#so anything they are okay with doing they let us do

[edward-munson]

never have i ever

Summary: You're playing the game "Never have I ever" at Dustin's birthday party and it surprises you when Eddie reveals a secret of his personal life.

Warning: 18+ MDNI, masturbation, oral (m receiving)

Word count: 3.1k

You're only at this party because it's Dusin Henderson's 18th birthday. He thinks he's old enough to drink, so he makes sure all of his friends are drinking too. Except, he's only adept at drinking beer. Not like you, though. You like anything strong. You can drink beer, cocktails, tequila, anything alcoholic.

As you sip on your piña colada, one made especially by Jonathan, you watch as the younger boys play D&D at the bar. On the other side of the table, Eddie is smoking weed with his friends as they watch their friends playing. You try not to be obvious with your glances that are being directed at the metalhead, but you might be failing doing so because of the drinks you had.

Steve is trying to get your attention as he talks about his date, and Robin can't seem to listen to him because she's too busy checking Vickie out. They've been going on dates, but she's too invested and doesn't hide it. He's babbling and rambling, not hiding his excitement, and you feel bad you're not exactly listening to him.

The Hideout was rented just for Dustin's birthday, so you're allowed to listen to whatever you guys felt like. You and your friends are old enough to drink, and you're all taking care of the younger group in front of you. Will doesn't drink and Eleven isn't fond of it. Max is the one along with Mike who likes to try on cocktails and Jonathan makes sure he adds enough ounces of alcohol.

"Okay, you know what? If they're going to play a boring game, let's just play our own game!" Robin says as soon as Steve shuts his mouth

You both ask her what game it is and she seems excited about it. "Never have I ever"

Steve rolls his eyes and mumbles something and you just snort.

It's not like it's a forbidden game, but it sure can be fun.

She gathers every adult, including Eddie, who clearly couldn't be bothered by the idea. His friends decided to stay and watch the youngsters playing. As you all sit around a bigger table, Robin and Nancy spread shot glasses to each one of you, placing a good amount of tequila on each glass.

You don't protest, you like the idea of playing something like that. And it's funny how some of them, like Eddie and Steve, look like they're afraid of doing it.

You nudge the curly haired man beside you and whisper "You seem pretty worried"

He nudges you back and mocks you, shaking his head softly "Nah, just not the biggest fan of these games"

"Okay! Listen. I'll start and the round goes on to the right. Don't bullshit us and don't be soft" Robin shouts from the other side of the table, preparing herself before starting it.

They're all telling off things based on their own experiences, until Argyle decides to be the greatest menace ever. He started saying specific stuff that weren't related to him, rather to find out if people have ever done anything. The tequila shots were smaller so you all wouldn't die from alcohol poisoning.

You started to feel giddy, your cheeks were burning red and every time Eddie would bump his arm against yours, you would feel squirmy in your seat.

"Never have I ever been given a blowjob" Jonathan said and the guys took their shots. Argyle wouldn't stop laughing at this point, but mostly because he was drunk and high on weed.

It took a few seconds for you all to notice the fact that Eddie didn't take his shot and all eyes were pointed at him. He was leaning against his chair with a bandana over his head, so he wouldn't feel hot from drinking. His t-shirt was wet from the drink he missed and spilled over it. From your point of view, he looked hot as fuck.

"What? Yeah, I've never been sucked before and I'm not ashamed. I've barely hooked up with girls before" He seemed unbothered from saying the truth and it took them by surprise.

At least Steve and Jonathan were. Argyle, not so much. They've been friends for a while and they've shared experiences before. Meaning they didn't have many, but the fact no one ever wanted to give Eddie a blowjob seemed kinda off to you somehow.

"Huh, it's their loss" You murmured but loud enough for him to hear you

"What's that?" He rested his elbow over the table and leaned his head against his hand, having your full attention.

Eddie was holding a smug on his face and his lips were curved upwards. He pretended he didn't listen to you, but he knows what he heard.

"Uh– I mean" You blew through your closed mouth, trying to disguise your temptation of complimenting him. "Ah, they're all just stupid for not doing that"

"Really?" He pushes, biting his inner lower lip as he still muses towards you.

As you cross your arms in front of you, Eddie laughs at the way you react to his teasing and sits back straight on his chair. The game doesn't take too long to end, especially when Nancy says she's feeling kind of sick, and Vickie is about to throw up on the table.

You all scatter around, getting up and collecting the shot glasses. You don't feel sick, but you sure feel funny and like you're about to float from the amount of tequila you just had.

As soon as you turn on your heels to go back to the table, Eddie is standing there in front of you, holding a bottle of water. He's still wearing the bandana and it makes him look gorgeous from how the lights are hitting him. Without his bangs, you can see him more clearly. How his eyes are blown from the weed he smoked, the way his eyebrows are perfectly shaped, just like the shape of his plump lips.

You don't think he wouldn't notice, but he tilted his head to the side and gave you a sided smile. The kind of smile you give someone when you're about to mess with them, when you want to taunt them.

"Why are you looking at me that way, sunshine? Something wrong with my face?"

He follows you as you start to walk towards the table and you shake your head, hiding your thoughts as you drink your water. Eddie doesn't even let you sit without pulling a chair for you. He sits next to you, facing you. He crosses his arms and slumps back.

When he does that, your eyes literally drop a few inches to watch how he just sits there with his legs spread open, almost an invitation to what you've been thinking about.

You almost choke on the water from drinking it too fast. He takes the bottle off your hand and closes it, keeping his previous demeanor.

"Okay, now you're just acting weird. What the hell happened?" He sounds a little concerned, but the fact he's sitting like that in front of you doesn't help it.

You shrug, taking a deep breath. You cross your legs and lick your lips playfully before opening your mouth to speak. This small action sends a shock wave through his own body but it lasts a fraction of time.

You pull your chair closer to his, your legs standing in the middle of his. Eddie shifts his eyes to your legs and the way you are looking at him.

"You wouldn't wanna know what it's like to get a blowjob, Eddie?" You try not to sound like you're enticing him, or even provoking him. But the context says otherwise.

He laughs nervously, diverting his eyes from you. He looks at the ceiling and sighs. You see him taking a deep breath, looking back at you.

"What is this conversation about, really? None of the girls I've gone out with would wanna suck a freak off. They just wanted to hook up because I'm sort of famous in town. And I've had sex like two times. So really, don't bother with the subject"

He played defensive, like he was offended. You didn't intend to sound as if you're joking and making fun of him for not having much sex.

"No– Eddie, I'm not trying to make fun of you. You're such a grumpy little man! Come here" You quickly get up and pull him by his hand, following to the back of the bar.

You knew the whole place. You've been at the bar a hundred times and he talked about the back of the bar where he and his band use as backstage. They had set up a few furniture including one couch.

One you pushed him to after you closed the door and locked it. He looked at you terrified but amused at the same time, because he had no idea what was happening.

You sat beside him, resting your arm on the back of the couch. His brows were furrowed and when you noticed how pretty his lips were you couldn't hold it back.

"We're friends, right? You trust me?" You ask, your voice a little shy and your tone a little lower.

He nodded and tilted his head, again. "Yeah, sunshine. If we weren't, you know I wouldn't let you fucking kidnap me and bring me here" He jokes.

It's the way he calls you sunshine. The way he looks tenderly at his friends and how he treats everyone. It's so fucking cute. It's not even the alcohol talking and you know that.

You also know sometimes he throws glances at you, but you know he wouldn't do shit about that. He's too afraid of committing, too afraid of being heartbroken. He just doesn't know what he's actually missing.

And then you laugh like you're embarrassed, your head is hanging low because you can't seem to face him right now. But he pinches your chin carefully, looking right at you. His fingertips aren't that soft and you know it's from playing guitar. They also smell like smoke.

"What is it?" He asks again, pleading chocolate brown eyes staring into your soul. You look back at him and move your face until you're just a few inches away from him. "Oh?"

At first, he seems confused and kind of lost. But it's only a matter of seconds until he's the one taking you in and kissing you softly. He tastes like tequila and cherry from the gum he was chewing. It's intoxicating, it's a mix of feelings for you. He's still holding your chin. He uses the other one as leverage and holds your neck. You're anxious to taste him, literally.

The euphoria hits you like a train wreck when he lets you pull his hair a bit. He tries not to gasp from the touch, and he instinctively bites a small bit of your lower lip. It sends you to a frenzy and your other hand flies up to his crotch. Obviously, he's hard. Not just from the touch, but from the kiss. From how you hold his hair.

Eddie never had a girl hold his hair like that, he barely had a girl that interested in him. And he likes the feeling of being desired, it's different. And knowing you, he feels like he can trust you.

So he lets you touch him. Both your mouths never leave, only adding more fuel to his fire. You notice his behavior and try to unzip his jeans without being concerned about breaking the kiss.

He helps you out lifting his hips so you can get rid of it, trying to focus on kissing him and touching him. You love the feeling of having someone this horny for you. You feel his hardness grow through the fabric and you can feel the dampness already.

"You're so hard for me, Eds" You whisper hovering your lips over Eddie's and he grunts in response.

Your little evil laugh makes him more turned on for you, and his first instinct is to pull your hair, but not with force. He pulls you back a little, enough for him to have a look at you, the way you stare back at him with lust in your eyes.

"You're so gorgeous" He mumbles, his eyes sparkly. When you grip his hard cock tight, he hisses at the touch and closes his eyes forcefully.

He's still holding your hair and when you do that again, he grips it tighter. He's playing your game. Only he's the one getting something out of it. At least today.

You hold his underwear and pull it down, watching as his dick springs free from the fabric. Red tip, already leaking and begging for more of your attention. Eddie doesn't let go of you, only enough for you to start sliding down the couch, kneeling in front of him. You look at him before looking at his cock, it's trimmed and it looks gorgeous. It's already begging for your attention.

The alcohol in your system seems to evaporate immediately. Eddie glances down at you with concerned eyes, like he's afraid you won't do it. But you glance up and nod, reassuring him you will do it, smiling just before you start giving him the pleasure he deserves.

You lick a stripe through his shaft, tasting him for the first time. He didn't know the feeling until then, and it made him pulse like he never did before. One hand holding your hair back and the other one gripping tightly on the edge of the couch.

Your tongue savors his precum until you reach the tip and give it a small kiss. You look at him again, he's trying to hold back his whimpers. You know it's hard for him to handle the touch as it is his first time. Usually something this provocative causes a man to last only a few minutes.

But you take your time, taking his cock inside your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat. It's not your first time, so you don't gag anymore.

You bob your head up and down a few times, sucking him and the liquid coming off of him. You use one hand to grip his balls, and the other one you leave resting over his stomach. He seems to love it.

He watches you carefully, he looks at how your tongue roams up and down his length, reaching the tip again, swallowing thickly. You feel it pulsing every now and then, precum spreading all over it until you suck it in again.

"Jesus fuck" Eddie moans. He lets out a loud, unsteady breath. His hand is gripping your hair carefully and if you didn't know any better, he's just being gentle when you know he would pull it harder. He was almost melting from the feeling of your mouth. 

You take him back and forth, rolling your tongue around it. You lick his cock down and reach his balls, sucking it until your mouth is full and he struggles to keep his eyes open because he wants to watch it all.

You hold his shaft with your delicate hand and pump him, your mouth helping out with the job. You sank back down lower, taking every inch of him, looking up at him. Your lips slid perfectly around his skin and it made him even harder. He starts to buckle his hip when he glances at you, seeing lust in your eyes again.

Your eyes are blown from pleasure and Eddie wonders if you’re feeling the heat between your legs as well. He wants to know if your pussy is wet from doing all this with him and he can’t help but thrust against your mouth. He starts slowly, until you’re feeling comfortable having his entire length in the back of your throat. 

Eddie watches when you let him fuck your mouth mercilessly, feeling his tip hitting your throat. He can't hold back his grunts, letting his head fall back to the couch. His eyes are now closed and he's in a bliss of pleasure.

The quiet room is filled with the sound of his cock in your mouth, Eddie moaning huskily and you whimpering from your own pleasure. No one cares you're both there, no one even knows you're there. He holds your head and hits his length in a perfect spot that makes him shiver.

He stops his thrusts because he wants you to finish for him. You grip the base of his cock and grip it tightly, letting the blood rush to the tip, and you suck him hard. You hollow your cheeks and suck him hard enough for him to feel lightheaded.

“Godfuckingdamn” Eddie pleads.

It's how it makes his heartbeat fasten quickly and his cock is almost exploding from the pleasure. You know he's going to cum because his legs start to falter and shake. His hand is gripping your hair tighter than before and he's buckling his hips upwards.

It comes with the loudest grunt he lets out. He fills in your mouth and the warm liquid washes over your throat as you swallow all of it. His dick pulses incessantly and you don't let go of him for a second.

Eddie feels kind of drained, but in a very good way. He's still on a high, but he feels relieved. His entire body is shaking, his legs are weak and his hands fall on top of the couch. You take the last bit of his cum and let go of him.

You think it's cute to see his cheeks flushed, painted in red. He's breathing heavily and you can't quite describe how hot he looks right now. His dick is still a little hardened but less than before. You get yourself up and help him get his pants done and sit back on the couch.

Eddie looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's seen. And it's not just because of what happened. He likes the thought of kissing you, of having you blowing him. He kissed you without any hesitation, tasting a bit of himself in your mouth.

"That was mind-blowing" He heaves, resting his forehead against yours and you laugh softly.

"You wanna go back to the party?" You ask, getting up from the couch, ready to open the door. But he pulls you back and holds your hand.

He shakes his head, showing off a little bit of shyness in his features. "I wanna take you home and kindly fuck you"

It makes you laugh at how much he can still manage to be such a gentleman when saying something dirty. But you agree to that and you both leave, driving to his apartment.

[thesecondhandwoman]

Vi, Jinx, Sevika and Caitlyn (separate) with an s/o who self harms? I couldn't find any rules on your pinned page, so sorry if this violates anything!

SELF HARM CONFESSIONS

Arcane woman x f!reader

Synopsis: How arcane woman (Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Sevika, Ambessa, Mel, Grayson) would react when they find out that you cope with your mental struggles through self-harm and respond with different types of comfort as a result.

Request: Anon 🤍

VI

Vi had always been observant. Her years in the Lanes taught her to read people, spot dangers, and sense when something wasn’t right. That’s why, as much as you tried to hide it, she noticed.

You were seated at the kitchen table, mindlessly picking at the hem of your sleeve unconsciously while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Her brows furrowed, her red hair glowing faintly under the warm kitchen light.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she started, her voice soft yet probing. “And don’t tell me you’re just tired, babe. Something’s up.”

You froze, keeping your eyes downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that,” she pushed, stepping closer. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Her use of the pet name chipped away at your resolve, but you stayed silent. Then her hand was on yours, her calloused fingers tugging your sleeve up. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she was faster. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on the faint scars and fresh marks that littered your arm.

“Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked, breaking through your defenses. Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled your arm away, hiding it in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession. “I didn’t know how else to—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. She crouched in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Don’t apologize for this. Just why didn’t you tell me?”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Vi let out a shaky laugh, one filled with disbelief and heartbreak. “A burden? Babe, you’re my whole damn world. I’d carry whatever weight you’re holding if it meant you didn’t have to feel like this.”

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, her fingers running through your hair.

“We’ll figure this out,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve got me, okay? You’re not alone, and I want you to know that.”

JINX

Jinx had been watching you closely for weeks. Her scatterbrained nature didn’t stop her from noticing the way you winced when she grabbed your arm or how you avoided her eyes when she asked if you were okay.

That night, she cornered you in her workshop. The dim lighting cast shadows across her face, her wide blue eyes boring into yours.

“Alright, spill it, toots,” she said, hands on her hips. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, trying to sidestep her. But Jinx wasn’t having it. She grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly, and tugged you closer.

“Liar,” she teased, though there was no humor in her voice. “You’re hiding something.”

When she rolled up your sleeve and saw the faint scars, her playful demeanor evaporated. “What… what is this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tears filled your eyes as you tried to pull away. “It’s nothing. Just forget it. I told you, it’s nothing.”

“No way,” she said, her voice wavering. “It’s not nothing, sugarplum, and neither are you, because I know that you are probably thinking that right now to do this. You’re my favorite person.”

The sincerity in her voice made your tears spill over. “I’m sorry, Jinx. I didn’t mean—“

“Shh,” she cut you off, pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like that, okay? I’ll never judge you for something like this. We’ll figure it out together, step by step, even if they’re small.”

You nodded against her shoulder, her chaotic energy melting into a rare moment of calm as she held you, lightly rubbing your back.

CAITLYN

Caitlyn had always prided herself on her investigative skills. So when she started noticing the long sleeves you wore in the heat of summer and the distant look in your eyes, she knew something was wrong.

She confronted you one evening in the parlor, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched you fidget.

“Darling, is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, but her sharp eyes didn’t miss the way your hands gripped your sleeves. Without a word, she reached out, brushing her fingers over your wrist.

“Please,” she said softly. “Let me in, tell me what is wrong, dear.”

The tears came unbidden as you rolled up your sleeve, revealing the scars. Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, and I was scared of how you might see me because of this.” you whispered.

Caitlyn shook her head vehemently, her grip tightening. “You could never disappoint me. You’re the most important person in my life. Please, let me help you.”

She pulled you into her arms, holding you like you might break. “We’ll get through this,” she promised, her voice steady. “I’m sorry you’ve felt like this for so long, my love.”

SEVIKA

Sevika wasn’t one to pry, but when she noticed the scars on your arms during a rare moment of intimacy, she couldn’t stay quiet.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and measured as she traced the faint lines with her prosthetic fingers.

You tried to pull away, but her flesh hand caught your wrist. “Don’t,” she said, her tone soft yet firm. “Talk to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn’t hold it back anymore, knowing that you were already painted red, so you confessed, your voice shaky. “It’s just… sometimes it’s too much.”

Sevika didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes locked on yours. Then she pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Listen to me, doll,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t care how messy things get—I’m here for you. Always, mk?”

She lifted her hand and lightly cupped your cheek, her expression becoming even more sympathetic as your eyes swelled with unshed tears. “I’ve been through my own rough shit and I get how it is, all tiring, always frustrating, but I promise you aren’t alone.”

You cried into her chest as she stroked your back, murmuring soft reassurances. “You’re my girl,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I’m not letting you go through this by yourself, doll. I promise.”

AMBESSA

The sound of the door opening made your heart drop into your stomach. You hadn’t expected Ambessa to return so soon. You froze, the small blade still clutched in your trembling hand, red droplets forming at the edges of the fresh cut on your arm.

“Dove?” Ambessa’s voice echoed through the room, low and firm, tinged with the warmth she reserved only for you. You scrambled to pull your sleeve down, your movements clumsy with panic, but it was too late.

Ambessa stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on you, taking in your pale face and the way you hastily tried to hide your arm. She stepped forward, her heavy boots thudding against the floor, and you instinctively backed up, bumping into the edge of the desk behind you.

When she saw how scared you were, skittish and small, she immediately looked confused and worried. “What were you doing?”

You stayed quiet, clenching the hem of your sleeve as you stared down. “Nothing, love, just waiting for you.”

“Let me see,” she said, her tone calm but commanding.

“No,” you stammered, clutching your arm protectively. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ambessa didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her eyes darted down to the faint stain of blood that had soaked through your sleeve. Her jaw tightened, and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Dove,” she said again, softer this time, her voice trembling just slightly. “Please, let me see.”

You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes as you slowly loosened your grip and allowed her to gently take your wrist. She pushed the fabric of your sleeve up with careful fingers, revealing the fresh cut alongside the faint scars of others that came before it. Her eyes moved over the marks, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, the room was silent except for your shallow breaths. Then Ambessa knelt before you, taking your hand in hers. Her usual unshakable confidence seemed to waver as she looked up at you, her golden eyes glistening.

“Why, dove?” she asked softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you whispered, barely able to meet her gaze.

Ambessa let out a low, shaky breath and reached up to cup your cheek with her free hand. Her palm was warm, grounding against your skin. “Weak?” she repeated, almost incredulous. “You’ve survived so much, little dove. There’s nothing weak about you. But this?” She gestured gently to your arm. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, nor do because it seems like the only reliever.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you broke down, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Ambessa immediately pulled you into her arms, holding you close to her chest. Her embrace was firm but gentle, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, clutching at her shirt.

“No, dove,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Don’t apologize. Just let me help you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words wrapped around you like a safety net, her steady presence making the weight you’d been carrying just a little easier to bear. She rocked you gently, her strong hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“We’ll get through this together,” she whispered, her voice as steady as her resolve. “I’ll fight every battle with you, dove. You don’t have to bleed alone.”

You nodded weakly against her chest, your tears soaking into her shirt as she continued to hold you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because to her, you were.

MEL

Mel had a way of drawing the truth out of people, her natural elegance and empathy making it impossible to lie to her. When she first noticed the scars on your arm, a fleeting glimpse as you adjusted your sleeve, she didn’t say anything. Not right away. Instead, she observed, waiting for the right moment to approach you.

That moment came one quiet evening in her private study. You’d been sitting together in silence, the golden glow of the lamps illuminating her features as she worked on a painting.

“My love,” she began, her tone casual yet deliberate, “I’ve noticed something. Will you talk to me about it?”

You stiffened, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

She set her brush down, turning to face you fully. Her gaze was gentle, but it pierced through every wall you’d built. “I saw the scars, darling,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hide them from me.”

Your breath caught, and tears filled your eyes but you held them back as you stammered, “I—I don’t know what you are talking about, love.”

Mel crossed the room and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. “Y/N, my love, you do know that you don’t have to hide this from me, yes? I know it may be a sensitive topic, and I get if you are not ready to fully talk about it, but I hate to see you hurt yourself.”

You stared down at her as the tears stung to far and started trailing down your cheeks, causing you to choke on a sob. “I—I just didn’t want to see how weak I am, especially if it makes me do this.”

Mel paused, looking at you with a look of disbelief and love. “Weak? My love, you are not weak for surviving through the pain in your own way. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone, not anymore atleast.”

She brought your hands to her lips, kissing them tenderly. “I want to help you, however I can. You are everything to me.”

Her words broke through the dam, and you sobbed as she pulled you into her arms. “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “Always.”

GRAYSON

Grayson was the epitome of calm and collected, especially due to being an enforcer. Her steady presence made you feel safe, but it also made it hard to open up about the pain you carried. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore when someone she loved was struggling.

She first noticed when she brushed against your arm during a casual hug, her keen eyes catching the slight flinch you tried to hide. Grayson didn’t say anything then, but later that evening, right after shift as you sat together on the couch with a cup of tea, she addressed it.

“Darling,” she began, setting her tea aside. “I’ve noticed something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

You froze, your cup trembling in your hands. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes softened as she reached out, placing a hand over yours. “I saw the marks, love. You don’t have to explain if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you glanced at her before looking down at your wrists. You could feel the pain rise just from looking at the area, but the reminder that it helped.

Slowly, you took a breath and whispered, “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re always so strong, and I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Grayson’s expression shifted, a flicker of heartbreak crossing her face. She set your cup aside and pulled you into her arms, her embrace gentle yet firm.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re never a bother to me. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Her calm voice washed over you like a balm. “Whatever’s hurting you, I want to be here. Whether it’s listening or talking with you about other options, I couldn’t care less, as long as you know that we are doing it together.”

You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice steady. “More than anything. And I’ll always be here for you.”

A/N: I honestly got a lot of requests for this, and I know that it might be a very sensitive topic for some people. However, for however it touches on a more personal level, I hope that you guys are okay and know that you are enough (and hoping this was able to comfort you a little).

[uravitypng]

𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲

pairing: yandere satoru gojo x chubby reader

summary: at the beginning gojo made your life hell when he first sees you because you won't give him attention. then it all changes, he just hated seeing you cry and he'll use all his resources and power to love you and spoil you

word count: 14.7k words

a/n: okay okay! i'm back! with something incredibly longer compared to every other oneshot i've written. i started this before gojo's birthday but it just kept getting longer and longer, then came the holidays and then i got ill too but it's finally finished, yay! i hope you all enjoy this and of course like always make sure you read the warnings before reading x

content warnings: gojo is a yandere!! friends to lovers, hints of stalking, gojo manipulates everyone, mentions of breeding, fingering, rough unprotective sex, cumming inside, gojo calls her 'silly girl' in his head and thinks she thinks to much (kind of like 'you don't need to think or make decisions or earn money because i can do that for you'), dirty talk, dumbification, objectification(?), submissive reader, dominant gojo, petnames: princess, sweetheart, (good girl) (if i've missed anything please let me know because it's very possible with 14.7k words - mdni / 18+

everyone flocks to satoru gojo, girls and guys alike, they want his attention, if only for a second, and want to be noticed by him. he's the beating heart to every social situation, with an ability to draw every single eye in the room on him, feeding off the spotlight and admiration. whatever he wants he gets it, he has since he was a young child so why are you being so difficult?

there's not many who he considers his equal, if he had to pick out one it would be his best friend from childhood suguru geto, two families telling their children to talk to the other in hopes to form more connections. gojo remembers to this day being five years old dressed up in a suit that was too stuffy for any five year old to wear, taken to a party with his parents. everywhere he looked there were elites and politicians, anyone and everyone with power. he remembers the nudge his mother gave him towards suguru's direction, telling her son to make friends. others at the university are lesser than him, but they're entertaining for a short duration, before he gets bored of them and tosses them away for someone else, that is.

then there's the nobodies, the lowest of the low. uninteresting in every way possible with nothing to offer him, nothing to pique his interest and in terms of satoru gojo you're a typical nobody but even the nobodies look his way when they think people won't notice. even the really shy ones or the stubborn ones who always say how much they despise how everyone adores him will momentarily glimpse in his direction when they think no one's looking.

but you... you look right past him, and it pisses him off. do you think you're better than him? even people in long term relationships eyes drift to him, most would break up with their partner for just one night with him. this 'most' mainly means all, everyone wants a chance to be with the man whose sexual escapades are spoken about frequently in such a high regard.

it's not like you don't know about his existence, you do, but you want to keep yourself to yourself. even your closest friends talk about the famous satoru gojo but he gives you the shivers for some reason. you've never spoken to him and you don't intend to, even if it's everyone's dream, it's not yours, something's just not quite right about him. you live in completely different worlds, different universes, and you prefer to dream about things more realistic, maybe dragons and flying saucers on occasion but never satoru gojo. not only is associating with him unrealistic but just the thought of him makes you shudder. he's too cocky, too self-assured, too arrogant, too loud, too... attractive, it doesn't seem right that someone would look that good. it's like he's hypnotised everyone bar you.

first it's irritation when he notices your behaviour, it's clear when you're acting the complete opposite to everyone, then it's anger when he sees you pay attention to someone that isn't him. something must be wrong with you if you're laughing at a joke that he didn't make, a joke told by another nobody, not just a nobody but someone a year younger. his actions are fuelled by his anger and his annoyance towards you. he makes sure every friend and acquaintance you have stops talking to you, it's easy really. all those so called 'friends' leave you alone after 'overhearing' hushed voices talk about how gojo's more likely to talk to someone when they're not friends with someone who's like you. it was easy to orchestrate it, all he needed was two girls who constantly fawn over him, perfect for doing his bidding.

"gojo never talks to yumehara, even though she tries so hard."

"yeah, it's because she's friends with moriyama. associating with someone like her is a no-go."

"moriyama?"

"yeah, you know that girl in class a, the one who thinks she's better than everyone and doesn't care about gojo."

you now sit by yourself and walk the corridors alone- easy. if he was more sympathetic towards you he'd almost feel bad that all of your friends would stop talking to you so readily.

next was your grades. the gojo family funds the university meaning that he had much more power than the average person, even more than people who also come from wealthy families. professors know it's in their best interest not to get on the bad side of the heir of the gojo family, not just for the university's sake but for themselves as well. one wrong move and they'll be fired, blacklisted throughout town unable to get a job. one wrong move and the university could lose all their funding. he wields more power than the headmaster.

you already get average grades, typically b's and occasionally c's but if he plays his cards right he knows he can lower those c's another extra grade down to an f and he knows just who to start with. professor iura: a man in his mid-thirties who's respected by all and he knows you like him. he's been told you try extra hard in his class, taking double the amount of notes in his lectures than you ordinarily do. he knows getting an f in his class first would be more hurtful than over all the other classes.

"professor iura don't you think the girl who wrote the paper on-" he stops mid sentence, what did you write about again?- "something so boring it hasn't even sunk in. i remember everyone else's but not hers." he only remembers his own and there was never any reason to see what a nobody like you wrote about.

the professor's eyebrows furrow before quickly schooling his expression back to impassive. satoru has used his influence before but iura's never heard about him using it as payback for whichever poor soul's caught his ire. "who is it?" iura thought you deserved an a this time, it's disappointing that he'll have to give you an f.

all these things start stacking up and you feel like the universe is against you, you don't understand your sudden drop in grades or why your friends won't talk to you. you do your best to put on a brave face but you feel alone, you have no one to turn to, you don't understand why everyone gives you the cold shoulder and why they pretend you don't exist, your facial expression dropping when someone ignores you for the umpteenth time. you don't understand how your water always seems to spill in your bag all over your things even though you swear you've put on the lid securely, screwing the lid on the bottle so tightly your hands suffer the consequence, almost raw, from how tight you've tried to make it. you can't afford to buy another textbook and you don't have enough time to rewrite your essay.

you don't understand how things go missing every time you look away. you glance to the window when you see a falling leaf, burnt orange and crimson red litter the floor outside. autumn is so beautiful, a season of harvest and abundance but it's a reminder to you that nothing lasts forever, leaves fall and people leave. people talk about how autumn is maturing but omits the melancholy idea that it's just growing old, that burnt oranges and crimson reds are just rotting on the ground. your whole world is rotting with every second, the universe has it out for you and by the time you look back into the room your pen is missing.

gojo takes pleasure from seeing your face at these times, that puzzled look and biting your lip in frustration as you've lost another pen or that pout when your friend ignores you, he thinks it looks pretty on you. not that he'd ever admit that of course.

his pleasure twists though, into a new emotion- a darker emotion. you got another f and you look... sad... distraught. satoru enjoys seeing your pout when something goes wrong for you, he thinks it's pretty but he's watching you like a hawk right now, he can't take his eyes off you, he can tell you're trying desperately to hold it all together but you can't stop your eyes from welling up, it's impossible to stop your waterline brimming with tears, overflowing like a broken tap, hot tears running down your face, you attempt to quickly wipe your tears away with the back of your sleeve in hopes that nobody has seen but it's too late for that. he thought he would take pleasure in seeing you cry but instead it's pure rage. even though he's the one that's convinced all of your professors to give you f's, all he feels is fury for them making you cry. he doesn't want you to cry, he wants to keep you safe, wants to make you all his.

in the following weeks professors leave the university without announcing it to students. leaving studies and classes in a limbo for awhile. not just the professor who made you cry is gone but also iura and several others.

with that limbo period came more group projects to fill in the space of the lack of lectures. a 'little' push from satoru to higher ups and you were paired up together, leaving you no choice to spend time together and have your first conversation with each other. at this point he needed to be near you. you sit across from each other after class and you introduce yourself to each other, even though you both know who the other is, you didn't expect him to know you and he acts like he doesn't. "oh i know you, i really liked your last paper. you got an f, right? i can't believe that, it was the best one." after all your friends avoiding you and all those f's getting validation makes you shyly smile, your cheeks feel warm and you're starting to understand why people like him.

things start to change after that. your f's go back to normal and people are kinder, with everything going back to normal satoru makes sure you're still alone though, makes sure your friends continue not to talk to you. he's the only one that's allowed to do that. your friends still don't spend time with you, instead gojo does and honestly you don't mind that change, you appreciate that change, you don't know what happened with your friends but you like how gojo doesn't dismiss your emotions and opinions like they used to do.

you previously had that inkling that something was wrong with him but his easygoing smiles and playful words make you enjoy your time with him and his once overconfidence that you always used to observe which once bothered you now makes your heartbeat go crazy in your chest, like marching drums hammering away against your ribcage.

satoru notices this change in you and he takes advantage of it. this change doesn't make him lose interest in you, maybe if you were someone else it would but not with you, if anything it makes him more interested because he learns more and more without you, some with your consent and knowledge others without it. he thinks you look so cute when you smile and he loves hearing you laugh. he never really liked music but he's listened to all those music and songs you share to the world like the ones you love that you play in cars and talk to people about them, plus the more secret ones hidden in your likes and private playlists. he loves the things you do that you don't realise you're doing, the soft sighs you make when you put on a warm coat when it's cold or the hums when you drink a hot drink. how you bite your pen when you're deep in thought and linger by the door before leaving the house and locking up, mentally checking you have everything you need with you. the little moans you make when you eat something that you love, at those times satoru has to restrain himself from kissing you. he loves it all. he loves you.

you see each other whenever possible and if you can't you'll be texting, he'll send you emoji's at the end of messages that you don't understand the context to and will send you selfies and photos of cats he's seen while around town.

after the first few times at the library you tend to see each other at café because they're more relaxed and you can talk as loud as you want to. he starts paying for your lunch whenever you're together, you always used to insist to pay yourself but after the first few times you relented, he could buy you breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for the rest of your life yet it still wouldn't make a dent in his wallet. not only does he buy you lunch now but it's much more extravagant then you could afford for yourself.

you're walking together past a store front window and gojo sees something that catches his eye, stopping where he is and pulling on your sleeve to stop you too. "look at this!"

your eyes scan the window not knowing what he's talking about, all of them are designer clothes but none of them are men's. "what are we looking at gojo?"

he grins and points to a blouse, "that would look so good on you, you'd look so cute!" 'doubtful' you think. you scoff, that is a cute blouse but no way. "hey, what was that for? it's true." he insists.

"i don't even need to go in there to see that it's way out of my price range, plus designer brands like that never have my size anyway."

"you didn't say you didn't like it."

"me liking or not liking it isn't the point."

you carry on the rest of your day like it didn't happen and you forget about the whole thing. gojo doesn't.

all of gojo's fans start to get jealous of you, it's been over three months, the limbo period is over and new people have been hired, group projects are finished but you still spend all your days together. his previous relationships have been no more than eye candy only lasting a couple weeks yet you don't even seem to be dating so why is he always smiling when you talk and is walking you everywhere. they can't comprehend it, you're a nobody.

satoru loses it one day. you've gone to hand in your library book, it's overdue and you had forgotten about it, you needed it for when you and gojo were working together but you forgot all about it. gojo's waiting outside for you, you know the librarian likes you more so you've told him it's better if you go on your own, he knows that isn't true but as long as the librarian is kind to you he won't intervene. 'if the librarian knows what's good for her she'll let it go and not upset you.'

someone gojo vaguely recognises as a cheerleader who suguru slept with a few times spots him and goes over to him, leaning against him and pushing her breasts up against him. it disgusts him. "what are you doing here gojo? don't tell me that friend of yours is making you wait for her." she says in a sickly sweet voice and his eye twitches. he doesn't reply, she should get the idea and leave. "if i were her i'd never do that. why don't you come hang out with me? me and my friends are having a party later we'd love it if you'd come. normally i wouldn't come up to you so boldly but i think i'd be able to show you a good time, not like that girl you're always spending time with, you're so out of her league." she runs her hand along his arm but he grabs it tightly making her wince.

"don't ever fucking talk about her again," gojo responds coldly. he squeezes tighter and she yelps. he lets go of arm and pushes her away, almost in revulsion that he touched her. she stumbles and leans against the wall, looking shocked. at that time you push open the door with a relieved look on your face. satoru ignores the girl, acting like she doesn't exist, he smiles brightly at you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, she was surprisingly very understanding," you return his smile and shut the door behind you. when you shut the door you see the girl leaning against the wall staring at gojo and you wonder why. you've seen lots of gojo's fans but none of them have looked at him like that. you turn your attention back to gojo, not really wanting to engage with the girl if you can help it, you've never seen her before but you can tell that she's someone who would make your life hell if you knew each other as teenagers. "is everything okay?" you ask him, vaguely gesturing to her.

he grins and strolls towards you lifting up his sunglasses and lifting up your chin to look at him, forcing you to make eye contact and in doing so you get flustered and frazzled. gojo would sometimes put his arm over your shoulder when your walking together or grab hold of you quickly from behind unexpectedly, making you jump but this is the first time it's ever been so intimate. it's also rare for you to see gojo without his sunglasses on. "everything's fine." he grins and pats your head jokingly making you glare and pout. he snickers as he sees your reaction and lets go of your chin, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

"alright, if you say so, but for lunch i'm getting extra for that, i'm not some pet." you grumble and walk off together. satoru's mind flashes with images with you on your knees, 'i think she'd make a good pet. maybe i should buy her a collar.' he snickers again and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what's so funny?"

"nothing," he smirks. as you walk away he turns back around to look at the girl still standing there paralysed and glares hard at the girl. normally people would be swooning when they see his bright blue eyes like the clearest spring days but not right now, they'd all be wrong, his eyes aren't clear like any warm day they're frozen over and icy, with flecks of white and all that girl feels is despair and dread. he looks at her so cruelly, it makes her unable to move- frozen in place.

you haven't seen gojo for the last few days, it's the longest you've gone without seeing him since you became friends. even if you've both been busy previously gojo makes sure to have seen you, even if it's only for a minute, but you've both been too busy. gojo has had basketball practise in the day and in the night his family demands his attendance whilst discussing family affairs and you on the other hand have been busy studying, wanting to make sure you don't get any f's again. you don't realise you won't though, everything could be incoherent with each other word being spelled terribly and you'd never get an f again, gojo's made sure of that. he won't let anyone make you cry again.

you rhythmically tap your fingers, fidgeting on the table where your laptop and textbooks are, 'i want to see him.' satoru's scored another goal, this time a three point line goal, normally he goes for slam dunks but as long as he's the one scoring it doesn't really bother him. he's got a big game coming up and you're going to be there, you're going for him, you've never been to any of the games before, not having any real interest in the sport but now your friend is the star player so you're not going to miss any games. he'll score every single point his team makes so your eyes have no option but to focus on him and after the match you'll compliment him. the coach asks him something but it's all white noise to him, 'i miss her.'

you get a text on the fourth day of not seeing him and when you read the message you smile so wide your face becomes sore. 'the last few days have been so long without you! i know we normally go out for lunch but do you want to go for dinner?'

you don't hesitate responding, 'i'd love too!'

'i'll pick you up an hour before our reservations, i've brought you something.'

'reservations? did you plan tonight? and what's this about buying me something? you already pay for my lunch.'

'i've pulled some strings xoxo see you tonight.' you scowl when you read that he's blatantly ignored your comment about buying you something and if he's went out his way to pull some strings for this meal it must be more than a fast food drive-thru or the equivalent. you didn't really expect him to take you somewhere where you can eat in your car or it's acceptable to wear a three day old top and a hoodie that is a little too small but for him to go to the effort of pulling strings this must be a sophisticated place.

half an hour later you hear your phone again, multiple messages being sent one after another, five buzzes. 'shit.' 'I FORGOT' 'i forgot to send a time!' 'i'll see you at 6.' 'pretend this never happened.' you cover your face with your phone and giggle.

by six you're ready, it's taken you longer to get ready then you'd like to admit but you wanted to look pretty, it would be embarrassing to underdress. compared to gojo anything you or any 'normal' person would wear looks cheap in comparison to all his designer clothes but you spent hours making sure it would be suitable.

it's ten past six when you hear a knock on the door. opening it you see gojo in all his glory, his attractiveness on full display and his wealthiness showing, wearing an all black giorgio armani suit with a white shirt underneath, his sunglasses look different than normal, fancier, you think you can make out a ray-ban logo. he's wearing a rolex watch which is more than double your monthly rent. his hair looks shorter than the last time you saw him, he must of had a haircut in the last few days. it's obvious the way your eyes linger on him, checking him out and gojo grins as you unknowingly fuel his pride and ego.

"awe, you look so cute princess," gojo says playfully, smirking. princess- the first time he had called you that you malfunctioned, your eyes had widened and you forgot to breath. no one else has ever called you a term of endearment before and you didn't expect your friend, satoru gojo, to be saying it. you didn't ask why he called you it, why would you? it made your fingertips tingle and the inside of your chest to warm up. "can i come in?" you nod your head and move to the side to give him enough room to come in and close the door after him. "you really do look beautiful," he says gently, you don't think you've ever heard him speak so tenderly before.

"you look good too gojo, you always do but- but tonight as well," you tell him, bashfully smiling. he grins and his eyes gleam with glee at the genuine compliment. he loves when you compliment him, it feels different than the vapid ones others offer him, even if you compliment him with only a few words it means a greater deal.

behind his back he's carrying a sleek black box with a scarlet red chiffon ribbon wrapped around it in a bow containing his gift to you, your eyes narrow when he hands it too you, although your voice is soft and quiet when you say, "it's not my birthday gojo, why are you buying me things? you don't have to do that," your voice gets quieter with each word spoken.

gojo takes your hand in his and places the box in your hand. "i can buy you things because i can. i have enough money and i want to spend it on you," he tells you firmly and your stomach flutters with butterflies but you don't know why, his hand is awfully soft maybe that's why your heart is racing or maybe it's because he spoke to you firmly like there's no room for arguments. gojo cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and strokes it, your whole body melts at the action, "just open it 'kay?"

you nod your head and hum, relenting- just like you did when he began paying for your lunch. you delicately unwrap the bow, not wanting to ruin the box, and open it, you didn't know what to expect, you could of been given a hundred guesses and a hundred days to guess what he brought you and you still would have no clue. you pause as you open up the lid, your heart skips a beat and it's almost as if the air was stolen from your lungs like deflated balloons as you breathlessly say, "satoru! what's this?" inside the box is the blouse you were looking at all those weeks ago, the one you said was too expensive, the one you said would never fit.

'satoru' it's the first time you've ever called him by his given name and it sounds so angelic coming from your lips that he's forgotten to breathe, everything pausing and not moving. "do you like it?" he finally asks.

you nod your head in an almost daze, you're in awe that he'd really give you something so beautiful, that he would go out of his way to buy it. "i- i don't deserve this gojo."

he steps closer to you, "uh uh, what's with calling me gojo again?"

your eyes widen as you realise that only a second ago you called him by his given name, "oh! i'm so sorry! i was just in shock, i didn't mean to call you that gojo," you ramble.

he smoothed out the wrinkles of his forehead rubbing it with his fingers, which is currently caused because he finds your lack of awareness disconcerting. "that isn't what i meant princess, i want you to call me satoru. i want to give this to you."

"oh... okay," you're quiet and you've pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. it won't be hard to start calling him satoru, you already call him satoru in your head. after a long pause of you trying to put your thoughts all together you start speaking again, "are you sure about this satoru? this is bound to be expensive, right? it's- it's ralph lauren isn't it? isn't this too expensive too be spending on me." gojo has to hide a smirk at that, 'has she forgotten how rich i am?' "and, and i don't want you to think that i want to spend time with you because you have money or anything!" 'ah she's adorable, i could just cancel our reservations and have her on her knees the whole night to say thank you for the blouse... i couldn't do that though, not right now... if i don't see her in that blouse in the next five minutes i'll go insane.'

"of course i'm sure about this princess, i know you'd never spend time with me for clothes from ralph lauren." he resists the urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, not at this moment.

you take the blouse out of the gift box and hold it out in front of you, there's a twinkle in your doe eyes as you look at it in wonder, knowing that this is yours, whispering, "pretty," it's barely audible. "wait, i didn't think this store went up to my size? did you go to a different store? and... how do you know my size." you ask him confused.

"i have my ways," he answers and winks at you, you scoff at the wink and narrow your eyes.

"seriously satoru," you press him. 'ah she could ask me anything and i'll tell her if she keeps calling me satoru.' "actually i know you know my size from when you've seen my coats and jumpers lying around but-" 'oh yeah... that's totally how i know...' "- how did you get it in my size?"

"annoyingly they don't actually make that particular blouse in your size... how ridiculous is that, sadly i don't have enough money and connections to make them ruined and bankrupt." he says nonchalantly, casually waving his arm around. you bark out a laugh thinking that he was joking. he wasn't. if even one article of clothing isn't made in your size it should only be fair for the brand to lose all their money and reputation, no matter what the brand is.

"hold up how do i have this if it doesn't come in my size?" you cock your head to the side quizzically and for the second time gojo thinks about buying you a collar, maybe with a matching lead...

he grins and flicks his eyes back and forth between your face and the blouse you're holding up. "obviously i got it custom made,"

"that's- that's obvious?!" you splutter and he laughs.

"obviously." he reiterates, enjoying your reaction- dumbstruck and lips parted in near disbelief.

"it'll take us thirty minutes to get to the restaurant princess and our reservations in about forty minutes." he lets you know and you snap out of your stupor.

"i'll just get my bag."

"hang on!" satoru rushes out before you can leave to get your bag. "you look beautiful right now princess but don't you want to see how that blouse looks on you?" you shift your weight from side to side, heat rising to your cheeks. 'do i really have time to get changed? i spent so long choosing this outfit too.' before you can say something gojo stops you, not wanting to give you an opportunity to say no or think to hard about it. he wants you to do it, you don't have to have an opinion on the matter, leave that him. sometimes you can't be trusted when it comes to these things. "come on princess, i'm the one who brought you it. just wear it, please. i want to make sure it fits properly."

you yield, "okay let me go get changed."

satoru smirks, 'good girl.'

as you come back out of the bedroom adrenaline bursts through his veins. you twirl around, pausing when you circle back round to gojo and picking up the hem of your skirt playfully with one hand and doing a half curtsy, it's such a happy coincidence that the blouse pairs so well with the skirt you're already wearing, "how do i look?" 'beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal.'

"perfect," he replies dreamily and you giggle, thinking he isn't being serious and is exaggerating.

"i'm serious satoru," you tell him, it was meant to sound firm and like you won't back down until you get an answer but it just turned out sounding a little whiny.

gojo smirks and leisurely saunters to you, stopping when coming up close in front of you, "you look truly beautiful sweetheart." 'sweetheart' he's never called you that before. you don't know if your heart can keep taking it all. satoru's your friend, your close friend, but at times like this it's hard to remember that.

you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling- admittedly unsuccessfully. the corners of your mouth still quirk up and your round cheeks become more predominate. you fight the desire to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, instead opting to twiddle your fingers. "sh-should we get going?"

satoru grins at you, "sure thing."

the whole drive you're both stealing looks at each other when you can get away with it while making small talk and satoru's not letting you know where you're going saying that it's a surprise. whenever there's a red light gojo takes his time to admire you and as you step outside into the night you're astonished at the restaurant in front of you. satoru's handing his car keys to a valet to park his car but you're distracted from that, finally knowing where you're eating tonight. you know this place, well you know of this place. never in a million years would you have thought you'd be dining here, it's so lavish that the cutlery is more expensive than buying a house that's already furnished. "are you okay princess?" you snap out of your daze and nod your head. "alright then, let's go inside."

you follow closely behind gojo, nervous as you enter, you don't think you've ever felt more out of place. satoru doesn't even give his name, the man at the desk recognises him straight away, "ah mr. gojo if you'd follow me." the man leads you upstairs and you hear him asking satoru questions but all that's going through your mind is 'please don't trip, please don't trip.' you're quite accident prone and falling down these stairs would be too much to handle. he takes you all the way to the fourth floor and near the window where you can see the city lights shining below. "here you are."

when the man leaves satoru pulls out a chair for you and you're startled by the gesture. you take your seat and he takes his. "you're more gentlemanly then i expected you to be satoru, pulling out my chair for me," you pause for a second mulling your thoughts over before adding, "or is that normal etiquette?"

"i'm very chivalrous, i'll have you know," he replies pouting and you raise an eyebrow at how fake his answer sounded. he throws his hands up with a smirk, "well, i'm not always chivalrous but if a pretty lady is in front of me than i can become very courteous." you chuckle, trying not to hone in the pretty part for your own sanity.

you glance at the table and worry because satoru might know proper etiquette but you don't. you know the general rules and ideas but why are there two knives and forks next to your plate and a spoon as well? why are there two glasses, a wine one and a normal one? why does the napkin look fancy? does that mean it's just for decoration, what if you need it? you're worried that you'll leave smudges in places where there shouldn't be and what if the table cloth rips? maybe this was a mistake...

"hey," satoru says softly catching your attention, when you look back up at him you see his smirk has turned into a frown and you don't think you've seen that expression on his face before, it doesn't fit right. he's taken off his sunglasses and placed them down, hanging them out of his suit pocket. his striking baby blue eyes glinting when the chandelier droplets move in the light. his snowy white hair looking soft and subdued under the glow of the light and the wavering flame of the candle. "sweetheart, whatever you're thinking right now isn't true."

"how did y-"

he cuts you off before you can finish asking. "because i know you and i know that look on your face, that overthinking look, i can see all those unnecessary cogs turning in your brain."

"i just..." you look away from him, not wanting to look into his eyes any longer knowing you'll crumble but gojo's not allowing that. with how long his arms are it's not difficult reaching over the table to you, placing his fingers below your chin and tilting your head around to look at him.

"just what? sweetheart." satoru presses you.

bunching up your skirt into tight fists you take a shaky breath and try again, "i'm worried i don't belong here. this is a really lovely place satoru and i just... what if i embarrass you? i'm not like you, i don't know when to do certain things or say specific things, i don't know why the table is placed like it is or any of it," after the words stop spewing out your mouth you take another breath, this time not shaky and deep. you look relieved to get it out.

'silly girl.' "do you really think i'd get embarrassed because of you sweetheart? nothing you could do would make me embarrassed. i'm lucky that you're with me right now. i don't care if you don't know all the rules and you shouldn't either, all that matters is that we're here together and we get to finally see each other after some hectic few days," gojo tells you earnestly, his body close to the edge of the table, leaning forward further near you, his voice low and intimate, like what he's saying is a complete secret for your ears only. the days were hectic and finally you're getting to see each other. those tedious meetings with his family and hours of basketball that seemed to stretch on and on but finally- you're together again.

your shoulders sag, you weren't even aware that your plush figure had tensed up in the first place. when satoru saw how you relaxed your posture he picks up one of the menus, "everything okay now?" he asks you, his eyes soft as they gaze at you.

"yeah, i think so." you lick your lips, wetting them after getting dry, the intense spike of emotions throwing your body threw a little bit of a loop, dry lips, moist eyes, with shaky fingers.

gojo grins and leans back on his chair, seeming more casual than a minute ago and hands you a menu. "what are you thinking about getting? i might go for the lobster."

you're browsing the menu but when you hear him you put it down momentarily to reply, "oh please, like you care about the lobster, you just want dessert," you say grinning wide.

gojo gasps and places his hands on his chest in mock offence. "dessert? i think you mean desserts." you laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. "i want you to enjoy this meal just as much as i'm planning to, that's why i intend to get the lobster, i don't want you to feel like you have to rush while eating just because i want dessert and i don't want you to even think about a silly thing like money." 'so he's ordering one of the biggest and expensive dishes? ...that does sound like satoru actually.' although you would be none the wiser about the prices of these meals, it's one of those high-end restaurants that doesn't have the prices on the menu, satoru must have been here often enough to know how much the lobster costs compared to other dishes.

"i don't know what to do about drinks, i hear they've got a fine collection of wines, maybe we should order a couple bottles? do you like wine?" he already knows the answer to that but you don't know that. "they've also got a wide selection of spirits and non-alcoholic drinks too, i believe."

you both order what you want, making idle conversation while waiting.

by the time your food arrives satoru has tried to convince you that you should've ordered a bigger meal, you're content with your choice in the end though and it's not the most surprising that when your food does arrive there's also a side dish for you to which you didn't order.

"i didn't order this satoru," you raise an eyebrow.

gojo smirks, "i know you didn't, but i did. i didn't want you to be hungry and we haven't had lunch together in days have you been eating properly?"

"are you suggesting that because i'm eating food in my price bracket instead of yours that it's not good enough? the food you pay for is definitely better but poor people food taste good too."

he chuckles and smiles at you fondly before replying, "that's not what i'm saying and you know i'm not. I am however asking have you been eating three meals a day?" you wince. "i thought not."

"i've been busy with studies, i didn't have time to eat three meals a day every single day," you try to justify.

"that's exactly what i mean. i won't take any excuses though, you shouldn't have skipped any meals." satoru lightly scowls you but don't take it too seriously, you should have though. 'silly girl, she really can't look after herself properly. it's a good thing i'm here to keep an eye on her. she just can't be trusted on her own.'

you pout at his reasoning, it's not often that gojo reprimands you or anyone you've seen for that matter. knowing that you don't have a leg to stand on you keep quiet.

when you eat the first bite of your food you hum blissfully, so close to being a moan and it's music to satoru's ears, 'god she's adorable.' he doesn't even realise that he isn't eating until you noticed that he's unmoving. "satoru are you okay? you're not eating."

"i'm fine sweetheart just thinking about something," he responds with a smile.

"okay- if you're sure but make sure you eat soon or it'll get cold."

"yes ma'am," satoru gives you a cheeky smile and picks up his fork.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you lose any composure that you previously had. you avert you eyes and focus on the tablecloth, suddenly finding it very interesting, focusing on the material. you never knew being called something would make you feel so strange, it was the complete opposite to gojo calling you princess or sweetheart.

even though satoru picked up his fork and began eating he didn't take his eyes off you at the corner of his eye, he wanted to see your reaction to that name. he wanted to test how docile you are, his theory that you are submissive and it seems he was right, although even if he wasn't and his theory was proven wrong he'd just mold you into what he wants. 'of course she's so perfect that i don't need to change her, she's such a good girl.'

quickly ma'am leaves your head with the more delicious food you have but you can't help some negative thoughts enter your mind. everything starts to feel too good to be true, the twinkling lights and the flickering of the candle on the table, the scenery and the ambience, the delectable food and the amazing beverages, the dream company with someone who you care so very much about, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else and... it just all feels too good to be true.

'how many girls does gojo come here with? they knew who he was without giving his name. i know i'm not his girlfriend. it's not like i'm jealous it's just- i want this so bad to be special. am i one in a long line?' you have to ask, you have to know. if you're not special you need to know.

"satoru-" you start by getting his attention.

he looks up at you and sees the pensive look on your face, he puts his cutlery down and ceases eating, directing all his attention to you, "yes princess?"

"can i ask you something?" you ask, hesitant and more meekly now you have his attention.

"of course you can princess," he smiles and waits for you to ask whatever it is. he truly doesn't know what it could be right now.

"am i special? i mean- wait- not special. i mean do you take lots of girls here? they seemed to know your name already so do you? i know we're friends so it wouldn't be the same as you taking other girls here but do you take lots of girls here?"

he doesn't even try to stop the smirk that creeps onto his face, you're jealous and what's even better do you even know that you're jealous. satoru can barely contain his excitement.

not once have you brought up other girls, not once. you've never asked if it's true that he doesn't date anyone for longer than a month or that he's gone through half the school. you've never asked about the crude gossip about how big his dick is and how he's the best anyone has ever had even though he knows you've definitely heard those rumours. but right now? right now your words hint of jealously and insecurity.

satoru tells the truth as he replies simply "i haven't brought any girls here." gojo dangles the small piece of information in front of you, it isn't a question of if you'll take it and ask further questions he knows you will but he wants to hear you ask for more, it thrills him.

"you-you dont?" you ask for more explanation.

he grins, "nope," he pops the 'p'. "i go here with my family and on occasion suguru but only sometimes with suguru because it can be kind of intimate with two people," he explains and you giggle at the thought of the two of them sitting across from each other here. he carries on his explanation, "i would never go here with other girls, of course you're special," he tells you honestly and your lips part, hanging onto every word spoken.

'i'm special.' you press your lips together but the corners of your mouth still manage to lift up into a small smile. your brain then fully catches up with everything he said and your heart beats erratically, just now satoru said a dinner here between two people is intimate, he didn't word it in that exact way but if a dinner for two with suguru is intimate, a dinner for two with you might be considered intimate too. overall you're pleased with the answer you were given, gojo thinks your special and he doesn't take other girls here.

you eat the rest of your dinner without incident, enjoying every single mouthful and letting gojo know that it's tasty, thanking him. when you order dessert it's no surprise that satoru goes a bit overboard nearly buying the whole dessert menu, not that you would ever complain about a thing like that, the more time you've spent with gojo the more of a sweet tooth you've become yourself.

satoru doesn't attempt to hide the bill, he enjoys the look on your face when you see the amount in the corner of your eye. for him the money is trivial sum but to you it's shockingly high. he gets a power trip when he sees your eyes widen at the money.

"do you want to come back to mine?" satoru asks you while you leave the restaurant and you agree not thinking anything of it. he's been to yours before but you've never been to his. you don't think there's anything behind his question, you don't even consider he's suggesting something and gojo's well aware that you don't realise.

you don't speak much on your way back, you're leaning against the window and watching the city lights, it's starting to drizzle and you feel at ease in your current company, your eyes fluttering, slightly drowsily, as you hear the rain. gojo taps his fingers on the steering wheel and smiles thinking about how adorable you look right now.

the journey back to satoru's could've taken ten minutes to an hour for all you know as your mind wanders and your eyelids get heavy. when you arrive and he parks up and you get out of the car, you shiver a bit as the cold air hits you, giving you a shock and getting rid of any lingering tiredness and satoru walks around the car to be next to you. he pouts as he bends down to look at you, his sunglasses still in his jacket pocket, "pretty ladies aren't just supposed to have their chair pulled out for them, they're meant to have doors open for them too."

you giggle and bump against him, "flattery will get you nowhere mister." it does. luckily you'll be able to blame your flushed face due to the bitterly cold if gojo questions you on it.

"let's get inside sweetheart, it's cold." 'sweetheart' something else you can luckily blame on the weather. you're not expecting satoru to randomly touch your face though so you think you're going to be okay.

you follow him inside and the size of his place is a large as you thought it would be, you're learning to expect everything he owns is extravagant. the interior however is something you take note of, you've only entered one room but it seems barren. the walls are drab, painted slate grey and off white with only the bare necessaries of furniture and nothing more. devoid of any human presence. you're not even sure if he's lived here long and when he looks at you he can see those unnecessary cogs turning in your head again. "is something on your mind princess?"

"um-" you don't really know if you should bring it up but your curiosity gets the better of you. "have you lived here long?"

"a couple of years," satoru leans against the wall and smirks.

"i just- there's not a lot of stuff in here, it looks like you still have unpacking to do."

he pushes himself off the wall and goes over to you, "do you think i should get more stuff? like cushions for the the sofa and posters on the wall?" you feel gojo's breath against your skin as he leans down to talk in your ear quietly, it's so intimate, your mind draws a blank finding it hard to think with him so close to you. satoru is playful and he's teasing and you've heard rumours that he's a flirt but he's never been this close to you before, you've never been able to smell his cologne and been this close to feel his warm breath against your neck. "maybe we should go shopping together and you could help me pick out some stuff?" you're holding your breath, not being able to breathe anymore. "or maybe it would be better if you just stayed here and brought your stuff along? you do always complain about your rent being high."

you take a sharp intake of air and move a step away from him so you can look back at him in the eye. mentally shaking your head to forgot about his remark. 'did gojo just say about me being his roommate? i'd get to see him everyday... wait... i'd have to hear him all the time when he brings home girls and does he even clean after himself properly?'

"did you have too much to drink tonight satoru? you know you shouldn't drink and drive," you reply with light tone, reminding yourself not to think too hard about the situation, almost being successful in your mission.

satoru just watches you and smirks as he sees you try to ignore his comment. "anyway i don't think you need a roommate." 'roommate? yeah i don't need one of those...'

"and for all i know you might steal my food from the fridge and not wash up the dishes. plus i always forget my towel when i shower." you say the last sentence flippantly, but satoru's mind fills with thoughts of you... 'walking out of the shower into the living room with a small towel on, barely covering your body, body damp with water dripping down your neck, onto your shoulders down to the valley of your breasts...' he's getting hard just imagining it.

"are you okay satoru? you're a bit red." you question and the topic of conversation changes.

satoru moves back away from you, "i'm okay princess, probably thirsty. do you want a drink?" he's glad of this change, he'd like to tease you more but there'd be a real chance you'd see his erection, he could probably tease you about it if you'd notice it but he doesn't think you're ready yet. he wants to make sure you're relaxed and comfortable. you've got a long night ahead of you.

"sure."

following him into the kitchen you take a seat on one of the kitchen counter stools. "what would you like to drink?"

not wanting to ask for something he might not have or cause a fuss you respond with, "whatever you're having is good with me."

'she's so predictable.' he pours both of you your favourite drink, he knows all your preferences, of course he's stocked up on everything you like. he hands it to you and you smile wide, "this is like my all time favourite drink, i didn't know you liked it too."

in situations like this he switches his answers up from time to time not wanting you to get suspicious. "do you like these too? the amount i get through weekly is crazy." he makes sure to separate things into two categories, things you've told him and things you haven't but he knows anyway. he wouldn't want to mention in conversation about how he remembers that you like these drinks when you've never told so.

satoru likes when he tells you things that subtly suggest, 'look how much we have in common. we like all the same music and drinks!'

he prefers when he tells you he remembers something you told him, you quietly replying to him once about how much it means to you because "no one has ever cared about me to remember something so mundane about me." he swears that he'll remember everything about you, he swore he'd never forget a single thing.

gojo takes his place next to you, sitting on the stool and purposely brushing his hand against your rib, under your breast, and he gets pleasure from seeing you straighten up your back.

you both enjoy your drinks and kick your legs in the air. "i feel bad because you've been driving me around all night. when i go i'll get an uber or cab or something."

gojo frowns, "are you going now?"

"n-no! unless you want me to?" you don't want to overstay your welcome and you have a feeling that if gojo wanted you to go he'd let you know and you want to look around the other rooms if you have a chance, perhaps not his bedroom for privacy reasons but you want to see if his other rooms have plain decoration and if the bathroom has any noteworthy products in, you have always wanted to know how his skin looks so good all the time.

"i'm definitely not telling you to leave princess... in fact why don't you stay the night? you can stay in the spare room. no pressure though. you don't have to but there might not be anywhere you can get a lift because of how late it is and how it's the other side of town adding that all onto it's now pouring down. i'd offer to take you back myself but i'm not a huge fan of driving in the dark, especially if the roads are slippy 'cause to the rain. it's your choice. i'm sure you'll get someone to take you eventually but it might be less effort to stay here and leave tomorrow?"

he knows you don't want to wait forever getting home, he knows you want to take him up on his offer but something is stopping you, he doesn't know what is it for a moment until he figures it. "it's absolutely no bother, i don't mind and i've got clothes that you can wear, i think i wore them to lounge about in on tuesday so i haven't had time to wash them yet but i don't think that's a huge problem. i wear them a lot but they're too big on me, you should fit in them."

that small comment might have upset you more if it came from someone else but you don't think gojo meant it maliciously, you think it came from a good place, however you couldn't help thinking about it, the words 'they're too big on me, you should fit in them' ring around your head, about how you should fit in them. you know that satoru didn't mean anything by that but you've never worn someone else's clothes before so it gives you a bit of anxiety and satoru can see that.

gojo speaks again in an attempt to stop you from other thinking. "if you did want to go i'll give you the money to get a cab but if not you can stay, it's no problem, in fact i would enjoy it." your eyes snap up to look at him and you see a soft smile adorning his face. "we could watch that new film you were telling me about and i don't mean to brag but my shower is amazing, nothing compares, even five star hotels." you crack a smile but your mind still lingers on the clothes. satru can see that still not fully convinced and there's something stopping you, "is this about the clothes?" you shift your eyes away nervously not wanting to admit how you clung to a few words. gojo stops himself from sighing in exasperation. "if you'd feel more comfortable keeping the blouse and skirt on you can, you do look good in them but you shouldn't overthink about wearing my clothes. i know i said they're not clean but i've only worn them once since they've been washed it's not like they're diseased." you giggle and satoru gets less exasperated after hearing you laugh.

"they'll fit you if that's what you're worried about and honestly even if they are a little tight you'd still look good in my shirt, it would just hang onto your hips a bit." your mouth parts, the previous throwaway remark being swiped away like smoke by his hand, instead being replaced by insurance that it will fit and if by the off chance it doesn't then it's not the end of the world. he hopes it doesn't fit.

it quells your mind and you agree to stay. "thank you satoru, i'd appreciate staying, over the hassle of getting home."

he grins at your answer, hands itching to take off your blouse. "do you want a shower now so we can watch that film?"

"sounds good." you follow him into the bathroom and it looks like the living room, crystal clean, newly moved into, the only difference is his electric toothbrush on the side and moisturiser. gojo doesn't leave when he shows you into the room, he doesn't leave when he makes a quick explanation about how the shower works, in fact he didn't tell you at all. instead of telling you he turns the shower on, adjusting the handle to change the temperature to the one you prefer and pressing a button next to the handle, keeping his finger on it for a few seconds before removing it, changing the water pressure. "here you go princess," he grins and turns back to you. you think to yourself about how you could of figured out how to work the shower but you don't vocalise it, you've been in enough showers to know how they work but satoru's one is probably different if he did it himself.

"oh, the shower wash and shampoo is there, i don't know if you want to wash your hair but it's there if you need it. you'll have to use my one." he then leaves, before placing a towel on the sink for you to grab when you get out. he owns all the soaps and scents you use but you can't use them, he doesn't want to share. if he gave you them you'd be suspicious and there would be less for him to use when he misses your smell, groaning in the shower after he gets home from basketball his hands massaging your shampoo into his scalp, one hand in his hair the other fisting his cock. he'll buy you new perfumes and soaps for the holidays, he would never change any of your signature scents but you deserve more expensive products in his eyes.

a part of you still can't help but think about the clothes but when you step into the shower your eyes close and body relaxes, somehow it's the perfect way you like your showers. all of it melts away and as you pick up gojo's shower wash your body heats up inside. you're going to use the same soap as gojo uses and once you recognise how you reacted you shake your head to get away from all those thoughts. everybody at your university would likely have the same reaction as you but you're not just anyone, satoru is your dear friend and he deserves more respect than you just gave him. you don't spend long showering, wanting to not use his soap for a long period and you end up not washing your hair.

you dry yourself but panic as you can't find clothes anywhere, did satoru forget? maybe the plan was for you to put your clothes back on until he's gave you them. opening the door ajar you peek outside, you're planning on seeing if you can hear satoru, asking him about the clothes but before you can you see a shirt on the floor next to the door. picking it up, you close the door quickly and breathe deeply, glad that you noticed the shirt before calling out to gojo.

when you start to slip into the shirt you feel a repeat of the shower, it smells so much like him. you didn't realise when you agreed to this you'd have to be concerned about this but you are and it's making you feel guilty. like you're no better than those girls who throw themselves at him, only based on appearances alone. you put it on as quickly as you can and try to ignore the smell but the entire room is filled with it. it smells different to the soap, it smells more like him, 'his natural scent?' you ponder. it effects you differently than it would his fans though, they'd be filled with thoughts that are less than appropriate, like being pushed into his pillow while he's taking them from behind or not wasting time with getting completely nude but to you they're innocent, the smell is comforting like when he surprises you by suddenly grabbing you from behind or crowding your space as you worked on projects together. it's not the smell of satoru gojo, famous 'womaniser', 'manwhore', 'heartbreaker', with a reputation that would make a nymphomaniac blush, it's the smell of satoru gojo- your gojo. and annoyingly your gojo, your friend, smells really good.

satoru was right about the shirt. because of how tall he is it reached down to your thigh, you were slightly worried about accidentally flashing him but it was long enough not to worry too much about it. he was also right about how it clung to you. even though it clung to you it didn't make you feel uncomfortable, the fabric stretched a tad around your hips and chest but it didn't make you feel uneasy, you doubt satoru would even notice. he, of course, does. and takes great pleasure in it.

you fold up the towel and leave it in the laundry basket. exiting the room you hear satoru and go to him. he hears you near him entering the room and looks up from the sofa, "you okay?"

you smile sweetly and nod your head, "i'm okay, it was a good shower."

he returns your smile, "i'm glad."

satoru doesn't hide his staring as you move to the sofa to sit down next to him. you're so cute and you're so hot all he can do is stare and he's so thankful that you agreed to come to his and stay. he's never let anyone wear his clothes before, it's a boundary that he doesn't cross. his previous relationships weren't allowed to wear his clothes, if it was cold outside and someone didn't bring a coat he wouldn't give them his, he never cared about them that much to do things like that but when you walk in wearing his clothes his heart jumps with joy. he never thought about how much he'd love seeing you wear his shirt, it's not just a shirt it's a statement, you're his, he owns you. it barely covers your thighs and he knows if he gets you to move and bend down, even if only slightly, everything will be on display. his shirt is clinging to your curves and he's practically salivating as your hips look so grabbable.

you're none the wiser of this and when he turns on the film you previously spoken about he was paying more attention to you than the television, every so often shuffling a little bit closer to you. he doesn't wait long, it's been about twenty minutes through the film before he puts his arm around you, he slings his arm around your shoulder when you walk together sometimes so it's not the first time this has happened. this is regular behaviour in your eyes.

forgetting his arm is even around you you become invested in what you're watching, you were right to mention it to gojo, it's exceeded your expectations. you have no reaction to satoru taking his arm off your shoulder and instead placing it on your plush thigh. he has more of a reaction that you do, biting his lip to stop any noises that could come out because you would likely notice if he groaned. after a couple of minutes of his hands being still he starts moving, making small patterns on your skin and stroking you. his hand gets higher, reaching the hem of his shirt before stopping and leaving his hand there.

as the film ends you become more aware of where gojo's hand is resting but you choose not to say anything. you're flustered but you think he's put his hand there absentmindedly while watching the film so you keep quiet.

"did you enjoy the film princess?"

you smile brightly at him and respond, "i did! did you?"

satoru starts making patterns on your skin lightly again. tapping his finger on his chin with his other hand like he's thinking and making a noise, "hmmm i did enjoy it although i was distracted through most of it."

that catches your attention wondering what it was that he was focused on instead. "oh, what was it?"

he smirks, "it's hard to pay attention to anything other than how pretty you look right now."

satoru had called you a pretty lady earlier tonight but this feels more personal, your brain refusing to work and it's exhilarating for him to see it happen.

he cups your cheek in his hand so you're making direct eye contact with each other, he doesn't want to look away from him. "do you want this sweetheart?"

your heart is pounding in your chest like a hummingbirds wings and you worry that satoru can hear it, swallowing before replying, "w-what do you mean?"

he leans closer to you and feel like your body is buzzing, tiny zaps of electricity shooting through your veins at his proximity to you, "do you want me?"

"i-i," you're stuttering over your words and nothing makes sense. do you want him? want him to do what?

"sweetheart do you want me?" he reiterates putting more emphasis on the 'want' and slivering his hand up further along your thigh, inching under your, his, shirt. you wait with bated breath, wondering if he'll go further, wondering if he'll say more.

"satoru are you... are you coming onto me?" you're quiet when you ask, you're unsure, you worry that you're wrong and gojo can't help but laugh.

"obviously i'm coming onto you. i thought that was pretty clear."

"you are?" you're still quiet.

"yeah," he smirks at you however your eyes drift away from him feeling shy but gojo's not having that, he pats your cheek before saying, "look at me princess." you do what he says and make eye contact with him again, "there she is, "he smiles at you and kisses your nose making your whole body heat up, your lips part open in shock and he smirks.

"i'm going to ask again, do you want this?" lowering his voice he continues speaking, "because i want this."

'he wants this. he wants me... but do i want him? everyone wants him. do i want him? if we do this it might never be the same again, we might stop being friends... satoru is really attractive, he's hot, he can get anyone he wants but will this mess everything up... i don't know.'

he can see those unnecessary cogs again, how silly, how useless.

he doesn't wait for you to answer, he's given you time and instead of answering you're thinking, overthinking, not being a good girl at all. instead of waiting any longer he closes the space between you two and slots his mouth against yours, licking your lips in a silent request to open your mouth, you oblige his request without any more thought and just simply do what feels right, do what feels good, and kissing satoru feelings good.

his lips are soft, probably softer than yours but you can't tell with them against each other. imaging the kiss you'd think gojo would kiss someone slowly, languidly. you imagine he wouldn't put a lot of effort or passion in the kiss but it would still be the best kiss anyone has ever had. you never thought he'd be a passionate kisser. you know from rumours that his relationships don't last long, it seems to you that he's never been invested in any of them so what's the point in kissing someone like you can't get enough of them when he's going to move on to the next person in a week, so what's the point of kissing passionately but right now that theory is blown out the window. his movement is rushed, it's hungry, it's unexpected. you didn't think he'd be so greedy. his skilled tongue is against yours and he's completely dominating the kiss. satoru's not even stopping for air and he's not letting you either, he's been waiting for this for so long now and a stupid reason like needing to breathe isn't going to stop him.

satoru's leaving wet kisses down your jaw and pulse point anywhere that's visible he's kissing. leaving little nips in his wake and trying to find a good space for him to start leaving marks and hickeys so everyone will know you're his.

the hand that was holding onto your thigh squeezes gently and a shiver runs down his spine because you feel so soft. he pushes you down on the sofa and he's above you looking down, knocking your thighs open and kneeling between them. he's swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight. you get nervous when you look at him, the way he looks at you tenderly with those vibrant blue eyes, that unbeknownst to you hold so much love for you.

you're gasping at every new sensation gojo's giving you, never having felt like this before as his continues his path up your thigh moving the shirt up along with it and now he's finally touching your plush body he thinks he may be in heaven with a gorgeous goddess with him and the more he moves the shirt up the more he thinks so. both of his hands moving to your hips and pressing his fingers into your skin watching them spill over and it's making him dizzy. never has he felt anyone with your body before and it's driving him crazy. he wants more, he needs more.

satoru brushes his knuckles over your underwear making you whine and he smirks, "feel good princess?"

"uh huh," you reply nodding your head up and down rapidly, head fuzzy and wanting more, wanting him.

"yeah?" he asks smugly. " ' course you do." he taps your hips just above the line of your underwear, "lift up for me sweetheart." you move up so he can pull down your underwear and he pockets them in his jeans saving them for later. he doesn't waste anytime as he unzips his jeans and takes them off, pulling his shirt off after, the only reason of the shirt being off is that he wants you to see how hot he looks and to check him out, he knows he looks good and he wants you to know it too.

he presses two fingers into you and you moan. "i'm going to prepare you sweetheart." it wasn't a question but you nod your head anyway. his slender fingers are longer than yours, reaching placing you can't, he's leisurely taking his time, watching as you squirm, eyes starting to glaze over.

only after four minutes and he's had enough of this leisurely pace fingering though, he just has to have his dick inside you now. he would promise to go slow but he knows he can't promise that. you don't see his dick before he goes into you, if you did you'd say something but instead you feel it. more girth than most and nine inches long thus as he starts to thrust into you you let out a moan that soon fades into a silent scream.

with each inch you feel that it must be it but then there's more, he knows he should've spent more time getting you ready for him but the idea of waiting even a minute longer was torture.

at the same time of being fully inside you, you wince, and satoru places a chaste kiss on your lips. there's a fleeting thought as you wince about how you think his cock has broken you, so far he's in your guts. he keeps his hold on you as he thrusts shallowly a few times testing the waters and playfully pinching your nipple to see your reaction.

you try to speak but the words get caught in your throat and it doesn't take long for gojo to speed up, not even a minute and he's already thrusting hard and fast into you, a creamy white ring already forming at the base of his cock. his pace doesn't falter, in fact it gets more rough as satoru sees your face. it's hard for you to even think, you've never been this full before, you're eyes are glazed over and you've got your mouth open drooling a bit, he thinks you look so adorably dumb. "look at you princess you look so dumb right now, so stupid. you don't even have one thought in your head do you? it's so fucking hot. not thinking or worrying, all that matters is this, you don't need to think i'll do it for you."

satoru lifts up one of your thighs and puts it on his shoulder, at the new position it feels like he's reaching even deeper. you whine so loud that people walking outside would hear. "my cock's making you lose braincells huh?" he grins, tapping your cheek gently to get your attention. you look up at him in a daze and he sniggers. "not a thought behind those eyes."

at the new angle you try to grab hold of his arm but struggle to focus losing grip straight away, squealing, "ah it feels s' good 'toru!"

satoru is pleased that you've spoken something, that you've been able to form an legible sentence, he's even more pleased at how good you sound squealing, knowing that he's the one who's made you sound like that. however more than all of that he's overjoyed that you called him 'toru' it sounds so perfect from your mouth.

"i know, i know, you're so good for me princess, such a good girl." he keeps slamming into you at a brutal pace and he wants you to come undone around him soon before he cums. "hear that princess, your pussy is so wet and sticky for me. she knows what she wants huh," he grins and starts pinching your nipples, watching as your eyes roll back.

he's fucking you so rough that your body is moving up and down on the sofa, jiggling with each thrusts, and as he watches your body bounce he gets closer and closer. he normally lasts so much longer but he can't help it with you, it's impossible for him to keep his regular time when your warm wet walls are wrapping around his cock, when he's inside you.

satoru can't wait any longer removing his hand from your nipple and bringing it to your clit, rubbing harshly as you shriek from the sudden extra stimulation, as you get tighter around him he sucks his teeth so close to cumming, "are you going to cum for me sweetheart?"

you don't say anything, you don't have time to answer him because instead the coil in the stomach that has been winding up for the last half an hour snaps, with the added help of gojo touching your clit, you arch your back, and your eyesight goes fuzzy seeing white dots. you've never had such an intense orgasm before, it drowned out noise and made everything hard to hear, you didn't even know cumming could do that. everyone was right about sex with satoru.

feeling you spasm around him was even for him to finish as well, a few more thrusts into you and he lost it cumming too. if he was a better man he would've pulled out but satoru knew that he would never pull out when it comes to you. he's seen birth control in your bathroom before and when he saw it he frowned, he hopes that you missed it today. either way he's making sure to bury himself in you as deep as he can get hoping that even if you did take birth control today it won't be good enough to stop his intention- his deep desire to breed you. thoughts racing through his head, 'silly girls don't need to go to university they should just stay at home. i've got more than enough money to look after her. she'd look so good, her body even softer than it already is. she'd make such a good mama.' as he comes his body goes taut and he groans loudly saying your name and stilling.

you're both catching your breathe, not speaking for a minute, recovering for the most mindblowing sex both of you have ever had.

he wants to stay where he is but he knows he can't. when he moves you whimper, feeling empty all of a sudden, and it makes his ego rise, "sorry princess, i'm going to get you a towel okay." satoru kisses your forehead before rising and getting a towel from the bathroom, coming back and kneeling, swiping the towel gently over your inner thighs and pussy. kissing your hip and looking back at you, "are you okay?"

you're breathless as you reply, "yeah."

satoru smirks, "that's good."

you cover your face with your hands, timid with the way gojo's focused on you. putting the towel down he holds onto your hands and removes them from your face so he can see you again, smiling at you sweetly and kissing your forehead again.

"satoru what's going to happen now?" you're almost silent, if he wasn't so laser focused on every movement and thing you do he might not have heard.

"we could watch another film but it's getting late."

"no... i mean with us..."

satoru furrows his eyebrows, not understanding the question. "us?"

"yeah i-i mean are we s-still friends?"

"friends?" he looks at you like you've grown an extra head and your stomach sinks, if you knew this would've been the outcome you would've done something differently.

you don't want to lose gojo, you really don't want to lose gojo. you don't want to cry in front of him, you don't want it to get misconstrued and him to think that you're trying to manipulate him or change his mind but the idea of not having satoru in your life is heartbreaking. wait... heartbreaking? however the tears still come and the words get lodged in your throat. you manage to get some words out but it's barely audible with how erratic your breathing is becoming and how you keep swallowing every five seconds. "can i do anything to make us be friends again? i don't want to lose you." you're sniffling and you know you sound needy and probably desperate too but that's not your main focus right now.

"lose me?" he squints and gently wipes the tears from your face. "why would you lose me?" he cups you cheek, "princess how do you feel about me?"

your mouth parts open, you're glad that he's suggesting that you're not going to lose him but that's completely overshadowed with the question he's asked. you stay silent, not moving a muscle, how do you feel about him?

'satoru's my friend, my best friend! so... i feel that he's my friend? did i feel this way about my other friends? i lost my other friends and it was awful, i hated it but if i lost satoru... i think it would be worse than awful. maybe soul crushing is accurate... heartbreaking sounds more accurate. can someone be heartbroken about a friend? can i?'

you can't say anything, you don't know what to say, all your thoughts are muddled and you feel lost. gojo's still cupping your cheek, now stroking it with his thumb. "alright then princess, let me tell you." you don't know how he's going to tell you, you don't even understand yourself. "you don't see me as a friend anymore." he says simply and your eyes widen, and he holds onto your elbow with no force with his other hand to stop you if you try to draw away.

"do you know why i know that princess?" satoru asks you, his voice tethered, borderlining on husky. unsure you shake your head. "because friends don't act like you do. they don't get jealous about the thought of me taking girls out to restaurants, they don't check me out when they think i'm not looking. friends don't make a photo of us together as their lockscreen and wallpaper-"

at that you interrupt him, "you have me on your lockscreen too!" but he puts his fingers to your lips to gesture for you to keep quiet.

"not finished yet sweetheart. friends don't send each other good morning texts as soon as they wake up and they don't memorise my order at cafés we go to. friends don't stare at my lips and compliment my eyes all the time. friends don't look at me longingly. friends don't go to romantic restaurants alone together."

he pauses watching with rapt attention as you look down at your lap, he doesn't make you look up at him this time and waits for your response. when you decide to look back at him you calm your breathing as much as you can, "b-but you do those things too satoru..."

satoru grins brightly, "yeah i do, sooo... that would mean what?" he presses you to answer him.

"do you- do you- am i more than a friend to you satoru?"

"bingo!"

you feel like you're dreaming, nothing feels real. you could never of guessed that gojo feels that way or that you're his type. "is that why we had sex?"

satoru chuckles, not answering but instead replying, "you're so cute!" it makes your face heat up. "do you want me to tell you a secret?" you're nervous and dubious but you nod your head softly. gojo moves even closer than you, "you're more than just my friend princess," he leans closer to your ear and whispers "i love you."

you blink at him- once, twice, three times. you understand now that gojo is more than a friend to you and you recognise it's been this way for a very long time but through all his speech you didn't consider he felt the same. maybe that's why you didn't understand your own feelings, because if gojo acts the same as you do and calls you his friend you never questioned about if you really felt friendship towards him.

how long as satoru known all this and has kept you in the dark? what if he choose not to ever tell you? would you end up in a relationship with someone else only to break their heart when you finally realise that you're in love with satoru. your mouth is dry and you lick your lips swallowing to wet them, your voice still sounds a little hoarse though as you say, "why didn't you tell me?"

"because you'll understand and accept your own feelings and mine. i wanted to tell you but i know you, i knew that you would just deny it and ignore your feelings and it could result in something changing with us and that was the last thing i wanted sweetheart, it would kill me but i knew that it was time. i knew that you'd accept both of our feelings," he asserts and he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat.

you know what he's saying is true but you can't help but pout. "how do you know me better than myself satoru?"

satoru chuckles. well he does spend a great deal of his time loving everything you do...

"plus i couldn't keep it in any longer princess, i swear i was going mad. i would probably have folded soon and tell you," he whines and you giggle.

you take a deep breath and look at him straight in the eye, your whole body feeling fuzzy, "satoru i love you."

'yeah i know.'

gojo grins and wipes his forehead dramatically, "thank god." he holds onto the nape of your neck and pulls you to his lips so he can kiss you hungrily, as he pulls away he asks "do you still want to sleep in the spare room tonight? my room is more comfortable... and there may be some boxes on the bed that i haven't moved."

your eyes widen, "say you're joking 'toru!"

he throws his hands up and grins "well..."

you don't stay mad at him long, you've both confessed your love to each other it's not like you can be annoyed at him, you grin back, "i can't believe you."

"i swear it wasn't planned just a happy coincidence... that i chose not to tell you about... but it's okay because we can just use that room for any of your extra stuff when you move in."

you open your mouth wide in disbelief, "i cannot believe you satoru!"

"aw come on you know you love me!" he chuckles and you glare at him before be pokes your cheek and you start laughing too.

[kashverse]

gojo calls you every name but your actual name—sweetheart, baby, pookie bear, sometimes even "oi, babe"—but never your actual name. so when he finally did, when he looked at you dead in the eyes and said it, your whole body stiffened. "are you okay?" you asked immediately, squinting at him like he was on his deathbed. "blink twice if you need help." you even reached out to check his forehead for a fever, because surely, this was a medical emergency. gojo just blinked at you, utterly confused, before doubling over in laughter. "you seriously think i'm unwell just 'cause i said your name? that's so messed up—i love it."

nanami calls you every name but your actual name—dear, love, sometimes just a heavy sigh paired with a side glance. so when he actually did, when his voice dropped and he spoke your name with the weight of a thousand bricks, you felt your stomach sink. "is this a breakup?" you blurted out before he could even continue. nanami blinked at you, his brow twitching. "what?" you crossed your arms. "you're using my actual name," you pointed out. "is this a professional resignation from this relationship?" nanami exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "no. i was just asking if you wanted coffee." but the damage was done. you spent the rest of the day side-eyeing him, just in case.

geto calls you every name but your actual name—angel, sunshine, princess, even "chipmunk" when you get on his nerves. so when he finally did, when he said your name with a certain weight, you panicked. "oh my god," you gasped. "you found out, didn't you?"

"found out what?" his eyes narrowed. "the shampoo," you admitted, guilt weighing heavy on your conscience. "i've been using your fancy shampoo. that’s why you keep running out so fast." geto just stared at you, eyes unreadable. then, very slowly, he leaned back, crossed his arms, and nodded. "that explains a lot."

"are you mad?"

"no. just disappointed." ouch.

toji calls you every name but your actual name—doll, sweetheart, brat, depending on his mood. so when he actually did, when he gritted out your name over the phone in the middle of the night, your stomach dropped. "oh my god," you whispered. "are you dying?"

"what?"

"you're out on a job, aren't you? is this a last words kind of call? should i be preparing for the worst?" toji groaned, the sound of gunfire faint in the background. "jesus. i just needed you to grab my extra ammo from the closet."

"oh."

"...but now that you mention it, maybe bring a first aid kit too."

choso calls you every name but your actual name—babe, honey, sometimes just a hum of acknowledgment. so when he actually did, when he uttered your name so carefully, you felt your chest tighten. "you're friendzoning me," you whispered, horror-stricken. "this is the end." choso blinked, his face scrunching up in genuine confusion. "what? no. i was just—"

"it's okay," you sniffed. "you wanted to let me down easy, huh? didn't want to go for the direct breakup."

"babe, i was literally just asking if you wanted extra sauce on your food." but it was too late. you had already started mourning your relationship.

sukuna calls you every name but your actual name—dove, brat, little one, sometimes even "human" when he's particularly irritated. so when he finally did, when his voice wrapped around your name with sharp precision, your survival instincts kicked in immediately. "listen, listen, i didn't do anything," you pleaded, hands raised. "whatever it is, it wasn't me. i swear. please don't kill me." sukuna just stared at you, unimpressed. "i was literally just calling you."

"yeah, exactly," you said, eyes darting for possible escape routes. "why would you use my actual name unless i'm in serious danger? is this a death sentence? am i about to be vaporized?" sukuna rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. "you're so dramatic."

"says the one who tears people apart for fun!"

[the-fab-fox]

This is, obviously, the best place to do it.

No one can refute against the lies we tell ourselves if they never leave our thoughts.

(I'm mainly coming from a negative self talk frame of mind, but obviously can be any lie we tell ourselves.)

Also, in regards to how this might look in writing.

Start by figuring out how big the lie you're using weighs in your mind, against your own values. Then consider your character and compare them to you. Do that until you have an idea of where there values lie compared to yours. Okay. Now you've shifted to the character frame of mind rather than your own.

The reason you want to do this. If you aren't a mean, or dishonest, or self sacrificing, etc kind of person...

How do you expect to write it believably? Convincingly?

You have to weigh your values, compare them to theirs, so you can find the baseline of where they stand as far as manipulation and exploitation and dishonesty. From there other factors, such as friendships, closeness of those friendships, partners, closest of those partners, etc etc etc... those you bring up one at a time and consider how the baseline moves for each person integral to the plot. Do they become more or less honest with their significant other or queer platonic partner? Do they hide everything from their parents or is it an open supportive relationship?

At the same time consider the same question for this character as well as how they would react to knowing the big bad about the character, in this case they are a liar. Habitual.

Is the prospective partner/qpr cool with that? Are they similar? If they aren't, how can you navigate a compromise that would keep them from having to break up at some point? Or is it better they break up. How does that look.

But by doing this you can more efficiently incorporate these things into your writing and it's done in a realistic manner that just really 😘👌. And this works for any kind of flaw.

By doing this you keep yourself from falling into the dual traps of picking a flaw because it's tried and true and not being able to really sell the lies as anything more than surface level. Nuance is key.

Hope this makes sense. And if y'all ever need help or some insight specific to your plot in regards to this topic specifically, feel free to reach out.

Sorry op

I just had some kinda writing experience tips/advice. Thanks for letting me tag along. Hope you're well.

i love when characters lie to themselves in the complete privacy of their own minds

[skipper1331]

Little things // Alexia Putellas

headcannons

The little things Alexia and you do while being absolutely in love with one another

car and driving around

Alexia always opens the door for you

She‘s the driver while you‘re the passenger princess

She insists on hearing your playlist, even though you both have a shared playlist (she knows you love your playlist)

you kiss her temple/ cheek at every red light

She’s getting you some flowers in the time you‘re at your appointment (she insists on driving you everywhere)

having a water bottle and snacks in the car, just in case

in the kitchen

Alexia helping you the best she can but ends up admiring you from the bar stool or hugging you from behind as she whispers compliments in your ear

when it’s her turn with cooking, she only cooks things you love

Also she lets you try everything before serving and vice versa

"The chef deserves a kiss now "

She makes sure the table is set perfectly and the atmosphere is tranquil

Dinning with you is very important to her, so she makes sure not to mention work or anything that causes stress, she likes to keep the calm and lovely atmosphere

with her family

having a hand on your thigh under table, also drawing patterns on the back of your hand when you intertwine your fingers

one time, you dropped your fork, so within seconds her hand was covering the corner of the table, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself while picking up the cutlery

She loves the bond you have with her family, even though the mocking and teasing of you and Alba can be a pain in the ass.

Kisses always make up for it

"I‘m going to marry her" she tells her mother

Her family already knows because they can see it in her eyes when she looks at you

And they also know you‘ll say yes because they see the look in your eyes when you look at Alexia

You two are the perfect match

Her mother loves you

Her sister does too

at night

You wear her clothes, she loves the sight

both of you sleep better when you‘re with/next to each other

Alexia always has an arm around you, in the need of protecting you

you cuddle into her, legs tangled together, arms around each other

sometimes she‘s the big spoon and sometimes you are, it depends on the mood

when she can’t sleep, you‘ll scratch her back and she‘s in a slumber in an instant

During off days you‘ll stay up till the early hours, just talking, giggling, stating random facts or debating the newest gossip

soft snores filling the room

Alexia often wakes up before you, though she doesn’t make any signs of leaving the bed before you‘re up

If she has to get up though, she‘ll kiss your forehead and promise to be back soon and wishing you a good day

football

you‘re not a professional footballer (you had to google the rules after Alexia had told you she’s a pro) though she likes to think you are as she puts you in goal when the two of you are training together

'training together' - she begs you to join her training routines, ends up convincing you with kisses

It‘s enough to see her pout

you can’t resist her pout

-

watching random football matches at home

Alexia puts a jersey on the bed before each home game, so you have something to wear for the stadium

'Alexia' and '11' on your back making her heart flutter

Your heart bursts with pride every time you see her walking out of the tunnel

Cheering for her

always in the stadium at home games and at important away games (champions league final, etc)

you‘re her biggest supporter

Alexia makes sure football and you are balanced - she never puts football above you but she‘s still ambitious and always gives 101% to be the best

You‘re always impressed by Alexia, her talent is phenomenal

Alexia enjoys impressing you

-

at first Alexia used to shut you out after a lost match

over time she learns to let her guard down

you make her feel loved and appreciated

She can let her walls down around you and likes to think that it‘s okay to be vulnerable sometimes (you assure her that it always is)

after won matches only happy things happen; nice dates, kisses, relaxed evening, etc

the achievement jar

One evening, after Alexia had scored two goals and an assist, you brought up the idea

It‘s been in the back of your mind since awhile but only now the mini marble footballs had arrived

won game? One marble in the jar

Alexia scored a goal? one marble

Alexia scored two goals? two marbles

Alexia assisted a goal ? one marble

won trophy? three marbles in the jar

and so on

when the jar‘s filled Alexia gets a big big surprise. Such as special days with massages, literally anything to show her how proud you were and how much she deserved

Yes, you still had date nights which were also special but the achievement-appreciation-days were just a tiny bit more special

Alexia loves it

So do you

your job

Alexia supports you on every step of the way to your dream job

After a long and exhausting day, Alexia hugs you, runs you a bath, anything that makes you feel relaxed and appreciated

She‘s your date to any work event (vice versa)

Alexia has all of your (important) meetings and appointments in her calendar

If you have to study, Alexia makes sure not to bother/distract you yet also always making sure that you stay hydrated and take some breaks

future

Both of you have your future planned together

Alexia dreams of marrying you, she has the ring hidden in her football drawer because she knows you‘d never look there

You talked about getting a dog, both of you really liking the thought. You just couldn’t agree on which breed (yet)

private proposal

wedding just like you dreamt of as a kid

happy tears spilling out of your eyes as you see each other for the first time

best day of your life

amazing honeymoon

Both of you never taking of your rings

Alexia taping it for her matches

her new celebration is to kiss her ring after scoring

kids, if you want them

The future bright and welcoming as you continue to share the perfect marriage

you‘ll never stop loving each other

[glossykissies]

clark and his gf who’s all sad because her friends keep ditching her and he’s trying to make her feel better.

love you so much on both blogs!

i like this as bsf!clark who’s in love with you so he hangs out with you and all your girl friends and is basically apart of your group — just so he can be near to you.

you’d planned a girls night, and clark was fine with that because… well, he had stuff to do around the barn anyway. you’d been excitedly rambling about it all week — buying facemasks, ordering pizza and pulling out the best girly romcom dvds to ensure a perfect night… until they all cancelled.

you were a sweet, sensitive soul who didn’t take well to disappointment, so clark’s heart sank when the phone rang, your best friend picking up only to be met with your snivels.

“look, hey, don’t cry — i’ll come over, okay?” he coo’s, his natural instinct being to coddle you and just hope it didn’t come off as patronising. you usually seemed to like it.

“what— what about the barn? ‘said you were busy with it tonight—”

“ah, the barn can wait.” he blows it off. you can’t see him but you know he waved his hand as he said it as if to convince you even more of its unimportance. “my old man’ll understand. he thinks you’re a total angel. infact i think he’d be more mad at me if i didn’t go to see you.”

you sniff, twiddling pathetically with the phones curly wire. “well… if you’re sure…”

“completely sure. i’ll be over there as fast as i can.”

clark was a little too excited, having to convince himself not to use his super speed.

he didn’t expect you to be so upset however, ending up beside you on the couch with a hand on your back as you cried. he knew it would be rude to ask if your emotions had anything to do with your menstruation cycle, he wanted to slap himself for even thinking of it — but he wondered if that had a part to play.

“i just feel like i always put in effort with people but there’s always something more important.” you rant, swiping beneath your eyes in frustration. clark shuffles closer, tentatively placing a hand on your back.

“mhm?” he urges you on in a gentle tone, hoping to ease you into a more relaxed mood.

“i was excited.” you pout, turning to face him — seeming to be at the end of your meltdown. he presses his lips together with a sympathetic smile.

“yeah, i figured. i mean, look at all this effort you went through setting this up.” clark validates you, lifting a hand to gesture to the way you’d decorated the living room with snacks and movie options, blankets strewn across the couch creating a comfortable atmosphere. “i suppose we’ll have to enjoy it just the two of us.” he grins, mindful of his tone — not wanting to seem like he wanted to take advantage of this situation, even if he secretly did.

“you’ll even do facemasks with me?” you let a smile slip, peering up at him through wet eyelashes. he grimaces like he’s pretending to think about it as you giggle, now being the one to shuffle closer to him.

“you gonna put cucumbers on my eyes?”

“oh yes, the full spa experience.” you tease, and clark can’t help but reach up and brush the final tear off your cheek with a fond smile. you lean happily into his hand, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i’m lookin’ forward to it.”

clark effortlessly takes your mind off things, a natural at distracting you with dumb dad jokes, debating over pizza toppings and lastly making silly observations about the rom-com you’d landed on.

you’re sleepy — clark had noticed you always got sleepy after eating a big meal, and after tearing through copious amounts of pizza you’d allowed yourself to lay on his chest, tired eyes glued to the screen as he strokes your back, afraid to even breathe wrong incase you come to your senses and crawl off him.

you couldn’t help it, he was just so big and warm — it would be a waste for him to take up all that space and for you not to use it. you figured you were close enough to cuddle anyway, thigh cocked up in a half straddle on his lap, sleepily giggling at a point he made.

“i just don’t get why the main love interest is being played by a forty year old.” he shrugs and you chortle harder against him.

“y’so warm.” you muse out of nowhere, drunk on tiredness. it had to be nearing 2am at this point; and you’d totally let your guard down. you feel his heart skip a beat against your ear.

“uh— really? oh, well… thanks. i think?”

“s’a good thing clarkie.” you shift until you’re looking up at him, faces inches away, body to body. clark licks his lips, brows furrowed slightly as tries (and fails) not to glance at your mouth. “thank you for hanging out with me.”

“y—eah.” he rasps, voice breaking at the low volume. he clears his throat, and you take an extra second longer to look at him before dropping your head back down, body getting heavier over the minutes that pass as you slowly succumb to sleep. clark stays awake, unable to sleep a wink, too consumed by the feeling of you on top of him.

[submattenthusiast]

listen loser!virgin!matt

the sexually submissive sounds that originated from matt were so satisfying to hear especially knowing that you were the cause of them. though it was his hand stroking his cock in the audio you received, you were the reason he was whimpering so pathetically. you loved every single thing about it, and you wanted to make sure he enjoyed it just as much as you did. a sinister idea came to mind when you were mindlessly scrolling through your messages, replying to the unanswered texts from earlier in the day to literal weeks ago. knowing he would do just about anything when he wanted to cum, you knew it would work out with little to no trouble. now you just needed to get him there.

matt nearly knocked down the door with how he rushed in, the wood door swinging open and quick footsteps tapping against the floor. as he walked in he threw his jacket, backpack ,and keys all on the desk in the corner. the loud noises were a clear attention grabber, and you fell right into the trap. "what's your deal?" you speak, interrupting whatever he had going on. your words didn't seem to register in his mind as he continued to undress and get more comfortable now that he was home. not even turning his head to where your voice echoed from.

his mini tantrum was seemingly over with, seeing as he stopped fidgeting and throwing things around. he calmly walked over to your side of the bed. standing silently and broodingly over you he sighed, the air he blew out tickling you slightly. his eyes burned holes into the side of your face until you looked at him. with the new contact he reached out for your free hand to place it on his crotch. a airy sigh left his lips as he whimpered out a please.

the material of his jeans felt quite uncomfortable under your hands as you felt him up, feeling said boner he was begging for help about. his mouth dropped open at the touch, feeling relief that he couldn't provide for himself. you fondled with him until he started to enjoy it a little too much, stopping to start excuting your plan. "take your pants and boxers off and sit down" you instruct.

with quickness matt was only left in the grey t-shirt, pants and boxers pooling at his ankles. the cold air began hit him as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his place on the bed. your arm wrapped around his shoulder to pull him into your side, using that same hand you held it out in front of his mouth so he could spit. silently he gave you enough to coat his cock. "good boy" you praise, wrapping your fingers around him. a soft moan blessed your ears in return. before he became foggy brain he muttered out a thank you and tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

strategically you built up a pace, hands moving at an angle that would get him to cum quickly. the makeshift lube of spit helped your fist move faster and to add onto the rushed movements you whispered endless amounts of praise to him. telling him how much of a good boy he was and how good he was being, and how you were glad he came to you for help. his pretty sounds filled your ears once again, the whimpers that came from his mouth when you rubbed over his tip and the moans when you stroked his cock faster. drips of drool began to pile up at the corner of his lips from his mouth being constantly ajar. "i'm close mommy i'm sorry" he half warns half apologizes. you smirk at this, knowing he must've really been worked up to be this close already, and knowing that you helped him get there.

"that's okay baby i got you' you coo, slowing your hand down but not completely removing it. sensing the change in pace, matt untucked his head and looked to you for an answer. "why'd you slow down?? please please just let me cum i can do it again, but i just need it now" he rambled, hand covering yours to speed you up. chuckling at his eagerness you purr, "you're still gonna cum alright, mommy just wants to try something". hesitantly he nodded and moved to release you from his grip. you stop him immediately, moving his veiny hand back on his needy cock.

his eyes followed yours as you reached for your phone, silently wondering what you were doing. after finding the audio and pressing play you rested the device on your thigh. a pink blush rose on his cheeks as he realized what he was listening to. his hand froze and his head found it's way to your neck again, embarassment flooding his body. a pained whine left his lips as he tried to block out the sounds. "you sound so pretty sweetheart" you tease. shaking his head he whines more "nooo m embarrassed now".

"oh you are?, so you don't want to cum anymore?" you ask, going to pause the audio. his nose brushed against your neck as he shook his head. getting desperate now, he started to jerk himself off. you smile down at him as he touches himself pathetically to his own whimpering audio. "please let me cum i'm sorry" he pauses, keeping eye contact with you. "that's a good boy, keep going hm" you speak, caressing him softly.

as the audio went on it ironically matched up with his state now, precum was oozing from his tip and soft whimpers of mama escaped his lips as he touched. the squelches from the clear substance and the spit added onto the multiple sounds in the room as his hand moved faster. sweat began to drip onto his shirt and his body twitched as he neared his orgasm. his blue eyes disappeared from your vision quickly, his eyes squeezing shut, allowing him to focus on his pleasure. "really close a-ah please mommy" he begged.

identical moans left your phone and his mouth as he gave a strong last few strokes, begging for your hand and to cum at the same time. "can't hold it please" he whined, gripping his cock to hold as best as he could. "look at me" you command. you wanted to see him fall apart, see the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head when he reached his peak. with no hesitation he opened them and held the best eye contact he could. "there he is, such a pretty boy".

the blush on his cheeks increased at the compliment, making his cheeks and cock the same colour. "i am for you i am" he adds on. "then cum for me pretty, make a big mess like you did before". the praise and the sultriness of your words sent him tumbling over the edge. one big stroke had him spurting out white. higher pitched moans came deep from inside him as the liquid coated his hands, thighs and part of his shirt. it was a big one, so big that a drop was on your phone, pausing the audio.

coming down from his high, he heaves out a heavy breath. you comfort him as he curls into you. the room was oddly silent, looking at your leg you realize what sound was missing. jokingly you show matt, "the audio didn't finish baby, i guess we gotta do it again"

[chrislikesgorillaz]

This makes me so so sad and there's tears welling up in my eyes rn and I'm so scared for my future and I call myself progressive and a punk but I could easily end up that was myself I have mobility issues and use canes and shit and am disabled and going off the way I'm treated by my family and their unwillingness to even help me with something like homework let alone how to be a functional adult and bc of my mental health I'm so scared I won't be able to hold or even get a well paying job and I've lived in poverty for so long my family only got out of that by joining the military and I'm so terrified to end up on the streets with nothing and no one and that's all my mom told me as a kid that I'm too stupid and stubborn to do anything to take care of myself so I'll end up some raggedy man on the street no one will even pay attention to and I'm so scared for every one living like this going theuough this and it's so sad and terrible and I just don't understand why it has to be this way and why no one cares for these people and why no one's helping and I'm just so frustrated and angry and sad and scared and I hope that person is okay

Ugggh isk I've had a horrible week idk who's even gonna see this lol but whatever I just needed ot get my feelings out somewhere

self proclaimed schizoposter nervously typing '911' into their phone and hovering their thumb above the 'call' key as they hawkishly watch a disheveled guy at a bus stop make repetitive movements and ramble to himself

[alexsnerdycorner]

Animalistic (Logan X Reader smut)

Title: Animalistic

Word Count: 2079

Warning: Smut, slight exhibitionism (if you squint), kitchen sex, oral (f and m receiving), PIV sex, multiple orgasm (f)

Fandom: X-Men/X-Men Movies

Pairing: Logan X Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature, Explicit

Request: I need someone to write a Logan Howlett x reader where reader can communicate with animals and she finds out she can also hear logan’s thoughts (bc that man IS an animal lets be real) at first she doesn’t realize who’s /what’s thoughts she is hearing but gets closer with logan and realizes it’s him when he starts thinking about her

Tags: @grapejollyrancher @pinkiemme

Summary: You’re a mutant who can communicate with animals. Lately you thought you’ve been going crazy, getting images and feelings when there were no animals around. One night you wake from a weird nightmare and find Logan in the kitchen. You soon discover that the nightmare was Logan’s and that you’re not going crazy, but that you can communicate telepathically with him. Smut ensues.   

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. I’ve had lots to do with work and personal life. I also got sick five times since September. I also made it so the reader can see his thoughts more than hear them – you’ll see how it works out.

Work:

From a young age you could communicate with animals. You got feelings and flashes of images from them. You discovered it first with your friend’s dog. Whenever you were over there you felt happiness radiating off of him and glimpses into his mind. When the dog was hungry you would get images of kibble and feelings of hunger. You would always be the first to know when the dog needed to go outside and use the bathroom.

When you were a young adult your parents discovered your abilities and sent you to live at the Xavier institute. You loved it there. Mostly because it was quiet and there was very little animal activity. You studied there for a little while and then became an animal sciences teacher.

When a man named Logan and a girl named Rogue came to the institute things began to get more complicated. You would feel angry, agitated, or afraid for no apparent reason. You would get images – no memories that weren’t your own. You thought you were going crazy. You were too scared to even tell the Professor.

One night you woke after a terrible nightmare. Too afraid to go back to sleep, you trudged down to the kitchen and found Logan there.

“Hey, Y/N” He said, “What are you doing up? It’s almost midnight.”

“I could ask you the same thing, Logan” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You suddenly felt parched as if you hadn’t drunk anything all day.

“Touche” Logan opened the fridge. He grabbed a soda out, opened it and chugged the contents. Your feelings of thirst were suddenly gone. Weird.

“I had a nightmare and I’m afraid to go back to sleep,” You finally admit to your friend.

Logan let out a mirthless laugh, “You and me both, bub. Wanna talk about it?”

“I…I don’t want to sound crazy,” you said. Pulling at the hem of your nightgown. Logan looked over at you with an unreadable expression. Flashes of male hands sensually roaming a female body went through your mind.

“You could never sound crazy,” Logan said.

“I don’t know about that,” you let go of your nightgown’s hem and crossed your arms across your chest. You looked away from Logan and felt a heat wash over you as you got glimpses of a man kissing a woman’s breasts.

“Try me,” he responded drawing you out of your visions.

“Okay, well, I was in this lab of sorts and my body was hooked up to these wires and tubes and stuff. And I was submerged in water or something and I was in pain. Lots and lots of pain. I looked over to a man, Stryder, I think, and get so angry at him I want to kill him, but I don’t. I don’t know why I don’t. But I pull all the tubes and wires and stuff off my body and start to run but then feel a sharp stinging pain and then I woke up,” You looked back up at Logan whose eyes were wide.

“Stryker. His name was Stryker,” Logan said quietly.

“Yes, how did you…” You trailed off.

“Because that’s my nightmare. My past,” he threw the bottle of soda away.

“What? How… Why?” You stuttered.

“I don’t know, Y/N.” Logan said, “Let’s go to the professor in the morning and see if he knows what is going on.”

“No! I’m not crazy. It was just a coincidence. Must be,” You shrugged.

“I never said you were,” Logan held out a hand to calm you. He licked his lips and you received flashes of a man undressing a woman with a similar nightgown to yours. You felt wetness pool in your panties.

Could it be? No, you thought. It can’t be him.

“Quick, logan, what are you thinking right now,” You spoke up.

“What? I don’t see – ” He began.

“Just tell me.” You interrupted.

“I…Y/N, I don’t see how this is relevant.” His face turned bright red.

“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you.”

“Well, I am talking to you.”

“But you’re thinking of me in a different way than just talking to me, aren’t you Logan? You’re thinking about fucking me, aren’t you.”

“What are you on about, Y/N?” Logan cleared his throat.

“I think I know why I had your nightmare. I can communicate with you like I can with animals, can’t I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan denied it but you knew deep down that it was true.

“Stop lying, please. Ever since you and Rogue arrived several months ago, things have been different for me. I thought I was going crazy and just seeing and feeling things without an explanation.  But it’s been you this whole time, hasn’t it.” You said without taking a breath.

“I suspected a little after we first met. I could feel you in my mind.” Logan sighed, “But it was all just suspicions. I didn’t know for sure, not until just now when you told me about the nightmare.”

“So, what were you just thinking about, Logan?” You stepped towards him while maintaining eye contact.

“Princess, I think you know.” He cleared his throat.

“I do. But I want to hear you say it,” you closed the remaining gap so that he was inches away from you.

“I was thinking how damn fine you look in that fucking nightgown.” He purred, “And I was wondering how you would look without it.”

“Well, there is only one way to find out, isn’t there” you smirked and looked up at him through your heavy eyelids.

In a flash Logan’s mouth was on top of yours, kissing you hungrily.

“My room.” You said between kisses.

“No. Here.” Logan growled while his fingers grazed the hem of your nightgown and his mouth moved to your neck. You let out a moan and your hands roamed his chest over his white t-shirt.

“We’ll get caught, Logan,” you whined.

“If anyone is up past midnight, they deserve to catch a show.”

You would have cared more but the ache you felt for him was too strong. You nudged his lips up to yours and bit onto his bottom lip.

“Oh, look whose got the animalistic tendencies now.” Humor shone in his eyes.

You giggled and went back to kissing him. Logan ran his large hands up your thighs and hooked them onto your nightgown hem. He took the hem and lifted. You complied and he took the nightgown off your body and threw it to the floor. He then moved onto your soaked panties. WHen he saw the pool of wetness in them, he grinned. 

He took some time to look at your naked body. To soak your beauty in. When he had enough of the view he ran his rough hands over your soft breasts, toying with your nipples. He brought his lips down to your breasts and pressed a kiss between the two.

“Ya know, I’ve wanted to do this since I met ya, princess.”

You smirked at him and removed his shirt, “Really? Is there anything else you’ve been wanting to do?”

“Well, yeah, a couple of things, actually. Now that you ask.”

You put your hands on the buckle to his belt and pull it. It releases, “I see. Care to share with the class, Mr. Logan?”

He put his hands over yours and pulled his belt off, tossing it onto his shirt. He popped the button of his jeans and undid the zipper. Then the thought of you sucking a long thick cock came into your head. Logan smiled at you. You returned it and got on your knees. You pulled down his pants and boxers, allowed him to step out of them and then looked up at your daunting task. He was huge. While a little above average length, he was very girthy. Your hand couldn’t fit around him on its own if you tried. You lifted your lips to his cock and gently kissed the tip of it.

”Fuck,”  He let out a gruff moan, “y/n.”

The corners of your mouth turned upwards as you took him into your mouth. You moved your mouth forward and back while you found his eyes locked onto yours. His eyes worshiped you even from this position. Soon you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. Logan pulled back and he slipped out of your mouth. 

“Princess, if you keep it up, I won’t be able to fuck you the way I can smell you need it. Now get up here and kiss me.”

You obeyed. His cock was squished between the two of you. Logan pushed you back into the counter, lifted you up, and sat your bare ass on it. You yelped at the cold granite counter top. Logan stopped in his tracks and looked at you with concern. 

“I’m okay, just cold,” You reassured him.

“Well, let's fix that,” he smirked and knelt down on the floor in front of you. Logan steadied his rough calloused hands on your thighs and bent his head toward your core. You felt a warm wet tongue lick a strip up to your clit. You sighed in pleasure. He worked his tongue and lapped at your clit as he hummed against you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Logan.”

You could feel the scruff of his trim beard tickle the insides of your thighs as he smiled. You ran your hands through his headband tugged gently. He inserted a finger into your pussy and you gasped, not ready for him to do that so quickly. He worked his mouth and his fingers in unison. You squirmed under his touch. Logan added a finger to your pussy and you swore, “fucking hell.”

“You good, princess?” he said into your pussy, making brief eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily, “keep going, Logan, please.”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. He dove back into your core and licked in circles at the bud of your clit. You moaned and tried to squeeze your legs together, but Logan’s head and other hand stopped you from getting too far. You could feel the knot in your core tightening and tightening, it was not that far off from bursting. 

“I’m close, Logan, Really close.”

“I want you to cum on my mouth, princess,” he said gruffly against your core before returning to his pleasurable assault on your clit. 

Your hips involuntarily bucked up and you cried out Logan’s name. Pure bliss radiated throughout your body. Logan returned to his standing position and brought his lips to yours. You could taste your sweet juices on his lips. 

“Are you ready to take my cock, y/n?” 

You nodded, unable to speak yet. That was all Logan needed for him to pull you to the edge of the counter, line himself up to your entrance, and push his way into your soaking core. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he started to buck his hips slowly. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He hit your g-spot once, twice, and three times. You moan his name loudly and scratch your nails down his back. In return he pulled your hair not too gently but not enough to really hurt you.

“y/n,” he growled, “do that again and I might just finish before we’re done” 

You drew him in deeper with your legs. He grunted. Your hands roamed his entire body. His one hand toyed with your boob while the other was a steady constant on your back. 

He shifted you to hit your g-spot again. And you shouted out in excitement. The knot in your sore was tangling again. 

“Logan, I’m close.” You whispered into his ear. 

“Me too, Princess.” He thrust into you to punctuate each word. 

He sped up slightly. The knot came undone and you came on his cock. His moves became erratic. And he was not too far after you to spill his seed inside of you. He stayed inside you for a moment as the two of you hung onto each other and panted. 

When you pulled apart he looked you in your eyes and spoke softly, “come to bed with me, maybe company will stave off the nightmares?”

You nodded, still unable to speak. Slowly, the two of you dressed and went up to his room.

You fell asleep in his arms and slept the night away without any more nightmares.

[cherrysolo]

I knew it, I know you.

yall have asked for a longer fic of this request, so here you go <3 instances where the reader comforts lu because of his back pain.

warnings: a wee bit of smut maybe angst too

you had been dating luigi for a couple of years now, you knew him better than anyone else. you knew all of his behaviours, every time he was frustrated and had a pout on his face, or when he would use his hands to talk during arguments. you could read him like a book, which was handy when he didn’t want to communicate. especially after having a rough time with back pain and surgery complications, you wanted to be the best partner you could be.

for instance, you guys were hiking together in hawaii, and halfway through the hike you could tell the mood completely changed. every couple of steps, lu would kind of stretch his back, or even let out a groan. it was obvious he was struggling, “baby is everything okay?” you questioned quietly, not sure how to approach this. “all good,” giving you a shy smile. you could tell he was in pain, but trying to pull through. you guys have been wanting to do this trail for months but never found time, until today. “why don’t we just go home and rest, it’s getting kind of hot out here anyways,” you suggest trying not to pry. you were already breaking a sweat and luigi was shirtless, so maybe this was a good excuse to leave. you wanted to take care of him but not baby him either. “but we made it this far, why give up now?” he snaps back. “yeah, but you’re in pain, let’s go, if we don’t stop now you’ll regret it later,” you snap right back because you want him to take care of himself, and sometimes that includes rest. “I’ll be fine,” you give him a look, raising your eyebrows. “fine, let’s go, it won’t change anything though,” he sighs grabbing your hand to walk back to the car. “I know you’re pissed at me lu, but you need to take care of yourself. I worry about you,” pleading with him to understand your side. he squeezes your hand, knowing that he does care what you say. “thank you, baby, I know you care, sometimes I do push myself too much,” he leans over to kiss your forehead. you two end up cuddling on the couch for the rest of the evening, sometimes rest is not a bad thing.

another time is when you two are intimate, it can complicate how a night can play out. communication is everything to you guys when you’re together. sometimes you could tell instantly from the way luigi moves or his face twitches that his back is starting to bother him. you always motion for him to lay back and you take charge. straddling him and grinding your hips onto him. “hmmm why don’t I take care of you lu?” you smirk down to him. lowering yourself onto him, he groans out as if it’s a sense of relief. his hands immediately fall onto your hips, gripping onto you as you bounce up and down. “you’re such a good girl, taking care of me like this,” he’d moan out. attacking your neck with kisses, pleasure taking over the room. as you guys both reach your peak, a sense of gratitude fills luigi’s heart. even though you’re showing love (literally) switching up positions or doing things for lu’s comfort makes his heart swell.

the most common thing is showing small gestures of pda. if it’s small back rubs in public, lingering kisses of comfort, or just simple whispers of “are you okay?”. you’d hug lu from behind, and ask him how his back is feeling, if he needed any ibuprofen, or wanted to go home. you were scared of overbearing him, but your affection and worry made him feel loved. he loved the way you always looked out for him even in simple situations. after a long night out, or a workout that didn’t help, you’d give him a massage or cuddle with him to relax. it was just the little gestures that meant the most. you just wanted him to be happy and healthy, without the worry of his back pain.

[worlds-worst-ships]

Do you seriously, actually ship it?

Okay. Lets talk. Because apparently some of you are defending... well... "that" (under the cut)

"He's autistic! It was a stim!"

If you genuinely think that this has ANYTHING to do with autism, you are an objectively stupid person. Like, your brain is so fucking smooth, it puts the surface of freshly tempered glass to shame. You're a barely functional reprobate with subhuman intelligence who has no idea how to form thoughts so you let a 50 year old billionaire who spends too much time on his phone decide your thought process for you.

"He was throwing his heart out to the crowd!"

Now, I don't really play baseball, basketball, netball, or any sport where you throw anything other than sometimes darts, but... is that how you throw? You perfectly extend your arm at that angle? Twice? After spending years posting tweets that very much align with Nazi viewpoints? Do you throw a pitch in baseball and scream SIEG HEIL as the ball hurtles towards your opponent? No. Stop being a fucking idiot. This was deliberate. He did it twice.

"He's autistic! He doesn't know better!"

Please comment if you actually think this so I can personally call you a stupid cunt and block you. We absolutely do know better. Autism and Nazism aren't mutually exclusive.

"You're inhibiting his free speech!"

1st amendment only applies to censorship from government positions of power, which I am not, as should be obvious from the fact that I have no power to censor him. Though I shouldn't have to explain that.

"Well, he's gonna get away with it so stop being so sensitive!"

Yes. He is. But that's not a flex, that's A FUCKING MASSIVE PROBLEM. Call me sensitive if you want, but absolutely every single one of you should be offended by this. Did you pay attention in history class, or were you too tired after a long night of being fucking railed raw and bone dry by propaganda on Twitter? Moron.

"Well, he's rich and you're not, so there!"

Yep. Got me there. He's rich, and I'm not. Yknow, Hitler and a lot of Nazi officers were pretty minted too. So was Epstein, King Leopold, Stalin, Jimmy Saville, every MP currently serving in parliament... but sure, they're great people because they're rich, right?

"You're just a stupid offended libtard!"

Google "The Holocaust".

"Well, you're still using his app!"

His app? You mean the one he bought, then fucking ruined because he has no idea how to run it, right? And you because its basically impossible to find mutuals as a vtuber without it, you knew that, right? "His" app, please, you probably think Ronald McDonald makes your burger when you order McDonalds, you moron.

"If we punish Elon for this, then that's a violation of the first amendment!"

You mean like banning tiktok, removing any and all talk of election rigging, then putting it back up the next day? Or maybe like deleting any criticisms of you and your nazi salutes under your recent tweets despite it blowing up everywhere else? Or does that not count because its something you agree with? Yeah. You've been cucked harder than Sneako and you don't even realize it. Elon and his government buddies are leaving your free speech rights looking like this

Aaaaanyway

I find it well and truly laughable that so many people like Elon will say all this insane shit and do all these fucking heinous things and people will defend them. Like how that gun woman who shit herself says stuff like "I'm not homophobic, I just think gay people are disgusting and that they should die" or that comedian nobody finds funny anymore spends hours whining about trans people but says he's not transphobic.

Lets all be on the same page for once and have the balls to say what we actually think. Elon got so close, but being a spineless edgelord who doesn't have the balls to just say what he thinks out loud is quite the weakness.

[theyrekirby]

Okay because everyone who reads this seems to be stupid lets do some clarification, on AI and data centers. Is AI using more power and water than anything else in the world and singlehandedly ruining the world and the environment? No. Is it using more power than some small countries and within the next 20 years going to account for double digit percentage of the energy and water by the entire world? Yes! AI uses way more power than normal Internet usage infact this article tells us this a single chatGPT question takes 30mL of water the fact that a lot of other things listed are measured in how much is used in 30 minutes/or an hour should be rather telling. Many applications of chatGPT that are not just using it's online prompt but using its various API make more than 1 request a minute (meaning in an hour 1800mL) this comparison now does not seem as favourable especially with everything using AI. If a Google search previously used 0.3 watt-hours it now uses 3 watt-hours, this is a lot when we start adding it up. It is true without doubt that AI uses more energy and more power than similar things in the internet without AI, this is a good reason to be critical of adding it to things we are adding energy cost to things that already cost nonzero energy.

https://www.npr.org/2024/07/10/nx-s1-5028558/artificial-intelligences-thirst-for-electricity

Google itself reports that it's emissions have increased by 50% largely due to its increased usage of AI, spending more energy for not much actual benefit is bad, particularly if we think about how we just passed the 1.5 degree milestone for heating which is really fucking bad! We should be decreasing our energy by any amount, not increasing it for no fucking benefit!

AI currently accounts for 1-2% of the worlds energy and water usage and Goldman sacks predicts this increasing by 2030 to 3-4% this is bad! https://www.goldmansachs.com/insights/articles/AI-poised-to-drive-160-increase-in-power-demand

If you don't wanna believe me because I'm a Tumblr user who doesn't even study this what do I know, surely the substance person knows more. Well don't worry some people way smarter than me at Yale want to tell you this too.

Is animal agriculture, (and agriculture in general) using a lot of water yeah no one is disagreeing with this, but to use it as an argument that AI is fine is just the classic comic strip by Matt Bors of you critique society yet you live in it curious. It is irrelevant to the current discussion. This is a different post, discussing the issues of Animal agriculture, caring and talking about AI issues isn't taking away space or taking away the conversation about animal agriculture. Climate change is caused by a wide spectrum of issues and discussion of one of the issues doesn't make the others less important. Will use of AI singlehandedly bring forth the destruction of the world and set earth on fire? No, ofc it won't. It sure as hell not help the fact we are already doing that by increasing our already strained power though. But I would like to add the moves by Microsoft and Google to use Nuclear power are actually really good! It will lessen emissions that would be caused by their increasing AI usage tremendously, should they just not use stupid power... Yeah ofc, but that is not going to happen, this is America money is greater than any number of lives, than any number of floods and fires, than any increase in temperature. Nuclear power is good, our energy usage isn't going to suddenly come down nor are we going to invent a magic device to fix everything.

I think almost all of the environmental case against AI is factually incorrect fear mongering, or "misinformation"

[revelboo]

GUESS WHO CAME IN THE MAIL FROM THE EBAY PEOPLE U RECOMMEND. MY FAVE MY DARLING 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

I love him so much I want him in my pocket and take him everywhere. I want him to see the world. I'm so happy. I think I might be done now. Atleast for a bit so I can see who comes next. Might get some TFone guys or the new defender ones(? The tiny tiny ones) but I'm so happy I found this blog, your amazing works and blokees 💕💕💕💕 thank you !!!

Soundwave! I'm glad you enjoy my stories! They’ve given us so many Megs variants… I need some more Soundwaves and Starscreams now

Pretty much 🤣 Megs was an oops, though to be fair

Everything Is Alright Pt 118

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Servos lightly trembling feeling your stress and anxiety soaking into him to mingle with the almost manic fury radiating from Megatron and Starscream’s own outrage until he’s nearly overwhelmed, Soundwave swallows a growl. “No,” he says, voice calm and unyielding. Wrapping his servos around you, he opens his cassette compartment and gently eases you inside. Shielding you from what he suspects is coming with how volatile Megatron’s thoughts are right now. And it's a comfort to have you tucked safely inside him, helping ease the ragged hurt of that severed bond. It had felt like having his spark ripped out of him. Had known the Seeker wasn't happy that he'd tried to bond you, but hadn't realized the other mech would go that far.

• Did he really just nope and hide you? Sitting down, illuminated by his biolights and surrounded by the thrum of his spark, a part of you is thankful for the respite from the madness. Because your hands are shaking, just overwhelmed and you really want some alone time to try and process. Maybe cry at how ridiculous your life is. And it’s warm and safe inside Soundwave. “Thanks,” you whisper, unsure if he can hear you in here or not. Can still feel that jangling wrongness where Soundwave's bond had been as you press yourself into a corner of his cassette compartment. Letting yourself grieve that loss with no one staring at you.

• “Give me back my mate,” Starscream growls. Optics narrowing, he checks his wing to make sure that big brute didn’t bend it dragging him and to distract himself from the worry clawing at him. Had felt your pain echo through him and hadn't been able to do anything. Had been helpless to save you or himself and that can never happen again. Needs to be able to hold you in his servos, reassure himself that you're really okay. Doesn't even want to think about the fact that Megatron stole his sparkling and bonded you while you were helpless even if it was to save your life. And his. Doesn't want to owe that mech anything. Denta gritting when Soundwave just folds his arms across his chassis and stares him down. And he can pry that stupid cassette door open if he needs to. Starts forward only to hiss when Megatron seizes him by a wing. Again.

• Pulling until the Seeker leans so far one leg kicks out for balance, Megatron smiles down at Starscream. Because all of this is his fault. His selfishness. He’s sparked because the Seeker had severed Soundwave’s bond and hurt you. “Leave our pet alone. I think we need to have a little talk anyway. Just the three of us.” Ignoring Starscream's furious expression, he releases him and sits on Soundwave's berth. Trying to get his temper under control when he just wants to wring the Seeker's neck. Rip his still pulsing spark from his chassis. And he can't. Can't lay a servo on the mech to do any real damage. Killing Starscream might kill you. And because he's fully bonded to you, him as well. Maybe you'd fully bonded to him on purpose as a way to ensure he couldn't hurt your other mate. Wants to be furious, but he hadn't felt any scheming when he'd been tangled in you. "No one is to find out that we can spark a human or that I'm sparked." Not until he can figure this out. Because yes, it's a chance at saving their race slowly declining race, but if it gets out, there's the question of who the sire is and the Pit will freeze over before he lets it get out that he has Starscream's sparkling. Still can't understand humans and their alien weirdness. You're the carrier, you were supposed to stay sparked. Not pass it to him.

• Servos pressed protectively against the door to his cassette compartment, he croons softly to you, trying to soothe away your turmoil. Lulling you like he would a cassette. Aware that they're both staring at him when he lifts his head and he stares them both down defiantly, daring them to say anything. "Hurt our mate instead of protecting," he says, attention fixing on Starscream. Tries so hard to be the one in control, to be calm and rational, but he'd lost it when the Seeker had torn through his bond. And why? Because he was jealous? Didn't want to share you? Just callously lashing out without realizing there would be consequences. "Keep hurting our mate."

• "Our mate," Starscream hisses, angry and upset at the truth in that accusation. Because he had hurt you trying to free you. And even now, he's not sure if he'd done it to protect you or to keep you to himself. Because you were supposed to be only his. To love only him. You're all he'd needed or wanted. So why hadn't he been enough for you? "You're not my Trine. Not my brothers. You seduced my mate." And Megatron had stolen his future. Denta bared, his wings flare out before dropping. "I was happy."

• Servos pressing to his head, Megatron looks from Soundwave to Starscream. "At this point, it doesn't matter who screwed up the worst. You're fully bonded. I'm fully bonded. Soundwave will be, too." Snarling when Starscream opens his mouth to protest, he looms over the Seeker. "Soundwave, too. Primus, knows our poor pet will need a calm voice in all this. Safety." Pointing at Soundwave when Starscream hisses, Megatron thumps him in the chassis with the end of his cannon. "Where is the human right now? Hiding from both of us with Soundwave. And I swear to Primus if I could blast you in the face for getting me involved in this stupidity, I would without hesitation." Thumping him again to make the Seeker stumble back, Megatron's servos curl into fists. "It's divine comedy that I'm now tied to you for the rest of my existence."

• "Or our mate's. Humans don't live that long, Lord Megatron," he blurts, trying to hurt the other mech. And Starscream freezes as Megatron's optics narrow. Because it's something that has occurred to him more than once. Bond mates bond for life. One following the other in death and he'd known how short your life was when he'd claimed you. Willingly made that sacrifice to spend what time you have with you. But Megatron didn't know and a petty part of himself is almost gleeful about the blank expression on the warlord's face up until Megatron grabs him by the jaw, servos squeezing. 'How short?' Megatron snarls.

Previous

I finally gave up and did an inbox cleanse… but I kept quite a few still as drafts. I just discovered the TransArts Tarantulas figure and he's so pretty. And so, so out of my price range lol

[thechaoticcherub]

Cherub

Pairing: Priest!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Reader is a student teacher at the Catholic nursery school attached to the church she attended growing up. While becoming disillusioned with being a teacher she runs into the church's priest that she has known since he taught her confirmation classes.

Warnings: 18+ please, large age gap, power dynamics, dubcon(?), priests, catholicism, lots of religious imagery, i mean i am GOING TO HELL, blatant blasphemy, violation of holy spaces, joel is a PERVERT, some mentions of him being interested in reader as a underage teenager(no actual underage anything), masturbation, sexual shame, humiliation, embarrassment, innocence kink, virgin reader, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, light choking(not even really choking), rough sex, pussy pronouns, no use of y/n, religious trauma, i really gotta underscore how much I violate holy things from christianity, smoking, cigarettes, cum play, lots of pet names, no daddy kink but lots of calling him Father

Notes: Okay please bless me lord for I have SINNED. this is FILTH even thought there isn't like constant smut it might be the dirtiest thing i've written? I'm so sorry to Catholics everywhere. And I'm sorry if I fucked up terminology. I tried to do lots of research but you know, liturgical shit is hard to understand. also yeah, i get how much this is more writer insert than reader considering the title. Ahem. I'm sorry this is again not really edited or beta read. sorry. Well I hope you enjoy!

OH! also: I have a playlist for this if anyone would be interested, let me know!

Word Count: 6.4 K

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It had been a long week at Holy Trinity Catholic Nursery School and you were exhausted, when you had first started your student teaching unit you had been beyond excited to be back at the church you grew up going to. You were familiar with the facilities including the big, beautiful sanctuary and the priest who still presided over the Parish was the priest who had done confirmation with you. Father Joel Miller had always been a slightly off-beat, interesting, yet intimidating choice for priest of a Catholic church. He was known for smoking Marlboro Reds in his office, having a scruffy unshaven face, giving short homilies in his gruff Texan accent and seeming more like a cowboy than a priest. 

There was something about him though that had always sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t tell if it was a good shiver, or something sinister. He was handsome, that was a known fact around the church when you were growing up, the other girls in your confirmation class giggled about it and  even now your co-workers at the nursery school often made jokes or teasing comments to each other. He had to be in his mid-fifties now with greying stubble and hair and lines around his eyes and forehead but yes, you did still find him attractive, but it didn’t shake the sense that your tingling sense of something might not have been entirely positive. 

Maybe it was the simple fact that his eyes always had lingered on you for longer than you felt necessary. Even when you were a young teenager in his confirmation classes, learning prayers, handing in your sermon notes, sitting in mass every Sunday, you felt his eyes on you. You never understood what it was about you that made him look for so long but he had. Now that you were working on becoming a teacher like you had always hoped, you found that when he came to visit the classrooms, he spent his time asking you questions about the classroom instead of the lead teachers. That was easy to brush off as maybe he felt like he was helping you learn, but when you brought the children to the main church for their daily prayers his eyes would spark on you and he would come to you first when he gave a blessing to everyone. His hand resting on your forehead as he spoke his short blessing before drawing the sign of the cross on your forehead with his thumb, his eyes stuck on yours as if he would never look away. Eventually he always did, moving on to each individual child and adult from your classroom, but he didn’t linger with any of them the way he lingered with you. 

Now, as the day was coming to a close you had snuck away from the classroom to try and escape the exhaustion that was working with children day in and day out. You had always wanted to be a Nursery school teacher but now that you were experiencing a classroom you understood why burnout was so common. You had made up a bad excuse and snuck down the cool hallway, away from the school portion of the building,  to the candle lit nave, you weaved your way through the pews over to the side aisle lined with stone arches. You took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the cutesy dress you wore because of your ridiculous desire to be the next Ms Frizzle. In your opinion, just under the arches to the side of the pews was the best place to sneak away to and smoke without being in too much danger of being caught. The incense that was regularly burned covered up most of the smell, you could enjoy the view of the sanctuary and the altar while you smoked and it was usually deserted. You tucked yourself under one of the arches, your back pressed into the cool stone and lit up. Taking a long inhale you relished in the fact that you weren’t surrounded by screaming preschoolers. It was allowing yourself these couple minutes away from the chaos of the end of the day that made this week bearable. You smoked and tapped the ash off onto the stone floor, rubbing it into the cracks with your foot as you went. 

“You ain’t sposed to be smokin’ in here, young lady.” The voice came from a few yards away by the priest’s door that opened into the sanctuary by the altar, you jumped and turned to face the man whose voice it was. Father Miller was watching you as he walked across the sanctuary, first past the altar and then the pulpit and down through the central gap between the altar rails. You felt frozen in place, you had smoked here multiple times and no one had ever come in and of course now, it was Father Miller who had found you here. He stood in front of the first pew and crossed his arms over his chest, still watching you. 

“Shit,” you said, unsure of what to do with the lit cigarette. Usually when you were done smoking you’d put it out on the floor and rub out the mark and shove the butt into the pack to get rid of later. Now he was there and the smoke from your cigarette filtered up above you, curling against the stone arch and then dispersing. 

“Got a fresh mouth on you too,” He added with a laugh. “Never knew that about you before,” he crossed in front of the pew, walking towards you. You felt like a small animal caught in a trap and he was some kind of giant predator stalking towards you. He was wearing all black, his shirtsleeves were rolled up and his clerical collar was bright white against the black of the shirt. 

“I’m sorry, Father, I…didn’t think-” You broke off because really you didn’t think you would be caught, not that you didn’t think it would be a problem or anything. Joel’s eyes widened a little as he waited for you to finish your sentence, he turned at the end of the pew to walk along the side aisle to the first arch where you were still trapped. His finger grazed alone the  wood of the pew, 

“You didn’t think…?” He prompted when your voice faltered. You shrugged, 

“I don’t have an excuse, Father.” You admitted. Father Miller walked right up to you in your alcove that you thought would be so secret and stood in front of you. You remembered how intimidated by him you had always been, suddenly you felt fifteen again, having to recite scripture and prayers correctly in your weekly confirmation classes. Your heart thudded in your chest as he looked down at you, he was tall, broad and as he stood so close to you, popping any sort of personal space bubble you thought you had, you realized you could smell him. Tobacco, cool mint, fresh sweat and then underneath it all, an acrid heat, almost metallic. It mingled into something not unpleasant but it did mean he was too close. 

“Go ahead and smoke that, kid.” Joel’s eyes moved from yours down towards the cigarette dangling in your fingers and he nodded slowly, encouraging you. 

“I-I shouldn’t…” You stuttered, still looking up at him, almost transfixed on his face, still frozen there half with fear, half just trapped in his gaze. 

“No, you shouldn’t…but you already are, cherub, may as well finish.” Joel said and you watched as a sly smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. Cherub. Not typically did a priest use any sort of nickname for a parishioner, let alone a pet name like that. If anything they would say “my child” if in confession. Cherub sent that familiar shiver down your spine, a memory surfaced of that word on his lips years before. It had been to you then too,

“Say a hail mary and you will be absolved, cherub.” You must have confessed something to him or done something wrong in class.  Your heart sped at the memory and your eyes flicked up to meet his. He was telling you to smoke, daring you to and there was no reason not to anymore. It wasn’t like he didn’t smoke in the church, Mr. Marlboro Reds in his office. So you held his gaze as best you could and lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. You blew the smoke away from him and he watched you, like he had so many times before. 

“Aint you supposed to be with the kids?” He asked, still standing to close, his scent still wafting over you, still just watching you smoke. 

“Yes,” You said softly, “But I needed…a minute away,” You didn’t even want to admit how much you needed to get away from your job, your responsibilities but the words spilled out of you before you could stop them. You hurriedly brought the cigarette up to your lips again, as if to silence yourself.

“A minute away…” Joel repeated, “To pray?” He asked, his voice mocked you because even though you were in the church, you weren’t lighting a candle or on your knees asking for peace. You were smoking and feeling bad for yourself. You started to shake your head, the cigarette dangling from your lips now, before you could even complete the motion his hand was on your chin, halting your movement.  His thick thumb dug into one side of your jaw, his pointer finger curled down the other side. Breath, and all thought was knocked out of you. All you could do was look up at the chiseled face above you.  There was grey in the scruff on his cheeks and peppering his mustache and  his chin was tilted up as his eyes looked down on you, examining your face. The old priest shouldn’t have been touching you like this, you knew that but your feet wouldn’t work, your stomach twisted and the shiver running up and down your spine still couldn’t make up its mind about whether it was a good shiver or a bad shiver. “I think you need’ta get on your knees to pray more often,” his voice had lowered slightly but the gruff resonance in it was enough to shake you. You thought for a half second he was about to force your to your knees now but instead he reached up with his other hand and plucked the dangling cigarette from your lips. He put it into his mouth, inhaled and then removed it, taking a step away from you,

“Thanks, cherub.” he said and then he turned on his  nice leather shoes and walked back up through the pews. 

+

You didn’t return to the church to smoke again. You did tell yourself you would go to mass more often. The thoughts you were having about that evening were completely unholy, and you needed to force them out of your mind. You needed to take the Eucharist and try and heal yourself from these sins of the flesh. For the first time in a long time you had been tempted, really tempted to do something you knew was wrong. When you were young you had touched yourself plenty but as you got older you became more and more disgusted by your actions and resisted it, knowing self love was sinful, but that interaction with Father Joel Miller had you thinking things that made your body heat up. The crawling shiver up your spine had been a warning, a warning about feelings that had bubbled up in your tummy and how it would be so easy for those feelings, those desires, wants, needs to take over. It was your own dirty mind that was allowing you to believe it was because of Father Joel looking at you that you got that creeping sensation. He was a priest, a little bit of an unorthodox priest, but a priest nonetheless and you were allowing dirty thoughts to change your opinion of him. So going to mass was a good idea. 

You didn’t allow yourself to look at Father Miller during the service on Sunday, but his gruff voice speaking his homily reminded you vividly of the way he said “cherub”. The way he had told you that you needed to “get on your knees to pray.” You could barely pay attention to his words because simply his voice, that resounding, husky voice did something to you and warmth pooled deep in your belly. It felt like there was a persistent drip of warmth sliding lower down, lower to that place that remained mostly unexplored by you, by anyone. All because of his voice.

You felt like it vibrated through the floor of the church and up into your pew, making you pulse with your disgusting desires.

You kept your eyes down, on your hymnal, refusing to look up at Father Miller because there was a quiet part of you, in the back of your mind, that told you if you looked at him, you’d be meeting his gaze. That would do absolutely nothing to help control that heat that was pooling inside of you. 

When you stood to go to the altar rails and receive the eucharist your legs were wobbly, damn this weakness. There was no reason to sexualize Father Miller’s kindness to you. He hadn’t gotten you in trouble for smoking in the church and in return you were allowing these debased thoughts to happen to you in church on your way to receive the very body and blood of Christ. While you walked up the aisle, the crucifix directly in front of you, a statue of the Virgin Mary staring into your soul, you could feel that drip of heat wetting your underwear. You tried your hardest to tell yourself it was nothing, it was just natural discharge, not what you knew it to be, your body’s reaction to Father Miller’s voice as he spoke holy words, prayers and talked of repentance during his Homily.

At the altar rail you knelt down on the cushion and clasped your hands in front of you to pray while you waited for your turn to receive communion.  You knew you would have to look at Father Miller while he gave you the body of Christ but you were scared, you had forced yourself to avoid looking at him all throughout mass, you hadn’t met his gaze when you knew he was looking at you and you told yourself time and time again that his gaze meant nothing. But your attempts to curb your desires had been in vain something about his voice, about the memories of his hand on your chin, his body so close to you, his smell had caused you to leak arousal into your underwear. Your labia felt swollen against the tight cotton and you were ashamed to be kneeling in church like this, your face was burning much like you would be if you were to be struck down dead right now. You could hear him approaching, speaking to each parishioner as he placed the body of Christ on their tongue and blessed them. You would have to look up at him shortly, your eyes would have to meet his, you would have to take in that face that had been haunting you while he spoke his blessing to you. He was on the person to your right and now was the time to tilt your head up, you almost didn’t but as he moved over, you knew your place as a good Catholic and you looked up at your priest. 

He was just as entrancing as he always had been, in off white vestments with gold stitching, his greying hair pushed back away from his face, a little long in the back, curling around his neck and his eyes, dark and hungry, staring down at you. Your vagina clenched around nothing and you burned with shame and the memory of his big hand at your chin and jaw. 

Your eyes locked onto his and his gaze held yours, refusing to let you go, there was no choice in the matter, you would gaze up into his eyes until the end of time if he wanted it. He held the body of Christ out to you, your head upturned. At the time you didn’t understand just how reverent you looked, all you could think of was him and the vague worry that your juices might have been dripping down your leg. 

“The body of Christ,” Father Miller’s voice changed ever so slightly when he spoke the words to you. You had been listening the whole time you had been kneeling and now his voice had lost the monotone pitch he had had. There was a lilt in his voice that was only for you. 

“Amen,” You said, you opened your mouth, your tongue very slightly pushed out, resting on the edge of your bottom lip, your eyes still captured in his gaze. Something blazed there, behind his eyes and despite the heat in your cheeks and the heat that was making your wet and swollen vulva pulse with a need you had never felt before, that familiar shiver crawled up your spine. Joel placed the body of Christ on your tongue and maybe you imagined it, maybe it was a split second that felt like it stretched into eternity but you could have sworn the tip of his finger grazed the side of your tongue as he took his hand away. That tiniest touch of his thick, calloused finger against an intimate and sensitive part of yourself made your brow briefly furrow and that deep clench of your sex to take over your body again. You closed your mouth around the wafer that you believed to be the actual flesh of your Savior and your gaze remained on the man granting you that sacrament. You watched his lip twitch ever so slightly as, without taking those dark, burning brown eyes form yours, he took the chalice he was handed and held it before you. 

“The blood of Christ,” he said, you could hear that lilt again, like he was mocking not only you but God himself as he held that chalice out. 

“Amen,” you said and he brought the chalice to your mouth, tilting it back while cupping his hand under your chin in case it spilled over. The proximity of his hand to your chin buzzed something in you. Your eyes remained on him and his eyebrows raised slightly as he fed you the Blood of Christ. When he removed the chalice from your lips, a droplet of the wine dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. You were about to reach up and wipe it when his thumb beat you to it. In one quick motion, he swiped it away, the calloused thumb leaving a trail of heat on your face. You felt him tear his eyes away from you like a punch to the gut and you knew you had to continue on. You made the sign of the cross on yourself, collected every ounce of strength you had and got up from the altar rail. You could feel your slick soaking your underwear, and wetting your thighs as you walked. You knew you had to beg for forgiveness and the only place to do that was Confession. 

+

You knew you had to confess. You hadn’t been able to resist your carnal desires, once you had returned to your apartment after mass on Sunday you had tried your hardest to relieve that mounting pressure between your thighs. You had delicately stroked your folds and experimented with pace and tried to find a rhythm that would relieve you but as if as punishment, you couldn’t. Now, you needed to confess and to make matters worse, the only person you could confess to was Father Miller. You came to confession on a Friday night after school had let out. The hours for confession were set and you knew he would be in the confessional, waiting for perishoners.

Friday was usually silent at the church, the staff had left for the weekend and most people didn’t confess on a Friday. You walked into the church  and down the side aisle to where the confessional was. It was tucked into the side aisle just in front of the very altar rail you had knelt at and drenched your underwear earlier in the week. Your cheeks were bright red as you stepped into the booth and knelt down in front of the partition, there was a screen between you and him but you knew he was there. The smell of him lingered all around you. Tobacco, mint and the acrid metallic scent…what could that be? If you had to guess you’d say gunpowder but that made no sense to you. Your body reacted to his scent as if you were being touched by him again, your body clenched and your heart skipped a beat. 

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was…” You actually had to think about it for a moment, you had confessed at your church in college but that was over a year ago…was that the last time you had confessed? “Over a year ago,” You mumbled. You paused, unsure if you should just start or if he would say something else. 

“What are your sins, Cherub?” He knew it was you. He’d never say that to someone else. It would have been, “My child”. But no, cherub. You were taken aback by this breach in protocol and you didn’t speak for so long he cleared his throat, “We ain’t gettin’ any younger.” He said. “And your sins aint any closer to absolved,” You needed to speak and speak now, to get all this off of your chest so you could lay it to rest and forget it. 

“I’ve…been plagued with unholy desires, Father.” You said. You could hear him shift in the box next to you and you leaned your head forward, your forehead pressed to the screen separating you. “I’ve been having these intense…” Embarrassment made your cheeks flush, you fiddled with the hem of the skirt you wore today and you knew you had to keep going, “Sexual fantasies,” You blurted it out and you heard him let out a long, slow breath. “I can’t stop them but the thoughts are so intense…and wrong,” You said. You listened to his breathing while your own breathing quickened because the heady scent of him was doing something to you again. Your knees were aching from where they were pressed into the kneeler and your whole body felt tight and tense. 

“You been actin’ on these…fantasies?” He asked. Acting on them? Did an aborted masturbation attempt count as acting on them? In the eyes of the Lord, yes. You needed to admit it to him. 

“Yes, Father…I…I believe I have.” You said it even as you could feel that blooming, dripping heat fill your belly. 

“You believe you have, huh?” He asked, that mocking lilt colored his voice and another shiver crawled up your spine. While the shiver might have been caused by something unholy, it certainly was a good shiver. 

“I’ve touched myself because of these fantasies,” You admitted softly, your fingers still twisting the end of your skirt. “I was never able to…finish but it’s still a sin.” You told him taking a deep breath through your nose, you wondered if he was leaning in towards the screen too. You pulled your head back to look,  you could see bits of him through the latticed wood that created the screen that was supposedly there to protect anonymity.  

“Yea, Cherub, it sure is a sin.” He spoke and the words, his voice was like an injection of heat straight to your core. You had already practically leaked all over the altar rails at communion but now you were going to drip down your thighs in confession. “And I know what your penance should be,” he said. You let out a relieved breath, maybe if you did the penance you would be absolved and God would take the lust from your body. 

“Yes, Father. What should I do?” You asked. You heard Joel lean forward now, his voice was closer to the screen and the seat he was on creaked slightly. 

“You gotta reach your fingers under your skirt and touch yourself again, right here, right now.” His low voice sounded even more gravely than usual and the words burned through you. 

“F-Father?” You questioned, unsure if this could be possible. Your brain was already addled with lust, and this felt wrong but the temptation was so strong. 

“The only way we can absolve you of these sins is to complete them.” He insisted and you knew how wrong he was. Those shivers you felt were warnings of him. But how could you resist this? His voice was like a drug and that scent and the way you remembered the feeling of his fingers on your jaw, the pad of his thumb on your chin at communion, the ridge of his finger on the side of your tongue. “I want you to tell me just how wet you are, kneeling there before God,” Joel’s voice came to you through your lust filled fog and before you could think further you reached your hand up under your skirt and into your underwear. Your fingers immediately slipped over your soaked lips and you let out a gasp at the realization you had been soaking your underwear during the entirety of the confession. 

“Father, it’s…so wet.” You gasped, you heard movement again from his side of the confessional, the rustle of clothing and maybe the clinking of a belt being adjusted. 

“Get those knees nice and wide and stroke your lips for me,” Father Miller said, and you knew he was close to you leaned into the wood lattice screen. You could practically feel his breath. You did as you were told, kneeling a little wider and stroking your lips. You let out a squeak of pleasure, “Nice n’ slow, darlin’” His voice floated through the screen and your fingers slowly, painfully slow stroked along your puffy lips. 

“Oh God,” The words were ripped from you as the tips of your delicate fingers grazed your clitorus and your whole body throbbed. 

“Jus’ your lips, pretty girl, don’t touch that clit of yours.” The filth words coming from your priest's mouth only spurred you on. You wanted to ignore him and touch your clit again, but how had he known you had touched it in the first place? “Stroke down to your hole, cherub,” it was horribly disgusting and lewd to hear him talk like that but it still stoked a terrible fire inside you. You reached your hand farther down, sinking your butt back towards your feet as you knelt. Your finger found your entrance, the source of your wetness and you found yourself longing to push your finger into yourself. As if he heard your very thought Joel chuckled,

“Dont even think about fingerin’ yourself, little girl.” He said. A moan of desperation that matched any of the vulgarity he had spewed to you fell from your lips. “Tell me, cherub, is that a virgin cunt you’ve got over there? Or is there somethin’ else you need to be confessin’ to your Father?” he asked. Your fingers were tracing a circle around your soaked hole, trying to listen to him and not let your finger enter your body. 

“I’m a virgin, Father. Please…” You didn’t know what you were asking for with that please but it felt appropriate. Once you said that, there was a rush of movement and then the door to your side of the confessional was thrown open and Father Miller stood in front of you. You nearly toppled over from where you were kneeling, your hand still shoved into  your underwear.  He made a tsking sound, 

“Oh my little Virgin Mary,” his voice crawled up your spine like the shiver. “I’ve always known you were my good girl,” He reached down to where you were kneeling and wrapped his arm around your upper arm, pulling you up to stand. You gasped and he pulled you out of the confessional, his body moving your weight like it was nothing. His hand tightened on your arm as he pulled you into his body and then it dropped to around your waist and his mouth was on yours, kissing you. It was anything but a chaste kiss, his tongue lavished your mouth, circling yours while his arms wrapped around your waist keeping you locked against his broad, strong body.  When he pulled away from you, you were gasping for breath and he let out a dark chuckle

“Oh, I am going to eat you up, Cherub.” It was a threat, but it made you pulse with need. Joel took your upper arms in his hands again, fingers digging in, “Let’s pray,” he said and he started to pull you over a few feet to the altar rail. In a sharp movement he pushed you down, bent at the waist over the rail, your feet pressed into the kneeler, you squealed in surprise, 

“Father!” You managed to squeak out.

“Let’s see this pretty cunt that’s causin’ you such problems, sweetheart.” Joel growled and with one hand shoved your skirt up and then ripped your undies down, exposing your soaked pussy to him. You whimper in shame and embarrassment. You were so close to the holy altar, staring up at the crucifix while your most private part was exposed to Father Joel Miller. He let out a laugh, as his hand came up to your ass, he grabbed the meat of it, digging his fingers in and spreading it enough to expose more of your pussy to him. 

“Ohhh there she is,” He breathed, he let out a low whistle, “So swollen, so wet.” The fingers of his other hand stroked down your wet lips and in response you spread your legs a little more. “Is that what you want, Cherub?” he asked. You nodded vigorously, completely lost in lust. Joel stroked along your lips up to your clit and he started to flick slow circles around it. Your moans started to echo as he worked you up. “That’s it, enjoy that sin, darlin,” he breathed, leaning over your back to whisper into your ear. You could feel his black button up pressed into your back while his fingers continued to circle around your clit, sending burning pleasure coursing through you. 

“P-please!” You begged, letting yourself go completely to the need for more. “God! Please!” You cried. 

“Please, what?” Joel asked into your ear, you could feel his stubble and mustache against your ear. His scent washed over you, intoxicating you further. 

“Please, I want you inside of me, Father!” You cried, you hadn’t even realized that was what you would say when you opened your mouth but it came tumbling out anyway. His fingers moved from your clit to your entrance where you were clenching on nothing, your cunt was begging for it regardless of what you said. His middle finger circled around your hole, not entering you but noticing how tight you were. Joel pulled back enough to look down at your pussy again, 

“You want me inside of your virgin pussy?” He asked, You nodded before letting your head hang down in shame, the shame of how much you needed it and how much you were willing to sacrifice for it. The temptation of him had been too much. You could feel his eyes on your fluttering sex while he started to ease his finger inside of you. He rocked his finger inside of you and you pressed yourself back against him. 

“Oh cherub, I can see that you’re a virgin.” He said, those greedy, dark eyes on you, still, even now, sending shivers up your spine. His finger had barely made it halfway inside of you when he tugged his finger away. You gasped at the loss and pressed yourself back towards him. 

“Father! No! Please!” You whined, wiggling your hips. 

“If your virginity is gunna be mine, I sure as hell am gunna take it with my cock.” Joel’s molten voice sizzled inside of you and the realization washed over you that you weren’t going to try to stop him, and you were about to be filled with his cock right here in the middle of the church. You heard the buckle of his belt and the shift of clothes, still leaned over the altar railing, legs spread wide, ready to for him to fully know you. 

Joel watched your pussy as he notched his thick cock against your hole, your inner lips were parting for him waiting for your cunt to accept him. 

“Joel,” you gasped his name for the first time as you fully understood what was about to happen. “Is it going to hurt?”You asked. 

“Well it ain’t goin’ to be a walk in the park at first, Cherub.” He said, and you could feel how thick his cock head felt at your entrance“But I think she’ll open up for me,” his voice had that mocking lilt to it again. Before you could say anything else he had started to push into you and the stretch was so much that the breath was completely knocked out of you. You lurched forward as his hips rocked into you. 

“Oh, that looks so good…pretty cunt splittin’ open for me.” He said and you knew he was watching the place where your bodies connected. He pressed himself forward again, forcing his way inside of you, making a spot for his thick cock in your tight hole. You let out a whine and he gripped your hips tugging you back more. “Atta girl, you’re takin’ my cock so well. This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?” he asked and all you could manage was a garbled moan in response. It did hurt some as he continued to ease himself in inch by thick inch but you were also completely drenched with slick that it was decently quick work to ease you open. 

“Father! Oh, its…so big!” You pressed your hips back, hoping to open yourself more to him. When he was fully sheathed inside of you, he was still for so long that you felt like you might go crazy with the need for friction. “Please…father…fuck me.” You gasped and that seemed to spur Joel on, he started to pull his cock back before shoving it back in, setting a brutal pace. Joels breath started to grow ragged with his own pleasure,

“Is that what you want, little girl?” He asked as his hips snapped forward to fill you over and over. “You want my cock to fuck you?” He asked. You nodded, still dazed. 

“I wanna hear you, Cherub. Confess to me, what do you want?” Joel bent forward over you, one hand snaking around you and grabbing your throat , fingers pressing into your jaw.  You moaned, unable to form a proper sentence as he pulled you back by your neck, making you look up at the altar in front of you. “Come on, let‘s hear that confession,” he said as his cock ruthlessly pummeled against your cervix, splitting you open more and more with each thrust. His other hand, the one not forcing you to look at the image of your savior, trailed down your belly and underneath your skirt. His middle finger found your clit, stroking it in those quick, flicking circles. Your body tensed against the feeling, tightening around his cock. He groaned into your cheek while he held you up with his hand on your neck. “Come on, tell me you want me to fuck your pretty little cunt.” He said. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cried, your eyes blurring with tears as you admitted it in front of him, and God all the same. “Yes, I want your cock to fuck me and I want to come!” You cried. 

“You want to come?” He asked, “Is that it, Cherub? You wanna come while confessin’ your sins right here in front of the holy altar?” his voice was strained and you could feel his thrusts becoming messier, harder as he chased his own orgasm. 

“Yes! Father! Please!” his finger stroked across your clit. 

“Come on my cock, Cherub. Let go for me,” He spoke the word into her cheek, your head turned to the side, leaning back into him. Your orgasm burst over you like white light, heat and shivers down your spine. He stroked your clit through it while his hips pumped his thick cock in and out of you, pulling mewls of pleasure out of. Your eyes opened and you watched the statue of the Virgin Mary while his cock pummeled your cervix and he released ropes of his hot spend inside of you. He groaned into your cheek, your body still back against him. Joel’s teeth caught your jaw, biting you briefly. 

As your breathing settled a little, Father Joel Miller pulled himself out of you. You felt his eyes on your completely destroyed pussy and his fingers briefly stroked at your entrance, gathering a generous amount of his sticky come onto his fingers before he lifted your underwear for you, covering you again. 

“Turn around, Cherub.” he instructed and you did, your face burning with the shame of what had just happened. Joel grabbed your jaw with one of his hands, “Open,” he said and you did what you were told, your tongue pressed out just a tiny bit, resting against your bottom lip. He brought the finger coated in his come that had been dripping out of you to your tongue and swiped across it. The salty, heady taste mixed with the scent of Father Joel Miller, Tobacco, mint, fresh sweat and the acrid burning metallic gunpowder smell. Shivers ran up and down your spine as you stood in front of the holy altar, bleary eyed and red cheeked. 

“God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

[anon-sect]

As Trevor was walking around the corner of the back lot of the office, he happened to notice Axel and Landon smoking weed on the premises. This was in strict violation of company rules. "You know you two aren't supposed to be smoking that stuff here." He spoke to them.

Axel and Landon both looked over at their coworker, Trevor. "Mind your own business. We won't get caught. We have been doing this for weeks." Landon replied. "Yeah, piss off, okay." Axel remarked back as well.

Trevor saw no need to say any more and walked off. It was really none of his business after all if they weren't caught yet.

Later that day, the manager had called everyone up to the main area. "As you all know, we have a strict no weed smoking on premisis. But there has been someone smoking in the back lot. We have found the buds on the ground." Owen paused for a moment. "Due to the plant odor, it's hard to smell the weed scent in here. So if anyone knows anything, they are encoursge to speak up." He finished and dismissed everyone.

Trevor went up to Axel and Landon. "You know I should report you two." He spoke softly so that only those two heard his words. "You would lose your jobs, I bet." He added.

Axel and Landon looked a little nervous. They were both already on their second strike for violating company rules. If there was a third, they would be fired for sure. That resulst they didn't want. "What do you want to keep your mouth shut?" Landon asked Trevor, hoping something reasonable. "Yes, anything, we don't need a third strike." Axel also pleaded for some mercy from his coworker.

Trevor thought about it. "Come by my office in ten minutes, and I will tell you. If you don't show, I might be persuaded to talk." He spoke as he walked off heading bakc to his office. He wanted them to pondoer their options.

Riight on time, Trevor saw Landon and Axel enter his office. "We are here, now what you want from us to keep your silence." Axel wanted to know so that this ordeal would be over with.

Trevor pulled out his phione and opened up his TF Pro Max app. "I want you two to be my perfect socks to keep my feet comfortable. I never had living socks before." He stated his request to the strange look on their faces.

"Let me get this straight. You want us to be literal socks willing?" Landon asked in disbelief. Trevor nodded back in response. Both laughed at the thought of being socks.

"I guess I should call the manager then." Trevor threatened while smiling back at them.

"Even if it was possible, It's worth keeping your silence. We will be your socks." Landon spoke, not believing that would ever happen.

Travor pointed his phone at both of them and hit the flash. Axel and Landon were instantly turned into a pair of whites socks. He went around his desk and picked up the socks from off the floor. "Nice, you both look perfect. I will wear you two for about a week. I will turn you back to normal then." He sat back down in his chair and took off his old socks in favor of his new living socks. He loved how the new socks felt on his feet. He wiggled his toes in them before putting his favorite sneakers back on his feet. He caught a quick scent of the odor from his shoes. He was glad he wasn't the one being stuck in that foul stench.

Landon was totally shellshocked. He was completely wrapped around Trevor's foot and trapped in the most foul prison he could possiby think of. The shoe smell so bad it almost made him pass out if he had a physical human body. He didn't believe it was even possible to literally be a sock, yet here he was on his coworker's foot. The insoles had been so worn in that he could tell that the shoes were worn very often. They reek of foot stench of years of use. He wanted to get away form the foul odor, but was powerless to do so.

Axel was mentally begging for mercy. He found feet to be disgusting. The worst torment in his mind was to be tied up and forced to smell another guy's foot. He saw that being turned into a sock was worse than that. He was trapped in as stench that smelled like rotten eggs and sour milk with no way of escape. The very foot kept him trapped in his shoe prison, which made him feel so degraded and humiliated. He would have rather the guy rat on them than this existence. The excruciating pain of being walked on made it unbearable in his mind. He was now just an object on his owner's foot. The fact that this would be for a whole week only to keep one secret made it not worth agreeing to this. He mentally pleaded for Trevor to change them back to normal. He didn't want to be a whole week on his foot.

THREE WEEKS LATER.....

Trevor relaxed in his office with his socked feet propped on his desk. He had been wearing the same pair of socks for the past three weeks. Someone had also noticed Landon and Axel smoking weed in the back lot and reported it to the manager two days after he had turned them into socks. Seeing how this would have been their third strike, their employment in the company would have been terminated anyway. At least as his socks, they still had a job. Their new job would forever be to comfort his feet and to absorb all his foot sweat and funk.

But Trevor did enjoy other uses for his living socks. They made good cum rags as well. He took advantage of that on multiple occasions over the past three weeks. He often thought about what his socks were feeling now that they were permanent footwear. Unfortnantly for them, he had erased their datat them moment he heard they were reported. There was no need to change them back to normal now. They were just better of as his dirty, smelly socks.