#but don't want to tag or directly argue

[wellofdean]

I think holding onto anger, being driven by it, harms a soul, even when anger is justified and righteous. I think love has to be stronger than anger, and that love is oblique (neither parallel, nor intersecting, but on another plane) to justice or righteousness.

Of course I'm thinking about Dean. To me, it goes like this:

The mark of Cain supercharged Dean's anger and darkness; gave it power over his love. He fought against it, but he also thought he could use it as a weapon. Use it to win a battle, but he couldn't, and it subsumed him. Darkened him. Led him to abandon himself.

Love, as embodied by his brother and his angel, brought him back to himself. Family is the source of both the unimaginable pain that becomes anger, but also of the even deeper mystery of faith and grace, which, by it's nature is unearned, and comes to seek him when he cannot seek it (or) himself.

Awake again inside his own skin, having recovered agency over his anger, Dean knows he has to fight it, and reject it, but more pain comes, more loss, and it gives his anger renewed and lethal strength. Dean is tested to the limits of his rage, and finds that its strength is bounded. The boundary of Dean's anger is love. For Cas. For Sam. Dean's love stays his hand with Cas, and won't let him kill Sam. Dean's love is stronger than his darkness, and it defeats death for the first time.

The darkness Dean rejects is reborn of him as Amara/anima, and she is beautiful and alluring. She draws him in, threatens to suffocate him. To consume him. He wants her, and doesn't. He is drawn and repulsed. He can't harm her. He learns to see her. Learns to see that anger is pain in disguise. He empathizes with her, helps her see this. He empathizes with the justifiably angry manifestation of his own darkness. Caged thing to caged thing, he sees her. He sees himself. She raged for justice, but injured love so often masquerades as rage. She wanted nothing more than to be freed and healed. To be reconciled.

Empathy, then, is what gives him the gift of his deepest wound: his mother. But not as he dreamed her, but as she was/is. The architect of so much of his pain and his father's pain. A woman who can't look at what she made of her sons through her decisions and her absence. The culpability is hers, and not hers. Dean goes inside her mind, speaks directly to her mind and heart; speaks directly to her wound. Sees her. Begs her to see him. Loves her and tells her the truth. Draws her to him, and lets her go. He learns to see her as a thing he did not, and could not possess. Sees himself as separate from her.

Dean wishes for his father. Sees himself as his father sees him. Realizes that his father's sight is limited. Realizes that he has begun to accept himself, that he no longer lives in John's shadow. He has begun to see his own life as worthy of being lived. As his. Sees his own family, one built of love and choice, not blood and obligation. He is the patriarch who draws them all together with his love. They are his, he is theirs. He can't do it like it was done to him.

Chuck, though, is the thing Dean still can't defeat. The horror of being Chuck's toy. The nihilism of that. It's the last and deepest paroxysm of doubt that he has any identity at all, and Chuck wants him angry. Wants to force Dean to externalize his pain as righteous fury, pushes him towards it. Love is what gives Dean the strength to refuse.

When we think of Dean's story from the vector of unjust things happening to Dean, it's easy to lose sight of the real story, which is an alchemical process that is happening inside of Dean. In that process, holding onto grievance doesn't serve Dean, it just festers. It cannot give him what he needs. Revenge doesn't remove the pain of loss; righteous anger doesn't remove the sting of injustice. That's why he has to let it go, no matter who is to blame, and that obligation is not because of his responsibility to others, it's his responsibility to himself. To his own soul.

Blame, grievance, and outwardly focused anger externalize pain, but in the end, externalizing it cannot avail him. The pain is in him. Everything that was taken from him, everything he's lost? No one who is to blame for any of it can metabolize or transform it for him, or take it from him, because it is his. Only Dean can transform it.

Culpability is irrelevant to the journey of Dean's soul.

Cas tells Dean: I love you. I know your heart. I see you. Dean can't respond. It's not because he doesn't love Cas and I don't even think it's because he didn't know. It's because he isn't there. Cas's grace can't cure Dean's anger or take away his pain. It can't give him justice, but it can give him more time. Love can stave off death one more time.

(and this is why Dean's end hurts so much. He was not finished! He was on a threshold!)

I think it's interesting how much we want to absolve Dean by assigning blame for his predicament to sources external to him: John, Sam, Cas, Mary, Jack, God himself! How much we want to give Dean his justice! He deserves it! Surely in all of this, Dean is, if not entirely blameless, then certainly relatable. His heart was in the right place and he was thoroughly traumatized and under great pressure, and despite all that, surely no one ever went to the mat for love harder, or was more selfless than Dean! What soul could do more?

And yet, he must do more. Dean's soul is his, and it can only be healed from the inside, by his process. The responsibility to himself is absolute, and Dean's absolution, his justice, the grace that will heal his soul can only come from inside the house.

[pirateshelly]

The thing with people sometimes pointing out the parallels the show draws between Louis and Marius as an excuse to villify Louis is that like. Yes those parallels are there and are clearly intentional. But narrative parallels don't exist strictly to say "these two characters/situations are exactly the same and therefore you are obligated to view them as if they are the same". Sometimes a story points out superficial similarities to further emphasize and draw attention to the ways two characters are in fact extremely different! Sometimes they're meant to show one character as a sort of dark mirror to the other.

I think in this case it's doing a lot of different complicated things. In one sense I think it's a way of saying something about Armand and what he projects onto Louis (and projects onto all of his romantic partners to some extent because Marius essentially shaped his fucked up notion of what romantic love is supposed to be and Armand doesn't know how to function in any other context).

And the pimp thing is like. That was something Louis did because he had very limited alternatives, and he felt enormous guilt about it! He hated himself for it! He has a whole very memorable monologue about that! Marius on the other hand did not have to do All That. If anything it's a parallel that serves to highlight the difference in privilege between someone like Louis and someone like Marius.

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

Is your smut really smut if one or all of them aren't bleeding or crying or sweating, haven't been bitten, don't have bruises, and- I lied it's not an "or" it's an "and" and they're all necessary

[medicinemane]

At least even when I was a teenager and identified as communist, I was still never a soviet apologist

(And as I got older I came to dislike the USSR more and more and more, also seeing that soviet apologism kinda tended to fuck things up for western communists cause they'd be so busy running defense for people who didn't like or care about them, that actually getting policies passed to help western workers came second to being a tankie)

(Straight up, while I was volunteering in Quebec, one of the people I stayed with had this book by her uncle about being a Canadian communist, and he basically pinned soviet apologism as the whole reason he left the party cause they were more interested is doing PR for the kremlin than they were interested in like... unionizing in Canada)

Anyway, tankies suck, soviet apologism suck, and I'm glad to be able to say that even when I was a communist I didn't fall into that trap... like thank fuck for that, you know?

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Fanfic Thieves on Youtube

A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.

”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”

That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.

In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:

Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.

Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.

If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.

Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.

The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.

Links under the cut.

YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics

What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime

quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).

https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about

DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.

https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about

InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about

WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about

WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll

FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about

WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW

MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.

https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about

Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.

https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about

https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos

ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."

https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about

FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.

https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about

LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about

brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"

https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about

whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.

https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about

NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.

https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about

weebxds - Same again.

https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about

ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.

https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about

WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.

https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about

SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about

https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about

theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.

https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about

SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about

RosieRealms - Naruto alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about

DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.

AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.

https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about

Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.

[rafesslxt]

Lustpotion | mattheo riddle

summary: you‘re in a boring relationship with cedric diggory and after his enemy mattheo hits a few nerves with his words, he gives you a potion. what you didn‘t know is that it was a sex and lust potion

warnings: cheating (sorry cedric), mind reading, drugging ( kind of, you drinking an unknown potion he gives you ), fingering, dirty talk, praise, dom!mattheo x sub!reader, unprotected p in v, kiiinda enemy to lovers thingy

notes: i‘m making up for not posting so long with posting this third post in 2 days hehe, english is not my first language

tags: @unicors1993 @atadoddinnit @awh-lillies @idk-simra @onyxwingsandcrowblackdreams @xitsametaphorbrianx @kiwi475

My shoulders heavy and my mind racing, I walked into the common room of my house, Slytherin.

All I wanted in that moment was to fall in bed and sleep through the whole weekend. But Pansy had other plans, apparently, cause my door did not open as I tried to walk in our shared dorm. I groan and bang against the door. "Pansy! Open up!" "Sorry Y/n, Draco's over!" I hear her shouting. Perfect, fucking perfect.

With a frown on my face I walk back into the common room, letting myself fall onto one of the couches, closing my eyes, not even caring who's around.

"Wow, I never thought I would have the honor to spend time with you." I hear a dark voice echoing through the empty common room. I open my eyes and see Mattheo sitting on the opposite couch, now standing up and sitting down on mine but on the other end of it.

I just lazily roll my eyes at him and mutter "Don't flatter yourself, Riddle. You know I'm not here for you." He smirks at my answer and shakes his head slowly. "It's just such a shame that you're with Diggory. You know.. he can't keep up with you." I look at him, confused at the sudden change of subject. " How would you know that?"

"I know a lot more than you think, Y/N. I've been watching you two." "Oh great, so I have a stalker?" I answer sarcastically. There's a chuckle in his throat again. " Just observant. But I noticed something. You're not happy with Diggory, right?"

I scoff at his words and look at him directly. " Of course I am happy with Cedric. Why wouldn't I be? Every girl would be. He's so gentle, soft, sensitive.. a gentlemen." I slowly drift off while I'm talking.

"Yeah that's what you want most people to think but I know something else nobody knows about you two." " Oh enlighten me, please."

"I know you have a thing for troublemakers. A soft spot for those who can make your heart race, and Cedric? He's too perfect for you. You need someone who can challenge you, push your buttons, push you to your limits." I hold eye contact while he speaks, not wanting him to think I back down from this but his words hit a nerve, he just didn't needed to know that.

"How would you know what I really like, Riddle?" I question him, something that goes through my mind the whole time. " I pay attention Y/n, I notice things around me. And trust me when I tell you, you give off all the signs." "Signs?"

"Yes, signs. For example the way you always look at me when we argue, your cheeks getting all flustered. The way your heart races when we're close. Even the dream's you're having about me."

My eyed widen at his last comment and my body stiffens. "You can't hide anything from me." I gulp and shake my head. I told no one about my dreams. Didn't even write them into my diary out of fear someone could read it. There is only one way he could know this and I know that his father, Voldemort, was able to do this. "Did you read my mind? My dreams?"

A big smile spreads across his face. " Maybe, maybe not." Slowly I start to get frustrated with this conversation, showing it on my face. "What do you want Mattheo? Why do you care about all of this so much, hm?"

"Because I see something in you.. something I want to try. Maybe pushing your buttons a little bit." I look at him for a moment, waiting for him to tell me that this is a joke, but he doesn't.

I sigh tired "Doesn't matter, I'm with Cedric." "Is that what you truly want Y/n? Or are you just settling for what everybody expects you to want?" I gulp at his words feeling like they hit a nerve inside me again. "I like him, really.."

"I believe you Y/n, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun along the way." I laugh sarcastically at him. " Oh yeah let me guess, that fun would include you? You just want something to rub under Cedric's nose."

"Perhaps.." he admits with a smirk. " But what If I would offer you more than that? What If I could offer you things that Cedric never could? Wouldn't you be curious?"

I swallow, scanning his face before I look away, not knowing what to answer him. He's right tho, I really like Cedric but everything with him is so.. perfect. It bores me to death sometimes.. I just want something more fiercy but I would never admit that to Mattheo.

"You don't have to admit anything." he smirks like a little devil, letting me know he's inside my head. I'm happy that he sits on the other end or else he would feel the heat coming from my body and my heart racing. "What should I do then hm? Great, let me guess.. hopping into bed with you?"

"That's a start.." an arrogant smile on his face. "But I meant more like exploring the unknown together." His gaze flickers over my face, studying my reaction. "I promise you won't regret it."

"The unknown? And what would that be?" "Oh dear, don't you ever wonder what's outside there? What else you might be capable of? I can show you." He comes nearer, sitting in front of me now. "Then show me."

With a devilish grin he leans in even closer, his mouth brushing against my ear, his mouth opening slightly as I think he wants to say something but after a few seconds of waiting and his hot breath tickling my ear, he disappeared into thin air.

In shock I look at the place he just sat on a moment ago, then looking around me. Where the hell is he and how did he do that? "Mattheo?" I ask quietly into the empty room.

There was a soft chuckle that seemed to come from nowhere and then Mattheo reappeared right in front of me. " Suprised ?" he asks with a smirk. " I told you I could show you things."

"How did you-" "It's a talent." he says casually as If it's nothing to disappear into the air. "One you might find useful someday.. but let's concentrate on a little experiment for now." " What experiment?" I ask suspicious.

His voice is smooth as silk as he starts speaking again. " I want you to try something for me.." He holds out his hand in which lays a little bottle, unlabeled and filled with a dark red liquid. "Drink this."

I take it from his hand and look at it a bit closer, noticing sparkles in it. "What is that?"

"Just a little potion. It will open your senses, make you see and feel things differently." he says while watching me carefully. I lick my lips before asking If he made this by himself. "Of course.. I'm skilled in the art of potion-making, as you'll find out soon." he smirks. " Go on..drink it."

I don't know what it is but something inside me, whatever it is, screams at me with full lungs to do it, my fingers twitching as I look at the little phial. I open it, position it at my lips and let the unknown liquid run down my throat.

As I swallow it, I could already feel it heightening my senses, my emotions running wild inside me. I see him watching my face with satisfaction as I visibly tremble in his presence. " That's it.." he whispers, coming closer again. " W-what did you gave me Mattheo?" I stutter out as I feel myself getting warmer under my clothes.

"Just a little something to enhance your experience." he says, his voice filled with dripping lust. " You'll thank me later." Suddenly, without a warning, he leans in and kisses me, his tongue exploring my mouth instantly while slowly pressing me down against the couch.

I gasp into his mouth, feeling all kind of things at once. The potion made every nerve in me more sensitive, leaving me panting just from this kiss. Goosebumps erupt over my body as I slowly feel like I'm on fire.

Mattheo smiled against me, mumbling " It feels like all your senses are heightened, right?" I just nod and answer him with a short breathless "yes". "How does it feel now?" he asks as he presses his body harder against mine, still under him. I whine at the touch and close my eyes, too stunned to speak.

His smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. My body is trembling against his, every breath I take seems to be for him. "How does it feel?" he repeats his question. " Like..like every touch from you sets me on fire. It's burning.." I gasp again, my cheeks turning red.

"Is that so?" he hums, " Do you want me to make it burn even more?" he whispers in a seductive tone. I just nod, not thinking about my actions anymore. " Please Mattheo, I can't breathe." I feel my lungs getting heavier, just like the rest of my body.

He brings his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek and brushing his thumb over my trembling lip, causing me to shudder against him. " I'll make you scream, princess." he promises with his voice low and intense.

I bite my lip at his statement, my eyes slowly closing. " How long does the potion last?" "They can last for hours." he says with a wicked smile, still brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. He slowly let's it slide past my parted lips. He groans as I suck on it, letting my tongue swirl around it, before he slowly pulls out.

"Mattheo please, I need you." I whine, feeling as If I’m about to explode If he doesn't touch me and give me something. " You need me?" He starts to smile at my words, letting his hand wandering over my body. From my mouth down to my neck, down to my chest further to my stomach. I inhale sharply when his fingers brush my stomach, feeling it already tightening.

Shamelessly he opens my jeans, letting his finger disappear into my slip without hesitation. " You're already so wet for me." he groans as he feels me dripping onto his fingers. "I fucking love it." he mumbles against my lips before he kisses me.

He tugs at the rest of my jeans and slides them down without breaking the kiss, until my pants are gone. He takes of my top, leaving my lips this time and looking at me. "Oh you look so hot right now."

My cheeks get red and hot, my face all flustered. "You look so fucking good baby, fuck." he groans his hand going back inside my slip, his thumb circling my sensitive clit and his fore and middle finger go right inside my pussy, pumping me.

"Oh god Mattheo, it‘s too much!" I whimper loudly as he continues to tease me with his touch. It didn‘t take me long before I come on his fingers, clenching around them.

My nails dig into his arms and leave marks all over them, broken whimpers and screams leave my mouth but before anyone could hear, they were muffled by Mattheo‘s hand over my mouth.

"Shh, we can't have anyone hear this, right?" "I need more Mattheo, please. Fuck me!" I hiss, feeling as If I might die If he doesn‘t"

"Poor baby, all fucked out and I've barely even touched you." he says, smiling down at me and my shaking body. His fingers come back to my pussy but this time they only play with my clit which makes me arch my back and gasping really loudly."N-no.. more.." i stutter out.

"Oh I‘ll give you more." he promises, chuckling low in his throat, unable to resist my pleas. He pulls me closer, our bodies flush against each other. With his free hand, he unbuttoned his own pants, letting out a sharp breath as he feels my wetness against his erection.

My eyes go wide as I look down and see his cock. My mouth hangs open a bit and I feel myself getting even wetter. "I - am I dreaming or is this real?" i ask him, not sure If the potion lets me imagine thing.

He laughs at my words and shakes his head. "It’s real.." he growls. "And you're gonna find out just how fucking real it feels."

Before I could say anything, I feel his thick tip against my entrance, pushing itself inside me with a sudden force that made me roll my eyes back to my brain.

"God, you feel so good, so tight." he moans as he starts to move his hips. I buck my hips up against his, finally feeling full, finally feeling that fire on my skin cool down a little bit. I look around the room, realizing again, that we‘re in the middle of the common room and anybody could just walk outside their dorms and see us. But at that moment I couldn‘t care less, it even turned me on when I‘m being honest.

He leans down to my face and whispers inside my ear " you like that thought of getting caught hm? The thrill of being watched.." I moan even louder at his words that let me know he read my mind again. "Please.." i breathe out.

I felt so drunk.. drunk of him. "I bet you would beg anyone to fuck you right now." he murmured as his eyes roam over my trembling body. "N-no, only you.." i whine and it‘s true. I feel like there is a connection through the potion to him. A desire that only he can satisfy.

"I want to feel you." I beg him as he slowly pumps his cock in and out of me. "You want it rough or smooth?" "Rough." i answer without hesitation.

Mattheo's grin widens and his eyes gleam with lust. "You got it.." he growls, pulling me up and pushing me onto the table in front of him. I gasp at the sudden change.

He ignores the possibility of being caught, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he positions himself at my entrance. He pushes into me hard, filling me completely with one thrust. "Fuck" he groans, starting to move his hips in a steady rhythm.

His lips curl into a devilish smile, his movements becoming more aggressive. "You like it rough, huh?" he asked rhetorically, increasing the pace of his thrusts. I slam my hands down onto the table and try to stabilize myself but it‘s useless. He‘s fucking me like an wild animal, the table wiggling like crazy.

We both feel the intensity of the situation growing, his cock twitching with each thrust and my pussy clenching. "You're mine," he growls, grabbing my hair roughly and pulling my head back. He starts moving faster, almost losing control.

I can‘t answer. His statement reminds me of Cedric for a moment and guilt crashes over me. Mattheo felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of Cedric's name crossing my mind as he reads it again. He slams into me harder, his body trembling with effort. "You belong to me," he repeated through gritted teeth, his eyes locked onto mine.

"I bet he can't fuck you like I can. I can take care of you. You don't need anyone but me."

I still don‘t answer him, pressing my lips together which just angers him more. "You‘ll beg for it." he snarls and lifts my leg over his shoulder, getting even deeper which leads to me squirming and breathing fast.

"I'm going to fuck him out of your smart little brain, understood?" I just nod and claw my nails into his back, leaving marks all over. "Tell me you belong to me." he whispers into my ear, thrusting with more force inside me. "I- I don‘t know.." i whimper as i feel him hitting my soft spot.

"What would he think If he could see you right now, hm?" he taunts over me and smiles, scanning my face and body. "Such a little slut for me.“

I scream his name, muffling it with my own hand as I feel myself getting close. "I need to come, please. I'll do anything!" "Say it." he says, his hips getting slower, teasing me.

"I - I‘m yours Mattheo. I belong to you." I cry out as he thrust inside of me like a mad men. "Come for me princess." he moans, his thumb going over my clit again. My eyes roll back once again as he hits my cervix, fucking me speechless.

"Bite me." I look at him confused before he repeats himself. "Bite into my shoulder when you come."

With a brutal pace he slams his cock inside me, leaving me dumb and brainless as he chases his own release. A broken sob comes out of my throat and my stomach twists in the best way ever as i come around his throbbing cock, milking him. I do as he told me to and bite into his shoulder as I scream.

I feel him release inside of me, pumping me full with his cum and painting my walls with his hot seed. He holds me in place, making sure I take every last drop of him.

"So good for me, look at how much you came." he whispers as he pulls his cock out, looking at our mixed juices. I look down and the picture sends shivers down my spine.

"I - uh.. I might have left a few marks." I admit kinda shy as I feel the potion flowing out of my system.

" I must say, you are quite the little cockslut." he said, admiring the mess between my legs and my work on his back and arms. He leans down and whispers into my ear. "Now clean up and go to sleep princess. You‘ll sit with me at breakfast."

"But - I sit with Cedric every time." "Well, that‘s too bad, cause you‘re sitting with me tomorrow." he says, knowing how mich he will get under Cedric‘s skin with this. "And remember, If you don‘t show up I will find you." he says, daring me to argue with him.

— next morning —

As I walk into the great hall, my heart keeps pounding in my chest like its about to explode. My hands are twitching and I couldn‘t hide my nervousness on my face.

I fell asleep last night with an sore aching pussy and a dream that about Mattheo that was .. well, interesting. But I bet he already read my thoughts and dreams I had. Damn, I really had to do something about that later.

I gulp as I walk further into the Hall, standing still as I look over all the four tables. At first I look over to the Hufflepuff table with Cedric sitting on it. He smiles at me as he notices me. That perfect smile.

Then I looked over to my table, seeing Mattheo‘s eyes were already on me. He looks at me with daring eyes, gleaming with lust and power.

Suddenly I hear a voice inside my head, whispering. "Don‘t even think about it my little cockslut." I bite my lip at the choice of his words. I look over to Cedric again, sending him an apologetic look before walking over to an arrogant looking Mattheo, smiling smugly at Cedric.

—

thank you so much for reading! Comment down beloe If you wanna get tagged in part 2 cause there will be one.. suprise: sub!mattheo 👀

thank you also for every kind of support 😚

xoxo sarah <3

[ziminy]

I'll follow you until you love me

Having actor Gojo as your fan isn't for the weak

Tags: smut, mdni, f!actress reader, actor!Gojo, dark themed, stalking, obsession, jealousy, fan boy Gojo, mind games, lots of lies, manipulation, panties stealing, yandere Gojo, making out, fingering, oral (f receiving), drunk s(e)x, dubious content, people are shipping you and Gojo, fear play, just me going over the top again,

Author's note: thank you for 100 flowers 🤗 I been working on this fic for a while and was waiting for a specific occasion to post it.

Words count: 16k (it doesn't feel like it, I thought it would be less)

Masterlist

The first time Gojo Satoru heard about you was a long time ago. He doesn't really remembers the details but he knows he was so done with hearing about you left and right.

Everybody was praising this new actor who appeared out of a blue, and it was getting on his nerves.

Nothing was known about you, you had no connections to the inside world, your name wasn't affiliated with any big names. It was like you were put on the big screen out of nowhere and lend a big role like the director was forced to.

And his feelings only got bitter the moment he met you in person. Walking into his set one day and greeting everyone left and right, remembering names of some crew members he didn't knew they even existed to begin with.

But the cherry on top was when the director, that was known for being a bit too eccentric, presented you with the biggest smile on. Praising you and talking about how the day is so much better with you there. And you, instead of trying to show off, being humble.

He didn't like it. The way you looked so sweet, how you would laugh at the poorly made jokes and how you left just as soon as you appeared, giving him no chance to actually learn something about you. But he does remember how you promised to buy everybody a drink next time you pass by and how you look forward to his movie.

Another one of his fans? Huh? He thought, being disappointed that you'd be much more easier than he hoped.

But he only ended up being disappointed once again, because a week later you appeared on his set one more time. This time with drinks just as you promised, and the biggest smile on your face talking about the role you're auditioning for and how the set is closer to his. Well, you weren't talking to him directly, but the director. But since you were on his movie set you were practically sets neighbors.

Full of himself, he went to you, expecting you to be excited and faint just from seeing him, since you said you were a fan. But instead you looked at him the way you looked at everybody else, the same business smile on that was basically your free pass card in life. Refusing his invitation to drink with him tonight, talking about keeping it professional and how you don't dare to accept since you respect him too much. Fearing that you might do something that would embarrass yourself in front of him.

It was a lie, he quickly noticed the way your face change as you left with your assistant. A blank expression on your face, that smile disappearing, not having to put an act on as you thought no one saw you. But he did, and it got him thinking, spending the next few days searching and looking at any media form that haves your name on it.

Were you actually pretending? Was everybody's sweetheart actually a liar? Did he actually found dirt on you? What is he going to do with this information? Surely you don't want everybody to know about about it, right?

But when he thought he had you, a scandal with your name all over it was the only thing everybody was talking about. How your company was mistreating you and how you finally managed to break ties with them. And it didn't helped that everybody on his set was whining about you not asking for help, and how they noticed your sudden demeanor but didn't said a thing.

Now you had people fighting over you to join entertainment companies. Biggest names arguing about which one was better for you, you even had his company begging you to join them. And now he was stuck with hearing your name once again.

It didn't stopped any time soon, because somehow, miraculously, you decided to sign a contract with his company.

It was like you decided to torture him, play with his mind and lead him on even if you clearly set some boundaries between the two of you. Were you playing hard to get? Because after all those nights awake he learned that you didn't get involved with anyone in the industry. You refused executives after executives, big actors and renowned directors. You would rather get banned from the industry than being known for giving any kind of services or being known as someone's partner.

He didn't knew if he was supposed to be proud or get mad at how stupid you were acting.

But it got him even more invested. And now you had him watching every single thing you appeared in. It could be a small role, you could just appear in the background for a second and he'll memorize the entire movie.

Soon he got bored of that, and he moved into interviews, appearances or just people speculations, the nda you sign or make people sign. He still remembers about that time you got a nobody as your partner and kept him around for a few months. Even so, it didn't changed a thing about his interest in you.

His room was filled with you, pictures, posters, stuff from movies you acted in. His whole house was like this in fact. His closet filled with stuff you wore, you could even find the same products you use in his bathroom.

And the less attention you pay him, the more obsessed he became. Spraying his bed with your perfume every time you went on a date with your little nobodies, sometimes even asking people from your sets about you, not daring to get to close to you so you won't acknowledge him, even if he's dying to get your attention.

Imagine his surprise when you first acted in the same thing. Well, not really because he auditioned for the same movie as you, trying for a role that had it's screentime at the same time as yours. But he didn't really expect to get it. Oh who is he lying to? He called the director and demanded to play by your side, talking about how he wants to try new things and putting a act on so nobody would rat him out.

Just as soon as the roles were revealed to the public, he even hired a few people to post about the two of you online. But he did got hit by surprise from the amount of people that actually shipped you two. It got him giggling and kicking his feet, staying up and reading comments about how you looked together.

And you seemed to feed into fans delusions, interacting with him more and putting on a more friendly facade, like you were actually friends behind close doors.

Even if it was fake, he liked it. The attention you gave him, the way you finally look at him right in the eyes with more than just your business smile. How you sit close to him at interviews, your legs almost touching. And how you would joke with him when people were looking, actually trying to get to know him.

The promotions ended sooner than he'd like, and now he was alone once again.

He should have let go of you, it been already two years since you two acted together, and he did in fact almost forgot about you. His house was finally you free, not a single thing that represented you in any way in sight. And he been clean for the past few months, finally going in public and acting like old him.

That was until a movie director contacted him, wanting him to be one of the main characters in this action movie he's making. And his costar? You. You would play his love interest. He can't really remember what he said after that, but he did ended up with the role, now reading the script with great attention, trying to picture how your scenes would be.

The romance scenes weren't enough, the fans would want to see more, he said while talking to the director, convincing him to add more. And that's how you ended up with some really unnecessary spicy scenes. Making out in the bathroom, somehow fucking each other on his bed, lots of kisses and the sexual tension should be felt the entire movie.

"Director, can I talk to you?" you said when you visit the set for the first time.

"Did something happen?" the older man looked at your concerned face.

"I received the new script." you said, holding the papers in your hands. "Are all the new scenes really necessary? It's supposed to be about fighting for justice, not a romance movie." well, you were right. But the white haired man happened to pay for the movie's budget out his own pocket.

"It would reach to a larger audience." but were the sex scenes really necessary? You looked at Gojo, trying to communicate telepathically with him. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine." the director said, ending the discussion there.

This wasn't just about you, it was also about your coworker and about how he feels. You had to pull him to the side and talk to him, you didn't want any hard feelings or to end up with a twisted relationship because of a stupid movie. "You sure you're alright with the new scenes?" you asked, looking at the tall man as he seemed to hold back something.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?" he tried not to smile, happy at the way you seemed concerned about him and his well being.

"The change was out of nowhere and too drastic. I could talk to the director if you feel uncomfortable." you're so cute, he wanted to eat you whole.

"What about you. How do you feel about it?" he knew he went overboard, he blacked out when he made those changes after all. But he personally can't say that he regrets anything.

"It's just acting. Sure, I'm a little unhappy at the changes, but I'm alright with it if you are." god, he was dying to kiss you. He wanted to get to the parts where he could be closer to you, feel your skin against his and have a taste of your lips.

There were a few more weeks of filming until he got to the parts he wanted, and he was waiting patiently. Because he knew that once it started he'll get more than enough of you.

"That's all for today." the director said, finally announcing that it was the end of today's work.

"How about some drinks?" Gojo looked at you talking to your assistant before he looked at the director. "My treat." how could anybody refuse free drinks, especially ones that were payed by the white haired man.

You initially tried to refuse, looking at your assistant for a confirmation before you accepted. And that's how you ended in a bar with almost everybody on the set.

You let yourself to get losen for once, forgetting about the image you carefully builded and drank. You had your assistant there in case of anything, which you trusted a bit too much. But even so, you're just happy that you could drink, enjoy the company of others and feeling like you're just another person in there not just a big name actress.

And perhaps you enjoyed yourself a bit too much. Because people started leaving and you didn't felt like doing the same just yet.

It was just you, your costar, the director and your assistants in there in the end, it wasn't that bad.

"I'll call the car for us." your assistant let you know as they stepped outside for a moment.

"Our car is here." the director's assistant said, making the old man get up and leave. Now it was just you, your costar and his assistant that was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm kinda glad I'm doing this with you." you said, barely able to keep your eyes open. "I hear people talking about you all the time, and they all say how good you are." he stared at you with an expressionless face, still trying to think of what he should do next.

"Why don't we go outside for a moment? Take some fresh air." he wasn't prepared for a love confession just yet.

"Alright." you grabbed his arm, letting your body lean into his. He was sweating, his heart was beating so fast that he doesn't know what to do.

"T-then." he gulped, walking with you towards the back door of the bar. Good thing he reserved the whole place, because he doesn't know what he would have done if anyone saw you in that situation.

He placed you against the wall, sitting back next to you and letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

"Your hands are so big." you said, taking his hand in yours and comparing sizes. He was quiet, he just stared at you, his mind in a million places as he tried to figure out if this was some kind of hint or it was all in his head. "You're big in general." you looked up at him, blinking a few times and making him look away, a hand over his face as he tried to control his facial expression.

"It's nothing." he almost bite his tongue.

"I was a bit scared at first, but I'm glad we're in this together." seriously, are you trying to provoke him? "Let's work together in the future as well." if you weren't leading him on then he doesn't know what this is.

The way you look at him, and how you smile. It wasn't your work smile, you were genuinely smiling at him, heck, even your eyes were smiling. If this wasn't you telling him how much you want him then he really went crazy.

He lowered his head, taking another look at your face before he kissed you. At first it was something simple, just his lips touching yours for a second before he backed away. But the way you looked at him made him get closer. Those eyes of yours, having something that looked like sparkles in them. A fire that never seems to calm down, the heat that made him fall for you in the first place. Who can blame him that he kissed you again? Trapping your body against the wall, making you to wrap your hands around him, welcoming him in your warmth even more.

He let out a moan, looking at you with something lustful in his eyes and a smirk on his face. He looked dangerous, like he finally let go of that prince charming facade, showing you what he actually is.

You looked surprised, like you actually never expected him to act like that. Did you really thought that he's usually that sweet? How cute. He could play with you for a little longer, show you what he's actually capable of.

He bite your lip, looking straight into your soul as his kisses traveled to your neck. He sucked on your skin, placing a soft kiss on it before he sinked his teeth into it, making you to let out a gasp. He needed to leave his mark on you, because who knows when else he could.

He couldn't stay away from your lips for long, and now he's back on devouring you, filling the back alley with the sounds you make. "Come home with me." he tried to say, not wanting to get away from you.

You didn't respond, not because you didn't heard him, because trust me when I say you heard him loud and clear. It was more about what will happen after that, and your moral code. You'd rather die than get involved with anyone in the industry, and yet look at you still refusing to let go of him.

"Y/N, you're here?" you could hear somebody on the other side of the door. It was your assistant, probably looking for you to go home.

"Let go." you quietly moaned into his mouth. The door open, making you to push him away, looking at your assistant who had no clue of what's going on. "Is the car ready?" you felt like you sobber up, it's like you didn't touched a single drop of alcohol.

"It just arrived." your assistant looked at the actor next to you and then at you, not knowing if they should walk away or take you to your car.

"Alright." you left him in that alley, not even looking back at him for a single moment.

He had that look again, he's about to do something you'd both regret, or more like you won't like it. Because if he's shameless enough to do it, do you think he'd actually feel a little bit of remorse?

The next day you woke up with hundreds of text and missed calls, and your head killing you. And when you looked at your phone all you could see is people sending you the same article.

Two big stars making out in the back of a bar. Is this the start of a romance story?

Huh? What are these people talking about? Curious, and having no idea why people were sending it to you, you clicked on it. And you were welcomed with your name all over it, alongside Gojo's.

All you can do is cry. How drunk were you last night? You have to apologize to your costar. How could you have been so stupid? You can't believe yourself for doing such a mistake.

"Do not believe everything you see" you posted something on your social media. Trying to calm down the crowd somehow. You have to talk to your team about this since you have absolutely no idea how to handle it. For the moment it it was better to deny it then resolve this issues with Gojo's team.

Speaking of the wolf, you haven't checked on his social media yet.

You went on his profile, and instead of trying to take control over the situation he was putting more wood on the fire.

"Since everybody knows we don't have to hide anymore" you looked at his post in disbelief.

"???" you comment. Looking at your screen in disbelief at the way he was liking comments about how the two of you looked good together.

"Hi :)" he replied to your comment, making you even more confused. Was this a strategy for the movie? I mean, it wasn't a bad idea since you are his character's love interest.

Perhaps this was all an elaborate scheme that you weren't aware of just yet. That thought made you calm down. The internet was doing otherwise.

There were people who were genuinely happy about this, talking about how they knew it. Hell, you got other stars talking about how they always seen your interactions and they knew something more was going on. The fact that you didn't seen a single hate comment made you put questions, but who knows. You might see them sooner or later.

From that moment on, you didn't had a single peaceful time on set. Now you have people acting like your a married couple when nothing was going on between you and Satoru. But he seemed fine, in fact, he looked happy with the way people are treating you now.

He left his mark on you and you didn't even knew it. It was fine, even if you didn't looked at him as a potential partner, yet. It was alright. There was more than enough time. There's no rush, especially when he knows how to get rid of competition. Just like he got rid of your assistant for interrupting you at the bar, he can get rid of everybody that dares to get in his business.

"You're free later?" he came to you when you were on set, making people start whispering between themselves and giggle.

"Not really." you looked tired, if he knew you'd end up like this without an assistant he would have got you another one first.

"If you ever need my help let me know, I'll help you with anything." he means it, even if he looks like he doesn't. He will walk through fire if you tell him to.

"I'm just looking for a new assistant, don't worry." people were speculating that the assistant was the one who leaked about your so called relationship, but it was far from the truth. But the fact that they refuses to talk to you was confusing, even if it was your assistant who did that, why would they suddenly quit and go no contact? And what was more confusing was the fact that the only text from them was a screenshot of what you posted. Don't believe everything you see. What does that means? Was somebody bullying them? Then why wouldn't they tell you?

Now you couldn't help but be hesitant about chosing a new assistant. What if they end up having the same fate? Some people can be really mean and you don't want anyone to suffer because of you.

So, for the next few days you refused to even talk about your current situation. Only having your manager by your side and not trusting anyone that got too close near you.

This only made someone jealous, and a little angry. You don't want his help, even after what happened at the bar, you act like there was nothing you should talk about.

You should have went to him, jump in his arms and cry about how your assistant left you. But no, instead you chose to overwork yourself, still be the same kind actress that people loved and still giving him no attention.

He haves a limit, you should know that. How much longer he should wait for you to finally notice him?

So, he wrote you a letter. It was nothing more than his current thoughts and about his not so healthy love that was masked as 'admiration'. Shoving into your bag when no one was looking.

You were still on set when you were reading the letter, thinking it was made by one of the staff who happened to be your fan. You didn't really payed too much mind about it, finding it cute and putting it back where you find it after you were done with it.

Did you liked it? Should he write another one? Or did he went too overboard?

Do not believe everything you see, those were your own words and yet you were ignoring them. That letter did made your day, thinking that maybe you're just overthinking about your current situation. There were bad people out there, but there were also good guys. Why were you letting one bad incident ruin your mood?

A few days later you appeared at the studio with an unknown person next to you, you finally got a assistant. And this time you're planning on doing better than you did last time. Or so you thought.

You woke up with another letter, the same handwriting and the same sweet words written on it. This time was more about you than your so called fan, about how you should take more care of your health, how you got people worrying about you. But unlike last time, this letter had a signature on it, an S, nothing more, just a simple symbol.

How cute, S for secret, right? You giggled.

Do not believe everything you see. Really, do not. But for a moment you allowed yourself to be delusional, to think that the world wasn't that bad. I mean, even if there was someone who didn't appreciate you, you still had millions of fans and there are a lot of people who supports you.

And you decided to be more humanitarian, to step up your game and follow your costar's lead. One time after everyone was done with work you announced that you want to take everyone out for drinks, your treat. No one was crazy enough to refuse, especially you.

So, you called a friend of yours who owned a restaurant, the food is great, plus they also had a bar. And off you were.

Just like last time, you ended up all alone in that place with your coworker, laughing at his silly jokes before you finally got up to pay for tonight's feast.

"Your back?" you asked, feeling someone behind you and thinking it was your assistant. But to your surprise, it wasn't. It was the white haired man who seemed drunk, and maybe he was from the few drinks he had that night.

He leaned into you, trapping you between the empty receptionist desk and him. He kept looking at you, eyes half open as he seemed to want to say something.

Your mind was wandering for a moment, moving your eyes on his full lips before looking up at him. Every sane person would have done that, I mean, he was eye catching even in that state.

"You're alright?" you sounded concerned, and for a moment he actually thought you cared about him. You looked around the empty room for a moment, looking for any other people in there, but for his assistant more specifically.

"Don't leave me." he got his face closer to your ear, whispering in a low voice, and placing his hands on either sides of your body, trying to get his body more closer to yours.

"Come." you tried to get on of his hands away, so you could move.

"Where?" he only got clingier.

"Let's sit down. I'll get you some water." the last thing you want to see is headlines with your name all over them, talking about taking advantage of him when he's such a state.

"Noo." he whined, resting his head against your shoulder. "Don't want to." you sighed, looking around the room once again, trying to see if anyone from his team is still there.

"I got the bill ready." the cashier came back, only to freeze in place and look at you and your costar hugging, or what it seemed like a hug.

"I'll pay for it as soon as my assistant comes back." you said, trying to act like you're not being suffocated by this mountain of a man. The poor girl ran back from where she came from, leaving you alone with Satoru again. You sighed, you could only sigh as you put a hand on his back, making him break character for a moment as he jolted under your touch. "You can be such a big baby sometimes." good thing that you can't see him, because he was grinning from ear to ear.

"What happened to you?" your assistant finally appeared, looking at the scene you two were putting.

"He's drunk." you said as you rubbed his back with one hand, the other resting on his side, to keep him in place from falling. "Have you seen his assistant?"

"Not since the director left." your assistant got their phone out. "I'll give them a call." you're so thankful that you overcame your fears, because you don't know what you would have done alone in a moment like this. "They turned their phone off." you looked at the man in your arms and shook your head, disappointed at how this turned out.

"Call his manager, or anyone from his team." maybe he was the one who needed a new assistant, not you.

"No one is answering their phone." you understand that it's late at night, but who could just leave a big movie star like Gojo out here without a single thought about it. "What do we do? There's a hotel nearby, we could get a room for him there." that wasn't a bad idea. However, neither you or your assistant would look good if you leave him there. I mean, someone will have to get in the hotel with this world famous actor, who's face is known by everybody. He clearly drunk, and there would 100% be someone who will post something online about it and you'll get backlash for it.

"Let's take him to my place." that was the only option you had left. He started rubbing his face against you when you said that, letting out a groan and letting more of his weight into you.

"You're sure about that?" your assistant asked, not sure how to respond to what you just said.

"He'll sleep in a guest room. It's better than a hotel." your imagine had to come first after all.

So, without any more words said, you took him to your car. Even if he was heavy, he was surprisingly easy to move around. Well, he did followed every single of your move voluntarily, refusing to let go of you in any way possible.

That until you got to your house, dragging him inside when your assistant left, and leading him to a room relatively far from yours.

You pushed him in bed, taking off his shoes and trying to get him comfortable in bed. You didn't even dared to get close to his clothes, just putting the blanket over him and then leaving him in there.

You didn't even thought of taking advantage of him, you just wanted him sleep peacefully, to keep him away from anyone who might do something bad to him. After all, you knew damn well the industry you're working in, they'll eat him like wolves if they get their hands on him.

You're just helping out, you don't expect anything in return. But what a surprise to wake up with him in your bed in the middle of the night. He was on top of you, looking at the way the moonlight hit your face, and somehow wanting to bathe in your scent.

You could feel his hot breath on you, and it made you woke up. You didn't looked scared, even if he looked like he wanted to do things you'd rather not think about, you stayed calm. "Why did you leave me?" was he still drunk, or perhaps he was pretending to be? He was a good actor after all, you wouldn't be surprised if this was one of his acts.

He doesn't understands you. If you were the one who jumped in his arms like that he would have devoured you alive. But even after he made sure he could get some time alone with you, you still didn't payed him attention, at all.

"Go to sleep." you looked unfazed, not even taking him seriously.

"Touch me." he was really going to lose his mind. He was serving himself on a plate to you, and you didn't even dared to take a bite.

"You're drunk." you'd always try to do the opposite of what he's saying.

"I'm not." you knew he was pretending from the start too, didn't you?

"That's what a drunk person would say." you were getting on his nerves.

In a moment of panic, he took your hand in his, kissing your palm, closing his eyes and looking desperate as he tried to show you how he's feeling. You didn't even bat an eye, looking at him expressionless and like you didn't believed a word be was saying.

"Why don't you like me?" he had to confront you, or else this will take him nowhere.

"It's not that." he got the wrong idea, but it wasn't your job to explain yourself when he only understands what he wants to understand.

"Then? Why do you keep avoiding me?" you shook your head.

"I want us to keep it professional." you're making him laugh.

"We weren't professional when we kissed." that's another story. "So you just used me and now you'll let me hanging like this?" he really didn't wanted to listen to you unless you said something he wants to hear. "Make it up to me." what a fucker. "I want something in return for what you did." he's talking like he didn't started it last time.

"What do you want me to do?" you really can't believe him and his stupid demands. This should have been a payback for last time. Taking care of him even if he wasn't your problem to begin with.

"Kiss me." he was waiting for your response. "Like you mean it." you just said you want to keep it professional, but it's like he didn't even heard it.

"Can't I do something else?"

"Post a picture of us." that was even worse. Who knows what people would say if you do that. You'd really be branded as his, and it was a pain in the ass to deal with it.

You grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him closer to you, giving him a kiss that he'd remember. A wet kiss that it filled the room with sound, and your tongue in his mouth dancing with his. You even wrapped your hands around his neck, making sure he doesn't back down and take back his words.

He moaned, his hands trying to get under your shirt to feel more of your skin. But you didn't let him to do anything because you ended the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at him a bit angrily. "What now?"

"Bite me." kissing wasn't enough, he wanted you to eat him. Bite him, devour him in any way you could so that way you could have a piece of him with you.

"I'm not-" he kissed you, this time pinning your hands above your head so he could explore you more freely. Every time you tried to say something he'd bite your lip, making you groan and continued to kiss you.

"Touch me." he moaned, finally getting his mouth away from yours so you could breath. He took his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room and taking one of your hands in his, placing it on his crotch so you could feel how hard he was. He looked at you, at the face you made and how you didn't looked happy to be in that situation.

"It's too soon." you still refuse to get involved with your coworkers? What does he haves to do to prove to you that he means every single word he's saying?

"Do you really not like me?" he wanted you to be at least a little interested in him. It was no fun if he's the only one with big feelings in there.

"It's not that." it's your moral code.

"Do you ever think of me?" you didn't respond to that, only looking down at your hands amd trying to avoid eye contact.

"I'm not ready." you finally open your mouth to say something. "If we do this then nothing will be the same. We still have work to do, I can't simply just do it." so it was because of work? He already knew that, but at least you didn't dislike him.

"I get it." he said, getting off you and sitting down in bed. "Just go to sleep."

"You can sleep here if you want, I'll go somewhere else." you tried to get out of bed, but he dragged you back.

"Just because we're not fucking that doesn't mean we can't sleep." he will not let this night go without doing something. And just being able to feel your body against his as he sleeps is more than enough. Trust me when I say that this will drive him crazy for many days from now on.

The way you stay in his arms, and how he's able to shield over you. You really have no idea what power you hold onto him.

Do you regret bringing him in? A little. You hate giving people false hope, and he seems to ignore all your signs of displeasure. He did grew up in this environment after all. Being rich and famous from a young age, he haves no idea how to react when people tells him no, he can't handle rejection. And it seems that he always got what he wanted.

He didn't had to put on an act if he wanted to be around you. You could be friends, if he wanted. But nothing more, you wouldn't dare to be something more than acquaintances. You just work together, and are signed under the same entertainment company. You were nothing more than cash cows. You were the biggest stars of your agency, and you seemed to be pushed under the spot light as much as possible. He must understand how you feel, no?

He in fact didn't. And unlike you, he had more control over his actions. You could even say that the agency was afraid of him. He did come from a big family of stars, he had so many connections that even he can't say for sure how much power he was holding. But it was no joke when someone says he's the strongest.

So how can you reject him like that? Leaving him alone in that bed without blinking twice. But perhaps it was for the best, because he could finally rearrange his thoughts and think of what he should do. Retreat wasn't an option, I mean, how could he step back when he basically was in paradise?

This place smells exactly like you, leaving a sweet taste on his tongue and making him salivate while bathing in your scent. Should he steal something? You shouldn't tell him twice, because he got up the bed and starting looking around the room. He should pick something small, that you wouldn't notice. And even if you do notice, what will you do? He's shameless, you'll only give him a reason to get off to later when he's alone.

He should get something practical, that would help him during hard times.

And that's when he saw it, your closet. Something in his perverted mind suddenly lit on, and he went straight for your panties. There's so many to choose from, so many colors and models. He wants to take all of them home, put them on display right at the entrance so he would be greeted by them every time he comes home. In the end he picked one of the prettiest pair you own, shoved it in his pocket and went back into your room.

He gained more than he expected. Perhaps he should play drunk more often.

He got his shirt back on and got out the room. You couldn't possibly just left him in there all alone. And he was right, because he found you in the kitchen, sitting peacefully and taking a sip of some unknown liquid from a cup. "You're up?" the way your voice was still husky, your hair messy and your shirt falling off your shoulder. You said you didn't wanted him and yet you're trying to seduce him, how does that come?

He didn't open his mouth, only getting closer to you and taking the cup away from your hand, drinking from it without a single worry of what it might be.

It was tea, not so sweet, still warm and somehow hitting just right. "If you wanted some you could have said so." you said, getting up and walking towards one of your cabinets, getting out another cup and pouring some tea in it. "Here."

"I'll drink from this." he preferred your half empty cup rather than a full one? What a weirdo.

"Do you want to eat anything? I still have some leftovers from yesterday. I also think I still have some jam left, we could eat it with toast." stop showing him your caring side. He really doesn't know for how much longer he can keep it like this. This moment felt too intimate, it felt like you two really hooked up last night, and it was messing with his head.

You take good care of him, don't you? Offering him some of the biggest clothes you own so no one would suspect a thing, giving him a ride back to the studio. And now acting like you don't even know him. Stop being so cute, it only makes him want to bite you.

"You're here today?" the director said, looking at the two of you who got there at the same time.

"Don't we need to be here for a costumes check?" you clearly remember your assistant telling you to come back and do a last minute fit check.

"It's tomorrow." the white haired man said, wrapping his arm around yours.

"Why didn't you told me?" he was enjoying this too much, all a smile as he was trying not to react at your expression.

"I thought you were taking me home." you didn't even knew where he lives.

"Just go, you love birds. You clearly have better places to be at." the director laughed, making you look in disbelief at him. Love birds? Who?

"Come on, let's go back." Satoru didn't let you say a thing and dragged you out of there.

All he needs to do at the moment is keep people away from approaching you. And it's not hard, at all. Just standing next to you, flash a smile and say something that could be interpreted in wrong ways. He doesn't even need to try to make people run.

"Seriously, why didn't you tell me?" you said when you got back to your car. "Now I look stupid." you looked so gloomy, he was going to eat the pout of yours.

"I thought you knew." he'll get you even more confused about things if it means he'll see you like this. It gave him a false sense of security, like you were finally accepting him.

You sighed, not wanting to let out your anger on him. "Let me drive you home." it would be bad if more people sees you together. And at this point you don't trust anyone to come near your home to get him.

What a joke.

The next day you woke up with people blowing your phone again, and another article of your name next to his, talking about everything you did in public. Your interactions at the bar, how he was spotted at your house where he didn't left until the next morning, and about how you always look lovey dovey at the sets.

The filming progress just started and yet there were already rumors all over the internet about how you two would end up being more than just coworkers by the end of that movie.

Who keeps writing this? Seriously, it was getting on your nerves. And the fact that Satoru kept feeding delusions to the fans wasn't helping.

All this hype around the movie wasn't supposed to be only about you two, the main cast. It was supposed to be about all the production. The set, the visuals, the acting and the script, everyone's hard work. You should have turned down the offer as soon as you heard who your costar would be. But you didn't see any of these coming, so who can you blame?

Things only seems to get worse, because when you stared filming again, you got assigned with a new task.

"So, we're filming what were doing behind the scenes?" you asked, looking at the small camera that one of your coworkers was holding and then at them.

"The director said it would be fun. Giving people a little preview of what's going on." well, it didn't sounded that bad. People seems to enjoy behind the scenes footage in general, letting them see a bit of the actors lifes.

"I see." if the director said so, then you guess you don't really have a saying in this.

"We started already?" the white haired man appeared next to you out of nowhere, resting a hand on your head and leaning into you.

"Satoru, say hi to the camera." the actor said, moving the device to his face.

"Oh right, Y/N." there was a hint of his evil plan in his voice, already knowing you'd be pissed with him. "Are my clothes still at your place? I think I forgot them there." you really couldn't control your expression in that moment, looking at him like he killed somebody.

"What?" your voice was shaking, still not over the fact that he would say something like that in this situation. "Why would they be at my house?"

"I changed there last time. I think I left the clothes on the couch before we left."

"Ohh~" the other actor said, making you to look at them, somehow begging them to not get the wrong idea. "I see you're busy. I'll let you be, I won't interact."

"No, wait. It's not what it seems." it was already too late. "Why would you say that?" because he knew the director loves drama, and this would end up being published sooner or later. He was killing two birds with one stone. Doing a favor for the movie's publicity and showing the world that he already been in places some wouldn't even dare of dreaming of.

"People love things like these." he wrapped his hands around you, resting his chin on your head. "Hug me, the camera is in our direction." if it was or not, he couldn't care less. He just wanted to feel your touch in that moment.

It only got worse and worse the moment you started filming the sex scenes. The scenes were like a reflection of your own actions in real life, because everything started with a drunk kiss at a bar. Then ending up in his apartment where you were eating each other in the hallway.

It was supposed to be acting, the kisses didn't even needed to be real and yet he's not even holding back, touching you in all kind of inappropriate places, groping you shamelessly like there aren't cameras all over the place.

He pinned you against the sturdiest wall in there, making you wrap your legs around him as he kept biting and kissing you all over the place. At this point, you don't think the editors would need any sonds effects for your scenes. Because you realized how filthy those sounds were, and loud. Every time you kissed it was echoing in that empty place, the small setting that was supposed to represent a house wouldn't be enough to muffle the sounds.

He bite your lip when he realized your head was in a complete another place. How dare you ignore him in moments like these. You couldn't run even if you wanted, because you'd have to come back to him and film everything from the start. Or perhaps he could make you screw up on purpose, to retake this scene so he could touch you even more.

"Wait." you tried to stop him when you felt his hand under your shirt, trying to unclip your bra.

"What?" he said out of breath, taking his lips away from you for a moment so he could look at you.

"Let-" you looked away, too embarrassed at the way he was looking at you, his pupils were dilated and he looked like he would really put his dick in you if it wasn't for all these people in there. "Let me do it." his lips were back on yours while his hands were trying to take your clothes off.

Both of your clothes were all over the place, and you know it would be a pain in the ass to pick them after. He was too focused on this, the way he looked like he couldn't see anyone but you, like you were really alone in his house.

That's the beauty of acting, no? How some could get so focused on the plot, acting like their character is supposed to and forgetting about the outside world. But he wasn't acting in that moment. Maybe you were, but he taking this very personally. And the fact that you were holding back moans, refusing to touch him more than necessary and trying to stay in your character was infuriating him. It wasn't his character that makes you feel good, it was him.

He ended up throwing you in the bed a little harder than he intended, his touch becoming rougher and his kisses even wetter than before.

Good god, it's good that the scene ended soon after you two got to the bed, or else you would have lost it. You're already soaking wet, you have no idea what you would have done if this kept going for too long.

The scene was perfect, as much as you're embarrassed about it, it was pure perfection. Not a single time did the director called cut, you didn't had to retake the same scene from another angle. Nothing was said about your so called acting besides that you were in complete sync.

He's taking revenge on you, isn't he? Because even now after you finished your scenes for today, he looked at you with the same hungry eyes. And you swear you didn't mean it, but it made your pussy clench.

You gave him a quick look, squeezing your thighs together for a moment when he looked back at you.

It was something that he never saw before, the way you act. That expression on your face, pouting and looking at him with this thing in your eyes that made him want to drag you somewhere far away from people. You needed him, didn't you? And he was going to help you if you asked him to. Because if he got you in that state, then he also had to resolve your problem.

But you didn't spoke to him, you just looked at him all needy for a moment, like you wanted his touch back on you and then left, leaving him with the worst bonner he ever got in his life. This, only to come back a few days later for your next scenes.

You were driving him insane. And there aren't enough interactions in the movie to take out his frustration on you. There are too little scenes, and sometimes he had to improvise when he was getting too lost in his feelings. A few kisses here and there, just a quick peak when you were in the background to give more life to the movie.

But you still didn't said a thing, acting like this was all part of the script, like you were payed to do so.

So can you blame him when he wrote you another letter again? This time more aggressive than the previous times. Talking about how you got him feeling, how he craves for your touch and it drives him insane the way you seem not to care. Give him attention, or act like you acknowledge him. And this time he left the paper in your dressing room, placed under one of your stuff where he knows you'll know it was meant for you.

Too bad he couldn't see your reaction when you read the letter, but he realized you weren't too happy about it. It got you acting paranoid again, he could see it in your eyes, your body language. How you need to have a bit of distance from anyone that tries to come too close to you, and how you seem not to trust people anymore.

It was just a letter, he didn't even wrote everything down. No, in fact, he held back a lot. Because if he did wrote his mind you would refuse to come back into the movie set ever again.

But that's your charm, I guess. How you don't hide your feelings, and how you try to not make it obviously that you're displeased with things even if it's written all over your face. You're a good actress, a very good one, and yet you don't act unless you're required to. You were the opposite of him, where he always haves a mask on, the same business smile as you. But unlike you, he doesn't mean an thing, this friendly facade.

You were genuinely a sweetheart, while he only acted as he sees fit. And in this moment he's so close on fucking everything up just to toy with you. Because he's at his limits.

It was time for another suggestive scene, the set being filled with less people than usually. The lowlights, the atmosphere and everything in there was a bit suffocating. But maybe because of how much you overworked yourself these days.

"Do you think the plan will work?" you asked, sitting on his couch and looking at the coffee table that was placed there by the staff members.

"Do we have any other option?" he said his line in a serious tone, his character was supposed to be stressed from all the unfortunate events that happened lately, but it seems that he too is stress. Well, everybody been working overtime lately, but the sooner you were done with this movie the sooner you could move on with your life.

"I wish we could resolved this peacefully, I'm tired of fighting." you sighed, looking at your fingers for a moment and then at him who was resting not so far from you on the couch.

"Come here." he pat his lap, his back resting against the couch and he didn't even wanted to move an inch from there. He was improvising again, he was supposed to get up and drag about bottle of alcohol into this.

You followed his instructions, not wanting to pretend to be drunk again, and somehow not wanting to act in that moment too. If he haves a better idea for this scene then you'll follow his lead.

So, you sat on his lap, legs spread on either sides of him and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands resting on your hips, moving towards your ass as he grabbed you and dragged you closer to him, your chest pressed against his as he placed you over his hard cock. You could feel him through his pants, and for a moment you stopped functioning, not knowing how to react to this.

"Well figure it out." he kissed you, his hands going under your shirt to make contact with your burning skin.

The kiss was so sloppy, both of you too tired to figure out a pace you should go at. Just touching, getting lost in the way your bodies seem to welcome each other openly. For a moment even forgetting where you actually are at the moment, and if the director wouldn't have said cut, you could have definitely escalated things.

What was going on in your mind? How could you let yourself so carefree? If you was just a bit more tired and at a state where you couldn't think properly, you would have definitely dragged him to your changing room and fucked him there.

And you woke up with another letter, even worse than last time. Talking about how your body looks, how he wants to get his hands on you, how you turn him on in the worst way possible.

The more you ignored those letters, the more they came. It got so bad, describing his fantasies, the way you appear in his dreams to haunt him like he wasn't haunting you right now. You had no idea who the sender was, because sometimes the letters would be sign as S, sometimes they would just be filled with nothing but filthy words and no signature. But you knew it was the same person from their handwriting.

You'd always wake up with them in places where there aren't many people allowed. And no matter how hard you're thinking about, you can't figure who it was. There were no cameras in this side of the studio, so you couldn't even see who was tormenting you.

"Why don't we go drinking tonight?" the director said one time before you were almost done with work fot that day. "We're almost done with filming, lets celebrate." after all these stressful days, you could use a drink.

It will be quick, go there, have a chat with a few people, have a drink and then go home. But just like last time, one drink turned into too many and you ended up in a corner of the bar with your costar who seemed to feed you even more alcohol.

He had his chin resting against his palm, looking at you with a smile on his face as he kept pouring more of that bitter liquor into your glass. "I can't drink no more." you couldn't even speak properly, hiccuping and moving left to right, like you were about to fall off your chair.

"One more won't hurt." the bar was still filled with people, so he had to keep himself in place.

"I got the car ready." your assistant came to your table looking at you and then at the white haired man. "I have to take her home, she's already too drunk." maybe he should get rid of this one too. It seems that all your assistants like to get in between his plans.

But perhaps he got a better idea. He took your glass, gulping down everything that was in it in a second before he tried to get you to the car. "Give me a ride too." he got in the backseat of your car, pretending to fall asleep after some time.

Your assistant tried to call anyone related to him, to come pick him up from your house because he seems too drunk to even stand on his own feet. But since no one was answering, they had no choice but to get him in your house, leaving him on the couch before they left.

It was always easy, so damn easy. He couldn't help but laugh. Drunk, him? He never got drunk in his life. Alcohol seems to have no effect on him.

He made his way to your room, getting next to the bed and looking at you sleeping. How dare you be so at peace when he's there? You were panicking all over the place last time he wrote you a letter, crying and refusing to talk to anybody if it wasn't for work. And now you act like you forgot about it.

He stood in place, looking down at you with an expressionless face as he can't think of anything at the moment. He got this far, so what? He could scare you more, give you a reason to hate him but at the same time all he wants to do is stand there all night and look at you.

He took his phone out, taking a quick picture of you before he put it back in his pocket.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, not far from where you're sleeping, looking out the window and then back at you. You had quite a nice view, no wonder you always seem to be in a hurry to come home.

Should he do something mean? Leave another letter in your home to see your reaction the next day. He could put it in one of your pockets and act like he doesn't remember anything besides going to the bar to drink. Maybe even leave the front door open and say some shit about hearing something while he was asleep.

But before he could think of anything more, you extend a hand, grabbing him by his shirt and trying to drag him closer. Like before, he just stood in place, looking down at you who seemed to pull harder. Were you mistaking him for the blanket or something? Unfortunately for you, he won't take off his clothes until you do so.

"Mm." you groaned, opening your eyes to look at the white haired man confused. "Ah.." you rubbed your forehead. "Fuck." that was the first time he heard you swear. "Come here." were you still sleeping? Because he doubts you'd react that lightly to him being there. But you were calling for him, and he wouldn't dare to say no to you. So he got in that bed, getting all cozy next to you and waiting for your next move.

For a moment you just touched him, moving your hand on his face, trying to feel something before it went lower on his body. He stood there, observing your clumsy actions and letting you do whatever you wanted with him. Your hands kept wandering, from his chest to his abs under his shirt, and now you were tugging at his pants, trying to see what you didn't got to see until now.

You were funny, the way you looked surprised whenever you discovered something new about him. "Don't do that." he said when you kept trying to get your hands in his pants.

"I want to see it." you pout, looking at him for a moment before you moved his shirt out the way, exposing his lower abdomen. "If you're as big as it feels." his heart skipped a beat, he couldn't help but cover his face with his hands. Do whatever you want, he'll hold back so you can explore as much as you want. "Ohh!" seriously, he can't even look at you when you make those faces. He was biting his lips so hard, he's afraid he might moan before you even touch him. "Why are you so big? Look at the size." his cock twitched, making you let out another surprised sound.

"Touch it." he said between his teeth, looking at you between his fingers and at what you're doing.

Your eyes moved on his, a serious expression on your face before your eyes went back to his dick. Can you even fit something like this inside you? The size was just ridiculous, but that didn't stopped you from touching it. Moving your hand around and studying like it was the first time seeing a cock.

He was bucking his hips forward in your hand, breathing heavily as he tried to keep himself from touching you. This was the first time you ever showed interest in him, he can't just fuck this up.

"How does it feel?" you asked, looking at the way he throws his head backwards, his chest rising and falling down.

Good, it feels so fucking good. He might go crazy from how soft your hand was. He moaned, not even being able to let out words, or think of a way to respond to you.

"I want that too." you took your hand away, making him to finally look at you as you took your clothes off. Now sitting on top of him, taking his cock back in your hand and trying to take him inside your pussy. But it didn't matter how much you're trying, it was impossible to get at least his head. It hurts, the more you try the more frustrated you became. "It doesn't fit." his dick twitched again. You're killing him, you're saying stuff he didn't imagine you to say, and it was killing him inside.

"I'll make it fit." he pushed you off him, pinning you down into the bed as he got in between your legs, placing kisses on your body as he went lower and lower, until he got to your pussy.

He loved the way you taste, it was better than he imagined. So much fucking better. It was no wander he was trying to devour you, I mean, who knows when he's going to do this again. So he might as well do it until he memorizes your taste.

Your hands went through his hair, tugging at it lightly as you let out soft moans, even cursing under your breath from time to time, letting him know how good you were feeling.

He pulled a few orgasms out of you, loving way too much the way your thighs wrapped around him, or how you're trembling, looking at him with teary eyes and you only seem to want more.

He'll give you more, he'll give you as much as you ask for, fuck, even more. He'll make sure to make you fit him, prepare you so good that you could only fit his cock from now on. He'll give you a reason to keep going back to him.

He got up from between your legs, sitting next to you as he got his hand back to your pussy, slowly pushing two fingers inside and making you gasp. "Is it good?" he whispered in your ear, feeling the way you clench around him. All you did was to nod, looking at him with big doe eyes and leaning more into him, to feel more of his warmth.

"Deeper." you said when he didn't went more than halfway through, moving his fingers at a slow pace that it left you hanging, almost giving you no friction whatsoever.

He kissed you quickly before moving his eyes back on your pussy, resting his cheek against your head. Be careful what you're wishing for, he'll go so deep that you'd feel him in places you never knew existed. It's already hard to hold back, but if you keep provoking him he might let his mind slip for a moment.

So, doing just as you asked him to, he got deeper, curling his fingers upwards and making you squirm. He kissed you again, this time taking no break as he kept bullying your insides, making your walls get tighter around him. How is he going to live without this? How can he go back home and act like everything is normal after this? That's why he couldn't help but move faster, in a irregular pace as he kept stopping from time to time only to go rougher. So you wouldn't get too used to him.

You were a moaning mess, and he seems to only want you to lose your mind, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, kissing you as he made you turn around so he could do it from another position. He wants to go even deeper, to get back at your words, for requesting unnecessary things when he was going to give you what you wanted anyway.

"One more, come on baby. Give me one more." for how much longer is he going to say that? He's starting to get on your nerves at this point. But in the end, he finally took his fingers out of you. Dragging you closer to him so your back could be pressed against his chest, one of his arms under you head as he kept your hair away from your face, so he could be able to look at you. "You'll fit me now." he whispered in your ear, dragging your hips back and grabbing one of your legs, spreading them apart as he start whispering more filthy words in your ear. "Look at how you're taking me in." he said, waiting for you to say something, but to his surprise, you're long gone into the dream world. Sleeping soundlessly in his arms, like you forgot that he was even there.

He can't believe this. You actually fell asleep. You really dared to fall asleep and leave him there after you dragged him in your bed. The audacity you had. He's going to make sure to give you a hard time tomorrow for this. So, he too fell asleep next to you. A bit hard to do so, but he managed somehow.

The next day you woke up with your head killing you. You shouldn't have drank that much, how could you have been so dumb.

You were about to turn around when you realized that someone was in your bed, a pair of muscular arms around you, and someone breathing into the back of your neck. Your heart stopped working, you froze in place as you saw your soul leaving.

"Morning." a masculine voice could be heard from behind you, and you feared that you knew exactly who it was. He pressed his body into yours, letting you know you were both naked, and feeling his hard cock pressed against your back.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to run from there and not look back for a single moment. How could you have been so stupid, how could you just do that. Just how drunk did you got?

"Don't tell me you're planning on running away." he whispered into your ear, making you flinch. "You dragged me into your bed, put your hands all over me and now you're going to leave me after you used me as you pleased? I had no idea you were that type of person." you whined, because that's all you could do in that moment. What other explanation do you have?

"I can explain." he pressed his cock into you harder, making you yelp.

"Oh yeah?" one of his hands traveled on your body, now going up towards your boobs, making you gasp when he groped one. "You kept me up all night." you cried at his words. "Don't you remember the way you got on top of me? Trying to get my cock inside then crying about how big it is." you closed your eyes shut, trying not to let out another whine from remembering what happened last night.

"I'm sorry.." what else could you say besides that?

"You weren't sorry when you were telling me to go deeper." his hand went down your body, wanting to go in between your legs to spread them again, but you jumped out of bed.

"I'm sorry, alright. I have no idea what got into me last night." you were really planning on running? Don't make him laugh.

"So you really just used me then, huh?" he stood there, in your bed. Half his body being covered by the blanket while the other was all naked, his skin exposed to you and he didn't seemed to me ashamed at all by what happened.

But if you think about it, he was the one who got a bottle of a really strong liquor and dragged you to the corner of the bar, making you have a glass with him. "It's your fault too." his eyes wided, looking at you like he didn't expected to hear that. "I might have dragged you in my bed, but if you didn't liked it you wouldn't have stayed." he smiled, finally letting his mask drop as his body language suddenly changed. He looked more relaxed, a smirk on his face as he uncovered more of his body.

"Come here. Let's continue from where we were." you moved you eyes away from him, not daring to look in his direction as you could see his cock. "Don't be shy now. You weren't last night, so why should you be now?" you're not going to listen to his nonsense anymore. "You don't want me anymore? How sad." he looked at the way you were going to your closet. "I still want you though." you ignored him as you went to get dressed. But you couldn't even do that in peace because he got behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and resting his chin against your head. "You should wear that, it looks good on you." he pointed at some dress you had in there.

"I'm not going anywhere today." you want to be comfortable, not dress up for nothing.

"Then wear nothing. I like it when you have nothing on." you could feel that, since he made it sure to let you know he was still as hard as before.

"Here." you said as you picked some clothes that were clearly too big to be on your size. "You can wear this." now that's he's thinking about it, something doesn't add up.

"Why do you have male clothes in your closet?" who else wore these? And you dared to give them to him like it was nothing too.

"I like buying them since they're comfortable." oh, that was an option too. Why didn't he thought of that? I mean, it's been quite a while since you last been in a relationship, and he knows that since he always knows what you're doing. What if he's not paying attention to you one time and you get married? He can't possibly let you do that. That empty spot in your bed was reserved to him. "We needed to talk." you said after you got dressed, getting out your closet and walking outside your room.

"About what?" he knows this moment. You always make people sign an NDA before you get into a anything deeper. But what he doesn't like about your relationships is that it's almost never too intimate, you just go out, eat, spend some time together and then that's it. Did one of those fuckers left you disappointed and now you're avoiding contact with other people? How sad. But well, since you have him now you don't have to think about that anymore. He'll get you drunk on his dick, and he'll make sure you only have eyes for him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know if we can continue this." huh? That wasn't what you were supposed to say. "We still have to film the movie, and then the promotions. I don't want anything awkward between us."

"What about after?" you didn't said a thing, only looking down at your feet before looking at him. "So you did play with me, huh?" perhaps this was your revenge for making you feel weak. He can't believe you actually knew of his doings and you didn't said a thing.

"If you still feel the same after everything is done.." huh? What did you just said? You were actually going to give him a chance? The NDA still sounded better, and he'll sign it in a blink of an eye if you do hit him with one.

He thought that something would change, that you'd be more open to him. But no, you were still as distant as ever.

You were playing with him, weren't you? You were just playing dumb because you knew how he actually was feeling. Well, he too can tournament you. From that day onward he kept writing you everyday, placing the letters in really inconvenient places and watching your reaction from not that afar if he could.

He made sure to not let you rest a single moment while you were on the set. It did not lasted for long whatsoever, because the filming soon ended and the film was sent to editing, giving everybody a break until the promotions starts.

You skipped the party, lying about how you got a cold and you didn't want anyone else to catch it, so you stayed at home.

You still remember the day the trailer was published, the way your phone was blowing and how you didn't dared to even look at it that day. But when you did turned it on, everything was worse than you imagined.

The trailer opened with a scene of the city, then it got to the point of where the conflict started, and as you watched more, the more scenes from the movie were put in, the fighting, the peaceful times, and it ended with you and Satoru kissing against a wall. A big long scenes of just the two of you almost fucking in there, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

The comments? You could smell them from a mile away. You could hear screamings and whistles, like you knew exactly what people were talking about. And you were right because when you opened that section you were met with people talking about you and your costar rather than the trailer itself.

"Was the last scenes necessary?" a comment said, and you couldn't agree more to it. But the replies under it said otherwise.

Your social medias? Filled with people purring about you and Gojo. And he seemed to enjoy this as he kept liking comments about the two of you. And now people were officially calling him your husband. He was the one demanding to be called yours, not the other way. Because you weren't his property, he was yours.

You tried to get out the house in god knows how many days, finally going to the agency to talk to your manager about the situation. Can't you calm it down somehow? And the answer was no. The media was responding so positively about this, you couldn't just say something about it when you were put in such a good light. I mean, look, there were so many people requesting for you appearance than any other times before. Your team was busy responding to phone calls and emails for you.

So many people wanted you in their movies, because if they get you they also get Gojo. Since he apparently, you have no idea when, said that he won't act in a movie unless you're there. And if you accepted a role, then they automatically get Satoru too. Killing two birds with one stone. Having two of the most hot actors, who happened to be a so called power couple, acting in their movie was a free pass to the most sold movie of the year.

But you didn't even looked at those offers, no matter how good they were. You don't want to get involved with him anymore, he was only going to bring you problems.

Instead of accepting any offers, you decide to make a quick appearance on some big show that only asked for you to participate. The first thing you heard today that didn't involved Gojo's name into it.

You were so happy to go there, all a smile and stress free knowing that you don't have to get involved with that guy any time soon.

Did you really think that it was going to be that easy? You just got there on the set and you were met with one of the questions you were trying to avoid.

"First of all, I'm a big fan." the host said when you sat down on the couch. "But I don't really wanna say much so your boyfriend won't get jealous." you awkwardly laughed. "How is he, btw?" you had no idea what to say.

"You know." you said, biting your lip and trying to think of an excuse. "We both been busy." you don't even know in what county is he right now.

"I'm sure you are." the interview went on, moving to other discussions and you managed to forget about the white haired man for a moment. "Hold on a second." the host said as they talked to a staff member. "So, um, I was informed about something. And, Y/N, we actually have a gift for you?" how sweet, you thought. Only to be welcomed with your costar on the set, making the audience clap. "What a surprise, right?" you smiled, putting on your same old business smile on as you tried to keep your composure.

"I was nearby and I was thinking why not paying a visit." he lied as he got closer to the couch.

"It's always nice to have you here." the host said. "Please sit down, I actually wanted to ask about the new movie you two played in."

"I'd love to but I'm kinda in a hurry." he leaned down towards you, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and messing with your hair for a moment. "You two have fun." he said as he got away from you. "I have to go now. I wasn't even supposed to stop to begin with." he waved as he left, making the audience sound way too happy about this.

"Relax, no need to be shy." the host said, looking at your expression. "We already saw the trailer, it's nothing we haven't seen already." you wanted to cry. "So, about the movie. Does it have more of those scenes or were we deceived with the trailer?" you'll make sure to pick a written interview next.

"I'm not really sure if I should talk about it.." you tried to change the subject.

"It's not like you're spoiling the movie for us. We're curious about you and your partner." and that's what you don't like.

"Well.." everybody's eyes were on you. "Let's just say that you'll see more." that was enough to make the crowd go crazy.

Because of that guy now you can't even deny that you two aren't together anymore.

You would have been alright with all of this if the nothing happened between the two of you, and if Gojo felt the same way as you. But he seemed to push the idea of something happening between the two of you to the public. It was driving you crazy because you didn't know how to react. You always told yourself that you won't get involved with anyone from the industry, that you'll make a few more movies and then retire, find someone simple and live an almost normal life.

But instead you're here, stuck with media actually approving of this non existent relationship.

You have to talk to Satoru next time you see him. But you never really got the chance to do that in private when the promotions started.

Interview after interview and it only looked like you were surrounded by more and more people. And he didn't wanted to talk to you when you tried to pull him aside, talking about how people will think something inappropriate about the two of you when he was the one who was saying stupid things in front of the camera.

Now it was the premiere, having to stay arm in arm with him the whole time. And he doesn't hold back even for a moment, letting his hands roam around your body and making the crowd go insane.

"Let's talk." you whispered to him, making him lower his head so he could hear you.

"What about?" he was playing dumb, he already knew what you wanted to say.

"Do you have some time later?" you said as you wrapped your arm around his, following his lead as he was guiding you around the red carpet.

"Who knows." he said that, but at the after party you managed to trap him in a corner not allowing him to go away before he had a talk with you. "There are people watching." a smile on his face as he said that, looking at your angry face as you had him pinned to the wall.

"I don't care. You're going to run again." look at how the roles switched. He had no idea you would actually try to confront him.

"Then." he wrapped his arms around you, looking down at you and grinning from ear to ear. "What do you want to talk about."

"People are thinking that we really are in a relationship." your current position wasn't any better either. People were giving you looks like you were being perverts in public.

"They are?" why was he acting shocked when he was the one feeding that idea to others.

"We don't have to pretend anymore." you said, but that only made him to drag you closer.

"You said you'd give me a chance after we're done with the movie." you said a lot of things that you didn't mean, why was this any different.

"I just said that I don't want people to think we're in a relationship. What do you not get?" snap at him more, he can't be any happier than he's at that moment. He leaned down, his face getting closer to yours and placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Keep your promises, don't disappoint me." you huffed, turning your face in another direction only for him to turn it back towards him and kiss you on your lips. "Let's get out of here. It started to get boring anyway." why did you listen to him was a mystery, why you followed him to his car and back to his house was something you couldn't figure it out. And how you ended up in his bed? You can't really respond to that either.

He was kissing you, hands under your clothes and trying to get them off as fast as he could. Moaning into your mouth whenever you touched him, pushing his body into yours and trying to become one with you in a way or another.

How could you think that you could leave him? What would he do if he doesn't have you? What is he supposed to do from now on if he can't think about you 24/7? To even dare to think about abandoning him, he's going to punish you for this.

"Turn around." that stupid dress was in his way, he can't believe your stylist really made you wear this. What if there are fuckers out there who still dares to look at you even after he made it very clearly who you belong to.

Well, whatever. He'll make sure to get rid of that stylist of yours. Not a big problem.

He kissed your back as your skin became exposed to him. With a swift movement taking your panties off and throwing them somewhere easy to spot, to not forget to take them later.

You had to tell him to take his clothes off so you could catch a break, otherwise he would have took you there from how impatient he was.

You just stood there, at the edge of his bed, one leg over the other and looking at him trying to take off his tie faster. He really had to wear a fucking suit, now look at him, he was about to rip it off him. And look at you, you look so calm about this, enjoying seeing him struggle while he was losing his mind. "Undress me." he looked down at you, taking a few steps closer to you, and taking your hand in his and placing over his white shirt to unbutton it.

You might as well do it, you don't see why not. But the problem was him and his stubbornness. Kissing you, almost pushing you in bed while you were just trying to do as he said. It took a long time, and the task seemed to never end, but here you were now, with him on top of you and making you wrap your legs around him. No fancy party could make him miss this, in fact he couldn't even care about that damn premiere to begin with.

His hands were traveling on your body, touching you in some of his favorite places. You were so warm, he couldn't help himself. How you gasp whenever he's groping you, dragging you closer to him so he could feel you even closer, even if there was no more space left between the two of you.

"Put it in already." you demanded, but he wasn't going to just give it to you yet. What if you struggle like last time? He can't let you say such dirty words again or you might not be able to walk at all tomorrow.

"There's no rush." you can act as cute as you want, he's going to take his time with you. After all, you need to see how good he can treat you, make you feel so good that all you'll remember is his name. He kissed your forehead before he moved his eyes on his hand that was going in between your legs. "Look how wet you are." you were a bit embarrassed about it. "And you said that you don't want me." your body can be more honest sometimes, and he'll love to learn more about it.

He got some of your juices on his fingers, moving it around your clit to see the way your body tensed immediately. Weren't you a needy one? He kissed the side of your face before pushing two of his fingers in, paying attention to the face you were making and at the way you were sucking him in.

He moved his hand at a relatively slow pace, it was more about to make you feel the way you're taking him, how deep his fingers can go compared to yours, or anybody else. You can only feel like this because of him. See the way you're still so tight? That's because he wasn't there to stretch you out the way you needed.

"Keep your eyes open, alright baby?" he spoke to you in a baby voice, making you feel like he was mocking you. "Don't hide from me." can't he just fuck you already? Why was he playing around so much.

You did tried to do as he said, keeping your eyes open and trying to avoid eye contact with him because it made your pissy clench. This was so embarrassing, the way he was taking his sweet time and giving you almost no friction at all, and how he seems to enjoy this. Like torturing you was bringing him pleasure.

He didn't let you say a word and smashed his lips against yours, placing his palm against your clit as he finally started to move like he means it. Curling his fingers up so hard it got you squirming and letting out a few moans. And you never seem to stay in place, moving around and arching your back every time he was hitting something that makes you see stars.

You were a mess, the way you were so wet that your juices got on his bedsheets, and the noises your body makes were so obscene and loud it was hard to ignore.

He noticed the way you look at him, pleading for some mercy like you were at your limit about to break. But there was so much more in you, one orgasm wasn't going to stop him from giving you another. And he swears on his name the next one will be even mind blowing.

That's when he took his hand back to himself, making you sit more comfortably in bed before he positioned back in between your legs. This time he'll make sure you'll stay awake and take all of him, there was no other way.

You looked at his face and then at his cock, at the way he had his head at your entrance, almost pushing it in. You'll take him? Like, you're really going to fit him? "You can do it." he said when he finally pushed some of his cock in. "Fuck." he cursed under his breath. "I know you can do it." he let out a moan, throwing his head back for a moment before moving his eyes back on you. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed and the cutest pout you ever showed him. It was like you really had a death wish, to fuck with his feelings like this and making his dick twitch. If he couldn't control himself any better he would had came right there on the spot. "Too much?" he said as he kept pushing his cock all the way in, making you nod as your words were stuck in your throat. "That's too bad."

You won't see any sympathy from him. Does he even knows what that means to begin with? You're too delicious, and the fact that he could pull even more expressions out of you made him push you over your limits.

So here he was, moving in and out of you way slower than he wants, rubbing your clit with his thumb and observing you like the pervert he is. He was salivating, drooling over your weak form as you showed him your off guard self. His cock twitching every time you let out a moan, and making you jolt at the sensation.

"Does it hurt?" he asked as he kept looking down at you, moving his hips in the same old motion. You nodded again, eyes still closed and biting your lip because of how he made you feel. He'll make it hurt even more, don't think that you can rest yet just because he's going easy on you. Fuck, he wants to sink his teeth into you so bad, leave marks all over your body as he rams his cock in and out of you.

But then you looked at him, big teary doe eyes that had him seeing a flash before him. He almost came, like, he almost cum just because you looked at him. If you want him to keep it together you have to talk some sense into him, because he doesn't think he can recover from that.

"You can move." no, don't give him a green light. Torment him more, play with his feeling and edge him till he's losing his damn mind. Don't be so sweet to him, he'll end up locking you up if you do that.

He pressed his chest against yours, his mouth finding yours as he started kissing you like the most starved man on earth. He moved his hips without a warning, slamming into you like you were his toy, and yet demanding for your touch. He was pushing himself into you, trying to steal the air away from your lungs as he seemed more desperate with each thrust.

He was looking into your eyes, waiting for you to snap at him and push him off, or tell him that's he's being too rough so he could stop being so delusional. But you didn't, only dragging him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him just as needy as he was, both of you being a moaning mess. And not letting go of each other even after you came, wanting to feel even more. To cum again and again, and to be filled by him to the brim, even if you knew that would bring you some serious problems later when you finally come back to your senses.

The next day you woke up with a sore body, your skin aching all over the place, and barely being able to get up the bed.

That didn't stopped you from getting dressed with some clothes you found around the room, what you can only assume it was his since they were way too big.

You got out the room, in hope to find your phone or maybe the white haired man so he could get you back home. And now you were in the living room, looking around for your things. Instead finding a letter, that seemed way too familiar.

That handwriting, you could recognize it everywhere. And that damn signature, the fucking S.

It was one of the letters he didn't managed to 'give' it to you yet. And honestly, you don't know if you should be relieved or terrified because this one was worse than anything before.

You turned around, paper still in your hand and looking at the tall guy who had his back pressed against the wall. He was expressionless, no thoughts behind his head as he seemed to stare at you like he was looking into the void.

It was him, that damn son of a bitch. He played with you all this time and you had no idea.

"I made you breakfast." he said, not every caring if you found out about his doings or not. "Come while it's still hot." he let out a laugh at your expression. You never hold back, do you? Can you at least try to not look like your about to kill him?

[blissfulip]

Surface Tension

on AO3

Steb x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: doctor!reader, anthro (does he count as a furry? idk), post-canon, just shameless smut

Cw: Dacryphilia

Words: 3.9k

[A/N: Steb has Selective Mutism in this fic, meaning he has the physical ability to speak but chooses not or is unable to due to social, psychological or other circumstances. Since we don't have any information on this in canon I have decided that for the purpose of the story, what prevents him from speaking is biological, he can only speak if his gills are properly wet, otherwise it hurts him, so he chooses not to most of the time.

Also, for reference on what his body looks like anatomy-wise, refer to this (also, let me know if you want to be tagged or removed in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass @thehistoriangirl @hypocritic-trash-baby @moonstrider9904

Happy Holidays from me to you  🎄

The knock was soft, tentative, like the wind testing the strength of a door. Steb looked up from the book resting on his lap, his fingers frozen mid-turn of a page. He tilted his head toward the sound, waiting, and when a second knock came he convinced himself to stand up. When the door creaked open, it wasn’t a draft that slipped through, but you, coat half-unbuttoned and cheeks pink from the cold.

He narrowed his eyes at you, his fingers lifting up to sign. 

“You’re early this month, should I be worried?” His hands hesitated halfway through the sentence.  

You smiled faintly, the kind of smile that seemed almost apologetic. “Not unless you’ve developed an allergy to soup.”

“You check on me once a month, doctor”, he signed slowly, “Routine, clinical. This isn’t that.”

“It’s not,” you agreed, unbuttoning your coat the rest of the way and draping it over the back of a chair. “It’s not an official visit, Violet mentioned you haven’t left your room in a while, and I’m on vacation so I thought I’d stop by.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of Vi, nosey, he thought to himself. The word vacation felt out of place in this room, he had been trying to get out of medical leave for the past month and go back to work, with no success. He scrunched up his nose, and then let out a sigh of resignation. 

“You didn’t have to come.” he signed.

“I wanted to.”

His hands stilled. The room felt heavier now, the tension fragile but unyielding like a drawn thread. Steb looked away first, his gaze sliding to the window where frost rimmed the edges of the glass. When he signed again, his movements were slower, almost uncertain. 

“You’re bad at taking vacations.”

That made you laugh—a soft, short sound that filled the room briefly before fading.

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

“Deep breath,” You instructed, your stethoscope cool against his chest. He complied, the effort visible in the furrow of his brow and the sharp rise and fall of his ribs. You listened, frowning slightly, before stepping back and meeting his eyes directly.

“You’ve had quite the ordeal.” You said. Steb nodded once, his jaw tight. He didn’t need the reminder. His chest still ached faintly, a ghost of the gas that had filled his lungs, its burn raw and relentless. “Does it hurt when you speak?”

Silence. You repeated your question when he didn’t answer, fearing he might not have heard you, and confused when you only received a stern look back. Vi, who had been sitting in a nearby chair keeping him company despite his protest, chimed in. “Do you know sign language? He has mutism”  

“Oh, that makes sense”, You said nodding, “I do, you can sign your answers.”

“Selective” He signed for the first time. 

“Hm?”

“Selective mutism, and yes, it hurts.”

“Good to know.” You nodded once more before continuing to examine him. “I’m keeping you here for observation for another few days. No arguments.”

Vi smirked. “Oh, he’ll argue.”

“I’m stubborn as well, let’s see if I can outlast you.”

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

He watched you move to the kitchenette, unpacking the bag of food with quiet precision. Bread, soup. Simple and practical. Your hands worked with a deliberate ease, as if you were trying to fill the silence with motion.

He stayed seated, his fingers curling and uncurling in his lap. You weren't here because you had to be. That much was clear. But the why of it lingered, unspoken, in the space between you both. He wanted to ask, but instead he watched you.

The room fell quiet again after you left, the faint echo of your footsteps lingering in Steb’s ears like the fading notes of a song. He sat motionless for a moment, staring at the empty bowl and crumbs on the table. Your visit left the space feeling fuller, even though it was now empty.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, his body aching with the subtle pull of exhaustion. He crossed the room to the corner where the tub waited, an old clawfoot basin half-filled with clean water he’d drawn earlier. The air already felt drier than he liked, the faint itch under his skin a reminder that it had been too long since his last proper soak. He shrugged off his shirt and let it fall to the floor, his greenish skin catching the dim light of the room, rougher than it should have felt, another sign he’d been neglecting himself. He stepped into the tub, the cool water lapping at his ankles before he lowered himself in completely.

The relief was immediate, a soft exhale escaping his nose as the water embraced him, its touch soothing the ache in his muscles and the dryness on his skin. He tilted his head back, letting his gills on his jaw flutter open as they met the water. He could almost feel his body pulling life from the moisture, the subtle tension in his chest easing with every passing second.

But even as the water worked its way through him, his thoughts stayed tangled. Your face lingered in his mind—your calm, steady voice, the way your fingers brushed the table before you left. The way you looked at him, not with pity or detachment, but with something quieter, warmer. He shut his eyes, sinking further into the water until only his nose and eyes remained above the surface. Your words replayed in his mind, I wanted to. Not I had to, not I should, but wanted.

He cared for you. Deeply, irrevocably, in a way that terrified him.

You stepped into your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you, tossed your coat over the back of a chair, not bothering to hang it up, and let the paper bag you’d carried back with you drop onto the counter to then walk over to the living room table. You reached for the book you’d left there, its pages dog-eared and scribbled with notes. The Anatomy and Physiology of Vastayan Subspecies was stamped in gold along its spine—a dense, technical text you’d been studying since Steb became your patient.

You flipped through the pages, fingers deftly skimming over sketches of gills, webbed hands, and intricate scale patterns. When she reached the section on the fish folk, your focus sharpened. The accompanying illustration was striking—detailed renderings of fins that ran in continuous lines down the backs and arms of the species, elegantly integrated into their musculature. You read through the notes in neat, clinical prose:

“The dorsal and arm fins of fish folk are highly sensitive, containing a dense concentration of nerve endings. In social and intimate contexts, tactile stimulation of these fins is known to elicit strong physiological and emotional responses, often interpreted as arousal. The evolutionary function remains speculative, though it is suggested this sensitivity aids in both bonding and self-preservation.”

You sat back, breath catching in your throat briefly. The words lingered with their implications vivid in your mind. You thought about Steb, the way he moved, always careful to not make any abrupt movements, something you had attributed to his personality. Curiosity flared unexpectedly, sharp and unwelcome. What would it feel like, you wondered, to trace the edge of his back…You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks. The thought had come unbidden, intrusive, and entirely inappropriate. With a sharp inhale, you snapped the book shut and pressed your fingers to your temples.

“This is research,” you muttered to yourself aloud, the tone brusque as if saying it could push the thought away. “It’s important to understand. That’s all.”

But even as you placed the book back on the table and tried to focus on something else, the image of him and the way he always held himself with quiet restraint—refused to leave your mind. 

Steb made up his mind sometime during the night, as the water soothed him and his thoughts swirled. He needed to see you—not as a patient, but as… something else. Someone else. He couldn’t name what that was yet, but he knew the need was undeniable. By the time he reached your apartment, the air was crisp with the early chill, his breath curling in soft plumes as he adjusted the scarf around his neck. He knocked lightly, a polite rhythm that belied the tension he felt inside.

When you opened the door, you looked startled at first, hair loose and face soft in the morning light. “Steb?” you said, blinking at him. Her eyes flicked to his damp scarf, then back to his face. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head quickly and your brows furrowed in concern as you stepped aside to let him in. The room smelled faintly of coffee and lavender, the latter likely coming from the small candle burning on the counter. He left his scarf on a chair and took a seat at the small table, his movements careful as always, and waited until you settled across from him.

“So?” you said, your voice calm but with a thread of urgency.

He leaned forward, signing deliberately. “When my gills are wet it doesn’t hurt to talk”.

Your eyes widened slightly, “Are you sure?,” you blurted out, as you stood, not waiting for a response. “It explains the discomfort you described, I don't know how I never thought about it.”

Back when you first met him at the hospital, he attributed his elective mutism to the fact that it hurt him to talk. You ran numerous tests on his oesophagus, vocal cords and so many other things that yielded no conclusive results.

He hesitated, feigning a sheepish shrug, “Realized last night”.

“If it’s true this changes everything,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, as you paced back and forth, “We’ll need to adapt your care plan…hydration protocols, speech therapy, we can get a humidifier and…” You stopped on your tracks and looked at him as an idea surged in your mind.

“What?” Steb signed.

“We have to test it.” You said grabbing the anatomy book off the table along with a pencil and quickly moving on to walk all the way to your bathroom, dragging him with you by the arm before he had any time to protest. 

The walls of the bathroom were cloaked in the mottled green of old tiles, their edges chipped like broken teeth. Time had sunk into the grout, leaving darkened veins that spidered in uneven paths, whispering tales of hands long gone. The light overhead buzzed faintly, casting a dim yellow halo that couldn’t quite chase the shadows from the corners. The tiles, damp to the touch, exhaled a faint mineral tang that clung to the air, mingling with the metallic drip-drip of the showerhead. 

Much like his own bathroom, this one carried the promise of comfort and relief, but with the circumstances at hand the shower itself made Steb feel weary. Its once-proud chrome dulled and speckled with rust, as if it had wept along with those who stood beneath it. Water marked its passage in faint trails, a tapestry of use etched upon the walls. 

You leaned over to turn one of the valves and quickly leaned back to avoid the steady stream that cascaded as a result, turning to look at him with an invitation in your gaze. His eyebrows shoot up then furrowed deeply, a silent scoff playing across his face as his nose wrinkled ever so slightly, repelled by the mere thought. 

“Do you have a better idea?” You said in response to his negative.

“These shoes are velvet.” He signed.

“Well not with your clothes on, duh” You said. 

No more than 3 seconds went by, but the amount of thoughts that went through Steb’s mind made it seem like time did not exist, and he had been standing there in silence looking like an idiot for an eternity and then some. His first instinct was indignation—eyes darting to your face to gauge whether you were serious. You were, of course, your tone carried no malice, just a clinical, matter-of-fact assurance that this was perfectly reasonable. 

His chest tightened. He felt heat creeping up his neck, a prickle of something. Embarrassment, maybe, but deeper, sharper. Why did his skin feel so tight, his breath so loud? Yet your eyes held him like an anchor, and against all logic, he found himself nodding, hands fumbling with maroon plastic buttons. Perhaps if you hadn’t looked, if you had kept your eyes somewhere between his face and the far wall, they wouldn’t have hovered over his hands and consequently landed on his collarbones. It was mere scientific curiosity at first—or so you tried to tell yourself—why you marveled at the sight of him. 

He was so different from what Piltover knew about his species, and you could pinpoint so many details you wanted to take note of. You stood with the book clasped tightly, fingers curling just a touch too hard around the edges. Your posture was straight and composed, but there was a tautness in your shoulders, a stiffness in the way you shifted the weight between your feet, the collar around your neck unable to mask the faint flush creeping up. 

The silence buzzed between you louder than the hum of the fluorescent light above, and was only broken by the sound of his belt buckle falling on the floor tiles, a metallic clang that echoed all over the cold walls and instinctively broke the eye contact you had been trying to maintain, bringing both of you out of the awkward trance you unknowingly shared. He walked into the shower and stood there as the water completely soaked his skin. 

“You should walk back a few steps, you’re getting…”

You heard his voice very few times before, and cherished each one of them. Once a few months back you asked him what the nurse had added to his iv drip, the cold dusk lighting coming through the window shone over his sleepy face, and you could see as his eyes looked to the side and worked hard to remember if there was a sign for ‘saline solution’. A big sigh of resignation was followed by him saying it and you gasping in surprise. You tried to play it off but your reaction got a smile out of him, and you could’ve sworn you’d never seen that either. You only heard him twice after that, one time when he called you over to check something and the last one a short ‘eh’ that punctuated a lazy shrug. 

An entire sentence was something else, you were able to make out the lilt in his tone and a vague accent dancing on his vowels. You almost asked him to speak again so you could hear the slight rasp in his voice, but your body was quicker than you; before you could even register what you were doing both of your hands were already on either sides of his face and the book on the floor, you let out a full belly laugh, not for one second concerned by your now completely drenched arms. However, it lasted only half a second and the sharp gasp came before the tumble as your foot slid on the slick floor of the shower’s tiled edge. The world seemed to lurch for a split second before Steb’s arms shot out to grip your shoulders instinctively, his chest rumbling with a low, warm laugh, breaking the tension. You stayed like that a moment too long—his hands still cold on your arms, breaths mingling in the close, humid air—before you straightened yourself with a nervous chuckle. 

“Could I, eh, compare some of the information I have on the book?” You said delicately slithering out of his grasp to pick up the heavy volume you had hurled across the small room earlier. He nodded, and waited still for you to flip back to the correct page. You skimmed through the text until your eyes landed on the passage you had highlighted the night before; ‘…tactile stimulation of these fins is known to elicit strong physiological and emotional responses…’ you hummed to yourself, unsure. 

“Turn around, will you? I want to check the dorsal fins.” And he did, unceremoniously. “Do you know what they do?”

“No, I can’t reach them, does your book say something about it?”

“You look very different, I’m not sure how accurate any of these ‘facts’ are.” You said, looking at him and back at the illustrations on the book a couple of times. “Mind if I test something out?”

“Go ahead,” he said, looking back over his shoulder.    

They were translucent and filmy, wet and slightly slimy to the touch, not scaly like you were expecting when you reached over and ran your fingers along the fins on his back. You would have spent hours pondering and observing the taut and elastic webbing on them if you hadn’t been brought back to reality by the husky groan he let out. Panic came over you. 

“Did it hurt? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone at it so carelessly, I thought…” You blurted out.

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” He said, leaning on the wall in front of him with both hands, head down like he was trying to catch his breath. It dawned on you like a ton of bricks, out of all the things this stupid book got right it had to be this. Guilt immediately crept up your throat, but you weren’t allowed to mull it over any longer before Steb spoke again. “You…you can do it again, if you’d like, if you need to.”

Once again your hands acted off their own bat, your fingers started a path, slower, more intentional, from the nape of his neck all the way down to the small of his back. This time around you cared not about the impossibly slick and almost amphibian quality of his skin, you observed him. The way his ears twitched slightly and the fins that ran all the way down his arms fluttered, similar to how a human’s skin would get goosebumps. You paid close attention to how the muscles on his arms tensed up and his legs shivered, and a second time, a gravelly sound coming out of his mouth, more whiny than the last.

“I’m sorry, I knew this would happen and still…” He tried to say through heavy panting. 

You couldn’t really pretend you were still doing this for the science of it, not after you saw one of his hands come down to his crotch. He turned, both hands covering up what was clearly an erection. You didn’t want him to apologize, not for something you had shared control over, so you showed him. 

Both of your hands grazed down the fins on his arms in tandem. His reaction wasn’t different, but this time you could look at his face, a beautiful painting of arousal that culminated with him holding onto both of your arms for balance and his head buried on your shoulder. You allowed him to breathe, and when he sluggishly lifted his head up to look at you, the wicked grin on his face warned you about what was to come. 

The kiss was ferocious, hungry, the water almost steaming as it came in contact with the scalding heat of skin. You weren’t used to this much humidity, and he could tell from the way you gasped for air when he turned his attention away from your lips to nibble at your neck, so he helped you out of your soaked shirt and pants before gently pushing out of the bathroom. 

It wasn’t his first time at your apartment, so the walk to your room was seamless and the kissing never stopped until you felt the back of your knees graze the edge of your bed. He nudged you down gently but he didn’t come with, instead, he took off your underwear, and as he lowered himself you spread out your legs almost instinctively. 

The feel of his tongue was indescribable, rough but not too much that it hurt when he gave a long intentional lick to your folds, but just enough to elicit an initial shock and an immediate whiny moan to come out of you. He licked your still dewy skin all the way to your neck, and after a small nibble to your ear he started to kiss you again, the sharp nails of one of his hands digging into your thigh as the other struggled to remove the damp fabric of his own underwear. 

You were still dizzy from the heat of the water and the steam, so it took you a while to notice he was looking at you and waiting for confirmation. 

“Huh?” 

He looked down at where his hand firmly gripped his cock and then looked back up again, eyebrows raised in a guise that screamed uncertainty. 

You nodded, “Please.” You said almost embarrassingly eagerly. But he gave you no time to overthink before he was inches deep. 

You could only arch up into each fleeting touch and hope Steb would give you more, each small grunt coming out of him adding fuel to the fire in your core. When he lifted one of your legs to lay over his shoulders it was like electricity ran through your spine with every thrust, and he noticed how you felt, the knitted frown he usually carried turning into a smug look you had never seen before. 

Occasionally he would pull back and look at you for a second, a torturous second that felt like a year. He seemed to revel in torturing you, seeing you get whiny and desperate before plunging into you mercilessly. Each time you were incoherent, begging for something and nothing in particular, and each time he would thrust into you harder. He waited longer that time, waited as you arched your hips in frustration and your eyes swelled up with tears, he waited until you vocalized your pleas before he continued and inched closer to your face with a triumphant smile when he saw the tears trickle down your cheeks. 

You were too worked up to wipe them off, and that was, you noticed in hindsight, exactly his intention, since he reached out his hand behind your neck and pulled you closer to lick them clean as they streamed out of your eyes. After that it was mostly a blur, he railed into you with no stops or pauses, all you could feel was an overwhelming pressure building up in your core and finally a release as your orgasm crept up. After a few more minutes you heard him groaning loudly in your ears and opened your eyes to a sight of wonder, worked up, panting, his wet hair sticking to the greenish skin of his forehead, and a little smile in the corner of his mouth. 

“Breath,” You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until then, and let out a long sigh followed by a chuckle of relief. His skin was mostly dry now, so his voice was hoarse. 

He pulled out slowly and started kneading the skin of your hip to dispel the tension when he let your leg down, hoping it wouldn't be sore the next day, but you had a different idea.

“Come, let’s get you wet again, I have so many questions to ask you.” You said as you got out of bed and extended one hand. He took it, but instead of going after you he used it to pull you back to bed next to him. 

“Tomorrow,” he signed.   

[beifong-brainrot]

I do find it annoying how a lot of Zutara fans tweak the character's stories, personalities and even the timelines to suit their own needs.

Once again, there's nothing wrong with fanon and headcanons, however if looking through the lense of canon, you're objectively wrong.

I ended up stumbling on a post from a Zutara shipper. (At this point I'm regretfully considering not following the tags for Zuko or Katara because I get way too much Zutara content lol) I'm not replying directly to her because I don't want this to turn into an argument, and I know she doesn't take criticism very well.

Ok, So let's break this down.

The character who was first out of the group to trust Zuko?

I'm quite sure this is referring to the scene in Ba Sing Se's caves. And yes, that is a very important scene. I think it's a very important scene preceeding Zuko's 'relapse'. It shows how he's matured during his time in Ba Sing Se and therefore it serves to add to our dismay when he joins Azula. I adore the fact that Zuko's journey to redemption is not linear, it certainly adds a lot to the character and shows us how his trauma affected him.

It's also a horrific moment for Katara. To have her worldview on Zuko and firebenders as a whole challenged, and then for it to go blowing up in her face. It rips open old wounds of her childhood. It refreshes her resentment of Zuko and the Fire Nation as a whole. It parallels the death of her mother when Aang dies due to Azula's lighting and she is unable to do anything about it. It places her back in that spot of helplessness. Even though she's grown up, even though she's a master waterbender, she still comes a hair's breadth to losing one of the most important people in her life.

No wonder she hated Zuko so much after this.

It's an important moment for both characters, but I wouldn't say it is that in a romantic sense. It's a sweet, hopeful moment that then turns absolutely horrific and visceral for both parties.

I could argue that there are other characters who could be given the title of 'first to trust Zuko'. Funnily, Appa being one of them lol.

But other characters trusting Zuko dovetails nicely into the next point.

The character who emotionally connects to Zuko?

Well, technically, I'd argue that most members of the Gaang connect emotionally on one level or another with him?

But I'd argue that Aang is the person Zuko connected with the most. Aang is Zuko's parallel. Aang is the first person to reach out to Zuko. Aang is the person who showed mercy to Zuko, multiple times. Aang is the person who valued Zuko's life, the life of someone whose whole life goal is to capture him.

This was also an incredibly important moment to Zuko. This is the thing he brings up when trying to convince the Gaang to let him join.

Zuko: Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.

The character Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around?

It's Mai. Love her or hate her, her relationship with Zuko is incredibly important to him. Maiko isn't my favourite Zuko ship, in full honesty. But even platonically, Mai and Zuko are one another's reprieve from their respective shitty lives.

People often talk about Katara touching Zuko's scar while discussing healing his scar, however one could argue that she did so as a medical examination. Mai touching Zuko's scar is a casual thing, neither of them really make a big deal of it and that's the beauty of it.

I'm mainly talking out of my own personal experience, as someone with a huge amount of burn scars, but there is a world of difference between someone inspecting my scars like Katara did and simply accepting them as a part of me, like Mai does for Zuko.

With Mai, Zuko isn't the scarred banished prince, Ozai's son or Azula's brother. He's just Zuko. And they speak freely with one another, arguing like real people do. Often, being comfortable having arguments is actually a sign of being comfortable with one another.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?

Once again, this is a bit of a flawed question. By the end of the show, Zuko isn't even fully healed, in my opinion. He has made leaps and bounds on the road to recovery, but when he will truly heal if ever is yet to be seen.

Zuko's journey to recovery includes plenty of people. This includes Iroh, Aang, Song and Jin. People who show him the error of his coping mechanism. Who challenge his worldview, who coax him out of the his shell of pain and anger.

The character known for showing most compassion to others?

Yes, Katara's compassion is a huge part of her character. Her need to help and protect those who cannot do that for themselves cannot be understated.

But Aang's compassion for others and all beings is just as great, if not greater than Katara's. Compassion and nonviolence are huge parts of his culture and his own philosophy.

Aang: Wait, we can't just leave him here. Sokka: Sure we can. Let's go. Aang :No, if we leave him he'll die. Aang airbends himself off Appa and retrieves Zuko, bringing him to Appa. Sokka: [Sarcastically.] Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.

Friendly reminder that Aang could've absolutely wrecked Ozai, but held back because his own moral compass was so powerful. Hell, he was friendly and nice to Azula, the woman who literally killed him.

This is why Aang and Katara work so well together. They're both incredibly compassionate people who will immediately jump in to help others in need. Like they did during the Painted Lady, destroying the factiry together.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role?

I think "parental role" is an incredibly vague term. There's a lot of things that go into a "parental role". Katara plays a stereotypically "maternal" role, while someone who plays a "paternal" one would probably be Sokka.

Katara deals with very "homemaking" tasks like sewing and cooking, etc. And Sokka often takes on the role of leader, hunter, gatherer and also protector, despite being a nonbender.

This coincides nicely with their core childhood traumas. The loss of Katara's mother impacted her greatly, leading her to have to step up into a motherly role. While Sokka was clearly heavily traumatised by his father departing and the crushing responsibility of having to care for his entire village.

Sexism also probably played a part in this dichotomy.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others?

I'd argue that this could apply to all the members of the Gaang in some capacity.

Aang's pain is something most of us will never experience and cannot hope to understand. The complete horrific destruction of his culture and home followed him through the entire show. He was entitled to his grief and rage, yet he supressed it. We see during Appa's kidnapping, how easy it would be for Aang to rage, to let himself be destructive. And yet, he wakes up every day and chooses to smile and goof off, because his friends need someone to remind them how to be children.

Sokka puts on a very impressive bravado, despite having a lot of insecurities. However, as the oldest member of the Gaang (pre Zuko) he puts on a facade of the confident and unbothered older brother. Even if he's the butt of almost every joke, he still keeps that demeanour up, letting it slip only a few times.

I'd actually argue that Toph is the person whom this label fits best. While we know Toph as witty, callous and strong, we have to remember that she kept up the facade of her parents' good, helpless little blind girl for no reason other than her mother and father's comfort. She actually hides a lot of her hurt, covering it up with a prickly exterior.

I want to do longer think pieces about Toph and Katara so apologies if this isn't complete.

I'm actually baffled by the idea of Katara repressing her emotions. She's actually quite straightforward and open about her feelings. She yells and feels a lot of emotions and lets them be heard. She gets angry and sad. She's actually kinda bitchy sometimes and that's honestly why I love her so much.

The whole inciting incident of the show was her getting so pissed off she somehow pulls a giant iceberg from the bottom of the sea.

She is anything but repressed.

She is angry.

She's angry at the fire nation, at Sokka, at her father, at men, and with good right to be so.

This is what makes her an amazing character and one who broke the mould of a lot of female characters at the time. Her anger and unrestrained emotions rang true with a lot of watchers at the time. I'm not sure why this is being taken away from her rather than celebrated.

I reiterate the point I made at the beginning of this post: there is nothing wrong with headcanons and fanon interpretations for one's enjoyment. I do find it a bit odd when it changes a character too much (because then, why not just create an oc?) but it's all in good fun. However, you shouldn't push that onto other people and how they perceive canon and you certainly shouldn't use it to take away from other characters. It's a very unfair way of entering discourse.

[hot-glenn-valentines-2025]

HEY YOU! YEAH THAT'S RIGHT, YOU! ARE YOU AWARE OF THE HOT GLENN VALENTINE'S 2025 EVENT?!?!?

Oh, you aren't? Heh, well that makes sense, it's the first time we're announcing it! You heard it right folks, we had so much fun with you all during the 2023 Hot Glenn Holidays event that we're back to celebrate the festivities à la Glenn once more, this time for a four-day Valentine's Day event from February 11th to the 14th 😎💗. Here are some general rules and guidelines for the event (please read):

💞: The official tag for the event is #hot glenn valentines 2025. Please use this tag on works related to the event to ensure that we see it! You can also @ us directly (which we encourage you to do as well, especially since things do not always show up in the tags). Everything made as part of the event will be reblogged to the event blog (please specify in your post if you would rather not have it shared on the main blog for whatever reason).

💘: (Update) Daily prompts for the event can be found here! Do not feel obliged to adhere to the prompts, they're meant to be for fun and to offer structure/inspiration to those looking for it.

💋: NSFW works are allowed, we love sexualizing that old man, but please take caution to mark explicit material as you normally would. Additionally, we reserve the right to exclude any work from the event (nsfw or otherwise) at our own discretion. If you are uncertain whether or not your idea is appropriate for the event, don't be shy to reach out and ask! Explicit materials will be reblogged to the event blog under the #suggestive and the #not safe for daddies tags, depending on what fits.

💟: Romantic love? Platonic love?? Whatever Glenn and Darryl had going on when they were arguing over car oil??? We want it all! In fact, if you just want to create something Glenn-themed that doesn't directly relate to any kind of love or relationships, that's dope too, as long as you love what you're bringing to the table!

💓: Art, fanfiction, cosplay, fan songs!? Everything goes, as long as it's Glenn-related, of course.

💝: If you choose to participate, don't feel obligated to create something for every day of the event! Any and all participation is appreciated!

💖: If you are late for the prompts or just otherwise complete things later than expected, don't fret! We will be accepting works as part of the event (and reblogging them to the event blog) for a full week after the event has ended.

💌: If you have any questions at all, please don't hesitate to send us an ask!

We're so incredibly excited to celebrate this event with you fine folk, and in the meantime we would super appreciate you helping to spread the word! :] You'll hear again from us real soon, and in the meantime, lots of love from us to you!!!

P.S. Be sure to follow this event blog for updates!

[utilitycaster]

The people who get on every D&D post, no matter how untagged

Guy presenting the most basic obvious DM-ing tip of all time as if it is a rare pearl of wisdom. Technically guy is gender neutral here but also 99% of the time this is a mansplainer

Person who is trying really hard to argue that Paizo is a scrappy little indie darling

Person who is trying to convince you that a genuine scrappy little indie darling game that is extremely niche and completely unlike D&D in every way is what you actually want to be playing in lieu of D&D instead of, perhaps, in addition to D&D

Person who, when you point out the above re: the games they are recommending, calls you a capitalist bootlicker for enjoying a popular game you already own and don't need to spend any more money on and indeed haven't spent money on in several years, and argues that you must prove you are True Supporter of Anticapitalism by buying their favorite game.

Person who has clearly had a really terrible specific D&D experience tied to an egregiously bad DM or other player assuming this is universally a problem

"All that matters is that everyone has fun! This statement is useful, actionable, relevant, and definitely not meaningless pablum said by people with nothing of worth to add but nonetheless insist on speaking."

Forty separate people who talk about their D&D game at length in the tags despite it being tangentially related at best

Of those forty, one will specifically talk about a game that sounds like a horrifying nightmare for everyone involved but will not indicate they FEEL that way about it

One person will talk about their D&D game very briefly in a way that is actually directly related to the content of the post and is beautifully illustrative

person who is deeply into Forgotten Realms lore and does not realize that like 95% of D&D players are NOT deeply into Forgotten Realms lore (this is shifting with BG3 but still) and are basically that xkcd meme

[redtsundere-writes]

Off Limits | Gojo Satoru

Student!Gojo Satoru x New Student!Reader

Summary: There was only one rule at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School: Don't Fall In Love With Satoru Gojo.

Tags: Gender neutral reader. Fluff. Only read once. Canon compliant.

Words: 2150 words.

A/N: I had this old wip, sitting around. Better post it than not lol

There was only one rule at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School. One simple rule that you had to follow if you wanted to have a peaceful student life. A simple rule that all students had to follow to avoid unnecessary fights. A simple rule that seemed ridiculous until you saw who it was about. That simple rule was: Don't fall in love with Gojo Satoru. 

“Don't fall in love with Gojo Satoru,” your desk mate warned you on the first day of school. You were already confused and scared about entering a sorcery school, now you were being warned by your own classmates. That gave you a bad impression of the school environment. “If you fall in love, they'll break your bones and your heart.” You swallowed hard. 

Satoru Gojo. Besides being the sole member of the Gojo Clan, there were many rumors circulating as to why he was at the Tokyo campus and not Kyoto’s, like the vast majority of powerful sons of the most important sorcery clans. Throughout the hallways, they said that it was because he constantly fought against the seniors at the neighboring school. Others said it was because he had made out with all the girls in his class. Evil tongues said it was because he was so powerful that he had accidentally killed a student, but being the head of the Gojo Clan, no one did anything. 

What was a fact was that everyone avoided him to avoid confirming any of the rumors. The boys avoided him because they didn't want to fight with a semi god, and the girls avoided him so they would not have to fight within each other for him. The only ones who talked to him directly were the teachers and his best friend, Suguru Geto. 

Even though no one approached him, everyone looked at him. He was a hot topic every time he deigned to come to class. Just by looking at him, you understood that this simple rule was not as simple as it seemed. Soft snowy hair, flawless skin, sharp jaw, slender torso, long legs and the confidence of a thousand men in his walk. His mere existence seemed impossible to you, such a perfectly sculpted being couldn’t be real. He had to be the reincarnation of an archangel or some such divinity. Your eyes spied him while your mouth swept the floors as you watched him enter his classroom. You only saw him for 5 seconds, but it seemed to have lasted longer. 

Despite having fallen for Gojo Satoru's charms despite warnings, no one noticed. Maybe it was because everyone had reacted the same way upon seeing him, but you weren't about to argue with your luck. You had a good first day of school. You made friends, ate the bento you made yourself at home for lunch and slept through a class, it couldn't have gone better. Being new, you were left alone to clean the classroom as an initiation prank. You cleaned the windows, swept the floor and washed the desks. You looked at the impeccable classroom, proud of yourself. 

The metal bucket clattered to the floor as you left the utensils in the school storeroom. You placed the broom next to the others and stored the window cleaner on its respective shelf. The sun was setting once you put everything away. The school looked like a wasteland with no one around. The green grass, the tall buildings that were now orange in the evening light and the wind that heralded the arrival of autumn. You headed towards the exit to finally return home, but the hollow sound of a bouncing ball caught your attention. 

You approached the open gym door and peeked curiously inside. His pearly hair moved subtly in the air like falling goose feathers, his delicate hands gently grasped the ball and his glasses reflected his intentions. It was the archangel playing basketball. He bounced the terracotta ball endlessly and then threw it into the basket. Again and again. A perfect shot every time. He was a great player without a doubt. After he shot the ball for a basket, he stopped.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked, looking in your direction. How did he realize you were watching him? You hid behind the door to pretend you weren't there. “I can still see you,” he said in a playful voice. 

You looked to your left and to your right. There was no one around. You came out of hiding to introduce yourself, but he was already beside you. You gasped and jumped back, not expecting him to be so close. He was too fast. At your reaction, Satoru laughed out loud. 

“You're like a scaredy-cat,” he chuckled before dropping down to your level to get a closer look. “Have we met before?” I ask you, analyzing your face. 

“I saw you this morning at lunch,” you stammered back. 

“That's right! You're the new girl.” Satoru remembered seeing you in the hallway. 

Gojo Satoru was used to driving girls crazy. Ever since he was a kid, he had attracted the attention of all the girls in his class despite his spoiled and arrogant attitude. He was used to making the girls blush and hide out of embarrassment. They always did it modestly so it wouldn't be so obvious. So when he saw you with your wide eyes and your jaw to the floor without an ounce of shame, he couldn't help but find it adorable. 

You bounced the ball while watching Satoru in front of you. Even though your nerves were on edge from playing with such an attractive guy, you decided to give it your best shot. He was bent at your level with his arms outstretched to keep you from getting close to the basket. You dribbled between your legs to feint Satoru that you were going to run to the right. He darted in that false direction, but you ended up running with the ball all the way to the left. You ran to the basket to shoot.

“So you do know how to play,” Satoru said with a smile as he took the ball in his hands. 

“A little bit,” you replied with a proud smile for having faked someone twice as tall as you. 

“It looks like I'll have to get serious.” Satoru smiled determinedly, rolling up his sleeves. 

You swapped places. Now he had the ball, and you had to keep him from making a point. He bounced the ball in front of you, bouncing up and down between his hands and the floor. He smiled at you, confident that he would take the point in this round. He took the ball in his hands and shot it from the three-point line. The ball landed perfectly in the basket thanks to his technique. “Yeah, it was obvious he would do that,” you thought before sighing. 

“Don't hate the player, hate the game,” he said with a smile as white as his hair. 

“I don't hate the game, it just makes it more boring,” you answered before chasing the ball. 

“Boring?” He didn't understand what you meant. 

“I mean, with your height and skill it's obvious you're going to win. Knowing you're going to win doesn't make it boring?” You explained. 

“You may have a point,” Satoru thought out loud. “Then make it more interesting by thinking you can beat me. Ignore logic and just do your best.” 

That was another way of looking at things. You passed the ball between your hands as a metaphor for your mind debating whether you should listen to him or not. Even though there was no way you could beat him, you should at least try not to lose face. That way, you could say “at least I tried”. Isn't that how the world works? Trial and error to the point of exhaustion. All in the name of progress. It was such a simple thing, but it had opened your eyes. What else did Gojo Satoru have to teach you? 

You took a deep breath before the first dribble. You crouched down to try a feint, this time, from the opposite side. You moved your body to the left, but the ball moved to the right. Satoru followed the ball this time, blocking your path. You turned your back to him to keep the ball in your zone. You hit his body with your shoulder to look for a tackle. 

“Hey! You're playing dirty!” This time it would be difficult for him to take the ball away from you. 

“Don't hate the player, he hates the game,” you returned with a confident smile. Satoru chuckled, offended that you used his words against him.

You were going to try another feint. This time you would bounce the ball between your opponent's long legs, then chase the ball and dunk it. It sounded easy, but it wouldn't be at all. That made it fun. You dribbled the ball while making sure his legs were open. “Now!” you thought confidently before bouncing the ball between her legs. The first step had been a success, now followed by the second. You tried to go around Satoru, but he hugged your waist to prevent it.

“That's foul!” You exclaimed annoyed while trying to break free from his grip. 

Gojo Satoru didn’t have fun. Being born the only member and head of the Gojo Clan, he had no time to play with other children, throw tantrums when he fell down, let alone fall in love with someone. He had almost no hobbies or interests. He didn't know who the trending celebrities were, had no idea about fashion trends, nor did he know what was going on beyond Japan. He was always busy with something to do with sorcery. That's why he tried to have as much fun as possible in the little free time he had. Being the strongest sorcerer of this generation, it was his responsibility to sacrifice his life and being for the good of mankind… or so that’s what the old used to say. 

Satoru laughed evilly as you squirmed in his arms like a worm in salt trying to get the ball. He was taller, stronger and more capable enough to never let go, but you wouldn't give up. You turned abruptly, tripping in his legs. Satoru lost his balance, causing you both to fall to the ground. He hugged you tightly to protect your head upon impact. 

“Ouch!” You groaned in unison as your bodies bounced against the wooden floor of the gym. 

“Are you okay?” You asked Satoru worriedly. 

Quickly, you noticed that he had lost his round glasses when he fell, revealing his stunning sky eyes. You could see your reflection in them as if they were a crystal clear river. They were so perfect you would even think they used to belong to a doll. Satoru laughed at the sight of your impressed eyes, wide as if they would pop out of your face. 

“Wow…” You sighed openly. 

“Do you like them?” Satoru asked you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You nodded with the same surprised expression. “Let’s exchange them, I like yours better,” he smiled at you. 

They looked into each other's eyes as if they were the most beautiful thing in the universe. Their hearts were beating a mile a minute, they didn't know if it was due to the exercise or the intimacy. It was just you in the middle of an empty gym, and it couldn't have been more perfect. Satoru approached you. You closed your eyes in reaction. You didn't know what he would do, but you were willing to do whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, there was one simple rule you had to follow. 

“Gojo.” A hoarse voice woke you from your little love bubble. It was Yaga, Gojo's teacher. “I'm sorry I was late. The meeting took longer than it should have,” he explained, waiting for you to get up from the floor. 

“Don't worry about it. I had such nice company,” Satoru explained before giving you a tender smile to make you forget the embarrassment of having caught him red-handed. 

“Class day is over, miss. You should go home,” Yaga reminded him, indirectly telling you to leave. 

You said goodbye formally and left the gym in a hurry. You ran through the school halls with your heart in your hand. One rule. One simple rule and you broke it on the first day of school. You smiled to yourself as you remembered his sapphire eyes. You had never been so happy to break the rules. 

“Gojo, what did I tell you about disabling your technique?” Yaga scolded him. 

“It was worth it,” Satoru shrugged. “It was worth every second,” he whispered to himself as he remembered your shocked eyes, trying not to smile.

Open fanfic comms!

Masterlist.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Changing mindsets, from a Real Anti Endo™️

The Release of the (Pro/Endo) Golden Goose

I hope everyone from all sides will give this important, heartfelt post a read.

It's likely something you'll want to be aware of if you have a vested interest in syscourse and the validity of endogenic systems. Please give this a chance.

It's been almost three years since I started my blogs. Wow. I've been on tumblr a hell of a lot longer, but I really wasn't involved in the system community. I started out firm and loud. I probably inadvertently fakeclaimed (I went into this with the rule that I would NOT directly tell anyone they were faking, it was a boundary that I knew would ruin me socially if I crossed it, but I'm sure I probably did without meaning to), I name called and made fun of people and things. I was disrespectful to people. I invaded tags to get my message out there, though I was quick to stop once I realized I was making the tags unusable for the community I claimed to want to protect.

I learned very quickly what was appropriate and what wasn't, what I could get away with and what I couldn't. It started to become a numbers game, influenced by the risk of the post.

I made a lot of friends and a lot of enemies, and I amassed a following of over 2k. More people have come and gone from my little community than I ever thought possible. People made fanart of me, and I cherish those so deeply. I have over 300 asks because I struggle to delete the ones thanking me.

And the more I was thanked, the nicer I got, the more thanks, the nicer I got, rinse and repeat until I had trouble NOT empathizing with pro/endos. The more I was willing to listen, the more legitimate sources I came across that disproved my original ideas about consciousness. The people sharing the sources were more respectful than I thought they'd be. Things were starting to look a bit cloudy.

I talked to my colleagues about how they, as therapists, would handle some of these endos in their practice, and while their belief in the concept varied, kindness and attempts to understand was the consistent answer. When had I lost that kindness and understanding that had driven me to that field to begin with?

Colleagues, yes. For those who don't know, I have a degree in social services and counselling (plus three other degrees). It's why the current situation with the antis turning on me is so funny. I still can't get into the mindset of some of these new anti endos, I just can't imagine justifying that level of cruelty. I had lines that I wouldn't cross, and I didn't think people could be worse than me.

... That might have been a trauma thing, looking back on it.

So I got desperate.

I spoke to the actual doctors who wrote some of these papers all of us are quoting. Everyone was arguing the meaning of the words, so I went directly to the source.

Dr Colin Ross, who wrote about endogenous multiplicity in the 80s. I told him everything-- about plurals, non-traumagenic systems, syscourse, what was being debated, how I and others interpreted his words, and what I wanted to learn.

Was plurality only trauma based?

And back and forth and back and forth we went, with me asking over and over again in different ways, NEEDING to hear that it was.

But I never got that answer. He meant what he meant. He said what he said and he meant it.

That plurality was not only found in the aftermath of trauma.

And I said nothing to anyone because I couldn't reconcile it.

Don't try to read between the lines, I assure you, there isn't some hidden meaning to be found there. I can't share all of the messages because some contained personal information, but my final response will tell you all you need to know.

(It did NOT, in fact, make sense, and it took me three years to "rethink my paper" that endogenic plurality wasn't possible, I did not win that conversation, it was a dying stance that was not supported)

I've been accused of paying too much attention to my follower count, but I can't really help it. It's really scary when you make a post and see a sizeable drop. It means a lot of different things. My posts have less reach and support. I've upset people. I've done something wrong. My community is leaving me.

I'm in a weird spot, where I'm blocked by so much of the pro/endo community that I have nothing to join, and the anti endo community, who I still wholeheartedly support, continues to leave me for -checks smudged writing on hand- being too nice??

Misinformation about DID is a massive problem, and it's why I still consider myself anti endo and support that community. I relate to them in such a way that I'll always gravitate to and empathize with them.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

At this point, though, how can I not be pro/endo when Colin fucking Ross says it's possible?

I've already written about how I'm really struggling with these labels, and I love the people that have stuck around while I struggle to figure this out.

I hurt when I see the people that once supported me leave.

My (online) world is shrinking. Literally.

That's scary.

When you've watched so many turn away, you start to wonder, with every post, where is the line where the rest are going to leave? Is it this post?

I just want to be me, us, we want to laugh at the stupid crap people say, system or not, I want to talk about my disorder, I want to combat misinformation, I want to have productive, fun conversations about ideas and concepts with people who disagree and have different interpretations. I want to play devil's advocate and get people thinking. I want to be able to comment positivity and kindness on any post I see, I want to feel comfortable talking to more people about their ideas. I sympathize with anti endos, I relate to CDD systems, I still firmly believe that CDDs and plurality are different, unrelated concepts.

My priority will always and forever be the CDD community first and foremost.

However, I am a hypocrite. I have gone straight to the horse's mouth and failed. I've seen so much research that I finally get it. I'm grappling with holding on to this conversation with Dr Ross, wondering what harm I could have prevented if I'd gone public with these emails earlier.

Since when has being open to change been a bad thing?

Since when has showing respect to lived experiences been a bad thing?

What am I? What label describes this?

How do I go forward from here?

What are you going to do with this information?

I promise you, hate isn't the way forward.

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[lindsay00000008]

Pet Whump series - Carewhumper [Masterlist]

Flight Risk - Part 1

CW: systemic pet whump, dehumanization, brainwashed/drugged/conditioned whumpee, nonconsensual (non-sexual) touch, reference to patronizing dad, praise from whumpers, speech impariment (reference to noncon surgery), time loss, memory loss

Inspo: These posts by @sowhumpshaped & this post by @oliversrarebooks

[Next part - Flight Risk Pt. 2]

"Honey can't go in the cargo hold! She's too delicate. Look, I have a pet ticket, I bought an extra seat!" Luce holds up her phone, swiping to show the gate attendant the extra ticket code. She keeps one hand on the back of Honey's short hair, tugging at the strands to calm herself. Honey's knees begin to ache, a feeling she thinks she'll never get used to. At least she isn't made to crawl everywhere like some fancier pets she's seen. Luce always says those pets look ridiculous, and whoever their owners are must have too much time on their hands. Still, her back aches from the hunched, submissive gait she's been trained to employ.

"I see that ma'am," the man replies with careful professionalism, "but unfortunately the flight has been overbooked. We're happy to offer you a refund for the seat and a comfortable cage for your pet, and we may be able to offer upgrades to our service on the flight. But unless you agree to place it in the cargo hold, I'm sorry to report that we'll need to transfer you to another flight."

"It doesn't matter if the cage is comfortable," Luce hisses, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She can't miss this flight, and have her dad bug her about what an impulsive brat she'd been, adopting a barely trained pet so soon after getting her degree. Spending all her savings on some rescue mutt. She couldn't miss his retirement party, especially not over this. "It's cold down there. Honey has issues with her circulation. Why can't you ask someone else to move flights?"

Luce breathes out heavily and smoothes the hair she'd gripped too hard, scratching her nails over Honey's scalp in apology. A faint memory plays in Honey's usually quiet headspace: long, long wavy hair, and intricate braid patterns pulled up on a phone screen. Honey's own eyes in the mirror, younger then... Luce tugs again when the attendant sighs.

"We have asked for volunteers. Unfortunately no one has offered, and our policy is that pet seats be deferred first to make room for other patrons. And your pet's tag shows that it hasn't completed recommended trainings, beyond the basics. So we're asking you before we ask owners with more compliant pets."

Luce hears her dad's voice in those statements, and she can't argue with that. She looks to Honey, who is sat staring at Luce's sandals like they're the most interesting thing in the world.

"I- Look, I need to be on this flight. Is there anything you can do to make it... more comfortable? She's always been nervous about traveling. I just... I don't wanna traumatize her, you know?" Luce shifts the leash between her hands, trying not to think about the news she saw a few months ago - a pet dying in the cargo hold.

In reality, Luce is the one who's nervous about travel. She had imagined Honey would spend the flight beside her, warm and calm, being that comforting, familiar weight on Luce's shoulder. She wants to tell the man she needs Honey. But she isn't going to be like those annoying owners who claim their pet is for "emotional support", without any sort of training to back it up. Besides, he's looking at Honey's ID right now. She's barely trained enough to board the flight.

"We do offer a complimentary Cozy-Dose. It's a pet-safe anxiety suppressant, a little stronger than the drug store ones. Does it have anything in its system?"

"Just some pet-nip for the ride over." Said pet-nip is currently wearing off, Luce thinks, watching Honey lift her head to look directly in the attendant's eyes, her brows furrowed in that adorably vague but defiant expression. Luce presses her hand against Honey's head, pushing it down to lay still at the side of her knee.

"Should be fine," the attendant is saying. "Do you have anything you'd like to leave with her? A toy, or a blanket?"

Luce has tried to get Honey to play with toys. On Honey's best days she ignores them. On her worst, she touches them with her hands, and Luce has to discipline her accordingly. Luce knows pets don't understand the dangers of playing like humans. Often, they don't know their own strength, and can break things or hurt themselves. But it seems Honey doesn't yet know what to do with a toy otherwise, so she has yet to find one she likes.

Luce looks at Honey's thin sweater dress, the green fabric stopping just above her knee. Perfect for playing and walks in the new spring heat. Not so good for a cargo hold. She shrugs out of the pale orange flannel she wears over her tee, much to the surprise of the attendant, and drapes it over Honey's shoulders. Her pet presses her nose into the warm fabric, leaning more heavily against Luce's knee. Luce feels pride and affection well in her heart at the sight.

"Maybe she's ok without the Cozy-Dose," Luce murmurs, hesitant to drug Honey when she's being so sweet. The attendant shakes his head.

"I may have misspoken. The Cozy-Dose is complimentary, of course, but with the level of training..."

"Oh," Luce says. "Oh, okay then that's... fine. You'll probably just go to sleep, and we'll wake up at dad's house, yeah?" She coos at Honey, who doesn't bother to look up. Luce's hand finds Honey's hair again, wanting the hit of dopamine only her loving pet can provide. But before Honey can respond to the tug, the attendant is on the move.

"Alrighty. I've got it logged in our system. Again, we do apologize for this inconvenience, but we pride ourselves on our safety and pet specialists. Boarding's in about twenty minutes, so let's get Honey secure and comfy, yeah?"

Luce nods mutely, and hands over the leash.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

Honey doesn't like being away from Luce, in a strange back room near the boarding gate. She doesn't like the "pet specialist", Carson, and she especially doesn't like that Carson removes Luce's flannel and Honey’s pretty green collar. He makes her crawl as soon as they're behind the door.

Honey wishes she had spent more effort learning the gestures Luce tried to teach her. Things like "Food" and "Water", "Bathroom" and "Bed". She heard Luce on the phone with her father once. He seemed to be yelling about Honey's adoption - Untrained stray. Irresponsible. Hopeless. Luce gave up on the lessons for a while.

If Honey could tell Carson anything right now, it would be a toss-up between how ugly his shaggy hairstyle is, and how confused and afraid she is about the whole situation.

"Up," the man says when they reach the center of the room. A table with a leathery top and a long banner of thin paper sits there. Honey gets unsteadily to her feet and climbs atop it. The crinkle of the paper beneath her reminds her of something, and she absently tears at it. Smack. Carson's hand leaves a faint red mark on her own.

Honey releases the paper and brings her hand to her mouth, looking up at the man with an indignant gaze. She fights the snarl pulling at her lip. Thankfully Carson busies himself at a computer screen, and doesn't see. Honey watches the man click the mouse and raise his eyebrows. He turns back to Honey.

"Lie down," he says, putting his hands on his hips as if he expects Honey to disobey. Honey almost scoffs. She knows how to obey a simple command. She's very obedient, in fact, despite everyone telling Luce otherwise. She eyes the orange flannel, slung over the man's shoulder, as her world tilts and she dutifully lays on her side.

Carson comes around to the head of the table, and forces Honey's other shoulder down. Honey squirms as the man positions her flat on her back, a familiar sense of vulnerability spiking in her chest.

"Why do they always give me the troublesome ones," Carson mutters, taking something from the underside of the table. Honey flinches when she feels the buttery smooth grip of a cuff on her left wrist.

"At least they gave you Broca's. I suspect you'd be a whiny thing otherwise."

Broca's? The aphasia? We learned about that in-

The moment gets away from her. Cuffs on both wrists, both ankles now. Carson is looking at her like he's surprised by her compliance. Honey pulls at the cuffs then. They're not painful, but they hold her tight. Her knees and shoulders pull together instinctually.

"Ss... Ssst-mm" Is all that comes out of her lagging mouth, before she hums a whimper instead. Don't like this. I don't like this. I don't...

"Thought so. Expensive little pooch aren'tcha? Usually they just trim the hyoid a little, but they don't like how pets choke on their food after that," Carson mumbles. More to himself, of course.

"Nice your owner could afford it. Irresponsible not to train you though," he grunts, seemingly irritated at Luce. A clinking sound comes behind her when Carson circles the table. Honey focuses on his words. Her owner... irresponsible. He sounds like Luce's father. But why would anyone be mad at Luce? Luce is wonderful. Carson still has Luce's flannel. He doesn't deserve that.

Honey tilts her chin up to look behind her, wondering if she can take it from him with her mouth. The tap-tap-tap motion of a syringe against the palm of Carson's hand meets her eyes. Honey's body tenses, and a whining starts up in her throat.

"Frank, come help me with this one," he calls when Honey begins to toss. She's trying not to, she really is trying to be good and still, but it's hard to do that when she knows what's coming next.

"Aw, poor girl," comes another man's voice. He pauses beside the table before coming closer. "Honey is it? Shh, shush now. You're okay, Honey," he says in that voice that people use with good pets. A soft emotion fills Honey's chest at the sound despite her fear. He places a firm hand on one shoulder, the other in her hair, soothing her with his thumbs as he holds her still. He presses her head to the side gently, all the time cooing in that same voice: "You're a good girl, yeah? It's scary, I know. You'll feel nice and calm in just a minute."

"Stay," Carson's voice, a jarring, commanding tone, stills her body in the way she's been trained. The impulse lasts for just long enough that the bite of a needle somewhere below her ear comes and goes without objection. Frank is there to sooth the sore spot when it's over. The cuffs are removed, and she curls to the side, a tear falling as she noses Frank's abdomen. He continues to stroke her hair, rubbing her ear between his fingers, and her thoughts calm and fade away one by one until she doesn't feel the need to cry anymore. She hums at the pleasant sensation instead.

"Fuck dude, you never cease to amaze me. Sure you don't have food in your pockets?" She hears the other man chuckle.

"Pets don't understand what's going on, man. It just needed to feel safe. We took the same courses yeah?"

"Yeah man, but I'm the one who has to strap 'em to the table and stick 'em, you get to be mister nice guy."

Frank steps away and Honey's head raises to find him. But the room is getting a little fuzzy, and the lights are too bright. Arms find hers and prop her upright before pulling her to slide to the edge of the table.

"I get my cert in a few months, so we'll see if they still like me, yeah? I'll grab the cage."

[Next part - Flight Risk Pt. 2]

[chuubian]

Kinktober week one:

Under the table

Tags Toji x fem reader, semi-public sex, mean and controlling Toji, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), breeding kink, biting, unrealistic sex, MDNI

A/N I started a bit last minute so i cant do many but i dont write smut alot so i hope this is okay 😭😭

Your waitress was so sweet. Too sweet, really. Toji was a force to be reckoned with, not bothering with formalities or even talking like a regular human being. As soon as you were seated in the booth, he slipped right in beside you. You knew the drill. No speaking to waitstaff by yourself. He orders everything for you. As the server walks away, Toji's large hand rests on your knee- squeezing gently.

“Don't make a sound.”

The command shoots through your body and etches itself into your brain. Everything he says and does is permanently branded into your soul. It's like you were made to follow him. Toji’s thick fingers travel up slowly, teasing you, gently playing with the hem of your skirt. But you knew better. He wasn't nice for no reason.

Pushing his hand away shyly, you pull back down your skirt— attempting to keep your dignity.

“Toji… not here…”

You whisper softly, there's no reason people around need to know what's happening. Toji isn't amused. He lets out a low grunt. His fingers dig into the flesh of your inner thigh cruelly.

“Don't argue. Remember your place.”

A breath hitches in your throat and you don't want to fight back any more, but this is wrong. Your hands find their place in the fabric of his black shirt, curling. He chuckles at your reaction, fingers tapping at your inner thigh.

“But-“

He cuts you off.

“I told you to shut up. Are you trying to disobey me? Do I have to punish you?”

You cower under the intense aura radiating off him. Toji takes it as his chance. Firm fingers brush against the thin fabric of your panties— he easily finds your clit, focusing on drawing quick little circles over the sensitive bud. Sparks of pleasure flash behind your eyes, making your body tremble.

“T-toji…”

A large hand slides down your hair and settles on your shoulder, squeezing sternly in warning.

“Quiet.”

Your legs are weak. Thighs quivering, you try to hold back the urge to snap them shut. If you did, Toji would just pry them apart again.

It's embarrassing— having him act so unrestrained in public. He's shameless. What if people see? You could get arrested for this. It's not an empty restaurant by any means, it wouldn't be unthinkable.

A low buzzing sensation covers your entire body, settling over your skin. His touch doesn't let up. Your hips twitch uncontrollably against his fingers. It's like your body is not your own. He's playing you like a fiddle.

Wetness is soaking through your underwear, surely already dripping down onto the seat. It's all too much. Your head is spinning, thoughts turning muddy and nebulous. God. Where were you again?

The next thing you know, a strong arm is wrapping around your waist, dragging you out of your seat, and towards the bathroom.

"Come with me."

A gruff voice cuts through the daze and speaks directly at you. The door barely shuts before Toji is pushing your shirt up over your head. His calloused fingers leave trails of fire across your back and waist— making sure to torment you by nipping at all the sensitive spots hidden throughout your body.

His arms tighten around you. His lips trail up your spine and settle on sucking at the spot behind your ear. His breath brushes over your skin. It's warm. Too warm. Your heart is beating out of your chest and a wave of nausea suddenly hits you. Oh you're gonna get heatstroke for sure.

Toji wastes no time, pulling your panties halfway down, not bothering with stupid things like being gentle or kind.

“Fucking hate these. Why do you even wear them? you don't need them.”

He hikes up your skirt, revealing your bare ass to the freezing cold bathroom air.

“As long as you're with me, you better not wear this shit ever again.”

Goosebumps rise over your arms and legs as Toji runs a finger down your wet cunt. A surprised gasp spills past your lips. Toji takes it as his cue, sinking in a thick finger.

“Fuck…”

An embarrassing squelching sound fills the air. You hide your face in your arms, legs shaking and struggling to hold up.

“Hah… You're so easy to rile up baby. So wet, just for me.”

You can practically hear the sleazy smile plastered on his stupid smug face. The edges of your vision start to blur— your body is refusing to work, focusing only on the way Toji expertly manipulates your anatomy for his own benefit. He knows exactly what he's doing. He's the Devil.

He's greedy. Hardly any time has passed before he's gliding his finger out of your pussy, and tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down eagerly. The fat head of his cock slaps against his solid abs, leaving behind a small dribble of precum on his tummy. His hand— wet with your juices— travels back down to your hip, squeezing roughly.

“Toji..!”

You whine out. He's taking too long. It's not like you were the one who asked for this, it was all his stupid idea anyways and he was still refusing to hurry up. His hand raises up high in the air and comes back down hard before you can process what's happening. Your ass burns— a red hand is definitely going to imprint itself on your skin, branding you as his, even if only for a few minutes.

“Yeah, yeah I get it. Shut up.”

He drags your hips back, pressing his cock against your needy cunt. But he's being so mean. He refuses to push in just yet, content with just grinding himself against you.

“Fuck… what if I just do this huh? Get myself off and leave you all needy and helpless.”

A loud groan rips itself out of your lungs. He can't. He wouldn't. Right?

“Please… Toji…”

A strong grip clutches onto your hair, pulling at the threads harshly. You cry out loudly, your scalp pulses and aches.

“Shut up. I won't say it again.”

With that, he plunges his thick cock in mercilessly— stretching you open. No prep and minimal foreplay doesn't seem to be something that bothers Toji as he buries himself inside as deeply as he can. you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Ughn… So tight… Fuck.”

He grunts into your ear and nuzzles at your throat, pulling at you until your back is pressed against his strong, still-clothed chest. You're thankful for it. Your legs would not have lasted much longer.

Slowly, he drags his hips back until only the tip is left inside. You choke out a needy whine. Weakly, you attempt to smack his arm— to get him moving. But he refuses to. Instead, he tightens his grip around you and laughs.

“Hurry.”

You barely get the full word out before he's slamming back in. It burns so good. You choke out a mewl, eyes fluttering shut. Your entire lower half aches, and your back feels like it's going to rip itself apart. The only thing holding you together is Toji.

“Agh… you're gonna be the death of me.”

No time is wasted before he starts thrusting inside you violently. His hips ram into the soft flesh of your ass, and his cock is carving out a spot for itself— causing delicious friction against your gummy walls. You're stretched beyond belief. Even after so many times you still can't get used to it.

“O-oh god…”

His hold on you tightens.

“That's not my name.”

Rocking your hips back against him, Toji groans loudly in your ear. The drag of skin on skin is heavenly. Echoing in the empty bathroom is the sound of pleasure— of pure bliss. The blunt head of his cock hits your cervix, creating ripples of indescribable pleasure through you. You can't think or speak. Everything comes out in incoherent babbles.

“Nghh… T-toji… h-hahh.. mmm..”

He doesn't slow down, if anything it encourages him more.

“That's it, just let go. Don't think.”

Nothing else matters at this point. Not the people waiting outside, who have probably all heard your cries of ecstasy. And certainly not the eventual soreness that will come with letting Toji use you. You can feel your brain turning off, your thoughts becoming a distant haze. Tojis dick is literally making you dumb.

Drool drips out of your lips and down your chin in thick dollops. You don't bother cleaning it. Your pussy pulsates around Tojis cock, trying to squeeze everything out of him. It's practically sucking him in. His thrusts get more desperate— slamming in harder and faster.

“Take it. I'm gonna breed you. Get you pregnant.”

Those words only made you want him more. You’re sure your ass is a deep red, almost purple color by now— abused by Toji's unintentionally violent expression of affection.

“Please… g-give it to me..”

With one last push, he buries himself in as deep as he can, biting at the junction between your neck and shoulder. Your pussy squeezes around him as you’re sent careening into your orgasm. Your hands grab onto anything they can, nails digging into his skin hard— it's sure to leave crescent shaped indents. Hot ropes of cum spill into you, filling you just like Toji wants.

When you finally regain the ability to think again, you shakily get up. Your legs can hardly hold up and you're a sweaty disheveled mess. A shiver runs up your spine as you feel his cum dripping down your thigh. Toji snorts. How is this funny to him?

"This is your fault, you know? You should be helping me, not watching."

You turn to glare at him. He holds his hands up in defeat.

"I know I know, it's just funny seeing you like this."

Strong hands help hold you up— gently cleaning you up and getting you dressed again. Your clothes feel dirty now. There's nothing visible on them, but they were on the floor just a few minutes ago. Toji's fingers gently rub against your lower stomach as he leads you out of the bathroom again. He doesn't bother going back to the table, or paying for the drinks you ordered, instead leading you out of the restaurant and back home.