#and for once I don’t think I was one ??? I feel like I was mostly watching

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

MASTERLIST

Part One -Part Two (coming soon) - Part Three

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- Going to have smut at the end (three parts!) lots of sexual tension, light angst but mostly fluffy, friends to lovers AND marriage of convenience trope lol. Explicit sex, oral sex, it's me so a breed kink, gonna be a miniseries, Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad.

Preview- click above for the chapters!

“You love me, right?”

You blink a bit, as you stare at Satoru Gojo, he’s been your best friend all throughout high school and even before you’ve known him. You’re sitting across from him, while he’s sipping boba with you, his Gucci shades perched on the bridge of that straight nose, a smirk on his glossy lips. You tilt your head curiously at him, of course you love Satoru, but he only pulls this when he needs a favor.

“What’d you get into this time, Toru?” You demand, he gasps then, affronted, a hand to his chest.

“Excuse me, missy? I’m just asking if you love me.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat in the little cafe. “Of course, you know I love your goofy ass.”

Satoru takes off his glasses, those swirling blue eyes wrecking you as they have all these years, usually you can put up enough of a barrier not to let them consume you, but apparently you haven’t today. You watch those snowy lashes lower when his eyes bore into you, swirling storms of bright blue, you have to snap yourself out of it.

Being Satoru Gojo’s best friend wasn’t for the weak.

“How much you love me, hmm?”

“What is it you need, an alibi?” He snorts then, shaking his head and wrapping his lips around the straw.

“M’not Suguru, shit… no, I need a really big favor. Like… the biggest favor, but if you agree, I can really make it worth your while.”

“Okay this isn’t a mobster movie, Toru, what is it?” Satoru looks down then, long fingers swirling around the top of his cup, before his eyes snap back to yours.

“What if I said I’d help you with all that student loan debt, and buy you a shiny brand new car?”

“I don’t want your money, I do fine okay?”

“Your car is old enough to drink.”

“Fuck off!” Your glare makes him snort in laughter. “It is not, it’s like… not even old enough to vote… I don’t think.”

“It’s old, sweets. Say you also had a place to stay, for free?”

“Satoru this isn’t Pretty Woman-”

“I love that movie!”

“Satoru! What are you getting at!?” You’re crossing your arms then, raising a brow at the lanky man across from you, whose legs are spread wide in his dark blue dress pants, he’s pulling just a bit at his silky black tie.

Satoru has taken a huge role recently in his family business, the conglomerate that owned a million different things, you know how much he detests it, but once Satoru graduated college his family pushed it more and more. At this point he was thriving, doing most of the work with his father taking much more of a back seat, his health starting to deteriorate.

You and Gojo spend more time together than ever, you know he needs his friend, especially with Suguru having left for some time, the two of them not together was always hard on him. You’d been friends with both of them, but Suguru seems to have left and found his own calling, swinging through to see you both from time to time, but much is different since those days at Tokyo high.

Not you and Satoru though.

For the longest time you pined away for him, but you never made that move, aside from one stolen kiss in a closet during seven minutes in heaven, and Satoru had it bad for you all of Junior and Senior year, but the two of you never risked it, your friendship. And now you’re glad to have him in your life, but it’s hard to even think of someone serious when he’s so brightly and firmly in your life.

“This is a huge favor I need, it’s… a lot to ask.” Satoru murmurs softly, you tense a bit, brows drawing together.

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” Your voice is a low hum as you murmur, he nods just a bit.

“Yeah it’s fine just… I’m being forced to choose a bride, and they have many candidates.” He laughs humorlessly, and your heart breaks for him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Satoru. I thought you’d have longer?”

“Yeah, I wish.” He runs a hand through his silky white locks, looking down for a moment, lips that always smirk or maybe pout actually frowning. “I need to just get it done, get em off my ass.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, why not tell em to fuck themselves, hmm? Where’s my Toru!?”

“He’s exhausted.” He swipes a hand across his face, and you lean closer, hand on his leg, his eyes sliding back to yours.

“Do you want me to help find someone? I have a lot of good friends in high families… find you someone not money hungry, not a psycho? How much time do you even have?”

“That’s not what I'm asking.” He puts his big hand over yours now, sighing, leaning closer to you. “I’m asking if you want to.”

“If I want to, what exactly?”

“Marry me?”

“What!?” He chuckles then, but even that sound is exhausted.

“You forget you’re from a top family, nah it’s not the Gojo clan but…”

“Satoru…”

“Just for like a bit? To get em to leave me alone, let me gain some more power. All for show, and I’ll help you with anything, I promise.” He’s clutching your hand, and suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning.

“Wh-why me? We… you… I…”

“You’re my best friend, it would be like being roommates damn near. You could… do your thing as long as you’re discrete.” He murmurs, you want to laugh then, as if you’ve done anything in a couple of years now. “And I would be discrete, respectful, we’d just be in name, appearance. We’re best friends, it will be a piece of cake, and most of all… I trust you.”

You try to digest all the information, blinking and trying not to think the insane thoughts that come with it, but you fail. “But won’t they want… an heir?”

Satoru’s cheeks flush bright pink now. “We don’t need to… I’d never ask you to do that, ever I swear. I’d never be an ass like that.”

You feel your heart racing as you shove back all of the images you should not have for your friend. “I know, I know. But… they’d-”

“That’s the thing, a year or so and they’ll back off. Give me time to fix some mistakes, with dad being sick… I’m not saying I won’t miss him, but how he is running shit? No, I know I can make things better, take down these shitty higher ups who are so greedy. You just could give me more time, and I promise I’ll do anything I can to help you too.”

“It’s insane, this is marriage!” You blink a bit, shifting, his hand now brushing back a lock of hair from your forehead, a familiar gesture that now takes on something more intimate.

“It can just be for show, we’ll be the same best friends as always. I have no one I can imagine even living with but you, maybe Suguru but… he’s not a girl.”

“He has that long silky hair?” You both laugh a little, softly then.

“He sure does, but… you’re prettier to look at.”

“Flattery? Stop that. It’s insane, and… how would we even explain it in such a rush?”

“We’ve been friends forever. Who wouldn’t believe that we got together? It’s even easier. I mean, maybe a couple kisses and things for show, but… you’ve kissed me before, remember?” He’s grinning wide then, you shove at him playfully. “That closet was cramped, hmm?”

“Oh shut it, that was so long ago. I mean, if you really need me, you know I’ll do this for you. I don’t expect you to go all out on anything for me in return.” Satoru pauses now, watching how the light streaming in through the large cafe windows hits your pretty face, as you explain to him that you’d want nothing in return for this!? For this huge imposition on your life.

You have always been the sweetest, best friend he has had, so important to him he’s never dared to cross that line, and he knows it will tempt him to no end to do this, but he also knows he can trust you. “Let me just take care of a few things for you, you can almost see it as a job. There will be events, meetings with the other leaders, trust me. Like anything I can do, you’ll be helping me so much.”

“Alright.”

“What!?”

He’s hugging you tightly to him, you giggle a bit, breathless. “Yeah, I’ll do it… I need a nice car though, Toru. A BMW?”

“I’ll get you ten BMWs.”

“Jesus, no. Silly boy.” You giggle as you look up at him, your best friend, but then your heart falters when he’s just a bit too close.

“Should we practice kissing now?” He teases, voice husky.

“Satoru, you're insufferable.”

He pouts now, and you swallow down the fact that you don’t know if you can even handle kissing his lips.

First part here

permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw @aldebrana @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 gojo: @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @jinjen suggestion from the lovely @bunheadusa

[buck-star]

for the stucky bingo!! “showering together”

either smutty or angsty! if you go angsty I’m always a sucker for the whole “just got bucky back” civil war era trope.

maybe steve helps bucky shower for the first time since getting him back! he prob didn’t have running water in bucharest so is a lil grimey but def doesn’t really have any positive associations with showers or bathing so he’s on EDGE the entire time but steve just mama birds him.

or alternatively bucky mama birds steve! maybe he gets sick somehow and bucky is full blown 1940’s “stfu and let me take care of you mode” and drags him into the shower

sorry for the rambling bye

Shower and comfort

Steve helps Bucky not just with a shower but also to calm his anxiety during the shower.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers

Wordcount: 2.330 Words

Warnings/Tags: anxiety, Bucky with ptsd, crying, comfort, established relationship, petnames [baby], kisses, nudity (none sexual), fluff

Authors Note: Thank you for the request. It really sparked the muse to write, hope you like it. Divider made by me.

Events: WinterShield Bingo [I2 | Showering Together | @wintershieldbingo], Hurt Comfort Bingo [BO32 | Row Two-Three | Showering Together | @hurtcomfort-bingo], Stucky Bingo [SB6010 | N3 | Free Space | @stuckybingo], Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love [O5 | Silent Hugs | @seasonaldelightsbingo]

Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist

The warmth of the hot steam of the steady shower spray fills the room, mixed with the sound of the water dripping down onto the cool shower tiles to warm them up.

“Stevie, I don’t think… I don’t need a shower,” Bucky stutters, hugging himself tightly while he sits on the closed toilet where Steve placed him a few minutes ago. “I—I can just… I will just use a bit of soap and a sponge to wash me.”

Steve shakes his head; he hates to see Bucky so afraid and unsure. But as much as he loves his boyfriend, he can’t ignore that Bucky’s looking like he hasn’t had a shower in years — he probably hasn’t.

Bucky’s brown hair is stuck together, dirty, and causing pain already when Bucky tries to comb it. More often than not, Bucky scratches his dry skin until it’s a wound that has to be fixed by Steve, or else it would inflame itself.

“Buck, I know you don’t like it, but your hair is so dirty; we can’t fix it with just a bit of soap and a short wash,” Steve tries, but his boyfriend shakes his head, refusing to undress himself for the shower.

“But I don’t want to,” Bucky whines. As cute as it might sound, Steve notices the deep fear that’s in the tone of Bucky’s rough voice. His ocean blue eyes are pleading to let him get away with just a short cleaning. Steve would agree to it, and Bucky would agree to having a shower a week, but he hadn’t had one in months, maybe even years.

“When was the last time you really cleaned yourself? A full-body cleaning?” Steve asks, his voice remaining soft and understanding. He would never say that Bucky’s disgusting for having such a lack of self-cleaning, but he wants his boyfriend to feel better, and showers are supposed to feel better. Once you’re clean and pretty, you mostly feel not just fresh but also better.

“I don’t know… But I… I can clean my whole body without having to step inside there,” Bucky tries to argue. He only earns a soft shake of the other man’s head with a smile on the plump lips of his boyfriend. “Stevie, please. I will wash my body. But I don’t want to go into the shower.”

“How do you want to clean yourself then, baby?” Steve knows how Bucky would do it; he would undress and use some soap on either his hands or a sponge to rush it over his skin and use a bit of water to wash it away. The amount of water Bucky uses to clean himself fits in a small glass. And then he would dry himself with a towel before dressing himself again.

“Stevie…” Bucky mumbles, hugging himself even closer. The brunette shakes his head, whimpering quietly. “Please…”

“How about we undress you?” Steve suggests turning the shower off. Bucky immediately relaxes and nods. He lets his hands fall to his sides, and Steve uses the opportunity to help Bucky out of his sweat and dirt-covered Henley.

Bucky then gets off the toilet, looking down at Steve on his knees while he pushes down Bucky’s sweatpants and gets up to take a step backwards.

“Take off your boxers and I will get you a clean towel and a sponge,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s forehead before he leaves the bathroom. Bucky does as he’s told, pushing down the thin fabric of his boxer briefs and stepping out of it. He then sits back down on the toilet, waiting for his boyfriend to come back into the bathroom.

Steve walks back into the bathroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder, new boxer briefs, a Henley, and sweatpants, as well as a sponge in his hands. He watches when Bucky pulls his legs against his chest and wraps his arms tightly around them. The usual broad and big man looks small and fragile when he sits there like that.

“Sit down in the shower for me; the tiles should be warm,” Steve says as he puts the clothes down on a counter. Bucky watches him with widened eyes, shaking his head. “Please, Buck. Sit down in the shower for me; I don’t want to drag you in there.”

“Stevie, you wouldn’t. Please, you don’t want to drag me in there,” Bucky whimpers, pulling his legs even closer against his broad chest. “I’m strong—“

Steve sighs, wrapping one arm around Bucky’s back, and the other slides underneath his legs, lifting his boyfriend up. Bucky whines, wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend's neck while he lets Steve carry him to sit on the floor in the shower.

“Stevie, you’re mean… I’m not gonna shower in here,” Bucky mumbles and tries to get out of the shower, but Steve blocks the way and gets on his knees to push Bucky back into a sitting position.

“Please, I know you’re scared, but please let me wash you. Let me undress; I will join you, and I will wash you. We can keep the door slightly open if it helps; the water isn’t gonna hurt you. And I’m not gonna hurt you, either,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers over Bucky’s cheekbones to his jaw to tilt his head slightly. “I will make you all the hot chocolate your heart desires, and we can watch all the movies you want with all the food you want to order, which can be fast food or whatever you want. But first we shower.”

Bucky’s eyes fill with tears, and he curls himself together as small as he can while Steve sighs and gets out of the shower to undress himself. Bucky muffled his quiet sobs with his arms, moving into the corner of the shower to press his back against the cool tiles of the shower.

When Steve turns back, his heart aches, and he quickly gets into the shower as well, crouching down and closing the door behind him. He reaches his hand out to pull Bucky closer and turns him in his arms so Bucky’s back is tightly pressed against Steve’s broad shoulder.

Steve runs his fingers softly up and down Bucky’s sides and over his thighs, trying to soothe him. “Buck, baby, take a deep breath for me, please.”

Bucky tries to take a deep breath, but another sob wracks through his body. The brunette is trembling; his fingers dig into his thighs while he leans against his boyfriend, his head against Steve’s shoulder.

He whimpers quietly. “Out of the shower, Stevie, please,” he whispers, more tears rolling down his cheeks. Steve keeps storming up and down Bucky’s soft skin, slowly taking both of his boyfriend's hands to keep him from digging his fingers into your thighs to cause bruises. “Stevie, please.”

“Take a deep breath, Buck. Deep breath, hold it, and slowly exhale,” Steve mumbles, his heart squeezing with Bucky’s pleading tone and begging. “You can test the water if it’s too hot or cold, and I will be as soft as I can.”

Bucky shakes his head. His fingers curl around Steve’s hands, grounding himself. “Please,” he begs, trembling and crying softly, but he does as Steve asked him and takes a few deep breaths and watches Steve take the showerhead. The blond-haired man turns on the water.

“So, hold your hand underneath, Buck,” he says softly. He wants to take off the shower and not shower with his boyfriend, but he knows he has to. When Bucky reaches his shaky hand out and lets the soft spray of the water fall on his hand, he flinches but nods. “Good, then I will start with your hair, and after that you can wash the rest while I clean your hair.”

“But… Stevie…” Bucky whispers, turning his head slightly to look at his boyfriend. His eyes are red and teary. “Be careful, please; I-it hurts when I comb through my hair.”

“Of course, I will not hurt you, Buck,” Steve explains before he brings the head of the shower to Bucky’s head. He uses one hand to lean the brunette's head back, letting the water dribble down on his messy hair. “You can relax; it’s just you and me in the shower, Buck.”

They both sit there in silence for a moment; Steve wets Bucky’s hair. His fingers combing as carefully as possible through them while Bucky sits there all tensed and still softly crying. When his hair is wet enough, Steve holds the shower head in front of Bucky to take it, and he does, letting the warm water flow down on his legs to keep him warm.

“If you don’t want to have the water on, let me know, and if anything is uncomfortable, you tell me,” Steve says, using some of the shampoo Bucky loves so much to put into his hands. He rubs them together for a bit before he brings them down on top of Bucky’s head and rubs the shampoo in the brown hair.

Bucky stays still; he keeps the showerhead over his legs and sometimes slips his head underneath to collect some water before he lifts his hand and lets it run down his chest.

Steve washes his boyfriend's hair softly, massaging Bucky’s scalp and neck while he rubs the shampoo in his brown locks. “Can you give me the shower head for a moment? Your hair is pretty stuck together; guess we need to wash it out and put a bit more shampoo in it.”

The brunette holds the shower head out for Steve to take. He’s still tense, his body still trembling, and Steve knows that Bucky’s on edge — ready to break down. But somehow he manages not to and remains still. Steve washes Bucky’s hair out, taking care that no shampoo lands in Bucky’s face or eyes.

“You’re doing so good, Buck. I’m proud of you, baby; you’re doing so good for me, letting me wash your hair,” Steve mumbles, using Bucky’s praise kink a bit to his advantage. Bucky’s lips twitch slightly for a short moment, his heart fluttering at the sound of Steve’s words.

“Thank you, Stevie,” he mumbles, taking the shower head again. Steve puts shampoo in Bucky’s hair again and repeats to rub it in the brown locks while he massages Bucky’s scalp and neck.

The longer they sit there, the more he massages Bucky, and the longer the water drops down on Bucky’s thighs and he plays a bit with the water, the more he relaxes.

“So, do you want to wash yourself or want me to wash you?” Steve asks after a while, his thick fingers still tangled into Bucky’s hair. He takes the showerhead once more and washes the shampoo out, Bucky’s hair way cleaner and not as messy anymore.

“You, p-please?” Bucky asks; he's still feeling unsure and on edge in the shower. But with Steve’s soft touch and his assuring words, it makes the shower easier and more comfortable.

“Of course, just relax,” Steve says with a soft smile and kisses the top of Bucky’s hair. He takes the sponge and some soap, then he washes Bucky’s body. Beginning on his shoulders with a slight massage included to his arms and down his muscular chest and abs. Then he moves to Bucky’s back, massaging the tensed muscles while he rubs the dry skin off and cleans Bucky. “Mhm, doing so good, baby. Showers can be really relaxing for tense muscles, and you will feel all fresh, and your skin will be soft like the one of a baby.”

“Stevie…” Bucky whines, playfully this time. The brunette's lips twitch slightly, and he leans further back against his boyfriend's firm chest. “Don’t say that; that’s embarrassing.”

“But it makes you laugh,” Steve argues. He snakes his hands to Bucky’s legs and finishes cleaning his boyfriend, who’s starting to play with the showerhead. Bucky smirks when he washes away the soap the moment Steve inches a moment away. Then he turns the showerhead and holds it at Steve’s shoulder and face, causing the blond-haired man to groan when the water hits his face. “Bucky!”

“Stevie!” Bucky smirks, turning the shower head back. Steve laughs softly and takes the showerhead to wash the soap away, then he turns it off and clicks it back in its place.

The blond-haired man gets up, opening the door of the shower and stepping out. He keeps an eye on his boyfriend, who’s slowly getting up as well. Bucky’s still smiling, his whole body less tense, and he walks out as well.

Steve holds a towel in his arms, grinning as he walks closer and wraps Bucky in the towel before he grabs himself a towel and wraps it around his own body.

“I’m proud of you, Bucky. I know it’s not easy for you to shower with all that stuff that reminds you of your past. But I’m proud of you for taking the shower,” Steve says, placing his hands on Bucky’s waist to pull him closer. Bucky smiles softly, his cheeks heating up, and he leans closer to press his lips softly against Steve’s.

“You’re my rock, Stevie. And you owe me fast food, hot chocolate, movies, and cuddles,” Bucky whispers against the plump lips of his boyfriend. Steve nods, knowing that’s Bucky’s way to say thank you and I love you when it comes to stuff that includes his past trauma. “Burgers… and more burgers, and those cute dino nuggets — these are great, and you love them just as much as I do.”

“I do, but I still love you the most,” Steve smirks, causing Bucky to blush further. He brings his lips to Bucky’s once more, chuckling into the kiss. Steve’s hands remain on Bucky’s waist while Bucky wraps his around Steve’s neck — the metal arm making Steve shiver slightly when the cold hits his skin, while Bucky’s other hand is so warm and soft — and pulls him even closer, growling playfully.

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[sassenach77yle]

Outlander 7x16 "A Hundred Thousand Angels"

I COULDN’T GO to sleep. I’d given Fanny her tea, provided her with suitable cloths—not at all to my surprise, she already knew how to use them—and talked gently to her, careful not to raise any more of her personal ghosts. When Fanny had come to us, Jamie and I had agreed that we wouldn’t try to question her about any of the bits of memory she dropped aloud—like the bad men on the ship and what had happened to Spotty the dog—unless she seemed to want to talk about them. I thought she would, sooner or later. Bree and Roger had agreed as well, though I could see how curious Brianna was. Fanny had mentioned Jane now and then, offhandedly, but in a way designed—I thought—to keep a sense of her sister alive. Seeing her distress tonight, though … Jane was much closer to her than I’d thought. And now that I’d seen Jane’s face … I couldn’t forget it. Knowing only what I did know about the girls’ lives in the brothel in Philadelphia was upsetting; I really hadn’t wanted to find out how they’d come there. I still didn’t … but I couldn’t keep the worm of speculation at bay; it had burrowed into my brain and was squirming busily through my thoughts, killing sleep. Bad men on a ship. A dog thrown into the sea. A pet dog? A family—if Fanny and Jane had been with their parents on a ship that encountered pirates … or even a wicked captain, like Stephen Bonnet

… I felt the hairs rise on my forearms at thought of him, but with remembered anger, not fear. Someone like him could easily have taken a look at the two lovely young girls and decided that their parents could be dispensed with. Faith. Our mother, Fanny had said. I’d looked more than once at the miniature in the locket—but it was too small to show anything more than a young woman with dark hair, maybe naturally curly, maybe curled and dressed in the fashion of the times. No. It can’t be. I rolled over for the dozenth time, settling on my stomach and burying my face in the pillow, in hopes of losing myself in the scent of clean linen and goose down. “It can’t be what, Sassenach?” Jamie’s voice spoke in my ear, sleepily resigned. “And if it can’t, can it not wait ’til dawn?” I rolled onto my side in a rustle of bedding, facing him. “I’m sorry,” I said, and touched him apologetically. His hand took mine automatically, warm and firm.

“I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud. I was … just thinking about Fanny’s locket.” Faith. “Ach,” he said, and stretched himself a little, groaning. “Ye mean the name. Faith?” “Well … yes. I mean—it can’t possibly … have anything to do with …” “It’s no an uncommon name, Sassenach.”

His thumb rubbed gently over my knuckles. “Of course ye’d … feel it. I did, too.” “Did you?” I said softly. I cleared my throat a little. “I—I don’t really do it anymore, but for a time, just—just every now and then—I’d think of her, of our Faith—out of nowhere. I’d imagine I could feel her near me.” “Imagine what she might look like—grown?” His voice was soft, too. “I did that, sometimes. In prison, mostly; too much time to think, in the nights. Alone.” I made a small sound and hitched closer, laying my head in the curve of his shoulder, and his arm came round me. We lay still, silent, listening to the night and the house around us. Full of our family—but with one small angel hovering in the calm sweet air, peaceful as rising smoke. “The locket,” I said at last. “It can’t possibly have anything whatever to do with—” “No, it can’t,” he said, a cautious note in his voice. “But what are ye thinking, Sassenach? Because ye’re no thinking what ye just said, and I ken that fine.” That was true, and a spasm of guilt at being found out tightened my body. “It can’t be,” I said, and swallowed. “It’s only …” My words died away and his hand rubbed between my shoulder blades.

“Well, ye’d best tell me, Sassenach,” he said. “Nay matter how foolish it is, neither one of us will sleep until ye do.” “Well … you know what Roger told me, about the doctor he met in the Highlands, and the blue light?” “I do. What—” “Roger asked me if I’d ever seen blue light like that—when I was healing people.” The hand on my back stilled. “Have ye?” He sounded guarded, though I didn’t know whether he was afraid of finding out something he didn’t want to know, or just finding out that I was losing my mind. “No,” I said. “Or not—well, no. But … I have seen it. Felt it. Twice. Just a flash, when Malva’s baby died.” Died in my hands, covered with his mother’s blood. “But when Faith was born, when I was so ill. I was dying—really dying, I felt it—and Master Raymond came.” “Ye told me that much,” he said. “Is there more?” “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But this is what I thought happened.” And I told him, about seeing my bones glow blue through the flesh of my arms, the feeling of the light spreading through my body and the infection dying, leaving me limp, but whole and healing. “So … um … I know this is nothing but pure fantasy, the sort of thing you think in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep …” He made a low noise, indicating that I should stop apologizing and get on with it. So I took a deep breath and did, whispering the words into his chest. “Master Raymond was there. What if—if he found … Faith … and was able to … somehow bring her … back?” Dead silence. I swallowed and went on. “People … aren’t always dead, even though it looks like it. Look at old Mrs. Wilson! Every doctor knows—or has heard—about people who’ve been declared dead and wake up later in the morgue.” “Or in a coffin.” He sounded grim, and a shudder went over me. “Aye, I’ve heard stories like that. But—a wee babe and one born too soon—how—” “I don’t know how!” I burst out. “I said it’s complete fantasy, it can’t be true! But—but—” My throat thickened and my voice squeaked. “But ye wish it were?” His hand cupped the back of my head and his voice was quiet again. “Aye. But … if it was, mo chridhe, why would he not have told ye? Ye saw him again, no? After he’d healed ye, I mean.” “Yes.” I shuddered, momentarily feeling the King of France’s Star Chamber close around me, the smell of the King’s perfume, of dragon’s blood and wine in the air—and two men before me, awaiting my sentence of death.

“Yes, I know. But—when the Comte died, Raymond was banished, and they took him away. He couldn’t have told me then, and he might not have been able to come back before we left Paris.” It sounded insane, even to me. But I could—just—see it: Master Raymond, stealing out of L’Hôpital des Anges after leaving me, perhaps ducking aside to avoid notice, hiding in the place where the nuns had, perhaps, laid Faith on a shelf, wrapped in her swaddling clothes. He would have known her, as he’d known me … Everyone has a color about them, he said simply. All around them, like a cloud. Yours is blue, madonna. Like the Virgin’s cloak. Like my own. One of his. The thought came out of nowhere, and I stiffened. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” What if—all right, I was insane, but too late for that to make a difference. “What if he—if I, we—what if Master Raymond is—was—somehow related to me?” Jamie said nothing, but I felt his hand move, under my hair. His middle finger folded down and the outer ones stood up straight, making the sign of the horns, against evil. “And what if he’s not?” he said dryly. He rolled me off him and turned toward me so we were face-to-face. The darkness was slowly fading and I could see his face, drawn with tiredness, touched with sorrow and tenderness, but still determined. “Even if everything ye’ve made yourself think was somehow true—and it’s not, Sassenach; ye ken it’s not—but if it were somehow true, it wouldna make any difference. The woman in Frances’s locket is dead now, and so is our Faith.” His words touched the raw place in my heart, and I nodded, tears welling. “I know,” I whispered. “I know, too,” he whispered, and held me while I wept.

24 Alarms by Night~GO TELL THE BEES THAT I AM GONE

[amnmesias]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

part one

SUMMARY: It's a brand new day at Black Dog Records, and Sirius fights with his inner turmoil about his feelings for you and Remus. Thankfully, Regulus helps out giving him a new perspective.

CW: unrequired poly!wolfstar, part two? remus fluff and once again sirius angst (and yearning). this could be read mostly as fluff, though it gets angsty at the end. fem!reader who wears makeup. sirius pov? background bartylus. minimal y/n use. no war au.

A/N: part two is up! i know i said it would take a while but after posting the first part i was weirdly very into it... this series is slowly taking shape i fear. though i only post it to have an outlet, likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3 enjoy! xx

-

“Oh, piss off with that nonsense.” 

You gasp. “You take that back right this moment, Sirius Black!” You get up from the worn out stool, your sparkly blue eyeshadow glistening under the lights. “If you’re not willing to see past the experimental essence of this record, Godric help me, I will ban you from this shop! I don’t care if you're the owner!”

Evidently, Sirius is not one to back down from a challenge, and riling you up has proved to be one of his favorite ones, and one with the most fructiferous outcomes. He leans back, staring at you and miserably failing at hiding his smile. 

“I see your point,” He starts, words slow and careful as to not annoy you before getting his point across. “Shine a Little Love, good album opener, Last Train to London? Great even, but I can’t help but feel like I’m listening to washed up disco.”

“Washed up disco!” The magazine in your hands is fully tossed aside. It seems a losing battle to not keep his smile in place, and you seem to notice as your eyes meticulously scan his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugs, picking up your now poor forgotten magazine. He looks up at you, “And you’re very predictable, love. You should know better than to take my opinions seriously this early in the morning.”

At this, you smile at him, snatching the magazine from his hand. “You’re lucky you’re my boss, or I would’ve stuck this up your arse one opinion ago.”

“Oi, I’m not your boss.”

“You’re not?”

“Not talking to you, Reg.” Sirius just barely manages to find strength to not roll his eyes at his brother, who surely, definitely, would stick the magazine up his arse. “Weren’t you on your break?”

“It’s barely 9:30.” Regulus sighs, like talking to Sirius seems to be an incredibly difficult task. 

“Well…” Sirius’ grey eyes travel over the shop, “Go shelve those away, or find something else to do and stop eavesdropping.”

“Sirius,” You chide, though Regulus only rolls his eyes and walks back into the storage room. Clearly not in the mood to put up with his brother’s antagonistic schemes. Just in time, a customer walks in. “Merlin, you really are insufferable.” You bite before turning to the young girl with a smile. “Good day!”

“Hi… Um, I was told you have the latest Electric Light Orchestra?” 

Sirius wishes he could quell the butterflies in his stomach at the sight of your wide smile at her question. You turn to him with a smirk and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Yes, in fact we do! Here,” You leave your place at the counter, the girl following you as you move through the rows of records. “Did you know that…”

He watches you go on about this and that, making points here and there that the girl clearly can’t follow or is too distracted to understand, but you won’t be deterred, and Sirius’ heart thrums in his chest, an ache that he has grown familiar with since that fateful morning at your flat. Neither you nor Remus seem aware that he was in your apartment that morning, and if you do, you seem very determined to act like nothing has changed between you both, either. He doesn’t get it, really. If he had either of you, he would make it the entire Wizengamot’s business. 

“What do you think, Sirius?” You ask, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts. He blinks, suddenly finding you and the girl in front of him. 

“Huh?” You’re watching him with a bemused eyebrow raise, the corners of your lips tugged in a sideways smirk that is starting to irritate him. “What do I think about what?”

“I said,” You start, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Discovery is probably their best work yet, don’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes.” He nods resolutely, the girl hugs the record closer to her chest, as if either of you have changed your minds and will take it away from her. “The very best.”

You smile, satisfied. “There you go. Only the very best brought to you by Black Dog Records.” He smiles and the girl seems very confused as she walks towards the door. “Thanks for coming! Have a lovely day!” You call out. “Yes! First sale on me, see that, Reggie?”

“That was awful.” Regulus, once again, drawls as he brings out the latest collection he found in Camden, ready to be sorted. “You will end up scaring every person away from this place.”

“This place puts food on your table, Reg. Be nice.” 

Regulus scoffs good-naturedly, evidently in a better mood than minutes ago. “Barty puts the food on my table, all I have to do is heat it and be a good boy.” He winks at you both.

Sirius grimaces. “Freak.” 

“You started it.” 

Black Dog Records is a somewhat popular record shop Sirius opened with the help of his uncle, first it was to make his family recoil with disgust at the use of the Black money in something as scandalous as music, but then it became his second home where he would find answers with his favorite songs. One very rainy day, he got into a very heated discussion with Regulus and, in very Sirius fashion, stormed off his own apartment to find distraction in a walk under the rain. He was feeling very pathetic and a little sorry for himself when he walked past the building, and something about it lured him in. He walked back home with a purpose, a detailed apology for his brother and an even more detailed business plan. The support from his group of friends and uncle was almost immediate, and soon he found himself with Regulus in front of the shop with their joint record collection and a very determined mission.

You came along somewhere in the middle of that, you were just about to quit your very monotonous and boring post at the Ministry when the shop officially opened. You would come nearly every day during noon with Marlene to spend your free hour and weekends chatting away with the Black brothers, eventually being mistaken as a worker whenever someone asked you for a specific artist or album. Sirius, and a very reluctant Regulus (obviously faked, he secretly worshiped the ground you walked on for helping Sirius at the lowest points of his life) talked over it consistently, and after much deliberation, you were hired as a part-time worker. It worked wonderfully because you seemed to have a big weight lifted out of your shoulders by the distraction and Sirius knew you would give his mummy dearest something close to a heart attack if she ever dared to set foot in the shop.

The bell chimes and you turn to greet the new customer, determined to claim the most sales of the day, but your smile widens as you spot Remus’ tall figure walking in, two plastic cups in his hands. 

“Hi, Remus!” You seem to debate whether to walk over to him, or hug him, you settle for a tiny wave. But your smile alone is a beautiful enough greeting. Remus decides that simply won’t do, and gives you a very friendly kiss on the crown of your hair. “Good morning.”

“Hiya, Moons.” Sirius says, channeling all his strength to appear nonchalant. “What brings you here, say, this early in the morning?”

“It’s barely 9:30.” Repeats Regulus, somewhere deep in the shop, still sorting through his box of records. 

“Yeah, whatever, what’s that saying?” 

Remus cocks an eyebrow as he passes you your own cup. “Semantics?” 

“Right!” He points, trying to look somewhere that wasn’t Remus’ lovestruck smile as you sip on your coffee. “Semantics. What are you doing here, again?”

“Wow, Pads… Is this how you treat all your customers? No wonder sales are so low lately.” He looks around, you nudge him with your elbow and his serious facade breaks in a smile. “Well, had it not been for dovey here…” He pulls you to his side, and you do everything to hide the blush in your cheeks.

“She sells because her selling strategy is holding customers hostage with facts until they buy the record.” Regulus points out, you roll your eyes good-naturedly at him. “I hardly think those sales count.”

“They absolutely bloody count!” You say, then turn to Sirius who had been shamelessly eyeing you and Remus, to his credit, you seem very confident in your point to notice it. “Sirius, tell your brother my sales are valid.”

He splutters, trying to ignore Remus’ curious eyes, but he recovers quickly. “Reg, just because you’re a creepy bloke and scare everyone into buying your weird albums, doesn’t mean (Y/N)’s tactic is less valid.”

“Thank you very much, Sirius,” You bow your head, Sirius’ smile is fighting full time to stay in place. “This is why you’re my favorite boss.”

“Oi, I’m telling Bagnold about this.”

“I don’t see why not, so she could give her a raise.” Remus points out, frowning at the thought of the endless stress induced nights they have been witness to. He gives your arm a playful squeeze, “In fact, I think we should appoint you as the new minister.”

You laughed loudly. “Oh, totally. My first order of business will be introducing muggle music to the Hogwarts education plan.” 

“Yes, that way we can scare mother away from Britain.” Regulus chuckles dryly, and Sirius claps.

“Well, I like the sound of that!” He turns to you, “Consider me your biggest sponsor.” 

“Insane. All of you.” You shake your head, your giggles making the three men smile. “Right, as much as I’d like to stay and plan my debut as a politician, Remus and I actually are going to muggle London.”

“You do?” Sirius echoes, suddenly acutely aware of your pretty clothes and even prettier make up. 

With a sinking feeling, he realizes you came all dolled up for your date with Remus and not for him. 

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll come early tomorrow and rearrange the entire country section.” You plead, unnecessary, in Sirius’ opinion, because you would ask him to kill an unicorn and he’d do it with no questions asked. “There’s this new band releasing their debut album and I promised Remus I would come with him. And before you say anything, I will bring a few copies to sell, please?”

Sirius’ brain barely registers your words, and nods mutely. Regulus rolls his eyes and pats his shoulder in consolation. “It’s alright, no need to torture yourself with the whole country section. I’m sure we will come up with a better punishment.” 

You smile and jump to kiss both boys’ cheeks and lean over the counter to take your bag. Sirius very pointedly tries to look everywhere but your pretty legs, he meets a worse fate, meeting Remus’ eyes. The boy sends him a wink and Sirius feels heat taking over his cheeks and neck.

“Ready to go?” You turn to Remus, who breaks eye contact with Sirius to smile down at you. He nods and you both wave before turning to the door. 

Sirius exhales deeply as he watches you both walk away through the window, Remus putting his arm around your shoulders to pull you towards him. Your kiss wonky as you smile up at him, giddiness and excitement in both of your faces. He watches until you get lost in the crowd and he can no longer see Remus over everyone’s head, he ignores the ache in his chest as he turns, only to meet a pair of grey eyes identical to his looking at him with something akin to pity.

“Stop looking at me like I’m the last dog at the shelter.” 

Regulus snorts, then raises his hands in surrender. “You said it, not me.”

“Don’t you have something else to do that isn’t giving unnecessary commentary about my love life?” 

“None of that is as entertaining, I don’t think…” He trails off, returning to his work. Sirius scowls at him.

“I’m glad my pain entertains you.”

“It is entertaining because it could’ve been easily avoided had you stopped being a daft git ages ago.” He nods towards the door, his eyes not leaving the sleeve in his hands as he inspects it meticulously. “That poor girl has been in love with you both since year 4 and you can’t really blame Remus for jumping at the chance of being with her after putting up with your mixed signals for years.”

“What?”

“Smart man, that Lupin. Sadly, I am a raging homosexual, otherwise I would’ve already swept that lovely girl away from you both.” He continues, ignoring the stammers coming from his brother’s mouth. He looks at Sirius, who in return stares at him with shock, “Please tell me you at least noticed.”

“How could I notice!?” He manages to get out, his heart probably one beat away from jumping out of his chest. “Not sure if you remember but Remus hated my guts for about two consecutive terms. And her, well… I really can’t blame her for supporting him, can’t I?” 

“Oh… so you are daft. Good to know, I had my suspicions but thank you for clearing it up.” 

“Reg, I’m not in the mood for your bloody mind games.”

The boy shakes his head, a disbelieving look in his eyes as he finally turns to Sirius.

“Mind games? If you want to talk about mind games let me just tell you, those… Those two have been victims of your mind games since school and you have been nothing but blind and insensitive towards their feelings, seeking their attention one day and turning a blind eye to their advances the next day,” Regulus says, ending each sentence with a point to Sirius’ chest, who frowns in return, “Don’t come here acting like a sodding cry baby just because you missed your chance. So please, do something about it or shut the fuck up already!” He exhales deeply, finally breathing properly, and bringing a hand to his hair. He steps back, looking at Sirius with a mix of shock and regret. “Sorry, don’t know what happened there.”

Sirius lets out a disbelieving breath, massaging his sternum, “Yeah, me neither. Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”

“Just…” Regulus sighs, realizing Sirius is in fact not going to take him seriously, at all. He moves away to take the now empty records box to the storage room. “Just think about it, please? Contrary to what you might think, I want you to be happy, or… at least not hurting, or whatever this is.” 

Sirius watches him go, something akin to despair in his heart as he ponders on what his brother told him. He looks back to the door you and Remus walked through minutes ago; maybe… maybe he still has some fight left in him. If you and Remus are willing to have him, he’s going to fight with every fiber of his body to give you the love you both desperately seeked with each other, all because he was emotionally unable to provide it for them. Regulus will eat his words, and everyone else, he’s going to love you so hard, Remus will finally feel loved enough to accept the wolf within himself, and you will finally learn what real, true love and devotion is, he will love you so hard you will forget all the pain you have gone through in the past. Right there, on a randomly sunny day, Sirius decides he will love you and Remus hard enough that his own scars will heal and leave no trace behind. 

[martiansodas-blog]

🎾 🤍💐✨🎀

standford!art who’s your best friend finds out no guy has ever hit your gspot before :(

“are you being serious?”

but it's so fuckin easy! he thinks

your cheeks get warm. you focus on the various hangnails you have instead of making eye contact.

“um...yeah.” you say quietly.

he immediately regrets having such a big reaction and scolds himself.

those rotten frat guys, they only care about one thing.

“hey, hey,” he touches your cheek and crouches a little so he's no longer towering over you. “i didn’t mean to embarrass you, sweetheart. it’s not your fault. they’re just inattentive."

“thanks.” you mutter with no expression in your voice.

he was too curious not to ask,

“have you ever found it by yourself?”

a laugh involuntary escaped.

“i’ve never tried.”

art fake pouts.

“you poor girl,” he coos, putting it on thick.

you scoff, but the heat in your cheeks only gets worse and you cant help but smile. he’s way too good at breaking your walls down, and he knew it

“i can show you, if you like.”

your body becomes unmoving.

"what?"

the most logical explanation you can think of is that he spoke a different language and it was lost in translation. because surely he wasn't offering what you think he was offering.

“what kind of friend would i be if i didn’t?”

he had that stupid smirk on his face.

“wait, you’re serious?? wha-”

he steps closer to you, close enough you can feel his body heat.

“we’ve always been closer than most friends, no?”

you shake your head.

“i mean, yeah, but that’s-“

his body goes stiff, eyebrows furrowed like that's the worst news you could've given him.

now he's the one shaking his head. his mostly blue eyes become fixed on the ground. he looked like a kicked puppy.

“that was a stupid idea. you're right. m'sorry. i don’t know why i brought it up."

he begins to walk off.

are you actually going to reject this offer from your insanely handsome best friend? half the girls at stanford would kill for this opportunity. and here it is, falling into your lap.

“wait!”

he wipes the smile off his face before turning around.

“yeah, uh… i’d like that.”

he breaks into a smile.

"really? i truly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

there's still a frown gracing his features.

"you didn't! you didn't. i was just caught off guard. that's all."

"...okay" he smirks slightly.

"okay."

another awkward silence presents itself. what should you-

"come over to my dorm at 8 tonight. that is of course unless you want to do it at yours and risk your roommate catching a free peep show."

his sudden confidence caught you off guard. he's giving you whiplash at this point.

"uh, no. no. yours is great."

who the hell can afford a private dorm as a sophomore?

oh right. tennis champions...

before he goes, he kisses you on the cheek. the first of many that would occur that day. his lips are the perfect proportion for his face and they feel like being touched by a pink cloud.

3 hours later

''FUCK, art, please"

"aww, i know baby. no one can treat you like i can."

its relentless. the entire time. the top half of him babys you while the bottom half tries to leave an imprint.

you didn't know your back could arch this much.

"are you gonna cry from how good it is? poor girl."

and you do. saltwater flows down your cheek and he wipes it off and cradles your head, showing you some mercy.

"you can do it, babygirl. you can give me one more, cant you?"

you nod fervently. it wasn't even about orgasming (of which you've done twice) anymore it was about making him happy.

"yes," you pant "ill come for you, artie, shit hnnn."

once you started babbling you couldn't stop. he thought it was adorable, honestly. he's never made a girl dumb on his cock this quickly. you really needed it.

you're gonna be so fun to play with. he thought.

he pecked your cheek while coaxing you through it.

"atta girl, make my cock all creamy for me. you can do it."

you feel every muscle, no. every atom in your body relaxes. and where your bodies met was so warm and slick and art might slip if he's not careful.

"there you go" he whispered into your neck. "so beautiful. such a good girl, im so proud of you. knew you could do it."

you think he is peppering kisses across your face and chest but you cant will your eyes to open yet and every inch of your skin is tingling.

your semiconsciousness works to his advantage because he loves resting inside you. he could fall asleep just like this but you probably wouldn't like that.

he strokes your hair and stares at you while you recover. he wants to let you fall asleep right away but knows that's not wise.

"c'mon, angel," he says softly as he scoops you up. "lets get you cleaned up."

[candyheartedchy]

I messed up a friendship I had with somebody here on tumblr [Not giving there @ out bc I don’t want them to get harassed] and I feel awful but I know it was my fault I drove them away how do you cope with emotions like these I miss my friend but I know it was me that drove them away.. do you use self-shipping to help with loss ?

Back when I was a kid, maybe around 6-7, I had a best friend who lived in the same neighborhood as me. We both even went to the same elementary and middle school together. But once we were teenagers, we both sorta grew apart and later when we met up again one last time as young adults, we didn’t really know how to interact with each other anymore. I still think about her every day since we didn’t leave on bad terms or anything. And then after moving to a different town I ended up isolating myself for a few years until 2020 and started this blog.

In a way I guess self shipping was a form of coping with being friendless during that time, along with other things.

The sad reality is that people will come and go, and sometimes we have to accept that change, no matter how painful it is. I would say try to reach out, but from my experience, because so much time had passed, it would just end up feeling awkward. But also I try to give folks space too, though I’m just naturally worried I’m bothering people in general whenever I message folks.

But if you and your friend mostly just stopped talking to each other and there wasn’t any fight or anything involved, you could reach out. Just take baby steps.

Again self shipping is a good outlet for many things, because I ended up making new friends through the self ship community and the fandoms I was self shipping in. I do hope you can rekindle your friendship again with the person. But also don’t try to force it either if it doesn’t happen. Be kind to yourself.

[actuallysaiyan]

Une Belle Histoire II(Mafia!Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, fluff, love confessions, tattoo mentions, abusive/neglectful parent, forced marriage, angst word count: 4.3k pairings: Mafia!Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: the bike ride is on after you find out your father will be gone for the weekend. Toshinori bares his soul to you, and you show him yours. after lovemaking and lots of time together, you two are inseparable. yet your father comes home with the news of you being betrothed to someone else, which hurts Toshinori completely. a/n: part 2 to this fic! banner art is from the lovely artist(freesilverwind)

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @sunflowers-heart,  @erebus-et-eigengrau, @pixelcafe-network

@thoraeth

You aren’t sure if Toshinori knew when your father was going away on a business trip or if it was just a perfect coincidence. You waited with bated breath all week to see him once more. Your pillows and sheets smelled of his beautiful cologne for what felt like ages. At night, you would hold onto your pillow and smell it. It was like Toshinori was here with you.

Soon, your father mentioned he was going to be out of town for the weekend. You would be mostly alone at home outside of the many people who make up the household staff. Though they would be there, it wasn’t like they took note of when you left and came home. Most of the time, it was mostly just your father who kept a close watch on you.

“Remember, I want you home at night. Be home before ten pm, could you?” Your father reminds you as he’s making his way out the door.

“Don’t worry, I will be. I don’t have anything important planned.” You fibbed as innocently as you could.

He smiles and ruffles your hair so softly. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll be home Monday morning, okay?”

You wave him off, watching as he gets into the car and it drives off. Something about this took a big weight off your shoulder. Considering you didn’t know how you were going to sneak out to meet Toshinori for the bike ride had your father still been home. But now, you could spend most of the weekend with the man who captured your heart.

All day, you were thinking about the bike ride. You had no way to contact him, so you weren’t sure if he’d come over late at night or maybe he’d be early tomorrow morning. You occupy your time with reading books and listening to music. Still, you’re almost jumping out of your seat every time you think he could be on your balcony.

It’s late at night when there’s a knock on the window. You get up from your bed and open the door. Toshinori stands there with a bouquet of wildflowers. He hands them to you and you can see a soft pink tinge on his cheeks. You take them in your hands and bring them to your nose. They smell so floral and so sweet.

“I saw them and they reminded me of you. I needed to bring you some.” He explains as you guide him into your bedroom.

You take one of them and place it between the pages of a book. “Thank you, Toshinori. They are so lovely.”

He sits on your bed, fidgeting with his hands. He seems a little nervous, but not necessarily in a bad way. Neither of you have seen each other since the last time he was in your room. You place the bouquet in a vase on your vanity table. You take the water from a water bottle and fill the vase. Then you join him on the bed.

“My father’s gone for the weekend.” You say with a sly grin.

His eyes widen. “Then…our bike ride is on! I was thinking, tomorrow morning? Would that be okay with you?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek. “That’s perfect.”

He smiles so sweetly. You can see a few marks on his face that would suggest he’s been in some scuffles in the last week. You tenderly caress his cheeks, which makes his heart race in his chest. You are so precious, and for you to see him like this and still want to love him, it’s an incredible feeling.

“Are you alright?” You whisper.

He laughs. “I’m fine, doll.” He takes your hands in his and presses kisses to your knuckles. “It’s nice to be cared about, though. It’s a different feeling.”

There’s a melancholic tone to his voice when he admits this. You do understand that feeling too in your own way. Your mother died when you were younger and you didn’t have any other siblings. Your father had been the only one to dote on you, but even he often claimed to be too busy. You spent your life raised by nannies and teachers.

“I care about you a lot,” you whisper once more.

This makes him pull you onto his lap. He kisses you softly on the cheeks, then your nose. Then he cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. You know that maybe he won’t always be the best with words, but he can clearly show you how he feels about you through his actions. When you pull away, you feel dizzy from how good that kiss was.

“I care about you a lot too,”

Toshinori then hugs you close, his hands rubbing up and down your back. The softness of your sweater makes him feel warm inside. You deserve pretty things. He’ll spend the rest of his life working his fingers to the bone if it means to bring you the most beautiful things this world has to offer.

Your hands are so soft on his rugged face. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and you can feel a little stubble under your fingers. He smiles genuinely as you caress his cheeks once more. Getting lost in your eyes was certainly the most enchanting and breathtaking experience for Toshinori. He would forever look into your beautiful eyes if he could get lost in the loving gaze.

“You’re precious,” he kisses you once more.

The two of you lay on your bed after he gets a bit more undressed. He lets you lay your head on his chest, playing with your hair. He tells you about where he’s going to take you tomorrow. There’s a little town nearby that he thinks you will find charming. It sounds really wonderful and you’re excited to go there.

“Stay the night?” You ask him.

He chuckles. “Only if you promise to sleep tonight.”

You nod and smile. “Promise!”

He holds you close, keeping you warm all night long. Toshinori even manages to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

The next morning, you wake up with Toshinori still clinging to you. His face is now pressed against your neck, and the soft tickle of his breath feels good on your skin. You gently run your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to each eyelid before you kiss his lips. The smile that spreads on his face is angelic. You wish to always wake up next to this beautiful man.

“Good morning, kitten.” His voice is raspy with sleep.

“Good morning.”

He snuggles closer, inhaling the smell of your scent. It’s like berries, flowers and soft blankets all wrapped up in one smell. It’s intoxicating in so many ways. He stays lucid though he wishes he could just spend the day in bed with you like this. Though, he knows he promises he will take you for that bike ride.

“Get dressed. I’ll climb down the way I came. I’ll meet you out front in twenty minutes.”

Toshinori gives you one more kiss before he leaves through the balcony door. You’re quick to get up, going to your vanity to begin getting ready. With your heart pounding in your chest from the excitement, you get dressed in something cute but also comfortable to wear.

And in twenty minutes, you’re out the door. You didn’t even have to tell anyone that you were leaving. The household staff was busy taking care of things inside. You did manage to leave a note for your maid, considering she would probably worry. You lied and said you were headed to a bookstore convention in the next town. 

You walk down the street and then you get a glimpse of Toshinori on his bike. He revs the engine in an attempt to show off before he parks it right next to you. You notice the saddlebags seem full. He then hands you a helmet that matches his.

“Put it on, kitten. Safety is important.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words. You put on the helmet and then you get on behind him. He instructs you to hold onto him tightly, which you do. Slowly, he begins to take off. The air on your body feels divine as he picks up more speed.

On the highway, you begin to feel even more liberated. This was the first time you were on a motorcycle. This is the first time you even do anything remotely close to this. With excitement, you let out a squeal of happiness. Toshi looks back at you and he can see how happy you are.

“Put your hands up, I’ll go slow.” He instructs.

Though you’re nervous, you go ahead and do as he says. You put your hands up and Toshi takes more controlled movements as the bike moves down the road. You feel like a bird in flight; completely free and in your own element. Soon, you wrap your arms around Toshinori once more and he speeds up. You feel like your life has just begun today. It’s the first time that you are who you want to be.

Once you two approach the town, he slows down and parks at the viewpoint. The two of you look down at the town and just bask in the beauty of this scenic place. It’s gorgeous and you can’t wait to go visit and see everything that’s in store.

Slowly, you two make your way into town. Toshinori finds a garage to park his bike and he pays for the place handsomely. You like that he doesn’t often flaunt his wealth, but that he enjoys spending money when he can. You notice the way he tips the garage workers too and chats with them for a few minutes.

Then he’s taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The town is charming and cute. Local businesses line the street. The scent of fresh baked bread permeates the air and people walk around smiling and waving at one another. You wonder what it means to be in a community where people seem to be comfortable with each other.

The first place Toshinori guides you into is a cute cafe. The smell of coffee and bread is strong here. You walk up to the counter and look up at the menu. Toshinori leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Order anything you want, kitten. It’s my treat.”

You smile and begin to look at the selection of baked goods on the display rack. Everything looks so good. Chocolate chip muffins with crystals of sugar, oatmeal cookies with dark raisins dotting them, buttery croissants that are calling your name, almandines that seem to be just wanting to be devoured. You pick a few things, considering you just can’t pick one and an americano to drink. 

Toshinori guides you to a table that faces a window. The sun is shining beautifully. With the light illuminating you, he thinks you look just like an angel. The two of you dig into your breakfast, chatting a little bit and breaking the ice between one another even more.

“Have you ever been on a date, kitten?”

You blush and take a sip of your coffee. “Well, I’ve never actually been asked on a date. My father often organizes dates with his ‘supposed’ suitors for me.”

A look of disgust and jealousy flashes over his features. “None of them could treat you to something as precious as this,”

You giggle. “No, of course not. You’ve made me feel more alive than anyone ever has.”

This makes his heart clench. You were just like a caged bird. He hates the thought of you never being able to make your own choices or you never getting to pick what you think is right for you. No matter what happens next, Toshinori swears he’s going to treat you correctly and always let you have a choice in the matter.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

Your day is filled with checking out all the little boutiques in town. Toshinori surprises you with his vast knowledge of history, mechanical jargon and of course, his charm. He’s charming to everyone. He helps keep the door open for the little old ladies who come into the cafe after you both leave. He grabs something off the top shelf for a little kid. And he’s so sweet to everyone you see on the street.

Every single boutique has something that brings you both together and you get to show each other your interests and likes. Toshinori spends lots of time listening to you and understanding what’s going on with you. He looks you in the eyes when you speak. His stare is very intense, but it makes you feel good to know that he’s truly listening. He’s very much into touching you as well; a hand on the small of your back, his fingers soothing over your own before intertwining them, gently nudging you to show you something interesting.

By the time the sun is setting in the sky, Toshinori grabs a few things from the saddlebag and then he guides you to a beautiful public garden. You can tell this must be a very popular place for lovers as there are many couples walking hand in hand as they appreciate the sunset.

He guides you somewhere a little more secluded from the rest. He lays the blanket down on the ground and shows you the picnic basket. As the two of you feed each other fancy cheeses, cold meats from Europe and sip on champagne, you and Toshinori get to know each other even more. Though you two come from different worlds, you feel like you’re each other’s true soulmate.

The sun sets completely and you two are the only two in the park. Toshinori pulls you closer and he cups your cheeks. He looks deeply in your eyes and kisses you softly.

“Today has reminded me that there is still so much good in this world,” he whispers against your lips.

“And I was reminded that there are things in this world outside my bedroom walls,” you say.

He holds you close to him, and you hear him humming something sweetly. He rubs your back, keeping you close. You can hear his heartbeat and it soothes you like nothing else has or ever will. Then he kisses you again; this time his kiss is more hungry and more passionate.

You cling to his shirt as he slides his tongue into your mouth. Immediately your body feels warm and need pools inside of you. You try not to make it too apparent, but with all the cuddling and kissing you’ve been doing, you’ve certainly grown aroused. You’re a virgin, but you know what sex is.

Toshinori pushes you down onto the blanket, hovering on top of you. He smirks when he sees how red your cheeks are and how your pupils are blown wide open. He can read you like a book, knowing just what to do to make you feel even more needy for him.

He leans in to kiss your neck, holding you close to himself. The more he nips at the sensitive skin, the more you begin to spread your legs to allow him to slot himself between them more properly. He helps you get into a comfortable position before he begins to unbutton your sweater. Then he pulls it off slowly, pushing your t-shirt up over your breasts.

“Oh,” he says with a smirk. “Look at your beautiful tits, kitten.”

He nips and bites at the swell of your breasts as they spill out from the top of your bra. You whine so sweetly, it makes his cock throb in his pants. He knows he needs to take it slowly, but dammit you’re so fucking beautiful. What shakes him from his thoughts is when you reach down to begin palming him through his jeans. 

Toshinori grunts. “Kitten,” 

“You like that? I know I’m not very experienced but—”

He cuts you off with another kiss. This is very hungry and sloppy. His tongue glides against yours, wrestling and tangling. When you pull away, there’s a string of saliva keeping you both connected. Toshinori helps you out of your pants and pushes your panties down. You feel self-conscious and try to hide your body.

“No, no no…” He kisses you tenderly. “Doll, please don’t hide from me.”

He gently pulls your hands from your body and his eyes widen. He bites his lip seductively, grunting at how gorgeous you are. He begins to take off his clothes. When the shirt comes off, you get a better look at his tattoos. Your hands soothe over them, looking at the many patterns. On his arms and going down his back are some flowers, waves and many black geometric shapes that arrange in a specific pattern.

“You like ‘em?” he asks.

You nod. “They are beautiful!”

The smile that spreads on his face is genuine. Nobody has ever called his tattoos beautiful before. They were a symbol of who he was; part of the mafia, part of a dangerous family. The fact that you love them so much makes him feel like a million dollars…no, it makes him feel like a human capable of love and being loved.

He captures your lips in another kiss before he kisses down your body. You let out cute little moans as his tongue swirls over one nipple, then the other. He suckles on the little nub as his large hand slips between your thighs. You eagerly allow him access to your core. You’re already dripping wet from almost nothing.

“Pretty kitten,” he murmurs against your breasts.

Slowly, he pushes one of his fingers into your pussy. It opens up for him, sucking the digit in. He continues his assault on your nipples as he works you towards your first orgasm. With your toes curled in your shoes and your back arching off the picnic blanket, you come undone so beautifully in front of his eyes.

Toshinori works you towards a few more orgasms before he pulls away completely. Then he pulls his pants down and his boxers. His cock sits heavily on your mound as he kisses you deeply. You feel him using the tip of his cock to spread your slick all over your folds and clit. Then with gentleness, he pushes into you.

You gasp and cling to him as he begins sliding even more of himself into you. You can’t believe this is how good it feels. You feel full but so good. Then when he bottoms out, you two look into each other’s eyes. He smiles softly.

“You’re my woman now,”

The words float through your mind as he begins to pump his hips. He’s eager but he continues to keep things slow for you. It’s only when you wrap your legs around him and beg him to go faster, deeper, that he begins to pound into you. Soon, you’re feeling the familiar coil in your belly.

“Toshinori,” you whine so softly. “I’m gonna cum again.”

With a soft cry and your nails digging into his back, you fall off the edge blissfully. Toshinori is not far behind you, spilling into you with a grunt of your name and his hips snapping violently.

He pulls out of you, pulling you to his chest. Toshinori presses kisses all over your face before he captures your lips with his own. It’s a silent promise that he will continue to love you for as long as you’ll have him.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

You two return late at night, high on the feelings of a new blissful love. Toshinori spends the entire weekend with you, making love and finding out new things about one another. It couldn’t get any better than this. It’s so perfect and though you know it’ll end, things will continue to get better now that you have Toshinori in your life.

By the time Sunday night rolls around, you feel sad and empty inside. Toshinori holds you and tries his best to calm you and comfort you. You cling to him a little harder as he pumps himself into you harder and deeper. Your kisses are needier, and they are begging him ‘don’t leave me’. He cums deep inside of you once more, holding you so close.

“I won’t leave you,” he whispers as you rest on his chest.

“I’m so scared to wake up tomorrow and you won’t be here and none of this happened.”

Toshinori grabs a marker from your bedside table. He gets you to rest on his chest once more than he begins to draw something on your shoulder. When you look into the mirror, you see that he drew a series of little hearts surrounding a big heart that has his name in it.

“That’s my promise to you that you won’t be forgotten. And when we meet up again, which will be soon, I’ll have something even better than just a drawing.”

He kisses you again and lulls you to sleep. Though he knows he’d do anything for you, he’s wracking his brain to figure out how he’s going to approach your father with this. Though Toshinori knows he could just steal you away and there wasn’t much your father could do, he wants to do this right.

You’re the first person in a long time who’s shown him that he can be someone worthy of love. You’re the first person who sees him for who he actually is and not just this caricature of himself. You see him, see deep into his heart, and you love him for everything. The good, the bad, the ugly…in your eyes, it’s all worthy of love.

You sleep less than peacefully and when you wake up, you are alone. You know it’s to be safe for now, but you really hate it. You want him to be right next to you. With a lack of confidence, you get ready for the day and to greet your own father. You find the note on your vanity table.

Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll see you really soon. You are my woman now and that’s for life.

Xxx

T

Ps. keep your balcony door open and that gives me access to your room at night.

Once you’re dressed and have the letter properly hidden, you make your way down the stairs. You hear voices coming from the dining room. You shyly make your way over and see your father talking to a woman, a man and a younger man that seems to be your age. Your father smiles happily when he sees you.

“There you are, dear. Come have brunch with us.”

On the table is a spread of baked goods, eggs cooked in various ways, fancy spreads for bread and flutes of mimosas. You shyly sit next to your father. He introduces you to the family who sits across from you. The young man smiles at you, but it just doesn’t feel genuine. It’s not like Toshinori’s smile at all.

“Dear, I’m happy you’re here to meet the family.”

You look curiously at your father. He then explains how the young man was your betrothed. As much as you try not to let the shock show on your face, everyone is asking you if you’re okay. You nod and choke back some tears, taking a sip of the mimosa.

“I’ve been good friends with them for a long time and their son is the perfect age. You two used to be friends when you were children.” Your father explains.

“Yes, father. I understand.”

As the brunch comes to a close, the young man who’s now supposed to be your fiance kisses your hand. Your stomach is in knots as you try to play nice with him. And for the rest of the day, this eats at you even though you work through making sure you don’t seem suspicious.

That night, Toshinori returns to your room. He’s quieter this time, and immediately picks up on your bad mood. He tries to hold you, but you push him off of you.

“It’s over,” you spit at him.

He shakes his head. “Nonsense, doll. You’re my woman now, how many times do I have to tell you?”

You look at him with tears in your eyes. “My dad’s marrying me off to some rich kid.”

This hits Toshinori right in the heart. He was wealthy too. Sure, he wasn’t from the best family, but they still managed to gain respect with everyone around them…except from your father.

“And you’re just going to let him do it?” He demands to know.

“What else can I do? I can’t just tell him…”

“Tell him what?! That you’re mine now? I can provide for you. I make you happy. You make me happy!”

Your heart is breaking as you look at the man you adore. The man who you’d much rather fall even deeper in love with. With a tissue, you dry off your tears.

“I can’t do anything about it. When he makes a decision, it’s set in stone.”

Toshinori can’t believe he’s hearing this. He thought he was able to get you to come out of your shell and make you see that you could make decisions for yourself. You deserve that much, considering you’ve been a caged bird your entire life.

“If that’s how you see it, then you don’t need me anymore.”

His words cut deep and you turn to try and apologize, but he’s already leaving your room. You cry out for him, and this is what alerts your father to what’s going on. He comes barging into your room, grabbing onto you.

“I don’t ever want to see you with that man again, do you understand me?!”

With a broken heart, you sit on your bed and watch as your father puts deadbolts on your balcony door. Once again, a bird in her cage. A bird with her wings clipped…

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[ellie-s-list]

Forget Me Not

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Ah... I have not written anything on this blog for two years. It's weird that the last thing I posted was an Ellie Williams one shot since I started with Anime and MHA. However, I don't think the writing was actually bad.

And now I'm back with a Spencer Reid one-shot.

Authors Note: HIGHLY self-indulgent. I do not care. I'm writing what I want to read and maybe, just maybe, using these characters to try to heal inner trauma. If you say or have any criticisms I'm open but do not attack the obvious signs of mental health issues in this one shot. It's me. It's a self-insert. I'M NOT SORRY. But I am, please like it, and I hope that if anyone feels the same way I do that you one day find peace.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, rumination, mentions of self-deprecating thoughts, past trauma, and over all the reader has poor view of self and a poor outlook on life. Mentions parts of Avoidant Personality Disorder, shows that within the text.

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Powder blue in color, star in shape, and yellow centered. These flowers are known as Forget Me Nots, known for the meaning of true love and respect, representing a promise of remembrance from the giver. It’s not like you don’t think you would ever get flowers in such a way, but you also know that a random person, or anyone, most likely wouldn’t gift you these flowers. 

What about you doesn’t attract people? People who want to be with you, who can accept the way you act, react, what you like to do in your free time. It’s not easy to be open-minded in a close-minded world. Everyone tells other how to think, how to react, or they try to tell them how to react. 

Love sucks, unconditional love is worse. And reading the poem If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda is like a knife to the gut, and with each line read, another twist is added to the blade. 

I want you to know one thing.

You know how this is:             if I look              at the crystal moon, at the red branch              of the slow autumn at my window,             if I touch              near the fire             the impalpable ash             or the wrinkled body of the log             everything carries me to you             as if everything that exists,             aromas, light, metals             were little boats             that sail             toward those isles of yours that wait for me

Those lines sound like a Hozier song. One of longing, crawling back to a person that you know you love, hoping to be loved back. It reminded you of customers that are regulars at your bookstore. A small little thing in the corner of Quantico Virginia, filled top to bottom with books, plants by the big windows, and homey, used furniture. 

It was Tuesday, and as usual, a slow day. Tuesdays were slow for a multitude of reasons, mostly because there’s less travel in town, around town, and the fact that school is out for the winter season. College students returned home, giving you time to restock on textbooks or notebooks, journals, and planners that usually sell out when a new semester rolled around. 

But another thing always happened on Tuesdays. At least, most of the time. 

You were on your phone, staring at the lines of the poem once again when the bell on the door rings. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you huff and look up from the table where the register was, having leant on it to read from your phone. Every Tuesday, usually, at five in the evening, an hour before close, Dr. Spencer Reid would visit your store. 

Thanks to him, your stock of books in other languages got bigger. Mostly by request, since you knew how to order directly from the source and the fact that it was a homey space. You even got a coffee pot for you small store just for him. 

“Dr. Reid,” You smiled at him as he walked up to the register. 

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m here when you’re about to close,” He presses his lips together, adjusting his messenger bag. He got a haircut, you note, realizing that his length in hair changed to a shorter, more boyish look. 

“As always, I have an hour left,” You reply. Spencer shrugs, tapping the table with his index fingers. 

“Well… would it be too late to ask you if you’d like some coffee?” He asked, voice soft as he stared down at the table. 

“I can brew you a pot—”

“No, I mean, after you close. We can go somewhere,” He replies quickly, cutting you off. 

Silence enveloped the small shop as you looked at him, then back down at the dark screen of your phone, where Pablo Neruda’s poem resided. 

Well, now,              if little by little you stop loving me             I shall stop loving you little by little

If suddenly             you forget me             do not look for me,             for I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad,             the wind of banners             that passes through my life,             and you decide             to leave me at the shore             of the heart where I have roots,             remember             that on that day,              at that hour,             I shall lift my arms             and my roots will set off             to seek another land

A few months pass after the coffee date. It was nice, knowing that Spencer actually liked you for you. Nothing seemed to phase him. Not your lifestyle, not the melancholic thoughts you got, not the way you obsess over your favorite forms of media. Nothing scared him away from you. 

Spencer liked everything about you.

Or so he says. 

You can’t help staring down at your phone, sitting alone on the couch in his apartment. He had only left you for a moment as you look at the same poem that you had the day he asked you out for the first time. What if he got bored of you? Forgot about you? Yeah, sure, he has an eidetic memory, but it’s easy to forget for a while. 

He may not forget the way you looked when you laughed, your smile, the glint in your eyes when you got excited, but he could stop caring about those things. That’s what scared you the most. Knowing that you were easily forgettable. Hell, you were forgotten your whole childhood, it’s not like Spencer couldn’t jump on the same train your family did. 

It would be easy for him. To forget you. What about you was memorable? Your true worth was only connected to the way people used you. 

But Spencer states that he doesn’t want to use you, a small voice in the back of your head shot back, pushing through the anxious thoughts and the onset rumination that was starting to build. He had figured you out easily, a perk of like a profiler you guess. But it made being with him annoying to you. You liked privacy, but he liked knowing how to make you comfortable. 

Was it always so hard to like someone? To fear that they will hurt you one day. Knowing that they will, that one day they will fit the pattern of everyone who’s hurt you before. 

The door to the bathroom opened and you turned your head, clicking off your phone screen and pasting a fake smile on your face. Spencer was wiping his hands on a towel, raising his eyebrows at you. However, before you could get one word out, he was walking over to the couch, a knowing look on his face. 

“I’m not going to hurt you like the others did,” Spencer said almost immediately. 

Liar, you thought. 

“I know,” You say instead and he frowned, knowing that you were lying, but not pushing you. 

You knew you would have to leave him first, before he would ever have that chance to hurt you. But it hurt already, knowing that you would have to hurt him. So, you endure the anxiety of knowing those patterns, just to try to sit with him and enjoy what little time you allowed yourself to have. 

But             if each day             each hour,             you feel that you are destined for me             with implacable sweetness,             if each day a flower             climbs up to your lips to seek me,             ah my love, ah my own,             in me all that fire is repeated,             in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,             my love feeds on your love, beloved,              and as long as you live it will be in your arms             without leaving mine.

Three more months later and you sat in his bathroom, the door locked, your arms shaking as you leaned over the sink, trying to quell the rising panic in your chest. But you couldn’t. He was sitting in his bedroom, after having told you he loved you for the first time. 

You couldn’t say it back. You tried. But all you could do was open your mouth and close it, fear flashing over your face. And before you knew it, you had stood up and left him sitting there, watching you as you ran into his bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.

It hurt, knowing that you loved him back and yet you couldn’t say it back. It was wrong with you. Something that hurt, hurt more than the constriction of anxiety around your heart, gripping it with such force that it hurt to breathe. The pain in your chest, in your gut, the twist of each anxious thought, of each piece of truth that you weaved for yourself, and the knowledge that you needed to leave. 

Hot tears fell from your eyes, large drops finally streaming down your cheeks. 

And a knock on the door. You flinched at the tentative sound, the perpetrator obviously nervous. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice called out softly. “I-I know this is hard for you, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you.” He was begging. Not truly begging with words, but with his tone for you to understand him. 

How could you tell him that it was the fact that you loved him back that was causing this? You didn’t know how, but you knew that by the blurring of your vision that you were crying even harder. Barely any noise but choked gasps left you, your body trying to get air into your lungs as you held your breath from the fear of everything crashing down. 

“Can you open the door?” Spencer’s voice was quiet, meek. He was begging his time. 

Slowly, with all your strength, you turned the short distance and shakily unlocked it. That was all you could do before you sat on the floor and backed up until your lower back hit the bathtub. Your knees hit your chest, and you hugged them tightly, pressing your forehead into your knees. 

The door slowly opened but didn’t shut. He was giving you a way out if you needed it. It was obvious. Soft footsteps inched towards you and stopped just in front of your shaking body.

“You don’t have to say it back,” He whispered. 

It took a while for you to be able to regulate your breathing and emotions. Slowly, you managed to uncoil your body just enough to peek up at him. Spencer was crouched in front of you, his eyes facing down, hands clasped in front of his own knees. 

“I—” You hiccupped, flinching as he looked up at you. You forced yourself to keep talking, “I love you.” You finally whispered, his eyes widening before he schooled his expression. 

“I know that already, that’s why you didn’t have to say it back,” He leaned forward, gently rubbing the knuckles on one of the hands gripping your knees. “I’m not going to abandon you or hurt you that way you had been hurt in the past. You’re…” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he licked his lips, glancing down and then back up at you with glistening eyes. “You won’t believe me, but I don’t care how many times I will have to say it to get past your traumatic past, to get past the words of those who hurt you in the past.” He squeezed the hand he managed to pry from your knees. “I love you, and I’m not just going to leave.” 

Was it the wind that blew through the trees or the singing of birds that caught your eye? Or was it the first time that you had a partner on Valentine’s Day that kept your thought’s light, now able to appreciate the little things this life had to offer you. 

Maybe, it was Spencer. Spencer and the bouquet of flowers he held out to you, on the other side of the register in your empty bookstore. 

It wasn’t a Tuesday. 

But that didn’t matter. 

Forget Me Nots adorned your living room that night in a pale yellow vase. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Word Count: 1,991

Posted one: 1/25/2025

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY CONTENT POSTED BY OTHERS UNLESS SHARED ON TUMBLR THROUGH REPOSTING MY ORIGINAL WORK. DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR AI TRAINING.

References:

Neruda, P. (n.d.). If You Forget Me. allpoetry.com. https://allpoetry.com/if-you-forget-me

[nordicfiord]

Do you have any other dynamics between the voices that you like,besides Cold and Contrarian?

Love your art,by the way,especially Contrarian!I love how soft and puffy he looks!

Ohhh, thanks for the question! And thanks for the kind words!! Have another Contrarian – he is pretty sure his friendship with anyone would be good!

it also would consist of bullying half the time but if everyone is content that it can lead to some of the best friendships out there!

And now… IT’S RUMBLING TIME!!

tldr: I am semi-interested in most dynamics, but am currently obsessed with just one. Crossovers and AUs make dynamics more fun for me to think about because of backgrounds.

So! Voices, huh? What a wild bunch.

I love those little guys. I love that mostly here at the stp fandom we are just interpreting them through our own lenses of understanding – through our own perspectives. It is very fitting, and it allows all of us to view these dynamics in many, many different situations.

Honestly, my brain is a mess. It is a giant cauldron, where everything at once is boiling and twisting and turning. That’s why everything is mixing up into lots of crossovers and weird ideas. 

Can I say that I like voices dynamics in canon? Sure! I like that one Adv-Fury route with Stubborn and Contrarian having the “I may not have a brain, gentlemen, but I have an idea” moment. I like that Hero tried to stand up for us in Cage and Paranoid helped Skeptic to insist on his solution by “physically” restraining him?? What a power move. Pretty much every interaction between voices is something interesting to think about, honestly.

But, uhh…

My brain just chose two random clowns and said “Them. I wanna rotate them.”

Honestly I don’t even know why he (my brain) did it. Maybe he just projected my favourite dynamic (clown and clown enabler). But I like other dynamics too??? Why not them???

Genuinely don’t know.

BUT!

Remember I talked about AUs, crossovers and stuff? Those are bigger dollhouses for my brain. There he can assign some dynamics to characters and watch them unfold.

Examples? Sure!

Skeptic being “the mom friend”. Originally it went from the need to have anyone that could control ContraColdChaos. But when I thought about putting voices in my old Steven Universe AU (I will talk about it here I swear it is just too much to unpack….), it all just made so much more sense. Because there Skeptic was the one responsible for revolution and leaving their home world, ended up on an unknown planet with some very troubled teammates (traumatised disabled leader, “I-died-so-many-times-I-can’t-be-stable” general, repeated killer of said general, army refugee and a high-quality spy) and he HAD to take responsibility and make sure nobody dies. Also that created a very interesting dynamic with Hero, because Hero is basically a young abused ruler who doesn’t believe he has any autonomy… and here Skeptic is, his subordinate, who literally is making all the decisions. Like, it’s clear that Skeptic cares and wants the best for Hero… but he is pretty much adding to a family emotional neglect.

And there’s more. Opportunist feeling like he owes Smitten for saving his life. Cold and Skeptic trying to process that they’ve killed and revived the very same person. Smitten being this person and trying to live a normal life with his murderer and resurrector in the same home.

I guess I just… Can’t operate inside of the canon universe with the little outside influence there is?

Maybe in my head-universe, when TLQ left, he left the voices a big fun playground, where they can put various masks and play many, many different stories. They need something to occupy their “forever” too, after all.

Anyway thanks if you’ve read this far!! I appreciate it, really. Sorry if it’s not uhh… organized? Like I said, my mind really is a mess, haha.

Have a nice day everyday!~

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much mutual pining and longing, not sharing feelings. This chap- making out, masturbation (toru hehe), teasing and some very kinky ass thoughts, but mostly TENSION. Eventually - Explicit sex, oral sex, it's me so a breed kink. Gonna be a miniseries, Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad. WC this Part- 7.5k

Songs for this part - Lose Contol // My Boo // Friends

This was supposed to be a oneshot but it's going WAY too long, so I'm separating it into three parts! (Also ty for 5k hehe) Comments and reblogs appreciated <3

Part one

“You love me, right?”

You blink a bit, as you stare at Satoru Gojo, he’s been your best friend all throughout high school and even before you’ve known him. You’re sitting across from him, while he’s sipping boba with you, his Gucci shades perched on the bridge of that straight nose, a smirk on his glossy lips. You tilt your head curiously at him, of course you love Satoru, but he only pulls this when he needs a favor.

“What’d you get into this time, Toru?” You demand, he gasps then, affronted, a hand to his chest.

“Excuse me, missy? I’m just asking if you love me.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your seat in the little cafe. “Of course, you know I love your goofy ass.”

 Satoru takes off his glasses, those swirling blue eyes wrecking you as they have all these years, usually you can put up enough of a barrier not to let them consume you, but apparently you haven’t today. You watch those snowy lashes lower when his eyes bore into you, swirling storms of bright blue, you have to snap yourself out of it.

Being Satoru Gojo’s best friend wasn’t for the weak.

“How much you love me, hmm?”

“What is it you need, an alibi?” He snorts then, shaking his head and wrapping his lips around the straw.

“M’not Suguru, shit… no, I need a really big favor. Like… the biggest favor, but if you agree, I can really make it worth your while.”

“Okay this isn’t a mobster movie, Toru, what is it?” Satoru looks down then, long fingers swirling around the top of his cup, before his eyes snap back to yours.

“What if I said I’d help you with all that student loan debt, and buy you a shiny brand new car?”

“Satoru, I don’t want your money, I do fine okay?”

“Your car is old enough to drink.”

“Fuck off!” Your glare makes him snort in laughter. “It is not, it’s like… not even old enough to vote… I don’t think.”

“It’s old, sweets. Say you also had a place to stay, for free?”

“Satoru this isn’t Pretty Woman-”

“I love that movie!”

“Satoru! What are you getting at!?” You’re crossing your arms then, raising a brow at the lanky man across from you, whose legs are spread wide in his dark blue dress pants, he’s pulling just a bit at his silky black tie.

Satoru has taken a huge role recently in his family business, the conglomerate that owned a million different things, you know how much he detests it, but once Satoru graduated college his family pushed it more and more. At this point he was thriving, doing most of the work with his father taking much more of a back seat, his health starting to deteriorate.

You and Gojo spend more time together than ever, you know he needs his friend, especially with Suguru having left for some time, the two of them not together was always hard on him. You’d been friends with both of them, but Suguru seems to have left and found his own calling, swinging through to see you both from time to time, but much is different since those days at Tokyo high.

Not you and Satoru though.

For the longest time you pined away for him, but you never made that move, aside from one stolen kiss in a closet during seven minutes in heaven, and Satoru had it bad for you all of Junior and Senior year, but the two of you never risked it, your friendship. And now you’re glad to have him in your life, but it’s hard to even think of someone serious when he’s so brightly and firmly in your life.

“This is a huge favor I need, it’s… a lot to ask.” Satoru murmurs softly, you tense a bit, brows drawing together.

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” Your voice is a low hum as you murmur, he nods just a bit.

“Yeah it’s fine just… I’m being forced to choose a bride, and they have many candidates.” He laughs humorlessly, and your heart breaks for him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Satoru. I thought you’d have longer?”

“Yeah, I wish.” He runs a hand through his silky white locks, looking down for a moment, lips that always smirk or maybe pout actually frowning. “I need to just get it done, get em off my ass.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, why not tell em to fuck themselves, hmm? Where’s my Toru!?”

“He’s exhausted.” He swipes a hand across his face, and you lean closer, hand on his leg, his eyes sliding back to yours.

“Do you want me to help find someone? I have a lot of good friends in high families… find you someone not money hungry, not a psycho? How much time do you even have?”

“That’s not what I'm asking.” He puts his big hand over yours now, sighing, leaning closer to you. “I’m asking if you want to.”

“If I want to, what exactly?”

“Marry me?”

“What!?” He chuckles then, but even that sound is exhausted.

“You forget you’re from a top family, nah it’s not the Gojo clan but…”

“Satoru…”

“Just for like a bit? To get em to leave me alone, let me gain some more power. All for show, and I’ll help you with anything, I promise.” He’s clutching your hand, and suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning.

“Wh-why me? We… you… I…”

“You’re my best friend, it would be like being roommates damn near. You could… do your thing as long as you’re discrete.” He murmurs, you want to laugh then, as if you’ve done anything in a couple of years now. “And I would be discrete, respectful, we’d just be in name, appearance. We’re best friends, it will be a piece of cake, and most of all… I trust you.”

You try to digest all the information, blinking and trying not to think the insane thoughts that come with it, but you fail. “But won’t they want… an heir?”

Satoru’s cheeks flush bright pink now. “We don’t need to… I’d never ask you to do that, ever I swear. I’d never be an ass like that.”

You feel your heart racing as you shove back all of the images you should not have for your friend. “I know, I know. But… they’d-”

“That’s the thing, a year or so and they’ll back off. Give me time to fix some mistakes, with dad being sick… I’m not saying I won’t miss him, but how he is running shit? No, I know I can make things better, take down these shitty higher ups who are so greedy. You just could give me more time, and I promise I’ll do anything I can to help you too.”

“It’s insane, this is marriage!” You blink a bit, shifting, his hand now brushing back a lock of hair from your forehead, a familiar gesture that now takes on something more intimate.

“It can just be for show, we’ll be the same best friends as always. I have no one I can imagine even living with but you, maybe Suguru but… he’s not a girl.”

“He has that long silky hair?” You both laugh a little, softly then.

“He sure does, but… you’re prettier to look at.”

“Flattery? Stop that. It’s insane, and… how would we even explain it in such a rush?”

“We’ve been friends forever. Who wouldn’t believe that we got together? It’s even easier. I mean, maybe a couple kisses and things for show, but… you’ve kissed me before, remember?” He’s grinning wide then, you shove at him playfully. “That closet was cramped, hmm?”

“Oh shut it, that was so long ago. I mean, if you really need me, you know I’ll do this for you. I don’t expect you to go all out on anything for me in return.” Satoru pauses now, watching how the light streaming in through the large cafe windows hits your pretty face, as you explain to him that you’d want nothing in return for this!? For this huge imposition on your life.

You have always been the sweetest, best friend he has had, so important to him he’s never dared to cross that line, and he knows it will tempt him to no end to do this, but he also knows he can trust you. “Let me just take care of a few things for you, you can almost see it as a job. There will be events, meetings with the other leaders, trust me. Like anything I can do, you’ll be helping me so much.”

“Alright.”

“What!?”

He’s hugging you tightly to him, you giggle a bit, breathless. “Yeah, I’ll do it… I need a nice car though, Toru. A BMW?”

“I’ll get you ten BMWs.”

“Jesus, no. Silly boy.” You giggle as you look up at him, your best friend, but then your heart falters when he’s just a bit too close.

“Should we practice kissing now?” He teases, voice husky.

“Satoru, you're insufferable.”

He pouts now, and you swallow down the fact that you don’t know if you can even handle kissing his lips. “Aww you’re still such a brat, since middle school.”

“You’re the brat here.”

“Meanie.” You both stick your tongues out, and when he’s walking you over to your shitty car, he wraps you in a big hug in his strong arms, making you melt against him. “Mwah, mwah, mwah you’re the best friend ever.”

“Oh, stop.” He’s smacking kisses on your head as you inhale his cologne, sighing as you contemplate just what the fuck you’re doing. “When do we do this?” You ask, pulling back a bit and looking up at him.

“I can have things going in a couple weeks, something super simple, like I said we’ll just live our lives, just be friends, it’ll be fine. Like a really long sleepover, hmm?” He teases, grinning now, putting back on his shades.

You figure, what’s it hurt? Your apartment is shitty, your car is old, Gojo is your best friend, and you’re down to help him avoid a miserable marriage for as long as he can. You nod then, smiling. “A long sleepover.”

One week of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend

Satoru Gojo thought he would control himself decently living with you, considering how many times you’ve slept over, how many movies you both have crashed out on the couch together. He’s seen you in bathing suits over the years, he’s caught glimpses of your pretty body of course, he knows how beautiful you are and he’s always maintained himself.

Satoru treasures you far too much to fuck it up in any way, despite the amount of times he’s almost lost it. Aside from Suguru, you have been the most important person in his life, and perhaps you’re closer now. But he can’t help but compare other girls to you over the years, and he usually makes quick work of the small relationships that he has with them.

However, what he hadn’t anticipated? Living with you walking around in your fucking panties and a crop top.

You nearly took him out the first morning you were here, when he went to brush his teeth, he has a huge house but of course you went to the main bathroom that divides his room and the room he set for you, it’s the bathroom you used when you stayed over. So he should have maybe anticipated it, but nothing prepared him for you bent over the sink, washing your face.

Your ass looked far too tempting in those damn boyshorts, half of each cheek tempting him to smack it, grab it, fucking lift you by it and slide into you. He was shocked when he was hard from the sight of it, he’s not inexperienced or not used to women, and he’s used to you, but something about the sight made him fucking feral, and he had to literally run to one of his guest bathrooms.

He now was almost used to you walking around in almost nothing, but this morning you’re in some little white tank top and he sees the outlines of the curve of your pretty tits, sees your nipples perked up, begging for his mouth. You’re wiping your eyes, yawning, using his Keurig to make coffee, smiling at him as if this is in any way normal or okay.

He gulps as you turn your attention to him, hair in a messy bun, his eyes struggle not to just stare at your body, he has to shut his mouth because it’s just slightly ajar. Satoru, a man who sees women naked frequently, fuck he has business meetings at strip clubs, nudity is nothing. But he can’t take it, take how your breasts are calling for him, how your thighs shift.

“Good morning, Toru! We have that event tonight, right?” You say sweetly, as his heart hammers in his chest, and then you feel his gaze on you, making your nipples tighten, more apparent as you look where he is now, biting your lip. “Shit, white isn’t the best color huh? How embarrassing… it’s kinda cold…”

“Yeah, cold.” He clears his throat, stepping closer, and your eyes drink him in, shirtless and built so perfect. You’ve seen him this way of course over the years, Satoru had no issue pulling his top off to work out, play a game of ball, but something about him in his soft sweats that show too much makes your brain run awry.

You should be immune to it, the god-like body Satoru Gojo has, how fucking perfect he is built, how pretty he is, but something makes your tummy heat up lately, especially when he comes closer, blue eyes lidded. “Um, I’ll make coffee?”

“Yes please.” He smiles sleepily, far too pretty, and you have to remind yourself, as you have all week, that you’re not with him, not truly.

It feels too easy, too comfy.

That was the point though.

“Got it.” You turn now, setting to put the pod in, tiptoeing to get his sugar, he chuckles deeply, reaching above you now, far too close to you, his bare chest pressing against your upper back. Your fingers grip the counters, feeling the cool granite of them, your breath catching.

“I’ll put them a little lower.” He teases, smirking as he sets them down, leaning a hip on the counter, and you smile, pretending to be calm, like your heart didn’t just beat out of your chest.

You’ve literally hugged this man every time you’ve seen him, you’ve even crashed next to him, why is he fucking with you so badly!? You suppose his presence in pieces was just easier to cope with than anything, but now your brain keeps having ridiculous images. Him having you up on that counter, your thighs spread, so intense you drop the spoon, it clatters to his tile floor.

“Shit, sorry.” You bend down, and your breath is right against him, over his thin sweats, and you look up at him, creating the worst images of his best friends he can ever imagine.

“It’s… fine.” He clears his throat, turning so you don’t see the clear evidence of what you’ve done.

“You okay, Toru? Tons of sugar, like usual?”

“Yeah.” His voice is gruff, as he glares at his cock, willing it to go down, you blink curiously at his back, wondering what’s wrong. You clear your throat again and hand him the cup, stepping next to him, he takes it, having put his cock up in the waistband of his boxers now, smiling nonchalantly. “Thanks sweets.”

“Of course! Can we go over a few things later today, before we go? I don’t wanna fuck anything up.”

“Of course we can. I also ordered you a dress and some jewelry, that cool?”

“Oh what? I have dresses, pretty ones!”

“I know, it’s really uppity bitches there though, you need something top notch.”

“Oh…” You trail off, a blush decorating your cheeks now, making you look even more tempting. “But you don’t know my size?’

Satoru brushes a tendril of hair that’s come out of your bun then, smirking just a bit. “Think I don’t know your size, sweetheart?”

“I… um…” Satoru has you flustered, dammit. “Oh?”

“Mhmm.” As if he hasn’t eyed your body a million times over. “It’ll be here later, I have to go to work for just a couple hours.” You nod then, for some odd reason wanting to kiss him, but you bite your lip instead.

“Sounds perfect, I have the day off!”

“Even better, go take a nice bath and relax before we deal with the snobby old fucks.” You giggle at him, you have always loved how he speaks of rich people, when he’s filthy rich, but Satoru? He’s very different.

He’s just…

Satoru.

Satoru’s heart doesn’t hammer in his chest, it almost falls out after he’s got his three piece pinstripe suit on, adjusting a skinny silk tie and peering at his silver Rolex, seeing what time it was, as you appear in front of him. The dress he picked out was a lacy black one, perfect for evening, but the way it hugs your every curve, the way your breasts are pressed up in that top?

You do a nervous spin, revealing your pretty back, the curve of your spine, the v neck so deep he sees hints of the dimples on your back. You turn back around, eyes glittering, enhanced with a little mascara and eyeliner, your lips the prettiest shade of red he can imagine. You look…

Beautiful.

Is that even the word?

How does he even explain it, when he’s speechless, when he feels his ears heat up at just how nervous he is to be in your presence then, eyeing a delicate gold necklace that hits just so in the hollow between your collar bones. You’re tilting your head to the side, hair falling softly in curls you’ve put it in, clutching your pretty little evening bag.

“How do I look, Toru? You look so handsome, but when don’t you.” You tease, and he tries not to look at the slit showing far too much of your pretty thigh, so tempting to slip a hand up it, find your surely pretty little pussy.

“You look…” He takes a breath, trying to act somewhat normal, smiling then. “You look… hot as fuck.”

You giggle then, rolling your eyes. “Oh whatever!”

“You look… amazing. Really.” He steps to you, giving into the temptation to brush the backs of his finger across the apple of your cheek, then across your jaw line, watching your breath catch, your red lips part, showing a hint of your little bottom row of teeth.

How would that pretty face look so fucked out?

God, it’s been a week, he needs to stop.

His hand falls, and you barely hold yourself together, breaths coming quicker and quicker. “You look beautiful, sweets. Gonna make quite the impression.” His husky admission makes you blush further, looking down and eyeing that little knot on his tie, as it’s like the entire room is holding its breath, everything so overwhelming, his nearness, his scent.

“Thank you, really for this dress. It’s so beautiful, and this.” You touch the pretty gold necklace, just making his eyes watch your pretty breasts rise and fall.

“Of course, it’s part of this, you know.” His little admission breaks you just a bit, for some insane reason, you felt like this was some date? You rein yourself in just a bit, smiling.

“Yes, but thank you. Shall we go, hubby?’

“We sure can, wifey.” You both laugh, the friendship of years prevailing finally, when you slip into the back of his limo with him, trying to ignore the feeling of his strong thigh pressing against yours, burning through the silky layer of the dress. “So remember the story?”

“Yeah, it’s easy to think of it happening, friends falling.” You then panic, as his blue eyes catch yours in the dark of the limo. “I mean-”

“No, of course it is. I’ll say that… I started falling in high school.” Because he did, god he did. After you all are about to be at the event, he notices it, your nerves, this just wasn’t your scene. “You look perfect, really.”

“Oh no…” He leans close, cupping your face, but it feels too good, your lips are too close.

“You do, gonna knock 'em dead, yeah?”

“We both will.” You smile tremulously, inhaling the night air greedily as you both walk up to the event, being ushered in. You’re clinging around his elbow as he casually goes about it, going into Mr. Gojo mode, you’ve seen him do it plenty over the years, still keeping his charm and sarcasm, but he’s just a force, the way he plays them all.

Knowing Gojo wants to take most of these people down is thrilling in its own way, you’ve always been enamored with how he fights for his principles, how real and raw he truly is with you about it. How humble when he’s come from everything, but still he knows that role he must play, and play it he does, his hand pressing on the small of your back as you two make small talk.

“I always thought of you two falling for each other.” Says your mom now, yes even your parents had to think it was true.

“I did too… so sudden though? Young love.” Gojo’s mom says, tossing back her silky long locks with a smile.

“What can I say? Your son is hard to resist, he’s so persistent. Like a cute little puppy.”

“A what!? Brat.” He’s glaring, but your parents and his mom are laughing, and you know it works, being real.

“Aren’t you two so in love?” Another person says later, as they observe Satoru placing a little peck on your temple, and he smiles with ease, not realizing the entire mess he’s making you.

“A beautiful couple. Gojo, you chose well.” One of his work friends says with a grin.

“We’re very lucky, both of us.” You say softly, stopping Gojo’s heart, when you peck a little kiss on his neck, tiptoeing in your heels, he turns then, your lips far too close, so close you taste the sweetness of his breath, and your eyes lock. “Aren’t we, Satoru?”

He blinks, realizing… you’re just helping him, and you’re nailing it. He tries to shove back the odd fluttering in his tummy, tilting your chin up. “We are lucky.”

The night ends up with plenty of dancing, plenty of schmoozing back and forth, and plenty of both of you being the perfect team. It was so easy, you both knew each other like no one else, the answers flow, the dancing flows, you’ve both danced in school before, you’ve partied together. You’ve been a plus one even as a friend.

Too natural, too perfect.

You soon need a breath, as you feel far too much as Satoru dances with a lovely girl, you recognize her, Gojo dated her and she’s a family friend. You assume she was a candidate for marriage as you recall her family ties, but seeing someone in his arms suddenly makes your heart break.

It’s only been a fucking week!? Can’t you keep it together!?

Later as you both get home, you’re taking off your shoes, wincing as the heels are off your feet, and Satoru looks at you curiously. “You okay, sweets? Kinda a long night of assholes, huh?”

“Oh it’s fine, Toru. Truly. Um… I recognized a couple girls there.”

“Yeah, they run in the same circles.” He takes off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves of that crisp white dress shirt, revealing the veins of his strong forearms, addling your mind further, how fucking attractive he is when he loosens that tie.

“Um, I know you said discrete, will you be… bringing them here?”

Satoru blinks at you, head tilting, soft white hair falling just so. “What? Bring who here?”

“Um, her, or any of the girls there really. If so I think I’ll probably… wanna know if you don’t mind? So I can make sure I’m in the room or whatever. A little notice?”

Satoru walks to you now, your head is tilted back when he hooks two fingers under your chin. “You think I am interested in them?”

“They’re beautiful. And we’re not together, so it’s fine! Just… a little notice would be cool?”

“And you, what if you bring someone over.” His jaw tenses, his words surprisingly sharp. “Will you tell me?”

You laugh softly. “That won’t even be a thing.”

“In a year?”

“It’s… never been a thing really.” You realize then, that you are almost spilling it, the fact that the entirety of your experience is one fuck in college, a two pump event that involved nothing really.

His brows draw together in disbelief. “Never? You don’t…”

“Listen, we’re best friends, but that’s private. Okay?” He nods, stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck, looking down.

“Shit I mean you date a bit though?”

“Yeah, I do. But… it’s… I need to get out of this dress.” You say then, suddenly rushing to your room, leaving Satoru’s mind whirling.

How do you think he wants anyone when you’re here killing him.

“Toru?” You lean your head out from the bathroom a few moments later.

“Yeah?”

“This is embarrassing, but the zipper is stuck, and it’s so expensive… I don’t wanna fuck the dress up.” You murmur, he smiles, feigning ease as he steps into the bathroom, peering at you in the golden gilded mirror.

“No worries, got ya. Huh it is a little stuck…” He gently tugs at the zipper, humming a big. “Um… hang on I need to pull it up a bit.”

“Sure. Be careful!”

“You’re worried about this when I could buy you ten more tomorrow.”

“Still!”

He smiles at your reflection, hand palming your bare back then, making you bite back a gasp, body shifting in desire at just the touch, your eyes shut so he can’t see them rolling back, but he sees those goosebumps everywhere. He unzips it then, revealing lacy panties that make him pause, letting the dress fall, you’re catching it at the front, gasping.

“I think I got it.” He says huskily, unable to stop his fingers from trailing up your delicate spine, blue eyes so bright in the mirror they wreck you, while you barely hold the material on. “Need any more help?”

“No! I mean… n-no.” Shit shit shit.

You’re soaked from a brush against your back!?

“Got ya.” He smiles just a bit, leaving you now, resting his back on the door, hand running across his face, curious how he’s throbbing with precum from seeing your fucking back.

Two weeks of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend

You arrive at his work, the coworkers all greeting you so friendly, as his assistant Miwa escorts you, giving you both soft smiles. “Your wife is here Mr. Gojo.”

Satoru looks up in surprise, you’re in your pretty work dress, looking all cute and professional, holding a bento box in one hand, a boba in the other. You’re smiling brightly, as his lips part in surprise. “I had an early day and I thought I should bring some lunch?”

“Oh… oh thank you… Miwa if you could?”

“Of course, I’ll give you some privacy.” You hear her giggle and you smile at Satoru, looking as he’s leaned back in his big leather seat, smiling softly back at you, eyeing your hands.

“I get lunch made for me, shit I am lucky with my fake bride.” You snort, rolling your eyes and walking up to him, setting them on the desk.

“It seemed wifey to do? But also I really do have a short day, figured you might be hungry?”

Fuck you’re sweet.

Fuck you’re pretty.

God, you’re looking at him like that, leaned over just a bit, his eyes darting over your body that tempts him every day more and more, but your sweetness ruins him, the thoughtful nature you’ve always had, but now so geared to him. Is it all for show, he can’t believe it is when you open the bento and show him sushi, onigiri and greens placed so prettily his mouth waters.

“You ordered this, yeah?”

“No silly, I’ve been practicing. You helping me have some time off work has literally given me so much time… I hope they’re yummy? Oh, I didn’t make the boba though.”

“Why didn’t you get anything?” He asks, frowning.

“Oh I’m good, I just was dropping it off. You’re probably busy, taking down the villains huh?” Satoru’s words catch in his throat, looking you up and down again, before looking back down at the food in front of him.

“Stay a bit, it’ll… look good you know, us having lunch together.” He murmurs, lying out of his fucking teeth, as if he didn’t want to eat you then and there.

Your thighs spread, panties to the side, lapping you up?

Yummier than this. Killing him to imagine.

“Oh, um… where do I sit, over here?” You go to scooch a chair over, and he stops you.

“Nah those are heavy, come on.” He pats his thigh, earning your eyes widening, pulse fluttering as he smirks. “You’ve sat on my lap at parties plenty.”

“Y-yeah… but it’s… I…”

“C’mon, have a couple bites please, I’ll feel bad if you did all this for me and didn’t eat.”

“Satoru, you have bought me a new wardrobe and a car, can’t I make some sushi?”

“Sit.”

You sigh, it’s true you’ve sat on his lap, but the past two weeks of constantly being wet around him are taking their toll. You smile brightly, sitting on one of his thighs, praying he can’t feel it, the heat from your pussy as you’re pressed on a muscled thigh, and he’s picking up sushi with chopsticks, popping one in his mouth and moaning, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck that’s yummy. You made it for real!?” You giggle, nodding and trying to be more comfortable, it’s your Toru, right?

“It’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. That’s got eel sauce on it, this one is the spicy crab.”

“You like spicy crab, here.” He pops one to your lips, and something feels too intimate, on his lap like this. “Open.”

Open.

Open!?

The pictures of you hearing him that while on your knees makes your cunt dribble, you shift nervously, clearing your throat.

“Open, silly.”

You do as he says, as he pops the roll in your mouth, and you chew, feeling the flavor hit your tongue, he grins now, popping another into his mouth, and you wonder if it’s easy for him to be this way. He’s so natural at it, sipping his boba and humming happily, all while his thigh presses where you’ve been aching for him, forcing yourself not to touch your pussy to the thought of him.

You can’t do that, it’s fucked.

You try to get up, and he presses you down, big hand on your waist, far too close when he leans the thick straw to your lips. “Take a sip, it’s so good.”

“Oh… um sure. Thank you.” You take a sip, lips pressing where his had, and he can’t stop focusing on how good your lips look, wrapping as you suck, cheeks hollowing and making his cock twitch.

You both sit there then, staring at each other, breaths coming just a little too quick from you, as he sets the drink down, but you stay on his lap. “Y’know… the event tonight, we should probably actually kiss? There will be cameras all over.”

“Kiss!?” He laughs then, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I mean it’s kind of part of it. You’re comfy with it right, not gonna fall head over heels.”

“Psh.” You already have, long ago, it’s all fucking hitting. “You’re so cocky, Toru I swear.”

“I can’t help it, my lips are so talented, you know. Makes girls fall.” He brushes his silky hair back, winking at you then, and you swear you can hear your heart in your goddamn ears.

“I remember you were pretty good.”

“Yeah, you remember?”

“Yeah it… was my first kiss.” You mumble then, looking away, sipping his boba nervously, he blinks rapidly, blue eyes wide in shock.

“What now!?”

“No biggie, we were like seventeen…”

“But you… never told me?”

“It was embarrassing.” Satoru’s mind races to that night, as does yours, as you sit in his office, just the hum of the fan and soft music playing from his little device, staring at each other, both in a haze.

You and Satoru Gojo were thrown in a closet together, you’re sighing as you’re pressed against him, peeking at your phone in the dark to see the time. Being too close to Satoru wreaked havoc on your brains at times, though you have known him so long, you couldn’t lie and act like you didn’t think of things… kissing him, maybe dating him? But you know they’re silly thoughts.

“Don’t freak out, we’ll just let 'em think we made out.” He says now, and you turn your eyes up to him, adjusting in the dark, but even here you can see the glint of those bright baby blues.

“Y-yeah. You’ve kissed plenty, though.”

“You haven’t really?”

“Um, no.”

Satoru’s gently turning you to him now, tilting your chin up while his eyes adjust to see your pretty face, you’re thankful it’s so dark that he couldn’t see your blush. “We could practice, you know.”

“Satoru!”

“What? A little practice between friends? You know you wanna kiss me.” He taunts, teasing tone as he grins.

“No way!”

“Not at all? I’m hurt, sweets.”

“Oh whatever, it'd be weird, we’re too close. Do you kiss Suguru?”

“Oh yeah, have you seen him?”

You both laugh then, when he leans down just a bit. “Well, if you kissed Suguru, I feel left out now.”

“We can’t have that. Show me what you do know, I’ll advise.”

“Kissing expert, hmm?”

“Mhmm.” You lean up then, as he bends down, your arms wrapping around his neck, you pause as his hands press against your waist, making your heart race. “Ya scared?”

“No! Goofy ass.” He’s chuckling until you lean up, pulling him down for a kiss, and your lips meet for the first time.

Your first kiss.

He pauses, your lips connecting just do something. Satoru at seventeen had done plenty of make out sessions, but they were fun, something to do, exciting at times, but nothing prepared him for it. For your sweet lips on him, tingling them, his heart beating in his chest.

Satoru falters, and he never falters.

He doesn’t slip his tongue in, he doesn’t pull you close, he freezes, so in shock at how good it feels, how right it feels. You ease back, nervous then, clearing your throat, as he hasn’t moved his lips. “I’m sorry I’m not…”

Satoru yanks you against him then, pressing your body on his, kissing you over and over, so deeply, taking your breath away, you’ve never felt something like this, you’re trembling as you feel his tongue slip against the seam of your lips. “Open them up for me.”

This isn’t silly Satoru, goofy ass friend, his husky declaration destroys you, and he uses the gasp to slip his tongue inside, swirling with yours, igniting something between you that night that you will both avoid talking about for years. When he presses you against the closet door, sighing into your lips, and you’re being picked up in his arms, as your mouths move over each other.

You both pull back, gasping as the timer goes off.

What was that!?

“If I’d known it was your first kiss, maybe I wouldn’t have… gotten so excited.” He says with a little pink on his cheeks.

“No, you didn’t cross any lines, Toru. Don’t worry.”

He wants to laugh, because oh, he wanted to.

If he’d had more time he’s sure he’d have lost it, whatever control he has now he did not have as a seventeen year old. “Was it a good one at least?”

“The best a girl could have.” You say softly, smiling at him then, making his heart race when you both sit there, far too close, and he swears he can feel your heat against the hand that’s on your thigh.

“I know I’m pretty amazing hmm?” He teases, trying to hide the raging storm inside of him, you giggle, shaking your head and standing finally.

“You’re a conceited little shit.”

“Hey!?”

You’re both back at ease, as he stands now too, looming so tall over you, his presence making it hard to remember why you’re here. “I should go.”

“We should practice, though, yeah?”

“I mean… you think we’re that rusty?” You try to feign ease, he smiles then.

“Yeah, we gotta be. We’ll bump our heads together or some shit.”

“Okay… um…” You take a sip of his boba then, clearing your throat and smiling up at him. “Let’s practice.”

Satoru brushes his thumb across your chin, your ass pressed against his desk and you’re pinned between it and him, your hands sliding up his starch white dress shirt slowly, eyes lowering to his glossy lips. He presses a kiss against your lips, and you then know it, more than ever.

Nothing is like kissing Satoru.

Nothing is like his lips making contact with yours, as your eyes close, the feeling of him working his lips over you so gently, making you tremble, making you ache in ways you have tried to hide, to avoid. He pulls back, cupping your face and exhaling, his snowy lashes low over cerulean eyes, his lips parted just so, as you both stare at each other, speechless.

You don’t know if he’s as affected, and neither does he.

“How’s that?” He asks softly, and you lean up, your fingers enwrapping in his hair, as two of his hands bar you on either side.

“Maybe one or two more? To look natural.” You whisper, and you expect a smirk, or something cocky, conceited, but he slams his lips on yours now.

His tongue is swirling against yours in moments, as you both devour each other, hungry and needy, kissing each other desperate, messy now. A kiss like you’ve never had, as his hands press against your hips, then he lifts you on the desk, your thighs around his hips, making you cry out. The sound causes him to lose any semblance of control, he’s biting your lower lip, moaning into your mouth.

“Mmm!” Your hands pull his hair now, as his slip up your bare thighs, and then you feel it, the hardness under his slacks against your heat, your panties already sticky and damp, and you pull back with a gasp.

Your eyes shoot up to his when you break apart for just a moment, and Satoru’s breath is coming in little pants, his fingers scrunching your skirt up your hips, yanking you closer. You whimper now, head falling to the side, and he’s kissing down the side of your neck, your breasts pressing against his chest, dying for him inside you, as he’s ready to fuck you right on his desk.

“Satoru… what are-” You’re trying to whisper when his lips find the shell of your ear.

“I need-”

Knock knock knock.

You both pull back, his eyes dilated to the point they’re dark, his hands still on your bare skin, as his eyes dart down your body. “Yes?” He manages gruffly.

“Twenty minutes until your meeting Mr. Gojo.” You hear, and he curses softly, turning away, trying to calm his nerves, his racing heart, all while you’re hopping down, trying to pull yourself together.

You’re almost darting out of the door when he sees you. “Shit, please…”

“No, no. We um… were practicing?” You manage to whisper, as his hand is over yours on the knob. “I got carried away.”

He laughs, without humor. “You did?”

“I did. I’m sorry I don’t even do this.”

“Just how… inexperienced are you?” He asks softly.

“A lot.”

Because she can’t help but compare every man to Satoru Gojo.

“Well, you can’t tell, you’re an amazing kisser.” You blush furiously, looking down, biting your lower lip.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“You are, shit. My god.” He brushes your hair off the side of your neck, exhaling, breath tickling you, setting your body on fire.

“Thank you, so are you. We will be good to go tonight, you think?” You whisper, so nervous to say what you want to, and he pauses, clearing his throat, his hand falling off your shoulder now.

“We’ll kill it. Thank you again for lunch.”

“Of course.” You brightly smile, trying to remember.

It’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake.

As you’re repeating it in your head, Satoru is struggling to not lift your skirt up and fuck into you right on this door, he wouldn’t care if the entire office heard you scream his goddamn name. When you slip out the door he rests his head on it, the cool wood doing nothing to his overheated skin, hands clenching into his fists as he tries to calm himself.

What was that, what is that with you both?

He promised he would be respectful, he has to try to rein it all in, he has to make sure your friendship isn’t ruined because he can’t stop himself. Satoru tells himself that as he wills his cock to go down, but he can’t stop himself, soon he’s stroking it right in that seat, remembering feeling your pussy pressing against his length.

God he needs you, he shuts his eyes, imagining sinking inside you while he twists his hand up and down his length, desperate for any relief. He had some regulars he would call back in the day, but not only does it feel so wrong to do so, he doesn’t want anyone but you, he can’t even put a vision in his mind but you.

‘It’s fine, baby girl you can take me’ he murmurs softly, snowy lashes shut as he imagines fucking into you, stretching you god he bets you’re so tight, and he could feel that warmth, imagining you as he spits down on his pretty cock.

His pink tip is oozing precum while his head rests back in his office chair, he can still smell your scent, that shampoo you use, the body spray you have worn since high school, it’s you. He’d kiss every inch of your body, have you so ready you beg for him, fuck you so good tears pool in your pretty eyes, he can damn near feel is as his hand strokes faster and faster.

He lets out a soft groan, muttering a ‘that’s it, you’re so wet f’me, huh?’ to the very image of you on that desk, tasting your sweetness on his lips, while he pinches his tip, the precum and spit wetting his cock enough that the sound of him stroking fills his office. His breath quickens as he thinks of shoving your thighs up high, slamming into your cervix, ruining you.

As he cums white hot spurts all over his palm he cries out softly, the release feeling so good, he’s fought it, touching himself to you, but he can’t anymore. He quickly cleans up, panicking as he sees what he’s done, jerked off to one of his best friend’s in the world, someone who trusts him, and he’s not even holding himself together for shit now.

He exhaustedly leans his head against the desk as his alarm for the next meeting starts, struggling to remember this isn’t real, but his cock sure didn’t fucking realize that, and by the time he’s home and he sees you all dressed up for the next event? He almost has to go jerk off again.

You’re smiling all nervous in this beautiful glittering gown, and he’s once again speechless, trying to pull together his usual charm, but it falls flat. You look at him, concern clear on your features. “Everything okay Satoru?”

“Of course it is. Look at you.” He smiles, putting on the best show he can, as you wonder if you’ve over thought that kiss, he just seems so normal really.

Maybe he just got carried away, should you act normal too?But how can you, when just the brush of his hand on the small of your back shoots desire straight through your body. It’s only been two weeks, how could you hold out an entire year?

Sooo to have written this in a oneshot would have been INSANE but expect the next two parts very quicklyyy ;) Gojo is DOWN BAD my god- smut in the next hehe.

taglist #1: @plaggi @baepsays @victoria1676 @flwerie @luringfantasy @moncher-ire @allonyyourmom @kindablackenedsuperhero @evelynxxo @jkslaugh97 @sugurusfavemonkey @ninikrumbs @s4ikooo1 @bunheadusa @twinkling-moonlillie @chameleonsoul111 @nina-from-317 @naammiii @whippedbyikemen @alygator77 @uarmyhopeworldwide @1satoruu @theclassbookworm @jud3thedude @isleqt @mcromer2999-blog @silvarys @orikixx @jiejies-corner-store @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans @lordbugs @ari-sa @blue-musingss @minaa-06 @uhnosav @cvixmei @seeiin @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @mizuzu @honeybunnnnie @honeybunnnnie @gojosukuna2268 @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @jinjen

[itspileofgoodthings]

School is going so great and also I am so exhausted and also I am having an existential crisis

[box953]

YES!!!!! it kills me to death that the entire decima plot and hilbert as a whole goes NOWHERE!!!!! hilbert gets one second of humanity in front of eiffel (+lovelace conversation) and then no one ever talks about it and nothing happens and then he dies! and then surprise decima was never even important and it was all about aliens the whole time! i just wanted his whole thing to lead up to anything at all!!!! it felt like they changed what way they wanted to go with the story half way through after they had already set up all the decima stuff😭😭😭 sidenote its super interesting how the people he has hurt the most are also the only people who give one fuck about him even a little that is insane every time i think about it i die he should have came back to haunt people a little more i think

anon we are frolicking in a field together. You get me. You understand.

Obviously I’m biased but it’s always kind of been nuts to me how much of hilberts character they just kind of walk back. Especially because so much of it seemed like gold from a character writing perspective. Guy who spends years pretending to be a completely fake guy after his last mission went horribly wrong, before he drops the charade and reverts back to his old self because he tried and failed to kill his entire crew and now everyone knows who he really is? Guy who dedicates basically his entire life to this one project he swears will work one day, dragging himself and everyone he works with down with him, only for it to be revealed that any semblance of progress was all fake and that the people funding him never even wanted it to work anyways? Like that’s crazy. He’s so fucking interesting.

But then the podcast itself decides to take a lot of that back, or just not even touch it. From trying to retcon an entire season’s worth of his fake personality in future flashbacks and mission mishap episodes by just having him be the same tired old man instead of the jolly and upsetting scientist schtick he was pulling in s1? And then killing him, which for all intents and purposes i don’t disagree with, but which really feels like they were just trying to get rid of him with how little anyone acknowledges him after he dies.

like I think you can feel how little hilbert’s death impacts the story when you compare it to maxwell and how she still very much has a presence in season 4. She’s everywhere, you don’t get to forget her. It’s really interesting! And also makes it incredibly weird that Hilbert doesn’t really? Get that? We don’t even get a proper reaction from Lovelace? Like yeah she was sort of out of commission before he died but also you’d think that would be a great prompt for a later realization when she comes back and all of a sudden he’s not there. She fucking hated him but he was also the very last member of her old crew. You’d think that would count? For something? That it would cause Some sort of reaction, whatever that reaction might be.

it feels weird because at the end of the day he is textually very fucking interesting, and I like him a lot, but I almost feel like the writing doesn’t want me to give a shit about him. Which is weird!!!

[arolesbianism]

Despite how much I suffered making my last isat au Aris sprite redraw, I decided to do it again and once again went through hell doing it. There’s like a billion mistakes in this (such as her having the wrong arm rip) but at the end of the day I’m still happy with how it turned out :]

[apolohgy]

hello beautifuls, i got a job offer last week in [redacted] and i’m so grateful and excited to be… making money again! and to finally have my own place and fix it up to my taste and get 2 cats 🥹 there’s a job in [redacted] w the same exact salary range and i’m really hoping i get it bc it’s a much more desirable hot girl walkable city. my final interview for that job is next wednesday send hot girl city job offer vibes my way pls

[yoohyeon]

I should be asleep I’ll hate myself tomorrow, but while I’m preparing myself to go to sleep I remembered the dream I had last night and remembered that I thought in my dream that it would make a good story but now I don’t remember anything and I’m mad fbskndjd I haven’t write in so long, especially with characters that aren’t my long time ocs or fanfic it would have been good to think about something new but yeah 🥲

[bread-of-death]

Chat I think I need a psychiatrist