#LOOK AT HIS WONDERFUL SIDE RN🙏

[toxic-gaymer]

@mr-candle-maker

Art collab with my brother @mr-candle-maker :)

[sweeterlovers]

FOR YOU / CHARLES LECLERC + LOGAN SARGEANT

logan sagreant x leclerc ex & youtuber reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / addy kate

WARNINGS / cheating and logan is still on the grid with williams

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INSTAGRAM

liked by f1gossip, f1girlfriends, and 56,825 others

f1wagupdates Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Y/N L/N have broken up. They announced through instagram!

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user6 i wonder why they broke up???

user11 THEY WERE SO CUTE WTF

user00 he lost a 10/10

user8 did you guys notice how they didn’t say it was a mutual decision??

user7 i think charles cheated (again)

user33 once a cheater always a cheater

user0 she probably deserved it

user44 BFFR

user66 💔 💔 💔

user9 give it a day and we’ll find out what really happened

user6 what do you know?????

user9 the truth always come out

user24 they were so cute

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TWITTER

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INSTAGRAM

liked by yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 178,626 others

yourusername in my reputation era 🖤

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user2 mother is mothering

user99 modern princess diana

user0 gorgeous

yourbsf his loss

yourusername ❤️❤️

user77 the fact that he’s still liking her posts

user1 ✨ O B S E S S E D ✨

user3 the dress is adorable 🎀🎀

user262 going to miss seeing her in the paddock

user3 logan and y/n were my favorite americans on the grid

user986 she should get with logan 😭😭

user22 ughhhh she’s too pretty

user4 reputation taylor’s version????

user555 it’s a need

yourusername i would die if she announced it

user6 we love a swiftie

user3 i hate how charles never took her to the eras tour……

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liked by yourbsf, logansargeant, and 162,626 others

yourusername sometimes you just need to have a night out with your girls ❤️🖤

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yourbsf I LOVE YOU

yourusername love u too

user2 gorgeous girls

yourfriend 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

yourfriend prettiest

yourusername literally you

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MESSAGES

logansargeant

hey! i was wondering if i could perhaps take you out on a date when i land in florida?

yourusername

when do you land?

logansargeant

tomorrow morning! i can pick you up from your house?

yourusername

i would love to!

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liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 346,618 others

yourusername cute dress & good food ❤️🖤🤍

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user5 ugh she looks AMAZING

user88 she’s glowing!!!!!

user1 it’s the post breakup glow!

yourbsf ANSWER THE GROUPCHAT

yourfriend WE NEED DETAILS!!!’

yourusername OMG YOU TEXTED ME LIKE 100 TIMES

yourbsf AND????? we need details 🤞🤞

yourfriend WE ARE DRIVING TO YOUR HOUSE RN

user51 this is so real

user7 gotta debrief

user6 she looks so good in red!

user00 i wonder why logan is always liking her posts

user23 is he the boy?????

user63 that would be crazy

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liked by logansargeant, yourfriend, and 143,728 others

yourusername post swim 🌊🌊🪸🪸

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user1 gorgeous girl

user77 she’s so hot i can’t

logansargeant 🌴🌴

yourusername ???

user2 how does one look so good after swimming????

user666 FOR REAL!!!!! she looks like she came out of a modeling shoot while i look like a seal

user9 😍😍😍

yourbsf PRETTIEST GIRL

yourusername I LOVE UU

yourbsf ⏳⏳⏳

user4 if i was charles i would be at her door with flowers and a boom box

user8 he lost a BADDIE

user4 but logan gained one 💪💪

yourfriend literal model 🙏🙏🙏🙏

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user342 showing this to my plastic surgeon

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liked by yourusername, yourbsf, and 785,611 others

logansargeant i’m making this post while your sleeping on my lap (post swim) i can’t help but feel so much love for you. you are the embodiment of sunshine. you light up the room. these past few months with you have been the highlight of my life. having someone like you beside me has truly lit up my world. who knew that someone’s lost and mistake would change my life forever. i hope that in 10 years you will still be by my side, on our porch, in our house in florida. i love you y/n, thank you for taking a chance on me 🫶🫶

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user4 THIS IS SO ROM COM CODED

user33 charles could never

yourbsf logan i was skeptical at first, knowing how broken y/n was but you have seriously made y/n so so happy. this is the happiest a boy has ever made her. those couple of months with you has truly changed her. i could care less about the backlash my comment might cause but thank you for treating my best friend the way charles couldn’t.

logansargeant your approval genuinely means so much

user3 the greenest flag

yourusername i’m crying right now, i love you logan i truly do. thank you for showing me what a boyfriend should be like. i can’t wait to have a future with you. (i need to make a post to one up you)

logansargeant i love you too, don’t worry you can post anything and i’ll give you it all ❤️i’ll let you beat me in anything

yourusername AWWW YOU REALLY LOVE ME

logansargeant i really do

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liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 326,171 others

yourusername thank you for teaching me what love truly feels like

comments are limited on this post

logansargeant i love you so so much

yourusername i love you too

yourfriend 🤍🤍🤍

yourbsf “he’s a good man savannah”

yourusername LMAO

yourusername on a real note he really is a good man

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TEAM RADIO / SWEETERLOVERS - i had this idea in my notes app for a while and i actually did it!!!

[slutforfinnickodair]

HI BBG😻😻 I was wondering if you could write something for Sam Monroe like maybe he has a prince albert piercing?! I’m going feral rn. Okay love yaa

At the piercer

Pairing: Older!F!Reader x Sam Monroe

plot: Sam is in a little need of some money and after one of his friends bets him a lot of it in change for that piercing, he goes to visit one of his friends.

warnings: oral (male receiving), piercings, talk of smoking and use of drugs, age gap — sam is like 21 reader is more like 29, cheating

a/n: holy cow. WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS PLEASE MESSAGE ME😭🙏 By the way guys my inbox is open so please give me some requests😻

word count: 1.4k

—

“Yo, dude.” Josh nudged Sam by his shoulders. Sam gave him a look from the side before taking off his headphones that were blasting Metallica a moment ago.

“What do you want?” His hoarse voice made Josh want to laugh but he stood his ground.

“Want to bet five hundred bucks?” Josh said while leaning against the fence of their house.

Sam sighed before thinking of it. Five hundred bucks would be good for at least three pounds of weed. Maybe he could get some cigarettes along with it or even pills.

“What’s the deal?” Sam stood up from the grass, making Josh smirk before he turned his head to look at Thomas.

“He won’t do it man let it go.” Tommy shook his head while Josh kicked his leg making Thomas buckle his knees.

“You got a thing for that Y/N don’t you?” Josh asked while Sam narrowed his eyes at the blonde. Who was he to question if he liked her or not? She was already married for two years now so he had no chance over a man who looked like he was coming out from a Vogue magazine’s frontpage. Plus, he was way younger.

“Just say what you want, Jonathan.” Sam crossed his arms on his chest.

“How about you go to her salon and ask for a piercing?” Josh chuckled while looking down at his own groin.

The raven haired boy instantly shook his head.

“Come on Sam, it's gonna be fun. Don’t be such a pimp. Isn’t this what you want after all? Some weed and pills. You know five hundred dollars isn’t a small amount of money” Josh teased.

“I’m not doing it anyways.” Sam said. “Either if I get the money or not.”

“Are you shy? That she will see how small your dick actually is?” Thomas laughed while Josh kicked him again.

Sam tilted his head backwards. A piercing? Down there? Sure for five hundred it wasn’t really a big deal but he wasn’t even sure Y/N could do something like that.

“Fine, I'll do it.” Sam suddenly said while Josh smirked and patted Thomas on his back while turning around and walking back into their house.

—

Sam walked into your shop, hearing the bell echo through the building as he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself.

“Oh, Hi Sam.” You said as you spotted him across the reception. He was wearing flared jeans with one of those metal rock bands on it that you casually knew the name of but didn’t listen to any of their songs.

“Hi.” He said while walking over to you.

“What brings you in today?” You asked while pulling out your notepad to add a new customer for today. You only had five today and it was already two in the afternoon so it was quite a slow day.

Now this was the part where Sam lost all of his confidence just looking at you all over again.

You had your hair pinned up so it didn’t fall into your sight. You were wearing a blouse with nothing underneath so he saw your nipple piercings poking through the fabric.

He felt his mouth watering up at the sight as you leant against the counter, writing his name in in your diary.

“Well..umm.” He started but then stopped again as you looked up at him. “I..”

You tilted your head smiling slightly as you saw a little red creeping up to his face.

“I’m guessing you want it somewhere private.” You said while he let out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

“Nipple piercings?” You guessed while looking up at him.

“No.”

You tried to think of anything that could weird out a twenty one year old boy, then the question suddenly left your mouth.

“A cockring?” You asked while Sam breathed out and nodded his head slowly.

“Okay.” You got up from behind the counter and walked towards the mattress where you did all of your job.

“Lay down.” You said while sitting down on the barstool next to him.

Sam laid down as you said and stared at the ceiling while you got some of the stuff that was needed. You put on some gloves, searching for a needle and the disinfectant with a cotton swab nearby.

“Are you nervous?” You asked to make a brief conversation.

“A little.” He admitted while readjusting his position.

“Don’t worry it will be fine.” You said while turning around. “Though you would need to pull your jeans and underwear down.” You said while waiting for him to do so.

“Oh right.” He murmured while quickly fidgeting with his belt.

Your thoughts suddenly drifted away. You’ve been doing piercings for Sam since he turned seventeen. Of course you thought he looked fine but he was way too young for you. You were already twenty five when you met.

Your husband wouldn’t give a shit if you just went and slept around, because he did the same. Not that you did care, you needed the money and that was it.

Sam was different, you only thought of him as a one night stand and even that was a huge mistake to think of. He probably had many women drooling around him; he didn't need one who was married.

“Okay so.” You started while looking at his pretty face. “You know I would like you to get a little bit aroused before we start this so the needle can easily pierce your skin.” You dared not to look down at his member. Sam paid attention to this as he stared right into your gorgeous eyes, waiting for you to finally touch him even if it meant his head would be swelling for a good two weeks.

“I’ll leave you alone to do this.” You said while getting up from the barstool that you were seated on. Sam wanted to call out for you but he rather closed his mouth and watched as you walked behind the counter again, looking up at the clock before diving your head into one of your notebooks where you rearranged some appointments that were off for today. You were basically just scribbling down whatever came to your mind.

By the time you walked back to where Sam was, you saw exactly how he was currently rubbing himself, trying to get ready. All you saw was that the poor boy tried to do his best but he was still limp. You pulled at your lips as a wicked thought ran up into your head.

Jacking him off wouldn’t be cheating would it be?

You didn’t care though, you walked over to him and sat back on the barstool. When he noticed you he quickly pulled away his hands, staring at you.

“Seems like you don’t have anyone to think about.” You said while he gulped down his spit. Gosh how could you be so hot and confident at the same time?

“Trust me, I do.” He murmured while looking down at your cleavage.

“Okay pretty boy well how about I help you out a little bit?” You suggested while pulling out something like lube from one of your drawers.

“You would?” He asked surprised.

Oh god, she’s going to stroke my dick.

“Well if I need to..” You pressed some of that lube on your fingertips looking down at him.

Sam kept looking at you, praying not to cum in a minute under your hands. You probably had no time for him anyways.

You looked him into the eyes once before taking his tip between your fingertips, rubbing the lube right on the skin.

This was the first time Sam held his moans back, trying to gain composure as you kept flicking the head with your hands. If you kept going like this you would be having to see him cumming all over your hand.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as you went faster. You even forgot this wasn’t supposed to be a blowjob until the very moment you got thick ropes of white coming down your hands.

A soft gasp left your lips but even then you kept going. Sam twitched underneath your hand, groaning once you sped up again.

“You gonna cum again for me baby?” You purred while now your hand was caressing his entire length.

“Yes..” He gasped while you kept smirking.

Let’s just say Sam Monroe turned out to visit your salon more after that encounter. Plus, he always made sure your husband would see the leftover marks that your setting powder couldn’t cover.

[dadsbongos]

CAN U PLSSSS WRITE A CUTE DENJI FIC OR HEADCANON/DRABBLE?? honestly idrc care which it is (obvi longer is preferred but i understand and am open to whatevs u give)

like about reader (fem) has a journal and in it she wrote about her dream dude, but like perfectly described denji and accidentally left it out and while they were hanging out or something cuz they besties he sees it and realized like "dude, that's me!" or something and then like a fluffy confession or something IDK that's just what i have sprinting through my brain rn 🤓

also maybe a lil kiss 🙏

thank you for giving me a denji idea... been fiending to write for him and just had 0 ideas

word count - 1.5 K / warnings - fem reader, not proofread!!, au where makima dies and denji just gets to be happy with special division 4 and they are familycore

~~~

“And the point of this is…?”

“I dunno,” Himeno answers honestly, shrugging, “I read somewhere that you can tell a lot about someone from their partner.”

“None of us are dating,” Aki huffs, fingers itching over the protrusion of his lighter in his pocket.

“Their preference in a partner,” Himeno groans in annoyance, gesturing out to the collection of papers in front of each of you, “Besides, what else do we have to do right now?”

Fair question, no matter how junky the science behind Himeno's apparent reading, not one of you had anything better to do. A storm was raging outside the Hayakawa apartment, all of Special Division Four having pooled there before the clouds even rolled in. Before Kobeni could shyly crawl out from the rambunctious crowd, there was lightning and thunder and an ear-piercing flood warning blasting on the television. 

So, Aki swallows the rest of his complaints and puts his head down with the rest of your division. His pencil sprawling over the paper Himeno slammed in front of him to describe his ideal significant other. A tedious task he's all too eager to bullshit through as soon as Himeno is finished staring down at him.

Denji is tapping the eraser of his pencil against the kitchen island, eyes straying around the living room. He worried his bottom lip between knifepoint teeth; only stopping when he tastes iron. Even Power has started writing.

Even you have begun writing. He wonders what you're writing. He wishes he could stretch his neck and take a peek without being obvious. He wishes he could read it at all.

Denji draws a stick figure that takes up a quarter of the page, dragging the lead back over the chest to add breasts. He glances at you through the side of his eye before adding hair and a small smile. And the black hair tie snug around your wrist even though he's only ever seen you lend it to Kobeni and Angel. Now he really can't avoid it: Denji has no idea how to write. 

Hopefully he can just coast with a bland drawing and let everybody think he's as shallow as they probably already believe. But when he lifts his head to glimpse at everyone else's pages, Himeno is already freezing him solid with her icy glare. Denji tucks his chin to his chest and subtly twists in the island stool to look at your paper again. 

Bullet points go five lines down the page; and the only thing he can make out is one of the few characters Aki’s taught Denji at his request:

愚か. Stupid.

Denji's eyes bounce back up to your face, eyes a little gooey and smile all soft. He knows that goofy look well, it's how he finds himself everytime he thinks about you. Before he can lose himself in that, he's jealous. You're making that lovestruck face over some stupid guy that Denji can't even write a strongly worded letter to. 

Denji writes one of the other few things Aki has taught him. Your name with a bold arrow pointing down at the stick figure. 

Then he erases it. He scrubs the pink bud over your name so hard he tears the paper in half. A loud shirrr dragging every eye to his hunched form, shoulders hiking higher over his face at the increased attention.

“Hark! The fool cannot even spell!” Power cackles, “Show me his words! Show me his mistake!”

“Power,” you chide, as though she's a fitful toddler and not a horrific Fiend, “Be nice. You can't write either.”

“Liar!” she points at you with a shaking finger.

Kobeni shyly taps Power on the shoulder before pointing at the paper overflowing with Power's manic ideals of a partner, “Anything else…?”

“Honesty!” she glares at you sharply, “And unwavering devotion!”

“Right…” Kobeni mutters unsurely, neglecting her own paper as she continues to scribble on Power's.

“Ignore her,” you scoot your stool closer to Denji and he manages to flip his page over before you can see the drawing, “Do you need help?”

He’s nodding before his mouth can even pop open, eventually he manages to sputter alongside it, “Yeah, yeah!” taking full advantage of his new opportunity to squish right against you at the island, “Can you write…”

Patiently, you await his request and he can feel his heart pumping in his throat every time you bat your lashes at him all sweetly. Your pen leaves jet black dots as it dips in your weak grasp, Denji has lots of words to describe you and all of them knot together on the tip of his tongue, tangled and lashing to fall from his lips at once.

Ultimately, he settles for the least descriptive, “Nice.”

“Someone nice,” you nod and scratch that onto his paper, “I like that.”

Denji feels his whole body go junky with sparks of electricity, blood boiling hot at how you feel comfortable enough to drag your paper into his full view. You point at your top bullet point, nail tacking loudly into the surface when his eyes don’t immediately stray from your face to the words below. Your bottom lip is sucked between your teeth as you study his reaction, leaning your face even closer to his.

Though you’re blurry and jumbled in his peripherals, Denji can still make out the upturn of your lips. He looks over the rest of the page, desperately searching for any other words he can make out and mold himself to. That, or cope and make up some ways in which he’s at least comparable to your dream man.

He can make out: Pretty.

Do you think Denji is pretty?

He sees another one he recognizes: 歯 -- teeth -- but there’s two characters before that he’s useless against. 

Denji has teeth.

“Sharp,” you whisper into his ear, tingles raising along his pale flesh.

“Huh…?” Denji turns to look at you, heat rising far up to his ears.

An airy, almost delirious, giggle floats into his ears as you circle the two mysteries before teeth, “Sharp,” then you circle teeth, “Teeth. Sharp teeth.”

“You like guys with sharp teeth?”

“Love ‘em.”

Denji swallows harshly, shakily pointing to the next bullet point, “What’s that mean?”

農民を尊重する.

You press ever closer towards Denji, leaning your chin on his shoulder, “‘Respects farmers.’”

“I respect farmers…” he mutters dumbly, “I love their work.”

“I know you do.”

Denji blinks down at you, his thick lashes beating on his rosying cheeks and spiky teeth punching back into his lip. His breaths are short and hard, red overtaking his cheeks like a flustered little Kewpie doll. So precious and sweet, ready to crack beneath your palms. He’d trust you wholly, and you know you’d treat him well. He knows, too. You’re nice.

You laugh at his stunned face, posture rigid. The sudden shock making his shoulder jab up into your jaw uncomfortably -- you find it terribly charming. 

“I like girls…” Denji sighs out in a tremble, eyes trailing down your face, “I like girls with soft lips.”

“Do you?” you inch closer, by now long forgetting the presence of your friends and colleagues in the apartment. Teasing is fun, but teasing Denji is just the best.

“Mhm.”

.

.

.

After an awkward pause, Denji follows the quiet hum with,

“Can I… kiss you?”

You nod against his shoulder, chin digging down into the bone. Denji stretches his neck to kiss you -- and your lips are even softer and more sugary than he imagined. His hands scratch out to cradle you to himself, continuously parched no matter how much of you he has to drink in. Warm hands and arms around you, clinging and wrapping and pulling. Wincing from the prickle of Denji’s teeth against your lip, you cinch a hand around the chest of his shirt and wrench it towards you -- pulling Denji closer along with it. 

“You like me?” he utters against your lips.

Pulling back, you flip around your paper and sear your index nail around a very recognizable word, “My ideal partner. I was a little scared to share at first…”

Denji almost jumps right off the stool, ready to coop you in his arms and swing you around fully in front of his roommates and coworkers. Instead he laughs in full disbelief to himself, reaching down to squeeze your other hand in both of his. You’re briefly concerned he’s cutting off blood flow before the joy of his pure excitement overtakes that concern. 

DENJI is big and plain over the very top of the page. 

“What changed your mind?”

You snicker right into his ear and reach out to flip over Denji’s paper, torn at the top, “I could tell you felt the same, pretty boy.”

Denji squeezes your hand even tighter, giggling almost feverishly before he’s sliding off the stool, “Wanna go make out in my room?”

“Thanks for having the decency to move now,” an unpleasant sneer breaks Denji’s cloudy dream-turned-reality.

“Fuck you,” Denji hisses at Aki.

“I think it’s cute!” Himeno pushes at the back of Aki’s head, “Focus on yourself!”

You let Denji drag you from the kitchen island and towards his (and Power’s, not that she’ll be allowed in for the next however many hours) room. 

“So, you really think ‘m pretty?” Denji’s voice teeters just on the edge of snarky, but his skittish, red frame speaks louder.

“Prettiest,” you coo, kissing his cheek.

The affection has him seconds away from blurting out an awkward, ill-timed: You’re really my dream girl.

[minnie-binjin]

♥︎DREAM OF YOU♥︎

MINORS DNI 18+!!

genre:smut, mh caught having a wet dream about you.🙏

CW: Switch!mh, Switch!afab reader, unprotected sex (cut the cameras) p in v, creampie, dry humping, and edging (I'm sure that's all, but let me know if there's more)

p.s:FIRST TIME WRITING DONT EXPECT GREATNESS!!

You've been having a REALLY hard day at work. Stressful couldn't even cut it, so of course, all you wanted to do was get home to your bed and have a little fun here and there and hopefully minho wasn't going to interfere with that as he's always needing something around the house or at least most of the time that's what he needs.

Finally, getting to your home and opening the door to your shared apartment with your roommate on the couch sleeping, closing the door normal as caring for his nap, wasn't an issue as he usually asked you to wake him when you get home so no need for any silence. As you walk over to wake him, that's when you heard it.

"Y/n...fuck you're so tight, I-I'm gonna cum fuck." An incoherent but very visible sentence came from his lips. What was he dreaming about? Why were you in it? In the main part of your mind, you were extremely confused and conflicted and the other...so fucking turned on. It felt so wrong and weird, but the way he said your name was whiny and needy, he sounds so desperate that it's driving you crazy.

You just wanted to sit there and listen to the rest, feeling the wetness of your aching cunt mixed with the groans of Minho's mindless moans were too much, you wanted to feel him, you needed to feel him. You slowly crouched down near his face, now being more able to the sounds come from his mouth more better and god they were so fucking good, patting on his chest to wake him looking at his sleepy face as his eyes softly open.

Looking at you as you smile slyly at him as you watch his eye go blank then to a shy panic. "Y-Y/n um hey, how are you?" Minho rubs the back his head, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. "I'm wonderful, Min. How did you sleep, hm?" You say sweetly, his nickname basically rolling off your tongue like candy. "And that dream. Was it good, baby?" Slowly climbing onto the couch straddling Minho with no other thought, giving him no time to process, rubbing your soft, warm cunt on his hard, and extremely noticeable dick. Watching as Min's face changes from a nervous to weak pleasure look made you even more wet and needy for him.

"Shit...Y/n fuck I-you're so warm, feels so good mama please don't stop." Min grabs at your hips, clawing at the silky fabric wrapping and shaping your curves. "I'm gonna cum mama please..don't stop." Looking up at you with so much despair you could just eat him rn, even then you began lifting your body from his hard dick with no effort, causing him to whine pathetically as your warmness leaves his crotch. "Cmon baby, not yet ok? I still want you to fill me up." Taking off the pants you had on fairly quickly, going right back to straddling Minho looking at him with seductive eyes, pulling down his shorts and bowers as his throbbing dick lays on his chest hard as a rock.

Moving your underwear to the side with one hand, stroking Minho with other, lining yourself up with his dick as you slowly sink onto his hot throbbing length.

"Holy shit you're so big, Min baby." Bitting down on your lips as you move yourself up and down slowly on him as your ass and his hips meet constantly until all you both hear is the sound of skin slapping together the faster you moving on his dick. "Min fuck I-I'm so close, I can't hold it please!"

You feel your climax slowly reaching as your eyes meet the back of your head, clawing into Minho's shoulder as you press your chin to his neck, both of you moan in an almost pornographic way. "C'mon Mama, cum for me. I'm close too ok? Just cum." His filthy reassuring tone threw you over the edge, cuming more than a toy has ever made you. You constantly clench as min fucks you through your high, causing Minho to cum not to long after you filling you with his warm white liquid as he finally stops pulling out of you to let it all come out of your swollen and abused cunt.

"I'm sorry, you just felt so good." Minho chuckles, pushing his face into your chest, huffing softly. "It's okay, Min. I won't die from it." You ruffle his hair, trying to catch your own breath from that intense situation, definitely forgetting about all the stress from before.

The end.

Hope you liked it! :))

[starb3rrys]

Hiii I'm kinda new to Tumblr so idk how stuff really works here😭 but anyway are your requests open? If so, then I'd like to make a req but if not just ignore this!!

Umm so basically an nsfw oneshot(idk what you call it) or headcanons of how bsd men would react/deal the situation when you two are hiding in a very tight space and your crotches accidentally rub together? RHRHHT it's kinda weird describing it but let's just say [character] pushed you along with him into a locker/box with you sitting on top of his lap OR with you too close ttp that you two could feel each other with every inch you move

Uhhh and yeah that's it and feel free to add some touches and changes on the scenario, and I'd greatly appreciate it if maybe you add Nikolai in it😁🙏AND AGAIN IF U DON'T FEEL LIKE DOING MY REQ OR ISN'T ACCEPTING REQS RN THEN FEEL FREE TO IGNORE I HONESTLY DON'T MIND!!/lh /srs

OMG YES?! Ugh, I love this request! I wanted to add some more characters as well, So I picked the DOA (sorry) ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／

If y’all want a part 2 with different characters just let me know, Im at your service! <3

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

A Tight Fit~

Ft. Nikolai, Sigma, Fyodor

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Nikolai

Scenario: You were out on a mission with Nikolai, it should’ve been an easy “break in and grab important documents” type mission. But now, you two were squeezed together in a small closet, fearing that any small movement would get you two caught.

“Stay quiet...” Nikolai said as he listened closely, his face looked concentrated and serious, a change from his usual happy and calm face

You quietly nod, as you press against the wall behind you to try and get some more space in between you two

The closet is pretty small, hence why nikolai is leaning down, his hands are pressed firmly on each side of your head, inevitably pinning you in place

Nikolai thinks of a way for both of you to escape this situation without being spotted, “maybe I can teleport something”, he thought to himself

He reaches for his cape, unintentionally pressing against you

Your eyes widen as you feel something press against your area, you slowly look up to see if Nikolai noticed

His cheeks are flushed, hes frozen in place and there is an obvious smirk forming on his face

Yeah he definitely noticed.

You start to speak “Niko-… you’re so clo-“, he cuts you off as he places his hand over your lips

“Shh...” He says as he places a finger against his own lips with a small smirk

Moments later you hear the door of the office close, you two are now alone

“They’re gone now...” Nikolai says in a quiet gentle tone, he turns to you “But, i mean…we could just stay in here~” he says with a mischievous grin

Even after you two get out of that closet, he would keep on teasing and reminding you of the “incident”, he will make sure you never forget!~

Sigma

Scenario: You really don’t know how you got in this situation, one second you and Sigma were walking the streets of the city at night, after your wonderful date. The next, you were hiding in a small dark alley, your body pressed tightly against sigmas as you both hid from a certain jester.

“Damn it.” Sigma cursed under his breath as he kept his guard up, looking around frantically with a worried yet annoyed look

You looked up at Sigma, “Why are we hiding?” You whispered

Sigma looked down at you as he let out a sigh “I saw Nikolai roaming the streets, We can’t be seen together by anyone in the decay, if they were to find out about us...I’m sure horrible consequences would follow” he explained

You nod in agreement, “I understand..but um, why did we have to hide in such a...tight space.” You say as you look away, you can feel his body pressed tightly against yours, you can feel his every breath, his every shuffle and every slight movement

Sigma realizes this and blushes as his eyes widen, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice our position in the heat of the moment”

As he says this, you hear a slight noise come from the alley which causes you to slightly jump in a fright

Sigma let’s out a small grunt as he feels your crotch roughly brush against his, he grips your shoulders and holds you in place “Love please…try and stay still…at least for now” he pleads as his face flushes

Your eyes widen as you feel something slightly poke you “Sigm-“ you’re cut off as his hand covers your mouth, “Keep quiet..” he whispers as you hear footsteps around the corner

You feel him press more onto you, trying to hide your body from view as he lays his head against you shoulder, next to your ear

You slightly shuffle which causes sigma to groan in response, he quickly grips your hips with slight force

“Keep still..” he says in a low tone

Once you two finally get out of the alley way…let’s just say- his head was full of scenarios that caused him to blush profusely, as he practically dragged you to your apartment…

Fyodor

Scenario: Work has been so busy lately, new mission reports coming in everyday. Piles of finished and unfinished documents decorate your desk. All of this caused you to become stressed and overwhelmed, which caused you to become clumsy. So clumsy that you didn’t even seem to notice Fyodor turning the corner, not until it was too late.

**THUD**, is all that can be heard as your bodies crash together and fall to the floor

You feel extreme pain on your head as you let out a small groan of pain

You soothe your head and begin to slowly open your eyes, you try and comprehend what just happened as you hear a soft pained groan come from under you

You slowly begin to look down, your face flushes when you and Fyodor’s eyes meet

His eyes show slight shock as they quickly return to their neutral state, he just stares up at you…not uttering a word

You take a minute to process what is currently happening…and thats when you feel it, you feel something pressing against your area

You quickly get off Fyodor as you begin to apologize, “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been paying more attention!”, you ramble on apologies as you quickly stand up

He lets out a small chuckle as he stands up and brushes himself off , “No worries, more importantly…are you alright?” He asks with a bit of concern present in his tone

You nod as your face grows red, you begin to remember what you felt under you as you pray to god he didn’t notice

But, its like he can read you like a book, he smirks as he reaches for your chin, making you look at him “Yes,…I did notice and feel it” he says with a sly tone

You freeze in place as he says this, he then pulls away and softly smiles “Just be more careful and aware in the future, alright?”

He narrows his eyes as his tone changes to a more stern one, “Next time I won’t be so forgiving…~” he says as he begins to walk off

You’re left standing there shocked and frozen in place

He definitely enjoyed it, especially your cute reaction when you thought he didn’t notice. But for your sake he won’t bring it up, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t think about it constantly…~

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Hi Hi! Sorry for the delay, work has been getting in the way but no worries im clearing out my requests!

I changed the scenario up a bit for Fyodor! (Sorry)

I appreciate everyone sending in requests! Love yall! <3

[tkaulitzz]

HI OK SO

I LUUUUV UR BILL ACOUNT SO MUCH theyre so well written 🙏🙏 but i was wondering if you could do a dom!tom fem!reader smut where hes like the readers german tutor n the readers like all flirty with him when she first meets him ykwim

YOU DONT HAVE TO DUH and sorry if its not specific enough but yopsdhkjsdlsjd yeah😭😭

ILY AND UR WRITING MWAH x

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭

more like this on wattpad @/b_kaulitzz ;) (ok not rn bc this my lit first tom wattpad)

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

info/cw: fem x dom!tom, bj (m! recieving), praising, degrading

synposis: you’d do anything to get out of doing german homework

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD. also to requester, i changed plot up a bit, I HOPE YOU DONT MIND…i was having horrible writers block

more under cut :)

I watched as the door cracked over, my eyes meeting his brown eyes. "Hey, Tom, " I gave a small smile as he exchanged one back. He raised an eyebrow as his eyes moved lower through my body, undressing me in his mind. I bit my lip as I tugged at my skirt, keeping my eyes on his. "Tom?"

"Oh...sorry. Come in, " He looked back into my eyes, a slight pink tint washing over his face. I snickered as he took a step aside, opening the door more. "I'm helping with German, right?"

"Mhm, " I stepped in, watching as he closed the door behind me. His eyes scanned over me one more time before shuffling past me.

"Over here, " He spoke. I watched as his jeans dragged against the shiny floor. The wood floors reflected a slight yellow hue from the ceiling light. I followed behind him, my platform heels clacking against the ground. I sighed, holding onto the strap of my tote bag as I watched him pull out two chairs from his dining table. I took a seat next to him, placing my bag on the glass table.

"Tom?" I looked over at him as I reached into my bag, pulling out the German textbook. He hummed in response, taking a seat next to me. "You know, you're a sweet boy, right?"

"I am?" He raised an eyebrow. I nodded, pulling out the worksheets that were stacking up as days went by. I needed this credit, badly. But, I'm not gonna be the one to do it. I shuffled in the cushioned seat, sitting up.

"Yes, you are, " I turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. I could see his dilated pupils from here, he was so easy. I bit my lip as I felt the painted design of his jacket sleeve under my palm. "You know how I'm struggling for this credit right?"

"Yea?..."

"And, you know. That one time in math when I helped you, " I tilted my head, rubbing his forearm. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"You did?"

"Well...besides that..." I pressed my lips together as I looked away for a bit. Damn it, maybe he's smarter than I thought. "Could you do my work, please?"

"What?? I can help you but I'm not doing your work, " His face twisted, pulling the textbook over to his side.

"Tom, please?..." I pleaded, watching him turn to the book.

"It's not that hard, come on, " He took one of the worksheets and looked over it.

"Fine...I guess you didn't want a reward, " I sighed as I took out a pen. He kept his fingers on the worksheet before looking at me again.

"Reward?..."

"Yea...I guess it doesn't matter, " I shrugged, clicking the blue pen. I grinned to myself, watching his face twist again.

"No, tell me, " Tom placed the paper down, crossing his arms. He sat back, his legs spreading as he narrowed his eyes. I felt a lump form in my throat, looking from the chandelier above the table and to him.

"It doesn't matter, " I pulled the worksheet over to my side. Shit, I should've just let him tutor me. I shuddered, feeling his lips gently brush over my ear lobe. I could feel his grin, watching his hand enter my vision to take hold of my hand that held the pen.

"Tell me, " He spoke softly into my ear, taking the pen from my hands. My palms grew sweaty as my heart raced. He sat back again, crossing his arms with the pen in his grasp.

"It's nothing, Tom. Let's just do this lesson, " I turned back to him, reaching out for the pen. He raised his hand, holding the pen up high. I stood up, regretting packing only one pen. He leaned back slightly, this fucking idiot. I grit my teeth, placing a hand on his chest as I try to reach for the pen.

"Oh, so now you wanna do the lesson?" He snickered, continuing to hold the pen out of my reach.

"Tom, give it back, " I scoffed, leaning closer to him.

"Only if you tell me."

"Tell you what?" I groaned, taking hold of his wrist. He snickered and I widened my eyes as I felt his breath on my chest. I felt my face heat up as I fell back onto my chair. He held a proud smirk on his stupid face, spinning the pen in his hand. "Perv!"

"And you're not?"

"What are you talking about?" I looked away, folding my arms over my chest.

"What was the reward?" He leaned over, pushing the tip of the pen under the strap of my top. His eyes followed my pen as he moved it down my skin. I shuddered as I snapped my head toward him.

"Do the worksheets first, then I'll show you, " I glared at him, licking my top lip. He played with his lip ring, looking away to think. My body grew less tense as he leaned back, taking a worksheet. I sighed, watching as he filled out each question. I slowly slid off my chair, this better be worth it. I crawled between his legs, looking up at the confused expression that formed on his face through the glass. I sat up on my knees, sliding my fingers to his bulge. My fingertips went against the threading of the folds of his jeans. He smirked to himself as he felt me undo his jeans, sliding down the zipper. I looked up at him from time to time, digging my nails into the denim to pull them down.

"You're not serious are you?" He reached down, taking hold of my lower jaw. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the feeling of his rough callous thumb pressed into my cheek. He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you're serious, " He watched as I slid my fingers under the start of his boxers. He shuddered at the cold feeling of my nails hitting his skin as I tugged at his boxers. He didn't seem to mind as he pulled away, working on the worksheet again. I pulled down his boxers, watching his cock swing out. I didn't mind either, he's the only tutor I'd do this to. I bit my lip as I wrapped my hand around his length, hearing his stuttered breaths. I slowly stroked him, feeling him harden in my hand before looking up at him. He kept his breath steady with small hicks and I leaned in, kissing his tip. I moved my free hand down between his thighs, pushing them apart as I continued to stroke him. Tom let out a small groan, tightening his grip around the pen. I spat on his tip, spreading my saliva down the base as I watched a vein protrude out of his arm. I smirked to myself, continuing to stroke him to lubricate his cock. The lewd noises between my hand and his cock only caused my heart to race more.

"Is that okay?" I asked innocently, fluttering my eyes as I leaned close. I kissed his tip again, letting saliva slide down it.

"Keep going, " He kept his eyes on the paper. I licked his slit before wrapping my lips around his tip. He grunted, feeling me hallow my cheeks. I stroked the rest of his size as I slowly moved my head down his length. I held his inner thigh, closing my eyes as I continued to move my head down. I gagged as his tip hit the back of my throat, furrowing my eyebrows. He breathily moaned, as I slowly bobbed my head. "Just like that...for the A, " He hissed, moving a hand behind my head as he answered questions with his other hand. I hummed into his cock, causing him to let out a satisfied groan. I opened my eyes, my vision blurry from the tears forming. Tom's jaw hung low as his eyebrows curved inward. "Fuck...you want an A, right? Use that mouth, right, " He strained out, placing the pen down. I gagged as he held either side of my head, moving my mouth down. My nose hit his lower stomach as I looked up at him, hallowing my cheeks still. He pulled me off, allowing me to breathe as his chest heaved up and down. His forehead formed sweat, and the angle of him from down here caused me to clench my thighs together. I panted before licking his tip again. "Yea, you want that A, don't you?"

"Mhm, " I let out a small whine as I swirled my tongue around his tip. He chuckled, taking hold of his cock to press his tip against my tongue.

"You're so pathetic, " He slowly slid his size into my mouth. My panties only became more soaked from his power over me. I hallowed my cheeks, keeping eye contact as my eyes watered again. His tip hit against my throat, causing him to let out a satisfied sigh. "Use that pretty mouth if you want your worksheets done, " He bit his lip, using my head to his pleasure. His breath caught in his throat as he continued. I whined into his cock as I moved against his steady rhythm, my eye makeup slightly ruined from the tears. "Just like that, good girl, " His chest continued to heave, pulling away once I learned the rhythm. Tom let out a guttural moan, keeping his focus on the worksheet. I looked up at him for approval as I worked my mouth on his cock, bobbing my head quicker. He moved a hand back down, caressing my forehead with his thumb as he worked. He groaned, lowering his head as he tried to write. "Fuck-- just like that, pretty girl, " He hungrily moaned. I breathed heavily through my nose, slowing down as I grasped his cock again. His tip poked into my cheek as I slowed down, barely enough for him to feel. I tasted the gloss from my lips that smeared around his cock. He looked down at me again, his harsh look sending chills down my spine. I felt my stomach turn, feeling his grip on my wrists as he began to thrust into my mouth. “I don’t think you wanna pass.”

“I do, I do, ” I muffled as I leaned back, sucking on his tip. He pulled me closer by my wrists, causing me to wince. His face was flushed, and my lips were swollen. My jaw stung as I hallowed my cheeks again.

“Yea? Then act like it, ” He bucked his hips once I parted my lips. Husky moans left his lips, each thrust matching his moans. He closed his eyes, thrusting deeper into my mouth to feel every inch as he groaned in satisfaction. I rubbed my thighs together, muffling moans around his cock from the friction. “Good girl, ” He struggled to let out as he threw his head back, continuing to thrust into my mouth. I clenched my fists, moving my head against his thrusts as I felt his cock throb. “Keep it up-- and all of your worksheets-- will be done, ” He dragged out his moans, quickening his thrusts. I gagged at each thrust to the back of my throat. Tom cursed under his breath, taking hold of the back of my head, and pushing me down as he released. His groan was followed by a hoarse moan. I slightly choked, swallowing the warm liquid around his cock. I pulled off with a pop, drool running down the corner of my lips as I leaned back in. He panted, looking down at me as I licked the cum around his base.

“Did I do good?” I breathed heavily, feeling him let go of my wrists. I held myself up from the cold tiled floor, licking the corner of my lips. He nodded in response with a smirk, looking back at the piece of paper.

“I barely did though, ” Tom puffed his cheeks, as he only answered three questions.

——————

© t/bkaulitzz :( ; dont steal

tom kaulitz, kaulitz, smut, kaulitz twins

[xxlady-lunaxx]

This is a request but like

SaneMitsu. But female Sanemi and male Mitsuri.

Basically genderbend

Cause I saw a super adorable fanart of it and I cannot get the idea off of my head but rn I dont have time to write (I'm killing mosquitoes rn) so Im asking the best kny writer on tumblr I know

didnt know what to write bc writing genderbends aaalways trips me up but ill try 🙏 keeping their actual names otherwise it gets infinitely more confusing <- maeda (the tailor) is still the same (gender) ! (its wwaay to confusing as is IMSORRY)

Unlike most of the women of the Corps, Sanemi had chosen the design she got for her uniform. Granted, she hadn’t expected the skirt rather than the pants she had so clearly asked for. But she dealt with it, not really in the mood to ask for her original request. Of course, that only lasted so long. After receiving a replacement for her uniform—which had torn on one of her missions—she found the skirt about four or so inches shorter than it had been before. She had noticed, prior, that it seemed to like shrinking whenever she got it back. But this was fucking ridiculous and she was ready to kill. Which was unfortunately forbidden in the Corps—but nobody said anything about threatening, right?

After getting the unnecessary advice from Tengen—whom she’d run into while collecting her clothes—she stalked back go Maeda with the slowly rising fury. She had never minded the little boob window her uniform provided—she’s asked for that, actually—but this stupid skirt would do nothing to give the protection the uniform was supposed to give. Sanemi found herself wondering if Maeda was secretly a traitor with the intention to kill off all the women by making clothing that did the opposite it was supposed to. She would honestly not be surprised if that was it.

Upon reaching the room she had been directed to as the one Maeda worked in, she kicked the door open and stepped inside. Before she had the chance to put in words the irritation he was inconveniencing her with, she stopped short, realizing someone else was also in the room. It was the newest Hashira—Mitsuri Kanroji. Who stood there, surprised at the sudden entrance.

Maeda stood beside Mitsuri, writing down what Sanemi assumed to be the requested uniform design. No doubt Mitsuri would get exactly what he asked for.

Deciding that she didn’t care if there was audience, Sanemi stalked up to Maeda and snatched the clipboard from his hands. Maeda squeaked—stupidly—and scrambled to get it back. Sanemi held it tauntingly above her head, dancing away from his reach.

“I need that,” Maeda tried. “Do you need anything? Could you wait until I finish with Kanroji-sama?”

“It’s not like you’re going to do what he asks though, right?” Sanemi taunted, her lips curled in a scowl.

Mitsuri took the clipboard from Sanemi, frowning. “Be nice,” he said, as if Sanemi were some toddler learning manners. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Not to you, no.” Sanemi shot him a glare, holding up the skirt and shoving it in Mitsuri’s face. “Look at this! What the fuck is this? At this point, it’s a goddamn belt!”

Mitsuri leaned back slightly, trying to look at what Sanemi was waving in the air. He took a moment to comprehend it, confused. “Is that… a skirt?”

“Yes. Supposedly part of my uniform,” Sanemi snapped. “Even when I asked for some fucking pants. But no. And before, at least, this was longer. Now it covers absolutely nothing!”

Mitsuri appeared to be having conflicting emotions, hesitating before speaking. He turned to Maeda as he spoke, gently taking the skirt and examining it. “Is this really… what you made for Shinazugawa-san? It’s not very proper for her,” he said slowly, his frown reappearing.

Sanemi felt slightly better seeing Mitsuri on her side. Mitsuri seemed like the type to want everything all rainbows and laughter, so seeing him lecture someone else for a change (he didn’t like Sanemi’s ‘attitude’) was satisfying. Especially as Maeda cowered slightly, finally getting the hint that he’d fucked up.

“Well- Maybe it… shrank?” Maeda said doubtfully. Fucking bastard.

“I didn’t even ask for a skirt,” Sanemi snarled. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the tailor. She had to admit, this would be funny. Especially if Mitsuri decided to scold Maeda. Which he did.

“Even if it did shrink from what you originally, made, it isn’t very kind of you to give her what she didn’t ask for! Besides, I believe that pants are more protective than skirts, and it would be nice of you to help us with our job to protect others! We all have important roles in the Corps and yours is to make the clothing, right? But if we aren’t fit into the clothes that would benefit us more, then other things could go wrong! Shinazugawa-san is a very talented Hashira, but I believe that not having the proper protection for her skin would hinder her ability to protect others if her own body is open to so many places she could easily get injured. If you issued the same clothing to any of the Hashira, they would all tell you that it isn’t ideal to receive something with the means for only appearance when they’re trusting you to make them something that would protect them,” Mitsuri ranted, hands poised on his hips as he spoke. He huffed, handing Maeda his clipboard back. “I don’t want to pressure you, but it’s truly disrespectful to give this”—he held up the skirt—“to someone who has done nothing but protect! Please give Shinazugawa-san the right clothing before proceeding with mine.”

Sanemi wasn’t quite listening to Mitsuri, having grown a bit bored of it half way through, so she focused on Maeda’s expression that was morphing into some sort of embarrassment, if not quite shame. She resisted the urge to laugh as Maeda quickly took the clipboard and nodded. Probably deciding he didn’t want to deal with two angry Hashira.

“Yes- Okay,” Maeda said quickly. He didn’t look quite sorry, but at least he might refrain from repeating his actions for a while. “I’ll do it.”

“Do you need my measurements?” Sanemi asked.

“No. I have them from last time.”

“So you did measure her for them? You just decided not to follow your directions?” Mitsuri prompted, looking even more upset.

Sanemi grinned, eager to rouse the fire. “Yeah, maybe we should have you replaced or something. Or, maybe not. We should just report this to Oyakata-sama. I’m sure you’d learn your lesson then.”

Mitsuri agreed, nodding. “I agree.”

Maeda shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’ll do what you asked. I’ll do it.”

“Good. But I’m more than willing to send a crow to Master if it’s too much work,” Sanemi suggested.

Maeda interrupted him, shaking his head with much vigor. “No need! No need—it’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Sanemi smirked as Maeda left to hopefully go remake the uniform. Then she turned to Mitsuri, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Mitsuri asked. She handed the skirt back but Sanemi just threw it aside for whoever came back into the room.

“I think we should’ve just punched him,” Sanemi said.

“No! That’s going too far.”

“Yeah, well, I’m holding him accountable for all of the injuries on my legs since I got the skirt.” She absentmindedly rubbed her thigh where a bandage was wrapped around a wound from a couple days ago. “I’m sure it could’ve been prevented if he wasn’t such a perverted asshole.”

“Let’s not- Let’s not speak badly about him, now…” Mitsuri mumbled, though he resisted a smile.

Sanemi pointed at the skirt. Mitsuri sighed.

“Just don’t hurt him. Please?”

“Fine.”

•••

Sanemi had, luckily, gotten her uniform back as she’d originally wanted it. The next time she saw Mitsuri—which wasn’t actually until the next Hashira meeting—she showed her, a bit pleased. Mitsuri equally seemed happy for Sanemi. Sanemi, who had decided that maybe Mitsuri wasn’t quite so annoying, ended up talking to him for a while longer. The other Hashira appeared vastly surprised by this, all used to Sanemi’s hostile act towards, well, everyone. And then Sanemi and Mitsuri started dating blah blah I have no ideas.

guys pls be more specific w requests i neber know what to write 😔

[sixosix]

SOBBING EUEU UEUEGEH EUGEUE UEHEUUEUEE

(got a lil shy while drawing them doing the smooch🫣)

im so getting emotional rn like THERES ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT😭😭🤧 i feel like it was just last month where i sent u the first ask HHAHAHHS rizzney is actually a myth look at him at his KNEES for mc bro is a tomato, a strawberry, hes the same color as his bow headass. also yeah aether its probably best to get your hands off mc now LMAOOOO. LYNETTEEEE i love u ueegheheg eueh ueh. also CHILDE😍🥰🥰😍🤩😍😍🥰my man lesgo, my mc childe sibling boat is sailing HAHHSHHSHX

on the side note, im hella hyped for the aether series💥💥💥 trust that I'll still be w u in that journey as much as i am in this one. your writings breathe life into me like actually. Thawed has relieved me from artblock lots of times and im greatful for that. As long as i live, thawed exists alr. like this fic is injected into my brain HAHHAHHSHHSHSN

i might draw more even after the series is over tho LMAOOOO like just my headcanons and stuff. THATS HOW MUCH I LOVE THAWED OK U DONT UNDERSTAND this the thawed impact😭😭😭😭

but yeah, have a nice day six!! i love u very much❤️❤️

AKAAGIIIII im tearing up again 😢 U DREW THE KISS SCENE WAAAAAAAHHH. omg. They look so soft im sobbing i can feel the warmth ARRGHHHH THEIR HEIGHT DIFFERENCE TOO IMGOING CRAZY the way hes holding her... Okay. okay.

im so emotional too like I CANT BELIEVE ITS THE LAST CHAPTER NEXT.... I stared at my phone after i posted that recent chapter like wt f am i gonna do now. well obviously we know what im gonna do next but thawed impact was real to me too 😢😢 thats my baby and im letting her go NOOOOO

IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!!! im glad we met through thawed and im forever grateful that youre still sticking to my blog. 🙏🙏🙏 i swear and wholeheartedly believe that thawed wouldn't have been the same without your art. TRUST ME I WROTE IT.

and ofc ill still welcome (and BEG) for thawed content from you even after i officially end it. i have attachment to your thawed!mc and i dont think its gonna go away ever. I LOVE U SO MUCHH U ARE WONDERFUL HAVE AN AMAZING EVERY DAY

[flightyalrighty]

So Shadow was unconscious for 2 days meaning he most likely woke up on day 3. Bugs have been out in the world for at least three days then. Either GUN doesn't know there's a problem yet or Rouge never got the chance to tell Shadow.

Shadow 100% falcon punched someone on day 3 after hearing the "Go crazy go apeshit" words and booked it seeing how the other person's blood is still dripping and he's got an open bleeding wound of his own. The fact that the wound is still there and the blood is still dripping from both sources means it happened not too long ago. It's still day 3.

Sonic is covered in vicera on day 3. He's talking like nothing is wrong. It hasn't even been a week yet. What the hell does the rest of the world look like rn if this is day 3 😭 I know the bug is most likely doing a Larva to Adulthood speedrun (haha speedrun ha...😭😭😭) in Sonic rn but the world can't be that far off from him.

It feels like we're getting both sides of the spectrum here. Shadow with the delayed effects because of his blood and Sonic with the advanced effects because he's the living embodiment of adrenaline and doesn't know how to ask for help. Makes it hard to grasp what the rest of the world is gonna look like when we see it.

Also I saw that talk about the yellow fur. I was wondering what that was for a while. I'm voting it's from Tails. You said Tails wouldn't leave Sonic alone even if he's 'sick'. If Sonic's this far gone already I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to get a hold of Tails at least once :( Doesn't mean the kit is dead though. He's got the added advantage of being able to fly away from trouble. He could always strand himself at the top of something if Sonic's 'sickness' got directed towards him. Holding out hope Tails isn't dead yet 🙏 Might be the only person with the most insight in what's going on rn seeing how he's got personal experience with it :(

A lot of good theorizing, here! And yeah, you're pretty spot-on with that timeline of events. Honestly I'm not sure what I could possibly say to add to this! I feel bad for not being able to reply with too much, but, y'know, I don't wanna spoil anything!

Thank you for reading, and for paying attention! :]

[jadeittic]

HS + Y/I: 2022 (SERIES)

EXTRA (8) -- mb i keep procrastinating i swear its not my fault (it is) LMAO

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HARRY STYLES + PLATONIC!EX-1D MEMBER!FEM!READER

WARNINGS: will be changing face claims for every post ! hope it won't be a bother.

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram perth, get ready.

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username THE AMOUNT OF HARRY CONTENT IS MAKING ME 😫

username o h my god i get to be the first people to hear hs + y/i as the aoty

username DELETE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HADNLE

harrystyles We praise the people who get drunk the night before anything.

yourinstagram i'm literally going to die from alcohol poisoning because of you

harrystyles Yeah well it's not my fault you keep tagging along with me

yourinstagram SHUT UUUP i only tag along because you cry like a baby if i say no

username the bickering even through texts 😭😭

username LMFAO

username yn can i bring pizza to the show please 🙏

yourinstagram YES PLEASE i deserve a snack from time to time because SOMEONE refuses to let me

username we dont even need namedropping atp we all knowwww who it is

harrystyles WHAT DID I DO?!

username YNRRY IN AUSTRALIAAA EHFSGSEGGSEF

username the amount of adrenaline in me i cant even go to sleep

ynrryupdates

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ynrry YNRRY spotted walking around tourist shops in Perth, Australia just this afternoon. Are we all ready for the show tomorrow night?

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username PARENTS /p

username im so excited im driving to the park jsut to visit

username SO EXCITEDE EEFEGRE

username actually ordering her pizza rn

username I HOPE YN REMEMBERS OMG

username we're listening to the aoty tomorroooooow

username every show feels so unreal

username IRSHEGGESOJR

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yourinstagram rehearsaaaaals

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username THERES A VIDEO OF YOU GUYS SOUNDCHECKING WOMAN ARE WE GETTING WOMAN TN

yourinstagram huh

username YN

harrystyles NO WONDER WHY YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG

username THEYRE SO GLSEIFJGG

zendaya i miss youuuu

yourinstagram z i miss you so much it hurts

username IM SO EXCITEED

username OHHSG SRIGRGH

username 2023 is treating ynrry so well and im here for it

username I HAVE THE PIZZA YN

yourinstagram it better be my favorite one

ynrry

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ynrry first look at ynrry onstage at perth!

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username WHAT THE FUCK

username i love how they're matching but not matching at all

username ITS SO GOOD TO SEE THEM AGAIN OMG I MISSED THEM SO MUCH

username i am IN TEARS

username SUE AND HIS BESTFRIEND AT PERRRTTTTHHHH

--

"Okay, so tonight's dinner will be pizza, as I was informed. "Where are you?" Not knowing what she should be looking for other than a pizza box as she makes her way down the catwalk, YN says, "Is there a pizza box I should be looking for, really? — A sudden cheer could be heard from the other side of the stage, where Harry appeared to be pointing down to someone in the audience. Harry said, "C'mere, I think I found her. I'll even check my imaginary watch on my wrist to see how long it'll take her to get here," he said, motioning for YN to come over to his side.

"I actually believed a turtle was with me on stage," Harry jokes with a smirk on his lips, "YN finally made it over, much slower than anyone, actually." By this time, the two are arguing once more and have forgotten that they were looking for the pizza a fan had promised YN she would get at tonight's show.

"Well, I wouldn't really like the opportunity to slip and fall down as I'm running to you, no? - I'm simply being safe, unlike you." YN says with a cheeky grin plastered onto her face, to which Harry replies with a playful, offended look as he dramatically starts crying and places his hands over his eyes to stop his "tears" from falling out.

YN decides to move on, away from the conversation, and approaches the fan, who is holding a pizza box in the air. "Are you the one who promised me dinner?" The fan's head nodding told her everything she needed to know, even though she couldn't really hear what she was saying due to the audience and the earpiece placed in her ears. She then reaches over to the fan, carefully grabbing the box from the fan's hands without falling. As YN holds the box, her excitement quickly builds as she remembers how hungry she was before the show.

"Better hope it's your favorite pizza. If not, the pizza will be mine before you know it!" Harry approaches YN with a sneaky grin on his face. By turning away from the audience to hide the pizza they would be eating on stage, YN and Harry created needless suspense. — The boy standing next to YN laughs as she says, "Don't let me down, please," into her microphone.

It was YN's preferred pizza, which surprised her. As she crouches next to the fan, YN exclaims, "You are now my favorite person ever, I love you so much." — "You certainly made her happy, I suppose. Sincerely, I believed she would eventually cut off my head." Harry says as he squats down next to YN and receives snarling looks in return.

"Harry, I hate you so much." She pushes him in a playful manner until he falls to his back, at which point she turns to face the fan while grinning widely. — "You have my undying love. I adore you. Because of you, dinner is served!"

"Speaking of Adore You," Harry teases into his microphone as he motions for YN to stand, the upbeat instrumental playing through the speakers.

YN was spotted eating pizza while seated close to her and Harry's band.

--

iuploadtweetsaboutynrryonig

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celebnews

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celebnews "Y'wanna do it with me?" -- "Pass. I don't want to barf out the pizza I just ate. And besides, you're not even drinking it with beer!" -- "Well, this is a family show, is it not?" YN LN and Harry Styles on doing a shoey at their concert at Perth.

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username ITS THE WAY YN'S FACE LOOKED LIKE WHEN HE PUT HIS SHOE BACK ON 💀

username he drank it out of a GUCCI SNEAKER

username SOMEONE SEDATE ME RN

username yn just munching on her food in the back while harry does all of these 😭

username "this is one of the most disgusting traditions" -- "THEN DON'T DO IT" I LOVE YN SM LMFAOO

username yn shaking her head in disappointment like a mother for him doing it and him not doing it right 😭

username I JUST WOKE UP HES DOING A SHOEY??

ynrry

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ynrry more of ynrry tonight at perth!

harrystyles

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Perth. February. 2023.

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username WE MISSED YOU BOOOTHH

username had the time of my life im so thankful

username i miss you already

yourinstagram this is the face of someone who DROPPED A SLICE OF MY PIZZA ON THE FLOOR.

harrystyles I SAID I WAS SORRY

username CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAINN

username 2023ynrry is such a sight to see

username LOVE LVOE LOVE

username SOMEONE POST A VIDEO OF THE SHOEY PLEASE

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram taught this man how to use a phone once, and he can't let go of it. PERTH I LOVE YOU

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username the thought of yn teaching harry makes me giggle a bit

username i barely see this man holding a phone this is a rare sight

username I'M GLAD YOU ENJOYED THE PIZZA !

yourinstagram i love you i love you i love you

username tonight felt like a dream omg

username IM COMING TO SEE YOU TWO AGAIN SOOOOON

username the best duo in the whole universe no one can tell me otherwise

yourinstagram via ig story

[archangeldyke-all]

Hi, first time ever sending an ask like this but I needed to tell you how much I love what you write and that I am absolutely grateful you also write for amab sevika 🥺🙏❤️ I was wondering if you maybe would write amab sevika having sex with an insecure afab nonbinary reader and Sev kissing their top surgery scars and doing a bit of body worship? 🥺 Thank you 😭🙏❤️

of course!! this is gonna be a little less smutty because i just wrote a big ol' smut piece last night so i'm all smutted out rn, so i hope that's okay!

disclaimer! i'm cis, so i'm unfamiliar with the specifics of top surgery. if i got anything wrong, please lmk and i'll fix it right away! :)

men and minors dni

first of all, if you guys are together when you get top surgery, sevika would almost be more excited than you.

it's not that she doesn't love your tits. (she does.)

but she loves you so much more, and she knows top surgery is going to make you so happy, and she's so excited for you.

your recovery is uncomfortable and painful as it always is, but it's a little more bearable when sevika's waiting on you hand and foot, grinning each time she changes your bandages and sees your still-swollen but now flat chest.

each night, she'd insist she be the one to rub your scar-fading cream over the scars on your chest.

and each time, she'd press a kiss right over your heart as she rubs it in.

when you're fully healed, sevika wouldn't be able to keep her hands to herself.

not really in a sexual context (we'll get to that in a second) but just because she wants to reassure you and touch you and soothe the scars on your chest.

she's always tracing over the scars, slipping her hand up your shirt to gently rub her thumb back and forth over them.

if you're ever feeling insecure (maybe the scars are lopsided or really obvious, maybe your nipples look a little different now, or you don't have any at all, maybe you're just feeling blah about your body) sevika's the first person to notice something's off-- sometimes even before you do.

"what's wrong?" sevika asks when she wanders into the bathroom and finds you tracing your top surgery scars. you huff.

"nothin'." you say. she shoots you a skeptical look as she approaches you, both hands on your hips and her chin hooking over your shoulder to lock eyes with you in the mirror.

slowly, her hands creep up your side until she's holding your chest, gently tracing over the scars as she presses kisses to your neck and cheek.

"i love you." she whispers. "you're perfect, y'know." she says.

(it's always easy to believe her, especially when you can feel her dick growing hard against your ass.)

in the bedroom, sevika'd always have her mouth on your scars. tracing them with her tongue, pressing kisses to the center of your chest or your nipples, sucking hickeys underneath the scars to decorate them.

she still sleeps on your chest-- slightly less comfortable now without the fat of your breasts to cushion her-- but she doesn't care.

sometimes, you wake up to her whispering secrets to the scars.

"so pretty. so perfect."

"fuckin' sexy ass body."

and your favorite so far, "you made 'em so happy. never saw 'em smile as big as they did when they first saw their new chest. thank you." whispered reverently against the scar tissue on your skin.

you had to snap your eyes shut to pretend to be sleeping when she pulled back away, not wanting her to know you caught her.

she knows, though. she can hear your rapid heart beat beneath her ear as she settles back down. she doesn't say anything, just presses a kiss to your skin, a smile on her lips.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess

[dragonridernoobie]

Helloooooo!! So I have an oc and I was wondering if you could do a scenario with TFP Megatron and my oc about him capturing her from the Autobots and keeping her as a pet.

APPEARANCE:

My ocs name is Gianna, she is 5’8 and she’s human. She has thick brown hair that’s ALWAYS down (unless she needs to tie her hair up) her eyes are yellow, which I’ll explain in a bit, she has eyebags and like a scar across her right eye. Her pronouns are she/her, she also has a right bionic arm!! She wears one side off shoulder shirt, showing a black strap underneath, she also wears baggy jeans. Along with some bracelets too, no necklaces!! She’s 21 btw, so she’s the oldest out the humans in the Autobot base.

DISLIKES AND LIKES:

-she loves animals, mainly snakes.

-her favorite color is yellow

-she loves streetwear style

-she’s also addicted to horror!

-she loved music<3

-she HATES being cut off while talking

-she hates being told what to do while doing it

-she also hates her family</3

BACK STORY:

Ok so this is where I tell you abt her yellow eyes and her hatred towards her famz. So at the age of like 6-10 she was abused, she was the. Sold by her parents at 13 to MECH, at first they didn’t know what to do with her. But they ran experiments on her, tortured her, cut her right arm off on PURPOSE, replacing it with a bionic. The bionic can retract claws from her finger tips, she also has a blaster on her palm for defense. Using it though hurts, so she barely uses it. Her yellow eyes came from experiments that were tested on her. She then escaped at 19 and was found by the bots BEFORE jack, Miko, and raf. Present time, she was taken by Megatron onto the Nemesis after a battle with the Autobots.

(Ok ima be so fr rn, idk if you needed all this information so I’m so sorry:( I just rlly like telling abt my oc to ppl sometimes😓 but my request is just scenario (basically a lil story) of Megatron and Gianna on the Nemesis together. Slight romance pls🙏 IF U SEE THIS AND PLAN TO DO IT TYSM. TAKE YOUR TIME WITH IT!!)

Don't be sorry for telling me all this stuff! It really helps me alot, knowing how you're OC acts and there hates/likes. So please, don't be sorry! I hope you like this, and I'm sorry if it took a while, even when you said take my time with it. I don't like to keep people waiting for week(s) so I get it as soon as possible but also making it good.

TFPMegatronXOC

Gianna was fighting with arcee. They where both blasting away at the decepticons. While they fought, Bumblebee beeps in alarm when miko suddenly appeared and was being held by a decepticon. Arcee quickly ran towrd the deception holding miko. Gianna was still fighting off a few decpticons when suddenly a tentacle wrapped around her. She looks up and sees Soundwave. She tries to call for help but quickly is knocked out by a shock. Soundwave opens a groundbridge and walks thru it. On the other side was the lord of the decepticons. Lord megatron. He was standing in front of a screen, his servos behind his back. When Soundwave walks toward him, megatron turns around and smiles.

Megatron: "Ah, Soundwave. I see you got the human."

Soundwave: "..."

Megatron: "bring her to knockouts lab, so he can look out her and find out how she is able to take on a decpticon on her own.

Soundwave: "..."

Soundwave then walks to knockouts lab. He puts Gianna into a container and leaves. Soon Gianna wakes up confused. While she looks around, she realized he was in some container.

Gianna looks at the glass and smiles. Already having a plane. She pulls out a hairband from her pocket and ties her hair up. She then pulls back her bionic arm and smashes the glass to pieces. She hops down and quickly runs off to the doorway. The door dident sense her. So she finds a new way. There was a panned next to the door and she clips a way up to the panel. From her years of being tortured by MECH, they made her do so many experiments. One of them was if she was able to learn wiring. So when she opened the panel, she immediately knew what cords to rip out....which was all of them.

Once she did, the door opened and she ran out, running fave first into somone. When she looks up, knockout was looking down at her.

Knockout: "well, well, well, the little human thinks they can escape. Come here you little pest.

Ginna: "I don't think so cherry!"

Knockout: "my name is not cherry!"

Knockout transformers his servo into a saw and tries to hit Gianna. Gianna quickly dodges his attacks and jumps up his arm. She then runs up his arm, jumping out of the way when his other hand tries to hit her. She runs all the way up his arm and jumps. Using her bionic arm to punch him right in the face. Fully knocking him over.

Gianna wases no time to finish him off. She bolts down the hallway. While she runs, she comes around Soundwave, who is already waiting for her. She stops in her tracks and stares him down.

Soundwave soon shoots his tentacles at her and she dodges all of them and running towrd him. When he tries to grab her with his arms. She pulls out her weapon and hits him. Hard.

While Soundwave was distracted, she runs off again. Soon coming face to face with lord megatron. Gianna waste no times of transforming her bionic arm into a blaster and points it at him. Megatron charging up his blaster at her. They both point their blasters at eachother, not firing.

Megatron: "you are quite the impressive human, and it seems we stand at a stand still."

Gianna: "not really, you can kill me easily-"

Megatron: "yes, but I have an offer to you."

Gianna: "don't interrupt me! And I have no intest in joining the decepticons if that's what you are gonna ask."

Megatron: "ha, clever, but that's not my offer. My offer is you tell me where the autobot base is and I don't kill you're family."

Gianna: "kill them, they where nothing but crule to me and sold me away."

Megatron: "...you are quite intresting. I will keep you as my pet."

Gianna: "I'm no one's pet!"

Gianna then fires her blaster but shoots it right into megatrons blaster, making it break. She then runs past him. Megatron growls and runs off.

They end up on the flight deck where Gianna is cornered.

Megatron: "you have no where to go. You better off being my pet since you will live."

Gianna: "not today."

Gianna then pushes a button on her arm that alerts the autobot base for SOS groundbrigde. She then falls backwards and falls thru the sky.

Megatron definitely was surprised by that but dident give up. He transformers and flies towrd her. Before he reached her, a groundbridge opens and Gianna falls through. Megatron pulls up before he flies into the groundbridge. When he flies back around, the groundbridge is gone.

Megatron lands back on the flight deck and transformers again. He looks down at the empty sky and at the land below. After a few long moments, he burst out laughing, a Genreal laugh. After he calms down, he smiles.

Megatron: "well, played Gianna. Well played. I hope we can see eachother again."

I hope you enjoyed it!!!!

[uravichii]

Hi! Can you show your wip?? It's okay if you don't have any or don't want to!

HELLOO i just started writing again this week so yea here's what i got in my drafts rn >< i haven't deciced on the titles yet ,, but lmk which ones you guys want to see first !!

roommate!shinsou, mutual pining, friends-to-lovers, sexual tension 🙏 (requested)

"you hated it that much? i thought for sure you'd have a good time with him. he's... fun. he's sweet. he'sー "

"he's not you."

shinsou blinks, willing his love-stupid brain to believe his ears. he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. he turns his head to the side, his hand drawing to the nape of his neck as he glances at you sheepishly.

he lets the silence linger until he makes up his mind. he clears his throat with a determined stareー why back out now? he's wanted this for so long.

"hey." he croaks, "i'm going to kiss you."

best-friends-to-lovers with bakugou 😫 mutual pining ofc, lots of kisses 💋

"well..." you meekly look aside, fiddling with his thumb. "what if we were best friends who... occasionally kiss?"

"fuck no. i've had 'nough of that."

OKAYYY this sounds weird but todoroki shouto w/ a lowkey masochistic reader 😭 HEAR ME OUT !! s/o reads a lot of shoujo manga n basically asks shouto to act like one of those rude, arrogant male leads for a few days 😁 (sfw with a liiiittle bit of spice)

you wonder if you could even push his buttonsー what would your sweet, tenderhearted boyfriend look like when he's furious at you? if he's even capable, that is.

"shou?" you let the shoujo manga fall on your lap as you stare up at your boyfriend, batting your pretty lashes at him. "can i get a kiss?"

he smiles softly before smoothing his palms down your hair, flattening them down to the sides of your neck. he gently angles your face up to his, and it's not surprising when he kisses you so softly and brief, as if the slightest bit of pressure of his lips against yours could burn you.

shouto pulls away and smiles. you clear your throat.

"oh, sorry. i meant, can you pin me to the wall, roughly grab my face, and then give me a kiss?"

insomniac shinsou x sleepy reader <- a match made in heaven

"yeah." he snorts. "i think at one point i just stopped breathing just so i wouldn't wake you."

“idiot." you chuckle; he smiles. "what do you even do when i fall asleep on our dates? you know, to pass the time?"

'oh nothing, i tidy up your room a little, fill up your ice traysー oh and then i stare at your sleeping form until there's tears forming in my eyes becauseー god, what did i ever do to deserve someone as beautiful as you? you're an angel. what are you doing with a person like me?"

"i fill up your ice trays." he says blankly. no, he's not about to scare you away like that.

here's some of my other wips but like,, i can't show any snippets yet (bc they don't exist yet)

bakugo acting dramatic bc he loves being babied by his s/o (drabble)

high school crush part 3 !! - bnha boys crushing on you in high school (hcs)

domestic (hcs) 🙏

accidental i love you's (hcs)

bakugo letting you put makeup on him bc he made u mad n apparently that's the only way he can earn your forgiveness 😍 (drabble)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

SEL……………………

i finally got around to reading this!!!! :3 im sorry it took so long PJDJD bUT honestly im glad i took my time w it because this fic really does deserve a thorough reading!!!!! and i think i needed time to just….. Absorb a lot of it. to be in a good headspace. i still cried though i dont even know where to begin honestly!!! 

sel……….. something about your writing just makes me sob. I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS BUT…….. its just always so painfully soft. to the point where it hurts a little bit? 😭😭 in a VERY good way to be clear, but reading ur fics feels a little like going to therapy…. i cried a LOT reading this. so much of it is soooo heartwrenching but you never fail to patch it up w more softness and that’s just.

i take back the therapy comparison actually bc reading this felt more like going thru surgery…. getting scalpel’d and then sewn back together again….. but like. in a gentle way.

if u cant tell im a bit delirious rn bc there’s just so much i want to say 😭😭 but!! overall i am just in AWE of your writing style. always always always. how effortlessly u mess up my emotions…… i really do think its such a wonderful talent for a writer to have!!! i always without fail feel SO much reading ur fics :’3 if sel has a million fans i am one of them if she has no fans i am no longer on this earth 🙏🙏 u r so so so talented!! (but i expect financial compensation for every single tear i shed reading this PHDJD)

anyways!!! onto the actual fic… gosh. sel what have u done to me. i honestly truly dont know where to begin, i loved so so SO many things abt it, my notes are a mess, this might be a little incoherent but pls just know i adored this fic from start to finish…….. DEFINITELY one of my favorite depictions of gojo ever.

BUT OK im just gonna try to get all my thoughts out in a … somewhat ….. cohesive manner ….. i just hope u can feel the love i have for u and this fic <333333 im gonna take a page out of ur book and format this the same way u do when u rb my stuff!! and Hope that it turns out semi-structured… I FEEL A LITTLE LIKE IM WRITING AN ESSAY RN but im so unbelievably serious abt this sel. im treating this like a paper worth 80% of my grade.

When Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it. <- how DARE u start with this line u immediately shattered my heart 😔😔 this set such a distinct tone for the entire fic and its such a genius take on gojo….. his approach to love. his choice not to reach for it as a contrast to his somewhat greedy nature. more on that later though!!

BUT ON THAT NOTE………. gosh sel. i knew i was gonna love ur depiction of gojo in this obviously but i was really so so awestruck by how thoughtfully uve written him here 🥺🥺🥺 hes sooooo cute but he also feels so heartwrenchingly real, so vulnerable AND AND AND: soooooo human. i was completely enamored by so many lines and moments in this, when he gets shy and nervous and when his boyish side shines through. when you get a peek of who gojo Really is, when you strip away the godhood and resonsibilities and he feels safe.

You’d think this a rejection, if any, but he doesn’t move away from you, and the blush blooming at the tips of his ears says more than he ever could. 

Your eyes trail to the side of his neck, hidden in the shadows of his jawline; there’s really nothing, but sometimes you blink and see crimson, oozing, gushing, leaking—you shake away the thought.  

He looks cozy, almost boyish, beaming against the autumn breeze blowing on his thick gray hoodie. 

Gojo continues to eat, blabbering about a site visit he’s assigned to next week, but you don’t miss the way his ears are fully red and how he’s biting his lips to death. <- THIS ONE IN PARTICULAR…. literally had to take a breather after this hooowwwwww do u write him so cute. tell me ur secrets. hes so cute im literally tearing up writing this hhhhhh 😥😥😥

its a side of gojo that i think a lot of people dont explore, bc he never really shows it in the manga, but i really do think that its exactly how he’d be in a situation like this!!! one thats completely unknown to him and hinges on that raw, unguarded, human part of his heart…. its such an interesting side of him.

it can be super cute to read, like all the moments in this where he gets a bit awkward and blushes and everything, but other times its just….. Unbelievably Heartbreaking. like when he gets downright desperate and openly afraid. its so chilling in a way because gojo as a character is always so calm and collected and chill, but then u have these moments of unfiltered emotion that are just….. so hard to read? but also so interesting and just. so Good. so wonderfully written i was FLOORED….. this moment in particular:

“Wait,” he swallows, a franticness you’ve never seen before. His head stays down as he bites his lips, sunglasses hanging by his fingertips. You wonder what he wants to say, that even if it comes out messy, it’s okay. You want to tell him that it’s just you—that you’ll always want to hear it all anyway. 

What comes next is unlike any version of Satoru you have ever known—nervous and uncertain, almost like he’s afraid. He lowers himself, slowly coming down to his knees in front of you. A giant of a man so small in your presence. 

“I don’t know how.” he mutters, dropping his sunglasses to the floor. 

GAHHHHH……. PDJDJDBXBC ……… can u hear my heart breaking sel. a giant of a man so small in your presence……………. the way he opens himself up here. (and the way he drops his sunglasses!! the symbolism hhhh its so satisfying.) he comes off as almost helpless and thats just………… its so tough to read LMAO like truly!!! it gutted me!!!!! but i love it so much. and reader being so so SO patient (more on that later but sel shes literally my Wife i love her to death)

i think gojo is very much afraid of love, and that wounded part of him shines through so effortlessly in the way u write him here….. its such a realistic and grounded take and it just feels so right. which is probably also why it hurts so much :’3 but ive been thinking abt this a lot tbh, not just in regards to col but ALL your fics, just….. how good you are at really looking at a character and seeing their human side. and capturing it!! expressing it!!! lil habits of theirs, or vulnerable aspects that others might stray from…… im sure ive already said this and ill definitely repeat myself LMAO but!! youre such a wonderful writer sel. i really was so floored by all this!! how u make gojo feel so genuinely human, just in the way his ears go red or he bites his lip….

ohhhh also!! before i forget!!!!!! the divinity theme……. the god theme……. (explodes). literally every single time u write abt it i picture our braincells connecting PHDJDF i LOVE ur take on it so much!!

How does he tell you that he must be fucked in the head? That every second in his mind is another step closer to insanity? That he’s lost your tether on Satoru in pursuit of Gojo—of being a god? 

^ LIKE………….. this entire paragraph. how he feels himself seeking the ’gojo’ in his name instead of the ’satoru’… n how reader always only calls him satoru!! he is slipping away!!!! n distancing himself from the person who makes him feel most human!!!!! im rattling at the bars of my cage sel. 

BUT okok. lets talk abt my favorite part of this fic. there are Many bUT…… i think overall what affected me most and had me crying most (and obv also the main theme of the fic!!) is gojo’s relation to Love. his fear of it. but also his yearning for it. u show everything so subtly yet vividly and it feels so grounded and real!!! such a bigbrained take on him. how he loves reader but also fears how she affects him, how HE affects her…….. the softness he feels but also that panic. and just how closed off he is….

aaaaa there were just SO many lines that explored that part of him in so many different ways and i loved them all to bits:

It’s dangerous, he thinks, how you make wanting something so complicated seem so simple.

“I’ll tell you,” he starts, “but you have to look away." (....) “I’m fine,” he says to the back of your head, “you have nothing to worry about.” <- THIS… gahh… how he has to physically avert his gaze to lie to her. the symbolism here too… how his eyes reveal how he truly feels. im so weak for it sellllll ;w;

Gojo’s a pretty bad communicator; for how much he talks, he doesn’t really say much—and maybe that’s the root of all this. There are too many things he wants to say but can’t formulate in the right way. 

“I can’t.” he speaks softly. What hurts the most is that beneath his sunglasses, his eyes still hold the sky. You think you want to cry. <- ME TOO READER ME TOO .. the helplessness here. the helplessness and discomfort that gojo must feel….. oughhh

It’s threatening, he thinks, how you can say so much with so little. 

(…) how Gojo is now afraid of love, more than anything else, not because of loss but because he might not know how. <- if u listen closely u can hear my muffled sobbing in the distance

But it doesn’t come. You feel Gojo’s breath stilling before speeding up into little exhales. Something is wrong.

You realize that it must be true then, what they say, that those who love to be feared, fear to be loved, because you’ve never seen anyone afraid of something so good as Gojo is of this. <- (SOUND OF GLASS SHATTERING) SELLLLL I AM GRABBING U BY THE SHOULDERS…. this is sooo… so………… i cant speak just know i resonate a lot w col!gojo + i cried LMAO

Gojo hates it, how you’ve always had to adjust for him. He hates that he can’t give you this one thing, hates that you’re still so patient, that he’s still so afraid. He swallows, closing his eyes tight before opening them again.  “I want to,” he chokes out, “I just don’t know—”

^ this entire moment…… GOD. the fact that he isnt incapable of it or anything, he just literally doesnt know how!!! and the frustration of that…. someone like gojo, who is good at Literally Everything EXCEPT for giving and receiving love. ack. it hurts but its such a real aspect of his character and u depict that side of him so well…….. how he wishes he could give u this One thing. when ur so patient. :( hes a sweetie and hes flawed and hes trying his best.

i know ive said this before but…. i really do identify so so much with col!gojo!!!! im kind of in love w col!reader bc of that LMAOO she’s just….. to have someone love you so gently and patiently……… with so much care. yeah. i get why gojo is literally gutted by her presence. hes so Me. 

and THATS my segway into col!reader <333 my beloved. my angel on earth. i love her!!!!! so so dearly!!!!!!!!! she has this older sister vibe that just makes me want to hug her ☹️☹️🤧 

i talked abt this a tiny bit before but she really has this resiliance abt her!! shes so so strong and kind and those traits melt together so seamlessly. i love how gojo is physically the stronger one, but when it comes to the emotional aspect reader is just so much more brave and willing to be vulnerable….. even when its scary for her too.

and how that rubs off on toru!!!! i adore their dynamic SO much and you wrote it so thoughtfully sel!!! i lovelovelove them. and its so perfect for gojo too…. i know u and i agree on this but i genuinely dont think any trope works better for gojo than slowburn/friends to lovers…. u just Get it

there’s just something so sweet about the way they interact, how they help each other!! their love is so so so tender and gentle and just. loving. its a slowburn and thats comfortable for both of them. there is just so so much care between these two!!! and getting to see the way their relationship slowly blossoms was such a treat 🥺🥺

“I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.” When you offer your heart to Gojo, he looks at you softly. 

^ this gutted me like a sad fish. ive said this before but ur ability to turn my heart into sashimi w only a couple of finely chosen words kills me every time

Once Gojo turns to give you the cone, you reach for his other hand tentatively, shyly—your fingertips grazing his palm lightly. You want to give him an out if he can’t take this, but he doesn’t move. He twitches a little, as if he’s been caught off guard, but that’s it. <- FUCKKKK . sorry. im just ;; shes just ;;;;; the way she ALWAYS gives him an out in case its too much. she loves gojo so patiently and tenderly and thats exactly how he deserves to be loved :(

You choose to show him slowly, gently, like the trickling introduction of water to a man who is first learning how to drink. <- THISSSS GOD ur choice of words sel….. u really get such a good grasp on their dynamic and love just from this single sentence

It grows organically that way: knuckles brushing as you both reach for the stapler, pinkies touching whenever you walk side-by-side during site visits—until you’re able to hold his hand fully again, leaving that little infinity between your palms for him to close (hopefully, one day). <- THE SUBTLE INTIMACY;;;;;;;

Shoko asks what you are and you don’t know what to tell her other than you’re happy and it’s good. <- SHOKO MENTION but also i adore this line. stuck out to me a lot while reading!! tbh i think this is all love needs to be; it doesnt have to be labelled to mean something. theyre happy and its good!!

(i always get so giddy when i see how much our views of gojo overlap also .. i have a fic thats literally just this one line!! a relationship w gojo that isnt quite a relationship but the love is there and thats enough :’3 im just. aaa. im so thankful for u sel!! our gojo discussions mean the world to me <3)

You chuckle, without judgment, “I don’t either,” you lean forward, foreheads touching, “but do you want to try together?” <- MY HEARTTTTTTTT SHES SO….. shes like if someone gathered a bundle of the softest sweetest loveliest flowers n turned em into a person :< theres so much love in her heart!!

if i was gojo i’d be bawling LMAO just!!! to be treated so tenderly!!!! so patiently!!!!!! i doubt he’s has ever been met w so much tenderness and love :( it must feel scary to him but reader is just always so reassuring… to me the One dynamic that will always make me crumble is a patient, kind person who chooses to love someone who’s damaged and afraid. its difficult and tough but!! the love is there!! and the patience is so healing to me.

and needless to say u portrayed it soooo wonderfully…. u show how hard it is for both of them, how much theyre both struggling but still willing to bare their hearts to each other… how reader has to tiptoe that line between fondness and love and intimacy, not get too close but not too far… how its kinda like trying to take care of a wounded animal — if you move too quickly itll try to stumble away.

CAN U TELL IM NORMAL ABT THIS phddjjd i just. sel………… there is a tiny lil portion of my heart that belongs entirely to u and ur gojo and ur delicious takes on him <3333 

but angst and hurt/comfort aside theyre also just. SO cute. i was gushing over them the whole time!!!!! im especially weak for shy nervous gojo SEL HES LITERALLY SO…… i dont know who im more jealous of at this point. theyre both so cute. u can sense their history and fondness for each other just in the way they speak, and the air between them is just so so so warm. i want them to adopt me i think. or just be their friend. or join their relationship 

It’s always like this with Gojo: he pulls you in and you follow. No matter the distance between you, when you sit down together like this, it still always flows so easily. The banter you’ve built together over a decade and more shines through no matter what state your relationship is in. 

“You know…” he looks to the side, pouting, “whatever you do….” “Like…?” you coax lightly, trying hard to hide the small smile forming on your lips. He grips his pants tighter, fabric bunching under his fingers, “When you hold my hand… those things. You get it.”  You wonder how many versions of Satoru you’ll meet in your lifetime, and if this one, shy and nervous, will be one you’ll fit into the crevices of your heart just like all the others. 

^ GOOD GOD (i exploded.) sel im literally so serious u r DAMAGING my brain hes way too cute. i think that if i flustered gojo like this i would simply fall to my knees and cry. hes just the cutest guy in the world i think. blushy and sweet. its embarrassing how down bad i am for him

You nod, opening your mouth. Gojo’s eyes widen, nearly dropping the spoon at your request. You see the flush of his cheeks and smile, corners of your mouth extending wider. The spoon is shoved to your mouth too quickly, almost like he’s embarrassed to feed you.  <- cutiepie 😭

“Too sweet.” “Like me, right?” he winks. “Sure,” you drawl sarcastically and Gojo smiles like it’s high praise. 

You turn to him, a shy smile on your face. The tips of his ears are blush red but he looks at you the same, “Your hands were cold,” he pouts, “is this– is this okay?”  “Yeah, it’s warm. Thank you, Satoru.” you nod, beaming.

^ CUTIEPIEEEEEEE 😭😭😭

“There’s a secret ingredient.” He swallows before he scoffs, “What?” (...) “Love?”  You’re surprised because he says it so casually, and Gojo’s never talked about love, has never even mentioned the word since this shift in your relationship. He realizes a beat late by the expression on your face and gets flustered, thinking immediately of ways to brush past it.  (…) “if it is?” you whisper, pretending to stir your coffee.  Gojo doesn’t know how to approach this, really, but he’s come too far to back out now. He clears his throat, mentally running through what he wants to say, then, “Good. ‘Cause that’s what I put in your coffee too.” 

^ this whole scene……. psjdksbxjdbjxkzkz. so cute.

When he leaves for missions, you kiss his cheek, pull him in by the hand and linger there, shyly. He gets embarrassingly red but tries to cover it up by telling you not to miss him too much (even though you know you will, and he knows he’ll miss you more).  Your near-kisses with Gojo happen more frequently, and it comes to a point where he even manages to land one on your forehead, while you fall asleep next to him on his office couch. 

^ sel 🤝 the most gutwrenching heartfluttering depictions of subtle intimacy i have seen in my life

You stand there stunned for a good minute before you shake out of it, laughing. Gojo yells about how you’re being so mean, making fun of him when he’s like this, but you aren’t—not really. <- the banter!! the playful teasing n laughter!!!!!!! theyre so comfortable with each other and its so fun to read. :>

and sel…… just as a final note; this should hopefully be obvious atp but i ADORE ur writing. so so so much. i love the way this is written and i had to stop literally every two seconds to write down a line that i loved. i think the only ones i havent mentioned yet are these!!:

There are crescent indents on your palm from squeezing your knuckles too hard. You think, is this how you form shallow cuts on your heart? <- SO PRETTYYYYYYY

You learn that Gojo sees himself so differently from how you do—and maybe that’s everyone, but Gojo tends to say things while doing the other. He says he can’t bother with kids, but continues to take so many of them under his wing anyway; he calls your cereal concoction disgusting but tastes it regardless; and he says he can’t think about love, doesn’t know how, but proceeds to try so much harder, everyday.  When you look at Gojo, you see a heart so big, so capable, that he can’t see it himself. 

^ this one means so much to me. ive run out of brain juice atp but like … sel ….. 🥺🥺🥺😥😥 the way u just understand him. hes not perfect, hes not a saint, but he loves and he loves and he loves even when it only ever hurts him. there’s something so human about gojo and ironically i think it hinges on how isolated he is? just… the fact that he continues to love despite that gap is so telling to me!!! i agree w reader so much, he doesnt understand how kind he is :( but he has a lot of love in his heart too.

u can probably tell but this rly did just tear my heart right out of my chest sel………….. im sniffling. tearing up. but im so so so happy and grateful that i found u and ur fics <3333 this really felt so healing!! im so excited to read more col sometime soon <33

give col!reader and col!gojo a lil kiss on the head from me pls 🥺

₊˚⊹｡ tell me about love (show me how) | gojo satoru

wc: 7.4k

summary: you teach gojo how to love. 

contains: f!reader in mind but no pronouns mentioned, descriptions of blood (typical jjk canon type stuff), shibuya onwards manga spoilers, implied minor character death, there are swears, suggestive bit at the end (but it’s funny!), lots of internal thoughts/dialogues, kind of canon divergent

a/n: relates to my short blurb, do you believe in love?, explores a lot on how i think gojo would be when it comes to love; ambiguous but linear timeline (jumps through scenes)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 01. do you believe in love? <- you are here -> 2.5. and my body keeps saying (it's yours)

When Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it. 

It’s unusual for him to be so restrained, being born into greed and predetermined purpose—a one-man clan fated to hold power close to God. There exists a hunger within him, insatiable and stubborn, unstoppable until he gets what he wants. It’s all he’s ever known: to take and devour, simply because he can. 

Yet with this, he doesn’t. He can’t seem to. 

“I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.” 

When you offer your heart to Gojo, he looks at you softly. 

You catch his eyes and see the sky, bright, with flecks of light floating on his irises like cotton clouds in its periphery. It’s different from the piercing blue you’re used to—a terrifying riptide that washes you away. 

It wasn’t intended as a confession, but Gojo always takes whatever you have to say. He commits it to memory each time; how could he not? Words that come from you flow so naturally, so earnestly that the air around you shifts all on its own.

His lips part slightly, red spatterings lining pink inner corners before they close again. He doesn’t say anything, but you know Gojo and the fingerprints of his soul—the way he bites his lips to withhold himself from speaking. 

It’s dangerous, he thinks, how you make wanting something so complicated seem so simple.

He takes a small breath, then you feel it, pressed against you—the faint signature of his cursed energy overlaying his entirety. It tickles your skin a little, the effects of it brushing. You don’t remember the last time he put it up around you.

A million things run through Gojo’s mind for every split second he breathes, but at this point in time, he counts a million and one—one thought that if he touches you by infinity instead of his hands, he can have this good thing for now, that this is the only way how. 

You’d think this a rejection, if any, but he doesn’t move away from you, and the blush blooming at the tips of his ears says more than he ever could. 

.

.

.

The subtle intimacy you share with Gojo grows sporadically, from knuckles brushing to pinkies touching. He stands next to you more often, a few inches closer than he used to and sometimes, still, with an infinity connecting you.

.

.

.

When you hold Gojo’s hand for the first time, he jolts very slightly, as if you’ve shocked him. He’s started to put his infinity down around you again, and you continue the limbo of whatever it is you both are—except this time, he’s made it clearer, just a little bit. 

During the last few leaves of fall, Gojo skips to an ice cream stand like a pre-schooler on early dismissal. You trail behind him slowly, shaking your head affectionately; he’s the only adult you know that still acts like he’s 5. 

“You’re like a horse.” you jest, stopping next to him in line.

“You’re a snail.” he huffs, side-eyeing you, like a child.

You gasp exaggeratingly, hitting his arm. He fake-winces, but that’s all it is; Gojo’s the strongest and you don’t know of any human touch that has managed to hurt him, except—

Yeah. Your eyes trail to the side of his neck, hidden in the shadows of his jawline; there’s really nothing, but sometimes you blink and see crimson, oozing, gushing, leaking—you shake away the thought.  

When he receives his ice cream cone stacked with vanilla-strawberry-vanilla and rainbow sprinkles on top, the smile on his face parallels the sun. He looks cozy, almost boyish, beaming against the autumn breeze blowing on his thick gray hoodie. 

You wonder if he feels just as warm.

(Maybe that’s why you do it, then).

Once Gojo turns to give you the cone, you reach for his other hand tentatively, shyly—your fingertips grazing his palm lightly. You want to give him an out if he can’t take this, but he doesn’t move. He twitches a little, as if he’s been caught off guard, but that’s it. 

His eyes widen briefly, just a bit, before turning into the same soft skies frequenting them lately. 

“Sorry, is this okay?” you whisper, peering up at him. 

He stares at you for a while, his hand in yours unmoving. You leave a sliver of space between your palms–your own version of his infinity–just in case. And he takes it all in: how tiny your hand is wrapped around his, how gently you speak—how warm he feels now amidst this autumn breeze. 

“The strawberry’s really good,” he finally replies, pressing the dessert closer to you, “try it.” 

You give him one last look before you indulge in his request. Gojo’s always been good at that: pushing and pulling—pushing you away with non-answers only to pull you back in with something else. 

But he doesn’t let go of your hand, so you keep yours there, palms nearly touching. (You make a point not to mention how the parts that do touch become clammy for the rest of the afternoon). 

.

.

.

You start to think that your relationship with Gojo is going somewhere, then he disappears (‘gets sealed’ might be the more proper term). 

His absence is deafening. You’ve all lost so much, and it hurts, but you carry on knowing full well that this is what being a jujutsu sorcerer means. There aren’t many left to fight his fight, so you do what you can to. You stay with Shoko, mostly, if not going back and forth with Utahime. You can’t afford to be crying when the students, the kids—you can’t even bear to think about what they’re going through.

Nights are the hardest, when the world is quiet but your mind is loud, throwing far too many questions you can’t find the answers to.

What will Gojo come back to? Then the scarier thought: Will he even come back? 

You don’t want to doubt him, ever, but your mind continues to play back that day, like a final memory. The unintentional confession; his eyes like the sky. 

You don’t want it to be the last important thing you tell him. 

“I should start looking into retirement plans, like Nanamin.” you raise an eyebrow, questioning. Gojo’s never spoken this far into the future before, most especially his. 

“Work is shit now for you too?” you scoff, leaning back on the wooden ledge. 

Gojo rolls his eyes, skipping the coverage of his blindfold today. 

“Well, after I remove the old geezers and change everything, there won’t be much left to do.” 

You hum in response. He does make a point. 

“Also, Megumi won’t need me anymore,” he pouts, whining, “who else will want me around?” 

You try to hold back your laugh, wanting so badly to tell him that Megumi doesn’t even really like him around to begin with—but you figure breaking Gojo’s heart isn’t really something you want to do if you value your peace. 

“I don’t know,” you reply, shifting your weight, “I think I’ll always want to be with you, Satoru.” 

Even now, especially now. You wish you were with him, too. 

.

.

.

The day you hear of Gojo’s potential return, you drop your breakfast outside the 7-Eleven near Jujutsu Tech. You’re supposed to meet up with Utahime for a weekly check-in but your feet take you to Shoko, and the footsteps in your heart have never echoed louder. 

This is the first good news in a while—especially after finding out about the state of Megumi and what happened to Tsumiki, your sweet girl Tsumiki. 

When Gojo comes back, it’s like he never left. He pops out of the box joking the same way, talking the same way. He proves himself to be the strongest all the same, and when he wins—there are scars, but he wins and that fact stays the same. 

So, when you reach for his hand now and he moves away, you’re stuck wondering what’s changed. 

.

.

.

You let it stay that way for a while, your understanding extending to Gojo the way it always has—you don’t push, and he gives you what he can. It honestly isn’t all that bad, because at least he’s still talking to you like he used to. 

Jujutsu society is still shaken from its core. You and all who have survived bear the task of building everything from the ground up; it’s exhausting, especially since most of you are still mourning. 

Megumi’s been put in an induced coma; you understand why but it still tugs at your heart when Shoko tells you it might take a while. Everyone else has been assigned to sweep through the rest of Japan to ensure that any remaining curses are taken care of. 

You see Yuuji and Yuuta visit Megumi sometimes, along with Maki and Toge when they’re free. Gojo’s there pretty often too, using healing sessions with Shoko as an excuse to see the boy he’s practically raised at 17, with you. 

But while Gojo’s smiles to everyone else remain as charming as ever, you can always tell when they’re untrue. 

.

“Are you okay?” 

You find Gojo a little after midnight on the rooftop of the faculty building. The city always looks pretty from up here—a sea of lights reflected up on the sky. It’s a running joke that rooftops are Gojo’s ‘thing’, but you know he really only comes to places like this to think. You wonder what’s on his mind now, coming here every single night since being unsealed. 

Despite how quiet you try to be, sneaking up on Gojo is almost impossible; he senses you before he hears you, sees the familiar traces of your cursed energy through his Six Eyes. 

“Can’t sleep thinking about me?” he teases, looking straight ahead.

The steps you take towards him are careful, afraid of running him off like you seem to be lately. You sit beside him, leaving a space larger than you usually do, then shrug, “These days, yeah.”

It���s times like this when Gojo forgets how honest you can be, how he takes your word for everything, completely. 

It’s threatening, he thinks, how you can say so much with so little. 

“Well, maybe I can suggest—” 

“Seriously, Satoru,” you grip the ledge tightly, knuckles turning white, “please.” 

You tend to let Gojo dodge your questions a lot of the time, his elusiveness a hallmark of who he is. So you never sound like you do now, serious, pleading. 

Gojo fiddles with his fingers, pondering. He hums lowly before speaking, “Does it matter?” 

It hurts you a little, how that’s even a question. He should know better than to ask that to you. 

“It matters to me, Satoru,” you sigh, “you know it does.”

You barely catch the way his brows furrow at your response, but there are creases on his blindfold that can’t be created by anything else. And Gojo knows—is so painfully aware of the way you care. 

Since coming back, he’s never felt like he’s fully returned. It’s an odd existence of in-between, like he breathes everything and nothing all at the same time. The emotions are even worse, overloading his senses with feelings he can never pinpoint. 

How does he tell you that he must be fucked in the head? That every second in his mind is another step closer to insanity? That he’s lost your tether on Satoru in pursuit of Gojo—of being a god? 

“I’ll tell you,” he starts, “but you have to look away.”

You’ve always treated Gojo tenderly, patiently, and he knows, without a doubt, that no matter what he says you will continue to do the same. But he can’t allow that, not anymore. Not after the way you looked at him that day.

“Okay,” you mutter, turning your head the other way. 

He breathes out and you can almost picture it: half-bitten lips and eyes like low tide. 

“I’m fine,” he says to the back of your head, “you have nothing to worry about.” 

A breeze picks up and brushes past your neck. It’s a lie. He knows it, knows you know it too, but—

it’s easier this way, he thinks, to give you answers when you’re not looking.

Gojo’s never found a weakness he can’t work around, but he might have just found one with you—in your eyes, that read through his every lie. If you turn around now, he’ll want to tell you everything.

“Satoru,” you whisper, letting his name fill the air. You get it—him, and even when you don’t, you try damn hard to because you refuse to let Gojo carry all of it on his own. 

There are crescent indents on your palm from squeezing your knuckles too hard. You think, is this how you form shallow cuts on your heart?

“It’s just me,” you continue, facing him when you say it. 

He takes you all in—your eyes that hold the city lights, your lips, the only vessel that handles his name so delicately. It’s that look on your face again and Gojo’s hit with an ache in his chest—the overwhelming truth that whatever it is, he feels the same. 

.

.

.

There’s a secret Gojo keeps, one he’s certain he’ll never tell you: that when he looks at you upon his return and finds an emotion he refuses to name, he’s never felt so afraid.  

He takes in the shadows under your eyes and the sunkenness of your cheeks—the number of blinks it takes you to reign in tears on the brink of leaking. The way your voice shakes when you say his name.

Shoko tells him about it because she knows you never will—about how you’ve been running yourself dry, speeding through colonies to gather intel for any possible way to break the seal. She tells him about the sleepless nights, how she catches you standing outside his office at 3 a.m. before travelling to Utahime the next morning. 

And he cannot comprehend it at first, cannot understand how he’s caused you to crumble this way. 

If this is all because of him, how you’ve broken yourself all for his sake, he can’t allow it. To see you ruin yourself over him, over anyone ever—you deserve better.

So, when Gojo has love for the taking, he makes no move to reach for it; he cannot possibly take any more from you if this is what is left of you when he does. 

.

.

.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you catch him by the door of the conference room. 

Rebuilding an entire society requires work and apparently a lot of meetings. Gojo doesn’t usually go to most of them, leaving you and Utahime to carry the chunk of his attendance when he’s not there. In the rare times that he does show up, he makes it a point to be the last one in and the first one out. Utahime hates him for it but you don’t blame him—he isn’t exactly amicable with other figures of authority.

He pauses when he steps out of the door, hands in pockets as he turns to face you. 

You’re not mad or anything, just stating the fact. He’s always known you to speak this way. You lean against the wall next to you, keeping your arms crossed. More people continue to file out of the conference room, some eyeing the two of you curiously as they pass by.

Gojo glances at them, suddenly self-conscious as he clears his throat, “Right, I’ve been avoiding the paperwork you left in my office,” he emphasizes, practically announcing it to everyone in the vicinity, “let’s finish it now.” 

You don’t know whether it’s irritating that Gojo’s so terribly bad at acting, or comforting that he still can’t, for the life of him, successfully lie in front of you. 

He motions for you to follow him as he strolls down the hallway, but you intentionally lag a few steps behind, careful not to encroach on his space lest it make him avoid you any more than he already is.

Stepping into Gojo’s office after so long feels weird, like you belong here but only to a memory of it—as if closing the door behind you feels like activating a muscle you haven’t for a while. It’s been months after all. 

Your eyes skim over the entire room, zeroing in on the stacks of paper lined up on his desk; paperwork has always been Gojo’s least favorite part of the job, often leaving you to do them with him (or alone, when you’re feeling generous). Not much has changed in his space; the mini living area still exists to the left of the room, with little bits of you in its interiors—the pillows, the coffee table books. 

Gojo plops down on the sofa chair and props his feet up on the ottoman, giving four scrolls to his phone before pocketing it. He has the audacity to casually offer you the seat across from him, as if nothing’s wrong—as if he hasn’t been avoiding you for god’s sake. 

Ever since the rooftop, he’s canceled lunch with you six times for reasons that you’re now realizing are less likely to be true. He’s kept a distance of at least one person in between you at all times, and to this day, you still don’t understand why. 

You sigh, taking a seat and leaning back to cross your legs. 

“You’re so bad at acting.” you start.

Being with Gojo for so long, you’ve come to realize that there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it. 

“I technically wasn’t lying.” he replies, sticking his index finger up. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” you snicker, nodding to his desk. 

It’s always like this with Gojo: he pulls you in and you follow. No matter the distance between you, when you sit down together like this, it still always flows so easily. The banter you’ve built together over a decade and more shines through no matter what state your relationship is in. 

Neither of you say anything until Gojo replaces his blindfold for his sunglasses, placing the piece of cloth on the coffee table. 

You break the silence. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you ask quietly. Gojo aches at that, how you still choose to regard him so kindly. 

Why has he been avoiding you? It’s a good question, completely valid with how he’s been treating you lately, but he could draw up every answer he has, all one million and one, and still not know what to say.

Gojo’s a pretty bad communicator; for how much he talks, he doesn’t really say much—and maybe that’s the root of all this. There are too many things he wants to say but can’t formulate in the right way. 

“If it’s something I did, can you at least let me know?” you continue. Gojo frowns, how can you be wronged yet still think of yourself as the one to blame? 

“Why do you do that?” he tuts, head tilting sideways as his hands dig deeper into his pockets. 

“Do what?” you furrow your brows, confused. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t worry about it.” he says dismissively. 

You arch an eyebrow; he has it all mistaken. 

“Satoru, I’m not worried because I feel guilty,” you sit up, inching towards the edge of your seat, “I’m worried because you’re pushing me away.” your voice is level, but your pupils shake.

Something grips at his chest seeing you this way; together or apart, he seems to be the main contributor to your heartache. 

You wonder if confronting him like this is any good if he’s not going to say anything anyway. 

“If you want space, that’s okay, I get it, but,” you exhale, “at least just tell me why.” 

This entire time avoiding you, Gojo’s had you on his mind—the million and one. He’s come to terms with what he feels when you’re together, and how it amplifies when you’re not. 

It’s shitty of him to practically ghost you, not just in text but in real life too. But he’s thought about it logically, really, that removing himself from your life should be just like ripping off a bandaid—painful but quick. At least that way, you’d get over it fast. 

He’d been resigned to doing that and that was the plan—until now. 

All it takes is seeing that look in your eyes, and his resolve falls apart. 

“I can’t.” he speaks softly. 

What hurts the most is that beneath his sunglasses, his eyes still hold the sky. 

You think you want to cry. 

You take this as your answer and close your eyes, taking a deep breath before getting up to leave. If this is goodbye, you don’t want your last interaction to be an awkward memory of him watching you bawl in his office chair. 

You push yourself up with the armrest only to sit back down—because Gojo is right in front of you, blocking your way. His infinity is up but touching, a tingling sensation sweeping across your knees. 

“Wait,” he swallows, a franticness you’ve never seen before. His head stays down as he bites his lips, sunglasses hanging by his fingertips. You wonder what he wants to say, that even if it comes out messy, it’s okay. You want to tell him that it’s just you—that you’ll always want to hear it all anyway. 

What comes next is unlike any version of Satoru you have ever known—nervous and uncertain, almost like he’s afraid. He lowers himself, slowly coming down to his knees in front of you. A giant of a man so small in your presence. 

“I don’t know how.” he mutters, dropping his sunglasses to the floor. 

You blink once, twice, still surprised by what’s in front of you. Gojo has always towered above you, has always known how to do anything and everything so effortlessly without fail. 

Watching him now, with every inhale and exhale dragging in slow motion, you do your best not to startle him. 

“How to what?” you whisper, the moment so fragile. 

He looks up, eyes locking with yours. A reaction happens in that moment—the split second of all his thoughts collapsing into one. You see a clear sky, blue and bright as day, the Satoru he saves for you—while he sees you, with that look on your face, the one that he knows has always only meant love. 

The sincerity in your gaze overwhelms him—makes him look away before it becomes too much. Red blooms at the tips of his ears as he bites the inner corners of his lips, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his pants. You’re afraid he might run away again, but he doesn’t and stays right where you are. 

“You know…” he looks to the side, pouting, “whatever you do….”

“Like…?” you coax lightly, trying hard to hide the small smile forming on your lips. 

You wonder how many versions of Satoru you’ll meet in your lifetime, and if this one, shy and nervous, will be one you’ll fit into the crevices of your heart just like all the others. 

He grips his pants tighter, fabric bunching under his fingers, “When you hold my hand… those things. You get it.” 

And you do (get it), so you don’t push, taking whatever Gojo has to give you like you always have. 

The tension relieves from you slowly, comforted by the fact that at least he’s given you his reasons now (no matter how vague they still seem to be). That at least there are no non-answers this time. 

You tell yourself that it’s okay, that you’re content as long as Gojo’s in your life even without the possibility of becoming something more. 

“Ok—”

But there’s always one thing you forget about Gojo—

“So show me how.”

—in the moments you least expect it, he speaks the words that matter most. 

.

.

.

You choose to show him slowly, gently, like the trickling introduction of water to a man who is first learning how to drink. 

In the first few weeks of you and Gojo readjusting to one another, he turns on his infinity again—but only when he gets close enough to touch you. Lunches together happen more often, dinners sometimes too. Then he puts his infinity down, indefinitely. 

For the most part, your relationship falls into the usual steps of your dynamic with Gojo; there’s no pressure for anything and he likes that, appreciates the time you’re giving him to learn things at his own pace. 

It grows organically that way: knuckles brushing as you both reach for the stapler, pinkies touching whenever you walk side-by-side during site visits—until you’re able to hold his hand fully again, leaving that little infinity between your palms for him to close (hopefully, one day). 

.

.

.

The faculty room is cold, especially during winter. The heating system is never warm enough to keep your hands from shaking whenever you mix your morning coffee. 

“So loud so early,” Gojo saunters into the kitchen, hands in pockets as he approaches the pantry. 

You stop mixing, ceasing the clinking of the spoon against your mug. “How are you not freezing?” 

He shrugs, grabbing his box of (heavily sugared) cereal. “I guess I’m just hot.” he says, turning to wiggle his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes and set your coffee on the table, Gojo following with a bowl brimming with cereal and milk. 

Mornings usually consist of you and Gojo, with an occasional new hire who has an early class that day. Most of the time, it’s just you two though, with Shoko coming in much closer to lunch time already. 

“Want some?” he asks, holding out his spoon.

It’s routine—Gojo asks and you decline, choosing to save yourself from the cavities that he somehow manages to evade despite having a diet of 80% sugar. 

Today though, you’re feeling a little adventurous. 

You nod, opening your mouth. Gojo’s eyes widen, nearly dropping the spoon at your request. You see the flush of his cheeks and smile, corners of your mouth extending wider. The spoon is shoved to your mouth too quickly, almost like he’s embarrassed to feed you. 

“Too sweet,” you scrunch your face, swallowing down the copious amount of sugar you’ll feel for days. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Gojo throughout this whole relationship trial period, he recovers from any state within a nanosecond. There’s no end to how shameless he can be. 

“Like me, right?” he winks.

“Sure,” you drawl sarcastically and Gojo smiles like it’s high praise. 

You sip your coffee slowly, revelling in the heat that flows down your throat.

“Can I have half of that?” you point to his bowl. Gojo looks at you, confused, but slides it over anyway.

What happens next is an abomination to Gojo’s eyes—pure absolute disgust: you pour half of his cereal into your coffee and mix, sipping and crunching on a few pieces every now and then. 

His face contorts into complete distaste, horror and revulsion in the way his mouth hangs open. 

“What are you doing? That’s gross!” he nearly yells, reaching over to bring your mug down. His hand covers yours for a moment, the contact still causing gallops in his heartbeat. 

You laugh, giggling as he processes what you’d wasted his cereal on. It honestly doesn’t taste that bad, you think. 

“You’re weird,” he says to you, the grin on his face uncontained. This morning, he feels fond, like the butterflies in his stomach are warm, tickling him from the inside. “Give me.” he motions to your mug. 

You hold it up for him to take a sip but he keeps his hand over yours when he tastes, sticking his tongue out once the bitterness of your coffee hits. You set the mug down, preparing to reach for your spoon, but he takes your hand in his, long fingers slotting right between yours, interlacing. 

Gojo doesn’t normally reach for your hand, much less interlace them together (a recent evolution to your hand-holding), but this feels nice, how your fingers fit right in the spaces of his. 

You turn to him, a shy smile on your face. The tips of his ears are blush red but he looks at you the same, “Your hands were cold,” he pouts, “is this– is this okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s warm. Thank you, Satoru.” you nod, beaming. And it’s not a competition but he hopes you see the light in his eyes, how it feels to be ignited within him only when he’s spending breakfasts like this with you. 

.

.

.

Shoko asks what you are and you don’t know what to tell her other than you’re happy and it’s good. Gojo’s existence is loud and vibrant, easy to spot from miles away—but he cares for you discreetly, in the hand that gently rests on your lower back while crossing the street, and the seemingly unlimited supply of your favorite coffee when you have no recollection of restocking it ever. 

He gives you a new mug for Christmas, one with little cereals painted all over while you give him his own tube of hand cream that he claims always smells like you. 

During the faculty New Year celebration, you overhear one of the new hires make a move on Gojo. You aren’t bothered by it or anything, simply walking past to sip your sake by the couch. You can hear them talk a bit from the kitchen, but you try not to pry despite how curious you are about his response. 

Until—

“I’m taken,” you hear Gojo say bluntly. 

Everything rings in your ears after that. The countdown music is loud, but your heart beats louder; there are murmurs and footsteps around you, but only one man crouches down to check on you, glass of water in hand. 

You snap out of it and see blue, the sky—a familiar light; you don’t think you can control the smile on your face, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions to paint on something lovesick. 

And when he smiles back, pink lips stretching wide—oh your heart can’t take it. He places one hand on your knee, rubbing gently. You hear it faintly, how he asks if you’re okay, but all you can do is nod, words failing to express how you feel right now.  

The countdown starts. 3 — and you take his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks to an image of him on your phone from many, many years ago. 2 — you go closer and his eyes go wide, a mixture of panic and surprise, but soft at the same time. 1 — you lean in and his eyelids fall shut, his chest on rampage. Then it lands, there, on the tip of his nose: a delicate peck and the smell of sake mixed with mint (like the lip balm you always carry around in your pocket). 

When you pull away from him, you’re smiling the biggest he’s ever seen, and he can’t feel it from how numb his cheeks have become, but he’s doing the same. 

.

.

.

That kiss to his nose serves as the catalyst to the months that follow: Gojo becomes more comfortable touching you now, and though he blushes every single time, there’s nothing to be ashamed of because you do too. Shoko can’t believe the slow burn this is taking you both, having watched this on the sides since you were both 22, but you think you like it—like the slow drizzle of honey on Gojo’s favorite breakfast waffles. 

“How is it?” you ask, watching as Gojo takes a big bite. 

“D Beft.” he replies, mouth full as he chews. You take the seat beside him and take a spoonful. 

“There’s a secret ingredient.” you say mischievously, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He swallows before he scoffs, “What?” cutting up another piece, “Love?” 

You’re surprised because he says it so casually, and Gojo’s never talked about love, has never even mentioned the word since this shift in your relationship. He realizes a beat late by the expression on your face and gets flustered, thinking immediately of ways to brush past it. 

You had meant to say that you used that infused sugar he buys whenever he goes to Kyoto, but… you suppose love works too. He should know by now, right? 

“If it is?” you whisper, pretending to stir your coffee. 

Gojo doesn’t know how to approach this, really, but he’s come too far to back out now. He clears his throat, mentally running through what he wants to say, then, “Good. ‘Cause that’s what I put in your coffee too.” 

You laugh and the tension dissipates; there are hearts in your eyes for how hard Gojo has tried after denying himself of this for so long. 

He stares at you—at the laugh lines by your eyes and the soft curves of your lips, the moment moving much too slow, stop motion in his mind. He’s drawn in until you’re all too close, a few centimeters from your noses touching. 

Your laughter dies and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire; he’s so close you think he might kiss you. The signs are there—his eyes scaling your face to focus on your lips, his tongue peeping ever so slightly to wet his lips. 

So you wait. 

But he doesn’t, because he moves away after wiping his thumb on the side of your mouth. Even though you know there was nothing there. 

Gojo continues to eat, blabbering about a site visit he’s assigned to next week, but you don’t miss the way his ears are fully red and how he’s biting his lips to death.

.

The tension this time is different; instead of a growing rift, you can’t seem to be close enough. Every time you part ways, he lets go of your hand more reluctantly—as if he wants to say more, do more, but stops himself while he still can. 

When he leaves for missions, you kiss his cheek, pull him in by the hand and linger there, shyly. He gets embarrassingly red but tries to cover it up by telling you not to miss him too much (even though you know you will, and he knows he’ll miss you more). 

Your near-kisses with Gojo happen more frequently, and it comes to a point where he even manages to land one on your forehead, while you fall asleep next to him on his office couch. 

It’s driving you crazy, this tension—the mixed signals of it all. You try to kiss him a few times on the lips, but he evades them each time. You’ve caught Gojo staring at your lips more times than you can count; if that isn’t a sign, you don’t know what is. 

Now that Gojo thinks about it, he’s come so far yet the prospect of kissing you properly still scares him. What if he fucks up? Doesn’t do it right? What if it’s not how he wants you to be kissed? 

There’s that secret Gojo will never tell you, of how seeing that look on you has never gotten him more afraid. And he’s worked through that now, but it’s evolved into something else: how Gojo is now afraid of love, more than anything else, not because of loss but because he might not know how. 

And kissing you, loving you this way—he’s never done it before, doesn’t know how to make you feel love without his lips shaking and heart palpitating; how to do it while letting you know he feels the same. 

.

It happens during an assignment out of town. Curses aren’t as bad as they used to be, but they’re still stronger than what any of the available sorcerers right now can handle. 

You don’t remember the last time you saw Gojo use his technique that way—almost forgotten how powerful and ruthless he can be. Every time since, holding your hand, keeping you close—he’s just been your Satoru. 

Your apartment for the weekend is a two-bedroom unit with one bathroom and a decently sized living area and kitchenette; Gojo always chooses the room in front of the bathroom because he tends to wake up in the middle of the night to pee (information you know from your many other assignments with him before). Still, going as what you are now—it feels different. 

There’s a charged air between you as you move around the unit; you make your nightly tea while Gojo looks through the groceries for some crackers. It’s peaceful and quiet—domestic almost, but there are goosebumps on your skin for reasons you can’t explain. Being around Gojo lately has felt that way.

He brushes past you to throw the finished packet of crackers and the feeling intensifies; it’s not awkward, just tense, like anticipation sitting deep in your bellies, waiting on each other to make the first move. 

He announces that he’ll use the bathroom first, if you don’t mind, and you motion for him to go ahead. Your mind is fuzzy and having Gojo around seems to only make it worse.

When you walk past the bathroom and straight to your room, you hear Gojo humming that soft pop tune from a popular girl group on the radio earlier. You giggle, thinking it’s sweet—how he sings obnoxiously around everyone else but is admittedly pretty good when it’s just him, alone. 

You still have the rest of the weekend in this area, having agreed to monitor the site and any nearby locations for other suspicious activity, but at least the worst of it is over (maybe just to you though; Gojo hates paperwork). 

The sound of running water stops and you hear the bathroom door swing open. You don’t see Gojo when you exit your room but he leaves the door open to release any remaining steam.

There’s a reason why people say showers are good for the mind. You’re happy for those who’ve found it, but that couldn’t be you, because the only thought plaguing your head right now is Gojo—and whether you should greet him goodnight, if you should kiss his cheek or hug him tight. The tension between you now is palpable, an electric current waiting to zap on both ends. 

Your mind is so out of it that you don't realize you’re missing your skincare bag until after you finish brushing your teeth and dressing for bed. You open the bathroom door with the sole intention of going back to your room to get it, but instead, you’re met with a wall of chest.

Gojo’s eyes are wide, bright blue with damp strands of white falling like curtains barely shielding the sky. He’s just as surprised as you are, toothbrush in his hand as you hold up the towel wrapped around your head. 

You’ve seen Gojo in his pajamas many times before—white long sleeves with gray cotton pants, but your eyes trail to his collarbones and the way the bathroom lights cast it under a soft glow. The redness on his cheeks, a visual manifestation of the heat on yours. 

Gojo can’t stop staring at your lips, at how soft they look—at how soft you look fresh out of the shower. The little baby hairs sticking out under your towel are cute, and he leans in without knowing—a pull he can’t seem to resist. For once in his life, Gojo’s mind is still. 

You try to meet him halfway, tiptoeing, but you’re a little out of your element; you don’t know where to put your hands and your heart’s about to explode out of your chest. When your noses touch, you can’t breathe, closing your eyes while you wait for it. 

But it doesn’t come. 

You feel Gojo’s breath stilling before speeding up into little exhales. Something is wrong. You open your eyes and find him staring back at you, a version of Gojo you haven’t seen in a while—that you rarely see ever, except that day during your confrontation in his office. 

Concern laces your features and you move back a little, hands coming up to caress his cheeks. His eyes still look frantic, but they focus on you when you cup his face so gently. 

“Satoru,” you whisper, voice grounding. His breaths slow down a little. 

You realize that it must be true then, what they say, that those who love to be feared, fear to be loved, because you’ve never seen anyone afraid of something so good as Gojo is of this. 

“Satoru,” you repeat, massaging his temples with your thumb, “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

Gojo hates it, how you’ve always had to adjust for him. He hates that he can’t give you this one thing, hates that you’re still so patient, that he’s still so afraid. He swallows, closing his eyes tight before opening them again. 

“I want to,” he chokes out, “I just don’t know—”

You chuckle, without judgment, “I don’t either,” you lean forward, foreheads touching, “but do you want to try together?”

You learn that Gojo sees himself so differently from how you do—and maybe that’s everyone, but Gojo tends to say things while doing the other. He says he can’t bother with kids, but continues to take so many of them under his wing anyway; he calls your cereal concoction disgusting but tastes it regardless; and he says he can’t think about love, doesn’t know how, but proceeds to try so much harder, everyday. 

When you look at Gojo, you see a heart so big, so capable, that he can’t see it himself. 

You nudge his nose with yours and he breathes deeply, closing his eyes once again. If he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

Gojo hums before nodding his head slightly. His hands come up to cover yours, toothbrush wedged in the spaces between his fingers; they’re clammy, he’s sure, but he’s kept you waiting long enough. 

When you kiss Gojo for the first time, everything trembles—his pupils, his lips, the breath he takes. It’s all shaky and nervous, but your lips touch and all you know is that you like it there. He’s a little bit stiff but you don’t mind, pressing closer just for a little bit before pulling away. 

Gojo keeps your hands in place, half-lidded eyes staring at you lazily. His ears are fully red now but he’s giving you a look you’ve never seen before—like lightning crackling in the gaps between his eyelids. 

When you kiss Gojo for the first time, you don’t expect it to be by the bathroom door of a rented apartment, while away on a mission. You don’t expect it to be in your pajamas, towel wrapped around your hair as you’re getting ready for bed. You definitely don’t expect him to guide your hands down his neck while he places his on your lower back, squeezing lightly before pulling you in to kiss you again. 

This time, his lips move more pliantly, parting yours slightly; he tastes mint, mixed with the strawberry candy he had earlier and it’s nothing he could have ever imagined before, but is now everything he’s ever wanted. The push and pull between you is magnetic, soft lips and the intermingling of held breaths. All Gojo can think of now is to take, to devour—to keep you with him, like this, always. 

You wonder if Gojo is lying—that he’s never done this before, because you don’t think you can kiss anyone after this and not think of his lips on yours. 

By the time you part, the air is significantly warmer. Your fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck and you smile, sighing. Gojo looks warm, with his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. 

“That…” you trail off, nudging his nose. 

Gojo looks at you fondly; to ever even think he could have this now, with you—he doesn’t believe in any higher being but you must be his prayer come true. 

“We can practice a bit more, I think.” he pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips. 

You feel it against you, something solid and firm against your stomach and your eyes go wide at the realization; Gojo does the same. 

“Satoru, you–” he moves back and freezes, untangling himself from you completely. There’s a faint outline on the crotch of his pants and your whole face goes red. 

“Let me use the bathroom real quick.” he panics, rushing past you and closing the bathroom door. 

You stand there stunned for a good minute before you shake out of it, laughing. Gojo yells about how you’re being so mean, making fun of him when he’s like this, but you aren’t—not really. 

It’s been a long time getting to this point with Gojo, but considering all things, you think, this might just be the beginning.

thank you notes: i would also like to shoutout @stellamancer for leaving such lovely comments on dybil that it actually kinda pushed me to write this longer piece connected to it!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[myg-butterfly]

How Many Things

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi invites you out to a party with him, and in trust, you say yes. But what happens when you lose him in the crowd, just to find him again with someone else by his side? In the midst of panic and longing, you wonder how many things he thinks about before he gets to you.

Tags: Non-Idol AU, Anti-Social Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Anxiety, descriptions of panic attacks, Yoongi is an asshole for a minute, some of his friends are big time assholes, insecurities, social anxiety, lots of feelings, Teahyung and Namjoon are sweethearts, crying, jealousy, author's first fic lol.

A/N: HEY HELLO HI!!! This is my first fic that I'm publishing here so pls be gentle 🙏 And if you enjoy, leave feedback, good or bad, I love interactions. This is self-indulgent comfort that I've been thinking about for a long while and I was like ,,,,,, Yoongi got me 🥰🙏 Also this was slightly inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's "how many things" from her album EICS go listen if you want the extra angst. So yeah, enjoy!

main masterlist

You began to panic, the music was so, so loud, the clattering of dishes and glasses from the bar, the yelling, all the bodies and their humidity, it was all becoming too much, and to your dismay, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen.

You tried to recollect yourself as you began pushing through the crowd, determined on finding him. With every slip past a person, every step and stumble, you grew even more exhausted, but then finally, Yoongi came into view.

He was to the other end of the bar, a smile plastered in all his glory. Whoever he was talking to was clearly making him laugh, and just the sight of him made the tension in your shoulders ease a little bit. You were just about to call out to him, maybe even when fling yourself in his arms, but then-

Then you saw her. The one responsible for the way his face was currently scrunched with a happy grin. They stood close to each other, even as they turned the other way and moved to take a seat together at the bar. They were hand in hand, they looked like the human embodiment of perfection.

You felt your heart deflate as Yoongi pulled out a chair for her, proceeding to signal something to the bartender, the peace sign on his fingers and the pointing between him and her gave you the idea he asked for a drink for both of them. They continued to laugh and talk, and you had to force yourself to look away.

The sight of them made you remember why you hated going out, but even worse, you remembered why you vowed to not get romantically attached to anyone, especially not Yoongi.

The turning of your stomach was becoming hard to ignore, your quick breaths making matters worse. You knew you had to get out of there; with or without Yoongi. So with one last glance at him -who was still engrossed deeply in conversation with the woman next to him, leaning to whisper something in her ear and her reacting in a flustered manner- you fought your way to the door, tears beginning to spill the moment the night breeze greeted you.

As much as you wanted to just run and run and run until your body gave out on you, you knew better than to try and make it back to the dorms by foot.

You sighed defeatedly and pulled out your phone, texting the one person who you knew would be here without fail. As much as you didn't like bothering him (even though he's told you countless times you're not) you knew he'd scold you if you walked home on your own, and a scolding from him was never an enjoyable experience.

Y/N: are you busy rn?

Namjoon: Not currently. Why?

Y/N: can u pls come pick me up

Namjoon: Where are you? Are you safe?

Y/N: yeah, here's my location *📍*

Namjoon: I'll be there in less than 10. Stay put, okay?

Y/N: ok. ty joon.

Putting your phone away, you sat at the nearest bench you found, and attempted to stop the tears from falling further before Namjoon arrived.

But no matter how hard you tried, it was pretty much impossible to not think about why you were out here in the first place. Were you overreacting? Yoongi's allowed to have friends. So why are you so hurt? It's not even like you're together or anything.

In all honesty, you wanted to be mad at them.

You wanted to be mad at him for giving you even the slightest hope that there might be something more between you two.

You wanted to be mad at that girl he was with for being so damn perfect for him, for being everything that you could never begin to come close to.

But deep down you didn't have it in you to be angry at anyone but yourself.

How could you have been so stupid?

You knew that no one would want you romantically, you knew that all he felt for you was pity, that you'd never come first, and yet you still got your hopes up.

You let yourself dream that he wanted you like you wanted him. You believed all those things he said out of pity, all the reassurances and compliments, you knew that they were nothing but him simply being who he is; a naturally kind person.

You knew all of this, so why the hell were you crying? Why were you walking out and aimlessly trying to find anywhere else to go?

'Pathetic' you scoffed at yourself. You were being immature, everything everyone else had said about you was true. You were stupid to think otherwise.

Before you could continue to wallow in your self-pity, you felt a small tap to your shoulder, and you looked up to find Namjoon looking down at you.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" You quickly wiped away your remaining tears and nodded your head, standing up to greet him. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Thank you for coming Namjoon." You bowed slightly, trying your best to look well put together. "It's no problem dear. My car's this way, come on."

"You want me to drive you back to your apartment?" You both got in his car and he asked as you put on your seatbelts. "Yes, please. Thank you." He only hummed in response as he began to drive, a soft tune playing on the radio, just loud enough to make it less awkward.

Namjoon knew you probably weren't in the mood to talk, and you were grateful for the silent understanding you guys shared. You weren't awfully close, but you'd shared your own personal memories with each other, and you mutually knew the other would be willing to lend a hand when needed. That's what you liked about him. He was just understanding like that.

The drive to your apartment was short, and even though you lived on the 3rd floor, Namjoon insisted on walking you to your door.

"Hey, take care okay? If you need anything else don't hesitate to call me, yeah?" He said as you reached your door, the genuine look on his face made you tear up once more.

"Yeah. Thank you, Joon." You waved him off as you stepped into your apartment, closing the door as he began to turn around.

You immediately kicked off your heels and went to grab a glass of water. You chugged it down as if you hadn't had a drop of water in days, proceeding to open your fridge and let the waterworks begin as you realized your appetite was gone just seeing the carton of orange juice sitting there with a sticky note that reads, "YOONGI'S!!! DO NOT DRINK >:("

He'd helped you with your groceries about 2 weeks ago, and the orange juice he bought was claimed by him, protesting that he needed "emergency juice" because he was at your apartment so often.

Not wanting to look at his skrunkly handwriting anymore, you shut the fridge door and rested your head in your hands on the kitchen counter.

The more you thought about it, the more prominent the ache in your chest became. He was the one who invited you to that party in the first place. He was the one who wanted you to have fun. He was the one that promised he wouldn't leave your side. Yet here you were, back at the dorms, hugging yourself in attempts to conceal your heartbreak.

If you had gone on your own and just happened to see him there with another girl, then that would have been a different story.

But no.

Yoongi himself told you two nights ago that he was invited to a party, and he wanted you to accompany him as his plus one. And as nervous and hesitant as you were, he spurred you on, encouraging; "No matter what you wear you'll look stunning." And "Everyone will love you" and "I won't leave your side, okay?"

That one stung the most when you thought about it, because not even 15 minutes into the party, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. You could tell that most of his friends weren't too fond of you, and you felt ridiculous in the pink dress you wore.

You thought of how you'd taken hours to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and not cry at your appearance made you cringe. You tried so hard to look nice, to feel pretty, to feel wanted, and it still didn't work.

You grew angrier, why weren't you good enough? What made it so hard to love you? You practically ripped off your dress, the fabric suddenly piercing your skin, your arms wiping off your already smearing makeup furiously, and you stomped to your bed, plopping down violently before letting out a strangled groan that sounded more like a whimper.

You felt like shit. Your whole night was shit.

Were you overreacting? You had been rude too. I mean, you left without even telling him. You're just as bad, right?

He's the one who left you standing there, Y/N. Your brain going back and forth until you decided that falling asleep would be easier.

"Sooo how'd it go with lover boy last night? Assuming things went well from what I saw." An overly excited Taehyung appeared at your side, a smug grin on his face as he poked your arms. You just shrugged your shoulders as a response, the mere mention of the previous night was enough to deflate your already souring mood.

"Don't give me that look, Y/N! I know you and Yoongi got it on last night!" Taehyung flailed his arms accusingly, as if waddling around would make his statements true. "We didn't get it on, Taehyung. Literally nothing happened. Nothing." You tried to remain calm as you spoke, but your patience was running thin.

"Oh come on Y/N. Yoongi was absolutely plastered this morning and you're gonna try to tell me nothing happened?" He kept on going as he shook your shoulders, and it took everything in you to not slap his hands away.

"Did he get home safe last night?" Your brows furrowed in slight worry at the mention of Yoongi being wasted, and no matter how hurt you were, you had to know if he was okay.

"Uh, yeah. Were you drunk too? I thought you guys left together. Do you not remember?" The lump in your throat was becoming harder to swallow down as Taehyung spoke. You had to be strong. You were not gonna cry over this to your poor friend who's excited.

"You know I don't drink. And, no we didn't leave together. I asked Namjoon to take me home." You hoped he'd stop asking questions, but much to your dismay- "You left with Namjoon?!?! Does Yoongi know?!?!? Did anything happen with him!?" At this point you were on the brink of tears, you hated talking about this.

"Taehyung, please let it go. I just wanted to know if Yoongi got home safely. Can we please just drop it?" Taehyung caught onto your pleading tone and the hurt look in your eyes, and he nodded with his softened expression.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to pry." He spoke cautiously. "It's okay Tae."

He shot you another worried look before returning to walking in silence beside you once again.

The rest of the day went painfully slow, your mind too exhausted to deal with walking from one side of campus to the other, and much less to pay attention to what your professors were saying.

Expectedly, you collapsed onto your bed the moment you went back to your dorm. You were gladly going to continue feeling sorry for yourself, but the ringing of your doorbell rudely interrupted you.

You groaned, hoping they'd just go away, but after a few seconds another ring came. You [grumpily] got up, running your hands through your hair in attempt to look somewhat presentable.

As you made your way to the door, you wondered who could be at your apartment, especially now that it was beginning to get late, the sun going down quickly outside.

You hesitantly opened the door, immediately wishing you would've just continued to ignore whoever was at the door once you saw who was standing in front of you.

"Hi, I brought dinner." There Yoongi stood with a soft smile on his face, lifting a brown bag in reference to dinner.

You stood stunned, wanting to say something, but your mind went blank.

"Y/N? You there?" He playfully waved his hands around trying to get your attention.

"Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry. Just didn't expect you to come by."

"Oh, sorry if I startled you. I texted you but you didn't respond, and you didn't answer last night when I called, so I wanted to come check if you were okay." He shuffled from foot to foot, worry evident in his eyes.

"Oh, just haven't been on my phone lately." You looked down, feeling unsure on how to talk to him without showing him your hurt.

"Oh alright. So, we heading in for dinner?" The smile returned to Yoongi's face, and no matter how hurt you were, you still found it hard to say no to him.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Of course."

You opened the door a little further and stepped aside to let him in.

On a normal occasion, dinner with Yoongi would've been the highlight of your day. But now, it was filled with awkward silence and poor attempts at small talk — Yoongi hates small talk as much as you, so you don't know why he's still trying — the tension in the air was hardly going unnoticed.

It wasn't until you finished eating that he decided to just rip the bandage off.

"Are you angry with me?" Yoongi asked, and you almost questioned if he was being serious or not, but the expression he held made you realize that he was in fact clueless about the hurt he put you through.

You weren't sure what to say, so you stayed silent. I mean, it's not like you were angry at him. But you also weren't too happy with him either. Yoongi felt his heart drop as your gaze dropped his own, denying him from an answer.

"Y/N? Did I do something?" He asks from across the table where he's sitting.

For some reason hearing those words from him made the tears you've been holding back so well spill over.

Did he really have no idea? Were you genuinely overreacting? Did you just make everything up in your head?

"Do you really not know?" You tried to push your voice out firmly, but it came out in a broken whisper. You wanted to look at Yoongi, you wanted to see if his face washed over with realization, but your eyes stayed glued to the floor.

"Is this about me getting drunk at that party? I thought you said you didn't mind if I had alcohol." His wording sounded harsher than he intended, but with your already weakened state, you had to hold back from full on sobbing right there in front of him.

"This is about you leaving me by myself in the middle of the party when you promised you wouldn't leave my side!" Your frustration began to take over, did he really not see it? He's supposed to know you better than anyone else.

"Leaving you by yourself? Last thing I heard, you had found yourself a new companion for the night." Yoongi scoffed, his mood souring when he recalls finding out that apparently you'd left with some other guy.

The drinks he'd had were enough to make the night slightly blurry and to make him work a little harder to recall the night's events, but unfortunately, they weren't enough to make him forget how someone had stole you away from him.

"Where did you hear that?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt you were currently feeling.

"My friends" He responded, as if that was supposed to change what you had said.

"Your friends ... the ones you introduced me to?"

"Yeah"

"Your friends really don't seem to like me." You muttered, but Yoongi somehow caught the soft mumbling.

"What do you mean? To me it looked like they were all happy to meet you." His tone remained cold, and you felt more tears forming quickly.

"Well, you weren't there with me when they all laughed at me because I'd lost you in the crowd." You tried to defend yourself.

"They're not like that, I know they aren't."

"You wouldn't know how they acted towards me because you left me alone." You continued on, his face morphing into one resembling more of guilt.

"He left you already? Didn't even last half an hour."

"They haven't even had 1 drink tonight, no wonder Yoongi ran away so fast. Prude."

You winced while recalling how they'd laughed at you when you tried asking for Yoongi, passing it off as a joke when you'd gotten visibly upset.

You softened your tone, sadness catching up with you and replacing your frustration.

"It hurt, Yoongi. You know me better than anyone. You're supposed to know me better than anyone. You know how much I hate parties and bars, how I hate talking to people I don't know, how I don't do things alone. Ever. And you know that if I made you promise to not leave my side it's because I'm not ever planning to leave yours either. Do you know how bad it hurt to be panicking only to turn around and see you having the time of your life? Especially with someone else, when you promised me that night was for you and I only? It hurt, so damn bad."

Yoongi's heart dropped at your words, had it really been that bad for you? How did he not notice?

"I didn't leave with anyone yesterday, Namjoon brought me back to my apartment and left the moment I walked inside that door. You're the one that left with someone else last night, and it wasn't me."

A thick moment of silence engulfs you, and you begin to wait for a snap, or some sort of outburst from Yoongi, but all that comes is—

"Y/N... I- Shit. That's not-" You looked up hesitantly at the sound of Yoongi fumbling his words. He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief before slowly moving closer and crouching down in front of you. "I'm so sorry Y/N. I swear didn't mean to leave you. I went to go get the drinks, I did. And then when I couldn't find you I went and asked my friends if they had seen you, and they said that you'd gone off dancing with some guy, and so I went to go look for you and I ran into a classmate, which is the girl you saw me with. And I thought, since Y/N's off with someone else, it wouldn't hurt to have a drink with a girl from my class. I wouldn't have left you if I knew that you were by yourself. I'm so sorry."

Yoongi's gaze dropped to the floor as he finished, ashamed for being the root of your tears.

"I should've known better, I- I was just so opposed to seeing you happy with someone else that I immediately rejected the idea of looking for you to avoid the possibility of someone else making your night special. And I know that's not really a valid excuse, not looking for you because I was jealous- of something that wasn't even fucking happening- it isn't fair to you whatsoever. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I truly am." He takes your hands in his and takes a moment to recollect his next words.

"What can I do to make it up to you? Even if it's just the smallest fraction, I want to show you how sorry I am. Anything you want. Please." You paused for a moment, even though your conscience immediately knew what you wanted.

Hold me. Please. Hold me. Nudge your head with mine, lock our pinkies, put your leg against mine, anything. Please, hold me.

With your brain screaming mantras of 'I need to be held', you reached out for him for a second, before your body jerked to a stop.

No. I need him to hold me. I need him to reach out. He needs to initiate- please-

Yoongi's quick to notice your body language, and equally quick to react. "Do you want to be held, sweetheart?" You swear you felt yourself physically start to glow at the sound of him uttering the words you've been dying to hear for god knows how long.

You nod your head and you're so delighted by the aspect of someone- well, not just someone, but Yoongi- comforting you, that you don't even notice the soft whimper that leaves you as he scoots closer to you.

"Words, darling." He says softly, and your body automatically responds with soft chants of "Yes, please, yes Yoongi."

You don't even notice how tears begin to fall against your cheeks again when you feel Yoongi's hands wiping them away.

"C'mere, I've got you baby. Let's go to bed, yeah?" He grabs your legs and wraps them around his torso, before he holds you against him tightly and begins to stand up with you in his arms.

You feel yourself melting at the pet names he's giving you, glad that he's carrying you because you're sure your legs would've given out on you at this point.

You continue turning to mush when you feel how gently Yoongi sets you down once you reach your bed, how he squeezes your hand and asks for permission to lay with you with his eyes, how he reaches for you under the covers and cradles you close, fingers running through your hair softly.

The bliss is only momentarily, broken when your mouth moves faster than your brain;

"Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"Why did it upset you when you thought I was at the club with someone else?" Your question comes out as a whisper, scared for his response.

"Y/N." He pulls back a little to see your face.

"Yoongi." You reply mocking his tone.

"Are you really gonna make me spell it out for you?" He's secretly glad that it's dark in your room, otherwise you'd be able to see the blush coating his cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" You ask, and his only response is a huff while pulling your head back into his chest.

"Yoooongiiii" Your whine comes out muffled by his shirt.

"Y/nnnnnn" It's now Yoongi's turn to mock your tone.

"Answer the questionnnn"

You feel the vibrations of his chest as he mumbles something into your hair, and you would've lost it on the spot if you weren't so focused on getting an answer out of him.

"Yoongi I can't understand you when you're mumbling like a child." You chuckle slightly, not wanting to dwell on how you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you before he mumbles once again, only this time louder.

"I don't understand you for shit." At this, Yoongi lets go of you and sits up with a sigh, looking at you for a second before securing his gaze on his hands. You follow suit and sit up as well, only slightly behind him.

"I like you. I've liked you. For a really long while." His voice is so soft and it sounds so timid, you almost think you're imagining it.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Wait- that's not a good way to respond to that. Uhhh- wait." You quickly shift so you're facing him fully.

"Do you mean like as in 'you're a homie' or like as in 'you're not just the homie you're THE homie'? Because before I say anything you would have to clari-"

"Do you think I do this with all my friends?" He cuts off your nervous ramble, grabbing both of your shaky hands with his equally shaken ones.

"What specifically?"

"All of it."

"Wha-"

"The sharing food? The holding hands and carrying you and bringing dinner over and inviting them everywhere with me? The cuddling and the 'baby' and 'doll'? You know how I am about my personal space, and you know how I am about my sleep, and you know how I am about affection. Do you think I do that with just anyone?"

"Well- I don't know, I mean- I don't know what your other friendsh-"

"I don't. You're the only one that gets to see me like this. You're the only one I treat like this. You're the only one I want to treat like this. I like you. And I want to be with you. And that's why I was upset. Because when I thought you were with someone else, it made me feel as if you didn't want the same thing as me."

Before you got the chance to even begin to process, Yoongi catches himself and feels the need to justify: "Obviously if you don't feel the same then I won't like, lash out at you or anything, it'll hurt but I don't want you to feel forced into something more with me than what we have now, it's just you asked me why I was upset and that was the only way I could explain it but I-"

"Yoongi." He's stopped by a soft tug to his shirt and the even softer sound of your voice.

You catch each other's eyes, the flickers of hope and longing between them, and the search of honesty.

"I feel the same."

A sigh leaves his lips and he breaks into a smile before picking you up in one motion and setting you on his lap so you're straddling him.

"Does this mean we're like, um- like,,,,"

"Like...?" His tone is teasing, and you know he knows what you mean.

"Like, y'know- like..."

"I actually don't know...."

"Yoongi." You huff out, your shyness getting the best of you.

"Yes?" His tone is smug, making you groan into his chest.

Working off of pure adrenaline, you mumble quietly: "Like, together."

"What was that doll?" You could practically hear the smirk on his face, making you try and shuffle away from him, but Yoongi's quicker, pulling you back into him with a giggle.

"If you're asking if we're officially dating, then don't even question it baby." He's still laughing, but his tone is firmer this time.

"So I'm taking that as a yes?"

"Fuck yes."

You burst out laughing at his response, and soon enough you've both fallen into a fit of giggles, as well as back into the bed, with you on top of Yoongi, before he flips you over so he's hovering over you.

"Y/N."

"Yoongi?"

"Can I kiss you?"

End.