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saintobio · 1 year ago

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sincerely yours. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head.

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result.

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.”

9:26 AM.

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?”

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.”

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.”

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.”

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal.

9:47 AM.

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.”

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up.

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.”

9:54 AM.

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?”

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.”

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?”

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.”

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.”

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.”

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.”

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses.

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other.

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.”

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.”

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.”

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her.

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?”

“Y-Yeah…”

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?”

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?”

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.”

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all.

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?”

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…”

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you.

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way.

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived.

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.”

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.”

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this?

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter.

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.”

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic.

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest.

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why.

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it.

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out.

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.”

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.”

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to.

“Toru?”

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?”

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.”

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro.

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife.

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never.

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.”

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?”

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?”

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did.

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her.

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her.

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship.

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her?

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have.

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria.

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him.

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?”

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?”

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.”

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.”

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly.

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him.

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her?

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb.

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own.

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride.

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.”

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.”

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.”

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.”

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.”

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?”

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.”

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?”

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.”

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?”

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.”

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.”

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.”

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies. “Good night, ‘Toru.”

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had.

So, in that sense, you should be happy.

You had to be happy.

You were happy, right?

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?”

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.”

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’.

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.”

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.”

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice.

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.”

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you?

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one.

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you.

“Toji, I’m sorry…”

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?”

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.”

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters.

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it.

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.”

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.”

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.”

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.”

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.”

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?”

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with?

You didn’t want to know.

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too.

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?”

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess.

It was crazy.

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race.

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan.

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind.

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.”

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?”

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him.

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention.

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.”

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—”

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.”

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old.

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it.

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.”

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.”

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous.

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up.

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.”

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter.

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.”

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?”

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now.

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim?

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city?

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater?

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person.

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you.

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool.

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.”

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you.

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.”

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.”

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“Says who?”

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person?

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.”

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.”

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.”

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you.

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?”

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person.

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?”

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…”

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand.

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.”

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…”

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes.

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.”

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true.

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply.

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.”

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have?

“Good.”

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life.

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid.

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another.

Good for him.

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.”

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that.

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship.

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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23victoria · 3 months ago

Text

"Mmm, it's something 'bout that feelin' you give me"

pairings: f1 grid x you

word count: 500

authors note: anon thank you so much for the request!! first time writing a blurb! hope it’s okay! wasn’t to detailed but hopefully you guys like it!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

❥ He can’t help but talk about you to his friends, constantly sharing stories of your sweet moments and how much he adores you.

❥ Spontaneous dates are his specialty; whether it’s a surprise dinner at a fancy restaurant or a sudden getaway to a cozy cabin, he loves keeping you on your toes.

❥ He has a habit of checking your online shopping cart and buying everything in it, often adding extra surprises he knows you’ll love.

❥ Every week, a beautiful bouquet of flowers arrives at your doorstep, each one more extravagant than the last, accompanied by a heartfelt note.

❥ One of his love languages is all about acts of service and gift-giving; he constantly finds ways to make your life easier and more joyful.

❥ Surprise trips are a regular occurrence; one weekend you might be lounging on a tropical beach, the next exploring the streets of Paris.

❥ He showers you with thoughtful gifts, from custom-made jewelry to designer handbags, rings, necklaces and more.

❥ On your computer, he secretly looks at your wish list and makes sure you never have to wait for anything you want, adding items he knows will make you smile.

❥ He loves planning elaborate surprises, like a private dinner on a yacht with a live band or a day at the spa just for the two of you.

❥ Little acts of love fill your days, like finding your favorite snacks in the pantry or discovering a new book he picked out just for you.

❥ He arranges fun adventures, like a spontaneous road trip or a day spent at a theme park, always making sure you’re having the time of your life.

❥ You never know what surprise awaits you next; it could be tickets to a concert, a new piece of technology, phone, computer, or even a hand-written love letter hidden in your purse.

❥ He’s always thinking ahead, planning your next vacation or weekend getaway, ensuring you both have something exciting to look forward to.

❥ Acts of service are his way of showing love; from preparing your favorite meals to handling errands you dislike, he’s always finding ways to make your life easier.

❥ Spontaneous dates are a regular part of your life; whether it’s a quick trip to a new city or a romantic evening under the stars, he loves surprising you.

❥ He loves making memories with you, and every moment is filled with laughter, joy, and the warmth of his unwavering affection.

•☆.°. taglist .•☆.° : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @demyackerman @oledoledoffen @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206 @revolutionsingingintherain

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vanteguccir · 3 months ago

Note

chris w a marvel nerd gf

── ୨୧ !　HEADCANON;

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Where you're Chris's girlfriend and obsessed with Marvel <3

──　Chris first noticed your Marvel obsession when you casually dropped a deep-cut reference during a conversation. You were talking about something unrelated in a friend's hangout, and suddenly, you quoted Tony Stark with a mischievous smile. Chris’s quickly recognized it from one of those Marvel edits that show up on his TikTok from time to time. From that moment, he knew you were special.

──　Chris loves planning dates around your Marvel obsession. He surprises you with movie marathons at home, where he’s bought your favorite snacks and even ordered limited-edition Marvel-themed blankets and pillows to make it feel like a cozy theater experience. Sometimes, he’ll even dress up in a Marvel-themed t-shirt - that you made him buy - just to see your face light up when you notice.

──　Knowing how much you love the MCU, Chris often surprises you with rare or vintage Marvel comics. He’ll visit specialty comic book stores or browse online for hours to find issues that feature your favorite characters. He loves watching your reaction as you open the gift, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you carefully flip through the pages.

──　You’re constantly discussing Marvel theories with Chris, sometimes late into the night. Whether it’s speculating on future MCU plot twists or debating the morality of certain characters, Chris loves listening to your passionate insights. Even if he doesn’t always have the same level of knowledge, he’s deeply engaged and loves hearing your perspective. He often jokes about how you should have your own Marvel theory YouTube channel.

──　When a new Marvel movie is about to be released, Chris makes it an event. He’ll buy tickets for the earliest showing possible and might even suggest wearing matching Marvel-themed outfits. On the day of the release, he’ll clear his schedule and refuse to film any new video, knowing how much it means to you to be among the first to experience the film. Your excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting just as pumped up as you.

──　Your place is filled with Marvel collectibles; action figures, posters, Funko Pops, and more. Chris always finds a way to add to your collection, whether it’s a rare figure he stumbled upon or a custom-made piece featuring your favorite characters. Sometimes, he even helps you rearrange your display shelves to make room for new additions, joking about how you might need an extra room soon. When it comes to the limit of not having any more free space on your house, he brings the new ones he bought to his own house and puts it on his room.

──　If you’re into cosplay, Chris is your biggest fan and supporter. He’ll help you gather materials, give you feedback on your designs, and even assist with makeup and costume details. When you’re at a convention, he’s right by your side, taking pictures of you in character and proudly posting them on social media with captions like, "Look at my superhero!". He’s also the type to hype you up in front of others, making sure everyone knows how much effort and passion you put into your cosplay.

──　Watching Marvel movies together is a regular activity in your relationship. Even if you’ve both seen them countless times, it never gets old. Chris loves seeing how you react to your favorite scenes, and he always smiles when you recite lines word for word. He’s learned which moments in the movies are your favorites, and sometimes he’ll nudge you playfully just before they happen, sharing a knowing look.

──　When you’re out shopping together and you spot Marvel merch, Chris encourages you to indulge. Whether it’s a new t-shirt, a limited-edition figure, or even Marvel-themed kitchenware, he’s always happy to see you so excited. He’ll often sneak items into the cart when you’re not looking, only to surprise you when you get home.

──　Because of his fame and how media knows Chris has an obsessed Marvel girlfriend, he often receives invites for you both to attend Marvel movie premieres together. In there, Chris loves watching you take it all in; the energy of the crowd, the excitement in the air, and your wide-eyed awe at seeing your favorite characters on the big screen. He’s always by your side, holding your hand, and whispering little comments in your ear during the movie, making the experience even more special.

──　Whenever there’s Marvel news - whether it’s a new movie announcement, a casting update, or a trailer drop - Chris is the first to send it your way. He loves seeing your reaction, especially when you get excited about something new. Sometimes, he’ll wait until you’re together to show you, just so he can see your face light up in person.

──　Chris fully supports your Marvel obsession and never makes you feel like it’s silly or too much. He loves that you’re so passionate about something and appreciates how it brings out your playful and enthusiastic side. Sometimes, when you’re having a tough day, he’ll put on your favorite Marvel movie or bring you a new comic to cheer you up, knowing it’s an instant mood booster.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A/N: I totally mirrored myself on this one, I've been a Marvel obsessed girl since I was born, and Marvel is definitely part of my everyday life 😭🥺🩷

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siancore · 4 months ago

Text

SamBucky | M | 2.1K | AO3

A/N: Written for the @sambuckylibrary SamBucky Summer Bingo 2024 Loving Card. Square Fill: Free Space.

Just my take on why we suddenly saw Bucky wearing the bright blue Henley when he visited Sam in Louisiana.

Content: Getting Together; Flirting; Crushes; Canon Universe

One of the best things about the 21st century was online shopping. Bucky loved it. He could get what he needed delivered to his door and not have to worry about venturing out into the crowds and being noticed.

Shopping for clothing had been a breeze online. He could just go back and order the same outfits that were in his order history, and he was set; good to go. Plain ensembles that were good all year round. His leather jacket was the most expensive piece of attire he owned. It was reliable. Comfortable. It was his signature look. Didn’t need much else.

Though, in saying that, he supposed he might get a couple of new outfits, since he was going to drop the new outfit off to Sam in Louisiana. Didn’t want to give Sam the opportunity to point out that Bucky hadn’t changed his outfits, yet he wanted Sam to embrace his gift. Sam could be quite contrary at times. Bucky wanted the gift giving to go as smoothly as possible.

He had a plan, after all: Hand the new Captain America suit over, spend some time with Sam where they’re not dodging bullets, and maybe turn on that 1940s charm that he was so famous for. If nothing eventuated from it, then he was just glad to have Sam as a co-worker and friend.

Bucky sat at his laptop and looked through the garments on this website he liked. He added a few new items to his cart, removed them, then added them once more. While he was arguing with himself about how he used to wear button down shirts his whole life, a notification box popped up in the corner of his screen denoting an incoming call. Bucky sighed and then answered.

“Ayo?”

“Guess again,” came the voice on the other end.

“Aneka, what’re you doing?”

“Hello to you, too,” she replied.

“Sorry,” Bucky amended. “Hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you James.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked. “Does your girlfriend know you’re using her personal secure line to bother me?”

There was a sound of jest to his voice that made Aneka smile.

“Of course,” she replied. “There are no secrets between my beloved and I. As for you and your beloved –”

“I don’t have a beloved,” Bucky insisted, knowing exactly where the conversation was headed.

“Oh, I think that very lovely gift you had my beloved organize for you begs to differ.”

Bucky rans his face over his hand and said, “Ayo told you about the suit?”

“She didn’t have to,” Aneka replied. “I was in the Design Suites testing my prototype for these new blades I’m hoping to incorporate in the field when I saw your gift.”

“General Okoye isn’t gonna let you take anything but your spear into the field and you know that,” Bucky supplied.

“Hush your mouth,” said Aneka. “Anyway, like I was saying, I saw your gift while I was there. Very thoughtful, James. Captain Wilson is going to love it.”

“How do you know it’s for Sam?”

“Firstly, he is your beloved.”

“Aneka.”

“Secondly, that awful, awful color scheme has to be for an Avenger – has to be for Captain America.”

“Is it really that awful?”

“Yes,” said Aneka with a laugh as Bucky groaned. “But, it’s the thought that counts. What did he say when he received it?”

“I haven’t delivered it to him yet.”

“Oh, that is good, James. Good thinking. Hand deliver the gift to Captain Wilson, get him to try it on and do a little twirl for you, and then charm him. Right out of those red, white, and blue pants.”

“Aneka.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“James, what is it?”

Bucky took a deep breath and then said, “I kinda want this to go well. Sam deserves nothing but the best, and while I’m so far from bein’ good enough for him –”

“I rebuke that in Bast’s glorious name,” Aneka supplied, affronted. “You are good enough. Captain Wilson would be lucky to have you.”

Bucky said nothing for a moment but smiled at his friend’s words. Then he spoke up, nervous but honest.

“So, are you gonna help me?”

“Of course,” said Aneka. “Now, what are you going to wear?”

…..

“The blue really brings your eyes out,” Aneka had said to Bucky, and he listened.

He kept the blue Henley packed away in his bag. Decided against wearing it when he arrived to deliver his gift to Sam. Though it was not in Sam to be rude or an outright asshole, there was the small possibility that Sam would tell him to fuck off and take the goddamn Captain America suit with him. Bucky was really going out on a limb, just as he had been asking Ayo for help after what he had done. But love, it seemed, made you do crazy things.

Love? Right, yes. Love. For a co-worker slash friend. They were friends and Bucky could admit he cared for – hell, that he loved Sam Wilson. Who didn’t, right? At any rate, it was all going well. He showed up and showed his willingness to help. Showed Sam that he cared about what Sam did and his life outside of the Avengers – outside of being Captain America. Sam had accepted the gift, while he did not open it, he knew what it was. Let it sit on the docks while they worked on the boat. Kept a curious gaze flitting towards it every once in a while.

When Bucky had mentioned getting a hotel for the night, Sam had reassured him that he could stay in Delacroix. Assured him that the people there were welcoming and friendly. Assured him that they did not care if he wore his shirts too small.

Ha. Sam noticed what Bucky was wearing. Aneka was a genius. Bucky was glad he had saved the blue Henley for later.

…

There was something ethereal about working away in the early morning with Sam on the boat. The sounds of the water and wildlife; the calm morning sky; Sam humming some unfamiliar song while he worked. Bucky could get used to that. He could easily and happily settle into that life in that place. It was no wonder that Sam worked and fought so hard. The place and people in his life were special. Bucky could see that. Bucky longed to have something like that for himself.

After Sarah had relieved them of their duties, Sam took Bucky around. It was a very small town. There was not a lot to see from a tourist’s perspective, yet Bucky didn’t feel like a tourist, like a visitor. Maybe it was Sam that made him feel like he belonged. Maybe wherever he was in the world would always feel that way if he was by Sam’s side.

They found their way back to the Wilson residence. Bucky helped Sam set up a training area outside. They tossed the shield around and talked. There was so much that Bucky wanted to say to Sam. So much he needed to say. But he listened. He listened to Sam when he spoke about how the history of the shield was complicated, especially for Sam as a Black man in America. How what had happened to Isaiah Bradley was abhorrent. How there were people, Sam’s own people included, who would be against him carrying the shield and taking up the mantle. Bucky listened, really listened. He listened until Sam had said everything he needed to say.

“I owe you an apology,” Bucky said then. “There was no way Steve, or I could’ve even imagined what it would be like for you. Thing is, we didn’t even consider it. He said you were a good man. He said you’re the only person he could see taking up the shield. And I believed him because I trusted his word before I got to know you. And he was right. You are a good man. The best man for the job. But I got caught up in my own feelings of – of loneliness and I projected a whole lotta stuff onto you when I had no right to do that. I learned how to live in this day and age, I could’ve taken a little time to learn about how the world treats you and your people. I am so deeply sorry, Sam. Sorry for making all of this harder on you than you needed. Sorry for dismissing your feelings. Sorry for barging into your life because I was angry and upset and spiralling in my own way. None of that was fair on you. I’m so sorry.”

Sam looked at Bucky through those pretty lashes and gave him a small, soft smile.

“Thank you,” said Sam quietly. “I appreciate that.”

The sincerity and peace in Sam’s eyes caused something to clench inside of Bucky’s chest. There was vulnerability there that Sam hardly let the world see. They spoke for a while longer while continuing to toss the shield around. Sam seemed lighter and it looked so good on him. Happiness looked good on him. He was soft and jovial and even a little flirty. It made Bucky feel like he was floating.

When there was a lull in their conversation, Sam took a moment to drag his gaze over Bucky’s form.

“What?” asked Bucky, with half a smile playing on his features.

Sam placed his hands on his hips, tilted his head, and gave Bucky an appraising look.

“So, this is new, uh?” asked Sam.

“What’s that?” asked Bucky, feeling warm under Sam’s stare.

“This color on you,” Sam explained. “Gotten so used to seeing you in black. It’s a nice change.”

Bucky could feel the blush spread across his face as he said, “Thanks.”

“That blue, it ah – it really brings your eyes out,” Sam offered, somewhat coyly, which was new. “It’s nice. You look – nice.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He was almost stunned to have all of Sam’s attention levelled at him like that. To have Sam being shy with him. To have Sam compliment him.

“Well, you always look nice,” he ended up blurting out. “Doesn’t matter what you wear. You always look great. So handsome. Christ, pretty, even. You’re just – gorgeous. Shit. Sorry.”

Sam let out an amused little laugh as he dipped his head and looked up at Bucky.

“I think you’ve apologized enough for one day,” said Sam, stepping closer. “For the record, I think you’re pretty, too.”

“Really?” asked Bucky, a blush completely covering his face and neck. “You think I am pretty?”

“Yes,” said Sam, inching closer.

“It’s just the new shirt,” said Bucky, trying to regain his composure and going for flirty; he moved closer to Sam. “Trick of the light and all this blue.”

Sam laughed once more, “I don’t know about all that. Maybe we should get you out of that shirt and test that theory?”

Bucky almost choked on air right then and there, but recovered quickly as he said, “Really?”

Sam took hold of Bucky’s hand, and said, “Yeah, if that’s somethin’ you’d want to do – with me.”

A hint of that coyness on Sam’s part came back and Bucky found it wholly charming and endearing,

Bucky brought Sam’s hand to his chest and said, “Happy to oblige you, Cap. Whatever you want or need, just let me know.”

“How about a kiss?” asked Sam.

“With pleasure,” Bucky replied as he cupped Sam’s face and then pressed a passionate kiss to his lips.

…

Later in the evening, after the pair had made love for the third or fourth time – Bucky couldn’t keep count as he was delirious with happiness – Sam needed to leave the bedroom and get something to drink. He searched their discarded clothing looking for something to put on and found Bucky’s blue Henley. Bucky reclined on the too-small bed and watched Sam pull his shirt on. Something swelled inside of Bucky as he smiled up at Sam clad in his shirt.

“That color looks good on you,” said Bucky as he dragged his gaze over Sam’s body for the hundredth time that night.

Sam beamed brightly at him, smoothed his hand over his chest, and said, “Yeah, I might keep it.”

“It’s yours if you want it,” said Bucky sincerely, a lazy, contented smile crossing his lips.

“Hmm,” said Sam as he climbed back onto the bed to kiss Bucky once more. “Might keep you, too.”

Bucky kissed Sam back fervently and said, “I’m yours if you want me.”

“I do,” said Sam as Bucky’s hands moved to rid him of the blue Henley. “And I’m yours, too.”

#sbsummer2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #sam wilson sundays

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 2 months ago

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Hiii, do you have any tips for drafting out embroidery patterns? I've got one in mind, but drafting it out and color picking is so nerve-wracking!!

[Hi!!!! this got kinda really long so I'm gonna crop it under a read more. And I honestly don't have any real training/instruction in fiber arts so this is just how I do things, and probably others do them very differently!]

Haha so my fandom embroideries are VERY different from my non-fandom personal pieces in this respect. For non-fandom things i just kind of throw myself in like WAHOO FREEFORM LETS GO and go for a kind of messy colorful approach that ends up as things like this:

Versus my fandom stuff is way more structured and designed to fill space, be very precise, etc. So for those I do go in with a digital mock up of the design I make in photoshop, that I then color in, and then as my last step translate to thread colors.

For my Dragon Age series. this has been because I'm specifically trying to mimic the stained-glass style of art you see in parts of the game like the dialogue wheels, some icons, windows, etc. The icons in particular were really easy to copy into embroidery because they already come in handy circles:

This is mostly because I have desperately wanted to pick up stained glass work as a hobby for like 6 years now. As in once every 3-6 months I put everything I'd need to start doing it into an online shopping cart and look at the price total and then sadly close the window because I just don't actually have any space I could do it in (I live in a 2bed apartment so i have no garage or yard or anywhere it wouldn't make everything else a mess or be a hazard). The day after one of those events I impulse bought and completed a floral embroidery kit from the craft store and kinda was like... ok, well, I did this once how hard can it be to use this medium to mimic the hobby I wish I could be doing? Plus, it's only like 60 cents per color! I can afford that! So I took the first design I wanted to do, the romance icon, and basically redrew it sloppily in photoshop, then freehand-copied the design onto fabric and stitched it the next day:

I learned a lot from this piece and changed my approach a little. Here you can see I tried shading in the parallel direction to my thread, which looked messy and added texture, so now I shade horizontally to my thread direction instead.

But it gave me a basic approach for turning the Tarot cards or DA Keep tiles (or any other art!) into embroidery patterns, which I couldn't copy as directly into this really smooth stained-glass style. There's a basic process I follow when doing these conversions that generally follows the same order, which I'll go through below.

STEP 1: SHAPES

The first thing I do is pick the shape of my display frame which is usually a circle, but could be an oval or rectangle too, since I hang the finished pieces on my wall to have nice way to show them off. I like to fill the whole space so knowing the size and shape of what I want the finished project to look like is a good goal for me. Since I am doing fandom pieces I want to be recognizable, I do stick pretty close to the "original" character design/art, but you can absolutely change as much as you want and freehand draw your own interpretation instead. If you're doing original art just substitute the below composition notes with "sketch out roughly what you want it to look like". I personally do my pattern drafting digitally as I find it easier, but you can do this part by hand too.

First, I keep the reference image I'm working off of open next to me while I work, and draw in the shape of my frame (here, a circle). If I'm adding in the little border to be fancy, I add a second inner circle. I keep these as their own top layer so I always know I'm working within the final "frame" and don't spend time designing any section that will fall outside it. Then I will take copies of the reference image and knock the layers down to 25-50% opacity, and start moving them around underneath the 'frame' layer until I like the way their positioning looks as a composition. Sometimes elements of a card I want to include don't all fit in, so I'll chop the section out and add an additional layer to throw in (like the background circle things in the Hermit design below). Or I'll just freehand things like adding much bigger diamonds behind Solas in my Hierophant design because I did NOT want to do 1000 tiny ones. Then once I'm satisfied with the general composition, I'll use the plain ol circular brush tool to trace out the major shapes of each element. I try to keep in mind that I can't go too small, and curvy lines are more difficult to fill in than straight ones. I usually do a rough messy version first, make it mostly transparent, and then a cleaner and more precise one over that.

(you can see parts of the rough one on the left and the fully 'cleaned up' on the right for the Hierophant design)

Now: depending on what you are doing next with the pattern, this might be where you stop and start coloring. If you are planning to freehand your design or just trace it onto fabric (or even print it onto fabric here), there's no need to do more than this kind of lineart! However, if you are working digitally and want to create a scalable vector so you can print it at different sizes, you can use the pen tool in photoshop to trace your design and make a "work path" of the lineart. However, another note: THIS PART IS VERY FRUSTRATING AND TEDIOUS BECAUSE THE PEN TOOL WAS CREATED BY THE DEVIL TO TORMENT US. It is so so so easy to accidentally delete a line or even the whole path and not notice later on. Ask me how I know 😭 Anyway I'm not going to include a pen tool tutorial because I don't even know how to use it well and have to google or watch videos every other time I try to use it. But if you can muddle through it gets you some really clean lines that eventually look like this:

With the work path selected, you can select the brush tool/size/color and use the "stroke path" option to create lineart of the vector. Then you can save this as a transparent png file for use at different sizes and for printing and it looks so nice and clean! one of the big benefits to this is that you get really fine lines that are easier to be precise with stitching on. This is extra perfect if you are printing the design directly onto your fabric (which you can do with an at-home inkjet printer for designs under 8inches wide, as long as you stick a piece of stabilizer on the back of your fabric and cut it down to printer sheet size--this is what I do and can make another post about that process if people want haha), or if you are printing onto transfer paper like you can buy at craft stores.

This is where I end the lineart for my designs. After I have this, I move on to the next phase, which is...

STEP 2: COLOR

For interpreting my designs into thread, I start by thinking of it as flat colors first. You can't "shade" as easily with threads as you can with things like paint or brushes in digital art (though you can A Little, which I will get into), so to start color planning I pick the "main" color each section will be in the piece.

For the existing icons this was simple--I kept the same sections as the original designs, so for each I just color picked or eyeballed the color in photoshop and colored it in (but you could do this on paper with pencils, markers, whatever as well--they don't need to match your threads exactly and usually won't, it's just to give you an easy reference to follow as you go). For the tarot cards which were more complicated in coloration, I just did my best and went with what looked good next to each other, even if it was a little off the original art. It will be off more later anyway when you have to pick threads so don't stress it too much honestly. I will often make layers with different color options and turn them on/off for direct comparison to try to determine what I think looks best as well, like below where I was debating between more blue/desaturated for the background or brighter colors.

I do wanna note I have regrets about the color selection, shapes, or shading in EVERY SINGLE ONE of my finished pieces. But no one else ever comments or probably even notices! One aspect of this hobby is just learning to be satisfied with what you've made and using what you learned to get closer to your preferences next time. I'm only going back and redoing some of my designs' colors because I want to make it easier for others to choose on the patterns I sell, more than I care for just for myself. Also since I'm doing this lineart/stained glass looking approach where I go over the distinct shapes with black thread at the end, it means I get these clear delineations between sections you might not necessarily have in your own pieces, and that's ok.

Ok right. Now while shading/coloring in detail is hard with thread, you CAN make whats essentially dithered gradients. "Dithering" in the concept of art means using 2 (or more) colors to give the impression of a third color, or to gently scale between the existing binary rather than a hard line. Think of it like blocky pixel art or gameboy game images. If you're doing needlepainting, you use really small stitches close together to get this effect, which translates to "smaller pixes"--if you look at the jellyfish in my first photos that's a very messy casual version of that. If you want a better example, I recommend looking at @ammocharis 's pieces like these in her pinned post, which are truly amazing! I simply do not have the patience myself 😂 For my stained glass style, I work only in very long straight stitches, so I can only shade in one direction and have to be a little more precise with it.

So for shading, I think about in each section which direction my threads might go. Then perpendicular to that direction I pick which side will be the light one and which the darker one. Sometimes I color this in on my pattern mockup, but sometimes I don't! Or I'll only do it for certain sections to make sure I don't forget. Like for my Tower design I only colored it as flats, and waited until I selected threads to decide how the shading would go. I am currently working on a smaller, simplified version of my Hierophant design and I did add shading digitally for that one just for fun. But it's not as important as having the flat color version you can use to quick-reference how you want your design to go while you're stitching. You might also notice I don't actually color my gold--I just throw in a stock image of gold foil for that layer so I can't confuse it with any of my yellow thread sections.

Here's a close up where you can kind of see what I mean by the "dithered" effect between colors--some are more obvious (like the red on the far left or middle orange) and others pretty subtle (dark grey to dark red on the wolf face):

Now, while I use single layers of satin stitches for this, and just alternate thread colors increasing/decreasing as I go, you can accomplish the same thing with short overlapping stitches like with needlepainting, or with clusters of french knots, or whatever else. But in GENERAL you are going to be able to trick people into seeing gradients out of dithering best when you are using the same type of stitch for that whole area. So if I was using multiple stitch types like having french knots, daisy chains, ladder stitching or whatever else for some sections, I would keep those to contrasting areas/colors. A fantastic example of using different layered types of stitching to create more intricate color/texture in an embroidery would be these incredible tarot card depictions by @hattedhedgehog, which I like even better than my own embroideries. Here's his take on the Tower card as well for comparison to mine (I'm so in love with it!!!).

But anyway, at this phase, your design is actually still digital--the above is just to explain how it translates later in the process. The next step is...

STEP 3: THREAD SELECTION

I will admit here I am not great at this part. I am constantly second guessing my thread colors, and can spend over an entire hour in the thread aisle at the craft store agonizing over choices. Really, I think this is just one of those things that takes practice and you get better at it over time. What I have had the best luck with is actually printing out a reference photo of my design/the original artwork and taking it with me. If you already have threads you can do this part at home too, but DMC alone has over 500 colors and I definitely don't even own half that so I like to torture myself by looking at them all together on the thread racks. Plus Anchor and Artiste and whatever other brands there are out there. One approach is to just sit there and pick out what you want for each section and line it all up together on top of your printout. Or in the case of my Tower I laid a bunch of options out on top of my template in the hoop to guess how they'd look in the frame.

For me since I am also doing this dither shading thing, I also need 2-3 colors per sections depending on its size. Sometimes it's easy and the threads have a color just a little darker or lighter right next to them in the numerical lineup! Other times, there is no good match, or it looks too far away to shade nicely, or I want one to be a warmer or cooler tone than the other... which means a lot of standing and fretting to myself over it. I actually take a lot of photos at this stage because it can be easier to see how they will look in the end from a photo than in person to me? Idk why. Plus then after they get scrambled in my bag I remember wtf order I meant for them to go in later. But as long as you're not preventing other customers from shopping themselves, you can spend as long as you want staring at thread in the embroidery aisle and they won't kick you out unless it's closing time, so take your time.

Now, IN THEORY, you can sort of combine steps 2 and 3 by color-selecting from your threads and using that to color in the design. However I have tried this and it led to mixed success because the photoshop eyedropper brush simply isn't actually that exact (in my experience, it desaturates compared to what we actually see). And because then you have to have the threads on hand while you're coloring... which means you might buy ones you don't end up using if you don't like them. So I prefer to just use this as a refinement step where I pick threads based on the design colors, then will re-color the design a second time to match those threads more closely to be sure I like the effect.

I've even used this as a tool when I needed to adjust my color choices mid-project, by digitally coloring over over my WIP:

Or here's a design (but I haven't posted the finished piece yet bc it's a gift so shhh) I made with certain color tones initially, but after buying thread I re-did the color mockup to be more vibrant, because I liked those threads better in the store:

Once you have your thread, you can make yourself a little reference chart with the colors you intend noted on the sections you want them, like below:

(note: i didn't end up sticking to these colors because I ended up dying my own thread for several sections. And then forgot I made this entirely and picked new ones because I put the project down for a year between design and stitching. Sigh).

Or for my Solas pattern I did this in a really detailed way, which i am sorry but i have redacted because... i have it for sale now and don't wanna just give that away haha. But if you buy the pattern from my shop this is one of the files you'd get with it, for ease of reference. I do also include a text-only list of them as well.

Now I don't go to this much trouble for all my designs, just the ones I put up for sale (or plan to). You can also just make a text list of your color plans if you want. Though for fun I also have been using my scrap thread to make these little "color palette" keyrings for my finished pieces, so if I ever remake them or update their patterns I will know what the original colors were, plus I can compare what i used to other threads if I wanna change part of the design up. This step is absolutely not necessary and I'm just doing it because I'm selling the patterns now, but they are kinda fun to look at.

And don't forget.. if you start a section in a certain color and decide you don't like it, you can just cut the threads and pull them out! I did that with my original hierophant piece actually. I had an entirely different color for one row of diamonds i thought just clashed way too much with the others, so I used photoshop to paint over it with some alternate options until I found one I liked better. Then I cut away all the old threads and put in the new color. It can be a little harder to fill a piece the second time since the fabric will have stretched out a little, but as long as you're using a good stabilizer it usually doesn't move too much.

You can also just make test swatches on spare fabric to test before you add them to your real piece. I wish I'd done this for some color transitions that didn't end up looking the way I wanted, but I am simply too lazy most of the time. My exception is usually for metallic, satin, or sparkly threads, because I want to know how they feel while embroidering. But if you're really worried about a certain color or shade it's a good thing to remember you can just do.

SO yep, that's my general process for drafting patterns. I start with the shapes/design, then do my flat color version, then I pick my threads. Makes it sound easy and short when phrased like that :) But I can honestly spend 8-10 hours just on making the lineart and coloring it in. If I was better at art, probably this would be less, but I'm working with what I've got (not much) 😂 I think all aspects of this are also something that gets easier over time, but it will probably never look as bad as you worry when you start out. I think all my pieces look awkward and rough right up until I do the finishing steps and move them to the display frame sometimes.

I hope this was helpful and answered your questions!! Feel free to post/share your WIPs to ask for feedback or advice ever too :) I've only ever had people in the embroidery community on tumblr be encouraging and helpful to me, and I'm happy to answer any questions myself when I can or if parts of this were confusing

#ramblings #my stuff #my embroidery #embroidery #dragon age embroidery #calicostorms #oh god tumblr changed the alignment of all my images so theyre all huge now great #WELL I keep tryign to rearrage them to be on the same line and it is NOT working so. thats how they will look i geuss #this is gonna annoy me all night... thats what i get for expectign a Functional Website though

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stevenbasic · 3 months ago

Text

Growing into the Job, Post 408: Babysitting, p3

“So, how exactly are you going to pay for all of this?” Randi asked me, her eyes rising up from her laptop from where she sat on the couch, several cushions away, “You’re broke from the divorce, aren’t you?”

“She, um, gave me debit card,” I answered, not taking my eyes off my own screen - the big tv in Melissa’s mom’s great room. I’d figured out a way, with Randi’s help (and permission) to use the television to surf the web. I hadn’t been online in a while and at first Randi was reticent about letting me use it. I explained, though, that I just needed to do some shopping.,After some arguing, and, well pleading, she finally relented and said I could, as long as she could supervise. So, sitting here on a quiet Thursday afternoon after having endured not just one but, I think, three blow jobs while watching the first part of Melissa’s interview for Channel 5, I put another set of shoes into my Amazon cart. Yes, I was dependent on a woman’s money and being policed in my internet habits by a 20-something year-old. At this point, though, I was nearly beyond the embarrassment and humiliation of the situation. Nearly. “She said I could use it for whatever I want.”

When I said ‘she’, there was no question of who I was talking about, and Randi’s eyes lit up with a smirk.

“Melissa’s got you sucking from her bank account already, huh?” Randi quipped, the bank account/teat analogy not lost on me but not rankling me quite as much as it should have. Quite. “How much did she give you?”

“ I- she gave me two thousand dollars,” I answered. Maybe I was relaxed from the half-hour or so I’d spent in Randi’s mouth and the quick nap I’d taken after, but admitting my financial dependence on my girlfriend didn’t bother me much. Much. I’d kept an eye on my online cart; I still had a good cushion in my budget and moved on to looking for shirts…in the “Youth” section. “I’ll be careful not to run out.”

“Well, if you use it up I’m sure she’ll let down some more money for her needy little man,” Randi finished, “Melissa’s got very big…accounts.” Her smoky voice was still deliciously throaty from the blowjobs.

Again, haha, with the boob analogy and a - fuck me - stirring in my sweatpants.

“Yeah,” I answered, this time finally feeling myself flush. Randi certainly had a way about her, a way to find my buttons, and she obviously loved to push them. I always thought of her as pushy, a little critical, and with a somewhat rough, randy (hey-oo) sense of humor. She had a penchant for deliberately pressuring me, and sometimes seducing me, way beyond my comfort zone. Today, in fact, was our third private tryst, and it was an unspoken fact that it came with her best friend’s nodding approval. I understood Randi’s seductions as mostly practical. They were calculated, mercenary, career-advancing moves designed to trap me in a corner and use my own weaknesses against me. She knew I didn’t have the strength of will to say no, and her advancements almost seemed like an amusement to her, practically a prank. On some level, though, both Randi and I knew there were heavier machinations at work. She’d never admit it but my cock down her throat filled some deeper instinct, some sort of connection that flowed through me, her, and all the girls.

Yeah, so Randi was maybe becoming more than just a brash prankster who liked making men horny and stupid, getting her kicks from pushing them to risky and humiliating sexual acts. Something important was quietly happening, surfacing in her - like it was in lots of the girls at the office. Randi was no doubt an acerbic, short-tempered young woman but she was smart, and given the context of her being overwhelmed with all of the new demands on her life I got the sense she knew she was moving upwards towards some greater role than just Social Media Director at a geriatrics practice in the Midwest.

With Randi pestering me, I’d unconsciously found myself stroking the debit card Melissa had given me. I never told anyone, but I nearly always kept it in my pocket. Weirdly, having it around made me feel safe. Now that I had it out next to me, I couldn’t help but hold it close.

“Maybe I’ll buy something nice for her,” I muttered, not even realizing what I’d said out loud as I navigated my way toward the ‘Women’s Clothing’ section. Amazon had certainly started using curvier, more athletic models these days. Maybe they felt the need to start living up to their name haha.

“Oh, you want to get Melissa something? I know she was talking about a dog collar,” Randi offered.

“Really? Why?” I asked, “Is she thinking about getting a new pet?”

Speaking of, Melissa’s moms cat - ‘Tiger’, I think - sauntered across the room, between the television and where I sat. Had it been around here the whole time?

“Hey, cat, what’s up? Need your litterbox changed?” Randi teased.

The thing paused, fixed Randi with a death stare, and moved on.

Randi chuckled, and turned her attention back to me. “Anyway, no more tv,” said, putting her laptop aside, “you and I got some chores to do.”

Oh yeah, that. Laundry.

Five minutes later, at Randi’s command, I found myself back upstairs gathering up not only my own dirty clothes from the bedroom but Melissa’s as well. Panties, bras, socks and athletic gear were all strewn haphazardly about the room. Most of the time I was a bit too distracted to notice, but she really was a mess and a half sometimes. Finally, with a bit of work, all the clothes found their way into the already half-full laundry basket sitting in the corner. Apparently not satisfied with the bra from which I’d still needed to breathe, I took the chance to surreptitiously sniff Melissa’s dirty clothes. Good god, the smell of her was like a drug. I just couldn’t get enough. This must be love, right? I was alone, and suddenly horny again and was considering rubbing one out right th-

“Hey, dude..!” came Randi’s voice, calling up to me from the bottom of the stairs, “What’s taking so long? Are you rubbing one out?”

Sigh.

I was still strong enough to carry the now-overflowing basket down the steps and to the laundry room, where Randi supervised me separating out the delicates (mostly Melissa’s lingerie) from everything else. We’d started the load of regulars, some towels and a robe were already in the dryer, and Randi had - Whoah! - picked me up under the armpits to boost me to sit on the washer while she went through what looked like another pile of bras that had been set atop the dryer alongside me.

My feet dangled off the edge as I watched Randi pick through them, looking at tags, setting some aside to go through the next load.

I recognized a few of these bras. Old ones of Melissa’s, from months back.

“Uhh…” Anything to do with Melissa’s bras did seem to enthrall me.

“These are ones she’s outgrown, she told me I could have them,” Randi explained, holding up a white underwire whose band and tag I recognized from an old Insta post of Melissa’s.

“R-really?” I managed.

Sidelong, Randi glanced at me and her smile curled into something a bit more predatory when she heard the crack in my voice. “Yeah. I’m basically as big as she was when you hired her.”

Randi’s tone suggested she knew exactly how captivated I was. “Well, I’m taller now than she was then, so 34GG’s don’t look as ginormous on me as they did on her,” she dryly explained, “But don’t worry I’m a growing girl.”

Though I’d been confronted with this before, the sheer absurdity of the fact that yes all the women around me seemed to be getting taller, stronger and bustier still boggled me. “h-how does this happen??” I asked with obvious futile impotence, sitting on the washer and eye-to-eye with Randi, who must be over six feet tall at this point.

“Dude, haven’t you figured it out yet? The Melissssy Effect?” she snipped, white lace brassiere still in her hands, “Spend too much time around her and you start becoming what she needs you to be.”

Yes, right…wait, what?! I knew it, I felt it, this influence my new Office Manager was having over our staff… and over me <shiver>. I think I’d secretly known it all along. I could ‘feel’ it, but it was just too ludicrous to get my head around. “H-how..??”

“Plain and simple,” Randi answered sharply, “She’s magic.”

My brow furrowed. “T-there’s no s-such thing as magic,” I muttered, hearing for myself the uncertainty in my voice.

To my reply, Randi cocked a dark, sculpted eyebrow. “I dunno. I wouldn’t be so sure.”

My throat caught, blood rushed behind my eyes. “C’mon…she’s not ‘magic’,” I insisted, again with the hesitation of a man whose worldview had been crumbling around him already. “Magic’s impossib-”

“Okay then she’s ‘science’,” Randi retorted, “You believe in science don’t you?”

“Yes but…” The science was even more unbelievable.

“Or, maybe she’s ‘religion’. Or - I dunno - maybe she’s all three,” Randi concluded a bit uncertain herself. Her tone seemed to signal that there were things about what was happening that she didn’t fully understand herself. “I honestly don’t fucking know.” Irritated, she obviously wanted to move onto something else.

The washing machine vibrated underneath me, the dryer rumbling alongside.

She held the big white bra in her hands, making a bit of a show of it. She wanted me to look up as she inspected its full satin cups. Despite knowing what she was doing, I couldn’t help but grow silent, my mind captivated by the sight.

“Anyway, since we’re on the subject,” she began again, “now that I’m as big as she was when you hired her - and we all know you hired her for her tits - I want to make as much as she did.”

Wait.

“Wh-what?” Now we’re talking salaries?

“I want a raise. A big one.”

“Y-y-you want to make as much as Melissa? Our Office Manager??” The shock of it pulled my attention out of Melissa’s bra cup and back to Randi’s crooked smile.

“Well, not as much as she makes now of course…” Randi offered.

Makes…now? Melissa’s pay should be the same as-

“She gave herself a raise, didn’t you know?”

My expression must have been one of shocked incredulousness, and I felt myself gaping, confused.

Randi chuckled at my consternation, and her hand drifted down to find my erection alive and well in my sweatpants, clear for her to see. After a brief second of shock, my body tensing at her touch, I realized just how obviously turned on I was from this predicament I found myself in. With well-practiced proficiency, she slid her hand down the waistband of my pants, and pulled my hard shaft out into the open air. Fuck it was huge, startlingly so on my skinny, 4’7” frame. She smiled as she gave it a squeeze.

I groaned, my eyes fluttered, but - passively - I didn’t complain. Suddenly I was distracted from the surprise of Melissa’s raise and the insult to my already-crumbling authority, and all my attention was centered right where Randi wanted it. On her.

“Face it, buddy,” Randi said, as she took my cock and wrapped it into one of the white satin bra cups of Melissa’s bra, causing me to shudder and moan anew. My vision swam and already my loins sparked and clenched. “We’re all getting richer. We’re all getting more beautiful, taller, stronger.” She began to stroke the bra over my throbbing, nearly ten-inch shaft. Her voice was smoky and low. “All of us are getting bigger, all of us - except you.”

“Oh godddddd….” I groaned, and - Jesus, that was f-fast - came into Melissa’s bra..

As the orgasm wracked me, I fell forward from where I sat. my face planted itself into Randi’s - my savior and tormenter’s - waiting bosom. “Shhh…deep breath,” I heard her chuckle, waiting until I inhaled before speaking again. She felt me melting. “I smell like her don’t I?”

Nnngh…nnngh…nnngh….Melissa. Yes, she did. A sharper edge to it, perhaps, but Randi’s scent was all but exactly Melissa’s.

“We’re all starting to get to be more like her,” Randi drawled as she milked me through my climax, into the satiny cup of her friend’s enormous bra, “and not just the tits.”

Nnngh, nnngh, nnngh. Into the bra I came, until my pulses waned.

Still gripping my spent manhood and the bra with one hand, Randi pulled me back from her chest with the other. She took one of my hands into hers, and opened it up so we were palm-to-palm. We both marveled at the lopsided size comparison, how my fingers went just past the first joint of hers. She chuckled, and turned her narrowed eyes back onto me as she brought my hand up to her lips. Gently, she started kissing my fingers, looking into my eyes with a suddenly tender intimacy that was unusual for Randi.

“Being with me is kinda like being with her, hm?” she said, both of us aware of this weird energy - and Melissa’s unseen presence - in the room, “You can think about her when you’re with me. She’s your girlfriend, I don’t mind.”

Randi kissed my fingertip, sucked gently on my index finger to the first knuckle. She was still rubbing me, massaging me through the squishy bra, and she saw my eyes fluttering again. “C’mon I know you can do it,” she whispered.

Astonishing even myself, I began to swell again.

“Oooo there you go,” Randi chuckled, as her hand - assisted by the cup of the bra and now the lubrication of my last release - began to squeeze and stroke me anew. “Women really have so much power over you, don’t they?” she posited, feeling me hardening, “such amazing things we can do, Melissa, all us girls.”

“M-Melissa..?” I groaned.

“Shhh remember, I’m getting to be just like her. And she’s not jealous. Being with me is like being with her, she’s told you herself,” she purred, sucking my index finger into her mouth and then out again, like she was sucking a dick, “But…there are still some special things of my own I can do. My own particular talents…”

I groaned. Was she actually going to do this to me again?

“Let me show you why they call me ‘The Mouth’.

At that she started feeding my fingers - two three four…five - in between her lips, and then slid them into her mouth. Her lips closed over them, and I felt the muscle of her tongue moving slowly underneath my fingers.

I shuddered in pleasure and she chuckled as I watched, eyes searching mine as I began to realize what she was about to do.

She moved on to take in my entire hand.

My eyes went wide. She had my whole right hand in her mouth, to the wrist. She still grasped my forearm which, by god, was not much longer or thicker than my cock, between her fingers. Her glossy lips were closed in a tight seal around my scrawny wrist, and - drawing in her cheeks - she sucked on my hand powerfully. Her tongue continued its unseen gymnastics around my palm and fingers like an eel. I felt the sharp edges of her teeth bite delicately into my wrist, while all the while her eyes remained locked on mine, staring into my shuddering depths.

She hummed pleasantly, the vibrations of her vocal cords shivering all the way up my arm. I was beginning to groan again, in new pleasure. What was this girl capable of??

With another tug of suction, she began to show me.

I gasped in disbelief as she took in the first few inches of my arm. My eyes stayed locked on hers as - oh my god - she didn’t stop.

She ate more of my arm, lips sliding up and up and up my thin limb as she still hummed into my bones. I felt my hand slide down into her throat and soon she had me to the elbow.

“o-o-oh my god Randi…” I stammered, now staring down at the spectacle. She’d taken my entire forearm into her mouth, her lips closed around the joint of my elbow. I could feel my hand squeezed by the top part of her esophagus, and she swallowed several times on purpose, squeezing my hand and wrist in a muscular embrace of warm tightness….and drawing me in further.

Deeper and deeper she fed me into her mouth, her lips inching forward slowly, gaining territory with each gentle swallow and pull. She was a snake, a she-cobra, devouring its prey and I watched her throat bulging with the thickness of my arm down inside it. The start of my withered bicep, then the middle. Randi kept going.

My cock was throbbing hard now, fully back at erection and still being stroked by Randi now with both hands through Melissa’s bra. Though I couldn’t take my eyes off the horrid spectacle of my arm down this girl’s outrageously distended mouth, hers still bore into mine with insistence, unblinking, not wanting to miss a moment of my reaction.

Randi sucked me in again and I heard the first real gag out of her. She had my upper bicep and then - my god - her jaw widened even further and her lips closed around my shoulder, and came to a stop. Her big head, her mane of straight black hair, was right there, her eyes staring deeply into mine. My jaw hung open and quivering, she’s swallowed my entire arm. My entire arm is inside her, down her throat.

I felt the acid of her stomach burning my hand, threatening to eat away at it.

She hummed deeply again and jostled her head, shaking my whole torso like a panther with its prey. Then she growled, suddenly baring her teeth at me, showing me two rows of teeth clamped down over my shoulder. There was absolutely no doubt that, if Randi had wanted to, she could have bitten off my entire arm. She growled once more and - nnnnnngggguuugggghhh - I felt myself orgasm again, unngh, unngh, unngh - into the already sodden bra. How did I have anything left in me?! Her tongue lapped under my armpit, and she sucked on my arm like one giant cock, her entire alimentary canal closing tightly around it and milking it in rhythm with my climax…

=============================================

Thanks to reader GrillFan for his insightful character analysis of Randi, much of which is included here, Joyce Julep for inspiring the arm-eating scene, and once again RiF for proofreading.

#growingintothejob

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