spilling over his calloused fingers. He squeezed to his heart’s content, his cock throbbing as his hands trailed along your skin, grateful that there was always more to hold and caress. His mouth worked tirelessly at your cunt, tongue spelling out his name, silently claiming you as his own. Lips curled around your clit, sucking you into his mouth, making you mewl. He couldn’t stand the sounds you made, the breathless whines and pitiful gasps, every vocalization making precum leak from his tip. What he wouldn’t give to hear those sounds on repeat throughout the day.

“Sh-Shou, fuck, hnng!” Your thighs squeezed against his cheeks, earning a low groan that only heightened your senses, the vibrations pushing you over the edge without warning. Your cum gushed out of you, instantly swallowed by the handsome man below you. The slurps and moans you heard made your body burn, your arm instinctively covering your face out of embarrassment.

“Don’t you dare,” Aizawa muttered against your pussy lips, grabbing both your wrists and holding them down at your sides. “You’re not hiding from me, not tonight. I need this, every last bit.”

The second orgasm he pulled out of you had you trembling, and the third one resulted in you squirting all over him, the lower half of his face absolutely drenched. You were mortified by the entire thing, scrambling to pull away and hide from him, to apologize for making such a mess. You hated that he just held you tighter, lapping up every drop that had burst from your core, ignoring your pleas for him to finally let you go so you could hide your humiliated expression.

“I love how dirty you get for me, kitten,” he exhaled as he propped himself up on his elbows, getting up on his knees and pulling his shirt over his head. “Love how desperate you get for my cock.”

“You’re so mean, Shou,” you whined, hands covering your face, praying it would let you disappear.

“I am, aren’t I?” You gasped when you felt the head of his cock nudge your entrance, his length sliding up and down your pussy, coating himself in your slick. “I’m awful. Just the worst boyfriend ever. You oughta break up with me before I hurt you even more.” You peeked through your fingers, pouting up at him.

“Shou, I didn’t—hah!”

He had bottomed out while you were distracted, his nude figure towering over you, lips curled into a smirk.

“See? Told ya. Worst boyfriend you could ask for. Didn’t even let my pretty girl finish her sentence.”

“Y-You—oh my god—you’re so—fuck!”

“That’s it, baby,” he sighed, rocking his hips into you gently, thrusting shallowly so you could adjust to his cock. “Squeeze down on me just like that.”

You whined, hands pressing to his chest, instinctively pushing him back. He didn’t budge, didn’t move a centimeter, only bringing your hand to his face so he could kiss your palm.

“You’re so cute, ya know that?” You hiccupped, shutting your eyes and turning your head away.

“Sh-Shut up—”

“Awww, is my little kitten feeling shy?” His hips pulled back just to slam forward, driving you up the bed, making you cry out. “Gonna break that habit of yours eventually. Tired of my pretty girl hiding from me.”

Aizawa pulled back out, thrusting back into you and beginning a moderate pace. He was being generous, holding off from pounding into your little cunt, turning your limbs into jelly. Despite how “considerate” he was being, the tempo he had started was still breath-taking, leaving your eyes and mouth wide open.

“Oh my—fuck—S-Shou, Shou!”

“There’s my girl,” he breathed, leaning down to pepper kisses along your plump cheeks. “Missed my slutty little kitten. Missed this tight pussy and those pretty moans. Be a good girl for me and moan a little louder, okay?”

His speed increased suddenly, causing you to do just as he asked. Your needy moans were filling the room to the brim, echoing off the walls, drowning out the slap of his drenched balls on your ass. God, you could only imagine how much the neighbors could hear.

“Doing so good for me, princess,” he praised as he sat up, adjusting slightly before slamming back into you, pulling up your hoodie as he did so. He tucked the hem above your tits, groaning as he watched your now exposed torso bounce along with his thrusts. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. Been thinking about your gorgeous body all week.”

“Shou, oh my god, fuck, yes!” The head of his dick bumped against your g-spot endlessly, your pleasure mounting as your hands scrambled between grasping at the sheets and his forearms. “So good—fuck—feels s-so good!”

“I can feel you getting tighter. You gonna cum for me, princess?” His hand slipped between the two of you, his thumb finding your clit and pushing against it. You cried out, breath quickening, eyes rolling back. “That’s it, let go for me, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on this cock.”

You couldn’t have held back if you tried. The growing pressure in your cunt was becoming too much, your body climbing higher and higher until you tumbled over the edge, a guttural groan escaping you as you spasmed on his cock. Your fingernails dragged along his chest, faint red trails left behind, making him moan at the sensation. He slowed slightly, his thrusts turning into patient rolls as he guided you through your orgasm, bringing you down from your high.

“Good girl, so proud of you.” Your moans melted into breathy giggles, your body shaking as you laughed, drunk off of the euphoric feeling you just experienced. Aizawa smirked, leaning down, brushing his nose against yours. “Aw, did my little kitten like that one? Did it feel good?”

“Uh-huuuuh,” you slurred, biting your lip, trying to stifle your giggles. Shouta didn’t allow it, capturing your mouth with his, forcing his tongue past your lips. Your laughter melted into moans, the sweet sounds swallowed by your boyfriend. His hands moved to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as his tongue swirled around yours. He broke the kiss too soon for your liking, his lips curling at the corners when you tried to follow him as he pulled away. He cupped your chin, his fingers pressed into your cheeks.

“You’re so pretty when you cum.” His eyes darkened, wild hair shading his expression. “Say it for me.” You mewled, lips pushed into a pout as he squished your cheeks together.

“I’m sho pwetty when I cum.” He chuckled, leaning down and latching his teeth onto your plump cheek. He bit into soft flesh gently, earning him a cute whine and wiggle of your hips.

“Yeah, you are. Think you can cum for me again?”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed as he sucked on the fat of your jaw. He released his grip on you, pulling back to smirk down at you.

“That’s my girl.” You let him lift your sock-clad legs up onto his shoulders, moaning when he pressed his weight into the back of your thighs and brought your knees to your shoulders. “Bear with me, kitten; I’m pretty pent up.”

You couldn’t respond. He snapped his hips into yours, his cock reaching deeper than before, making your jaw hang open. His pace was brutal, the sound of your slapping skin so loud that it could’ve been mistaken for gunshots. The sudden onslaught of pleasure made you see stars, your eyes rolling into your skull as your hands clawed at his muscular back.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” he panted, eyes squeezing shut as he focused on your plush walls. Your cunt was so overstimulated that it had turned puffy and squishy, soft as pillows as he fucked into you. Despite how overworked you were, you still squeezed his cock deliciously, your cunt still so fucking tight despite your multiple orgasms.

He tucked his face into your chest, groaning into your skin as he picked up speed again. You moaned weakly beneath him, voice hitching as his mouth found your nipple and sucked it mercilessly. You could feel your eyes water when he introduced his teeth, a spark of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as he bit down on your perky nipple.

“Fuck, Shou, I-I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he breathed, kissing the sore spot he left behind. “I’m right there with you.”

Hands tightened on your hips, grasping your love handles as if they were his only link to reality. He loved getting lost in the feel of you, your warm, sopping cunt, your plump frame squished against his chiseled physique. A lamb in a sea of crocodiles, soft and delicate, a safe haven amongst the cruel world around him.

He didn’t deserve you.

“Shit—tell me where you want it,” he spit between gritted teeth, struggling to hold on until you answered. You moaned wantonly, trying to curl your legs around him and bring him closer.

“—nside, i-inside!”

“Fuck.” His hand slithered between the two of you once more, palming the fat of your tummy before sneaking past your mound, flicking at your clit desperately. Your breath hitched, hips rolling hopelessly, failing to meet his thrusts as your orgasm grew closer.

It wasn’t long before you came, Aizawa following right after. The scream you gave was heavenly, your walls clamping down on him as his hips stuttered. He thrust weakly into you, emptying his balls into your warm cunt, filling you to the brim. You could feel rope after rope of hot cum spilling into you, your climax fading as you gasped for air. Shouta was panting too, his back rising and falling, face tucked into your neck. He pulled back a moment later, keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs as he slipped his cock out of you, groaning softly as he watched your combined fluids leak out of your precious cunt.

“Don’t move,” he mumbled, keeping you folded as he leaned down. “I want to taste.”

His tongue pushed inside you before you could protest. The wet muscle made you keen, body trembling in his grasp as he lapped up his and your cum. He slurped up the liquid, not wasting a drop. He was almost glowing when he pulled away, licking the excess off his lips as he released your legs, guiding them to the bed. He crawled closer to you, resting his head against your stomach before he slumped on top of you, weighing you down with him. Your fingers instinctively carded through his hair, untangling the tiny knots that had gathered throughout the day, your heart rate lowering as your body began to calm down.

He mumbled something a few minutes later, once the two of you had finally caught your breath.

“What’d you say?” you sighed, tucking your chin to look down at him. He took a deep breath, turning his head so that his cheek was against your plush tummy instead of his mouth.

“I said, ‘I love you’.” You huffed slightly, smiling as your head hit the mattress.

“I love you too, Shou.” He hummed, arms sliding underneath you, hugging you close to him. You kept combing through his hair, tilting your head to glance at him. “So, you had a bad day? What happened?” Aizawa shrugged, nuzzling into you, eyes heavy with the best kind of exhaustion.

“I don’t even remember.”

1K notes View Post

piscesatthesea

1 year ago

The psychiatrist diagnosed me with divine madness

102K notes View Post

piscesatthesea

4 years ago

Omg I love your writing so much!! Thanks for all the Yelena content😔‼️ Can i request hc of goth Yelena (who maybe wears Demonias😳) with a fem reader who’s really soft and basically the exact opposite? Thank you!!🥰

✨Of course! Of course! Thank you so much for requesting this! This is sadly pretty short as I’ve used a lot of my creativity on the Valentine’s Day special I’m writing!✨

♥️Goth! Yelena with a Soft! S/O♥️

✨Warnings: None!✨

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

•Let’s get one thing straight, Yelena never saw herself getting with someone so soft! But, you were absolutely adorable and her little goth heart couldn’t help but flutter once she laid eyes on you!

• She ended up asking you out in her last year of highscool; she was a year older than you and you found her extremely intimidating. I mean come on! This 6’7, short haired, demonia wearing girl had asked YOU— someone who was extremely small and usually found comfort in wearing soft pastel sweaters and cute little butterfly clips in their hair, out!

•Of course you said yes. I mean; Yelena was smoking hot, intimidating or not! And, you wanted to give this beauty a chance!

•Let me just say; you regrets absolutely nothing! Yelena was so soft with you! She treated you like an absolute goddess!

•Of course over the years of dating, both of you had gotten so many weird looks and exchanges at the fact that someone so soft was dating someone so gothic!

•For your one year anniversary, Yelena bought you these really cute pastel converse shoes that had little butterflies designed on them! You ended up getting her these really HUGE platform boots for her! They had spikes on them and everything. She wore them every single day!

•Yelena’s all-time favorite outfit she’s seen you in by far was this really adorable pinky bunny jacket, which you wore over a white tank top and a light pink skirt! She found you absolutely adorable and called you her litte; “Bunny” for the next month!

•She loves seeing you show her all of your new accessories and clips you had gotten at any of the stores at the malls.

•In turn, she will always show you her cool bracelets and chokers she would get.

•Overall, Yelena LOVES you. She loves your style, she loves how soft you are! Opposites atttact, they really do!