#I just want to be right and have everyone agree with me is that too much to ask?

[the-flaneur]

four-tune favours the bold (mv1)

pairing: max verstappen x alonso!reader [smau]

summary: having won his fourth world title, max finds no better time to tell your father that you're dating (and to maybe also get his blessing)

warnings: none (i think)

a/n: now that we finally have M4X (yipeeeeee), can we please get goatlonso back, preferably in the next few years (pls let the newey rocketship work)

[masterlist] [requests]

-> instagram

y/n_priv

liked by fatherofthree, blackdontcrack, inchident_no1 and others

y/n_priv reactions after max told me he had told dad about us (he lied)

view all comments

blackdontcrack max stop sending your girlfriend into a heart attack, she's already getting one from your kids

fatherofthree she learnt that one from you and roscoe 💀 blackdontcrack HEY. my son is very well behaved

notnowinsnomore I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU WONT JUST TELL HIM, IT'S NOT THAT HARD MAX

fatherofthree DO YOU WANT TO TELL HIM FOR ME 🤨🤨🤨 notnowinsnomore NO???? DO YOU THINK I WANT TO DIE??? notnowinsnomore IT'S ALSO YOUR RELATIONSHIP, NOT MINE

honeyhoney you've got to give him like 10 years to process that you're even in the same social sphere as his daughter...good luck man

fatherofthree thanks dan 😖 fatherofthree padel later? y/n_priv no? we have our date??? 😧😧😧 honeyhoney you beating up max now y/nnie? y/n_priv 😁👍

yourbff_priv babes ditch the men for me 😍

y/n_priv yes wifey 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 fatherofthree @/yourbff_priv stop stealing MY girlfriend yourbff_priv skill issue

fatherofthree

liked by y/n_priv, inchident_no1, notnowinsnomore and others

fatherofthree stopped her from becoming blonde and still got kisses xoxo

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notnowinsnomore that second picture is exactly is what's gonna put you on top of fernando's kill list

fatherofthree no it wont notnowinsnomore yes it will inchident_no1 yes it will blackdontcrack yes it will honeyhoney yes it will ima5starmichelin yes it will buzzlightyear yes it will y/n_priv yes it will fatherofthree ok maybe it will. but fernando doesn't need to know

inchident_no1 your rendition of my heart goes on is truly...

y/n_priv truly what CHARLES? say it with your pussy fatherofthree YEAH WHAT SHE SAID inchident_no1 rubbish 🙄 y/n_priv BOOOOOOO YOU'RE RUBBISH

y/n_priv

liked by fatherofthree, spicysugarbaby, inchident_no1 and others

y/n_priv PUTTING IT ALL ON BLACK! VIVA LAS VEGAS BABY 🤩 YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN US AT THE MGM UNTIL THURSDAY MORNING @/f1

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inchident_no1 should've bet on red 😉 wouldn't have lost you 100k

spicysugarbaby agreed 🤭 blackdontcrack well i SEVERELY disagree since we won 250k on the next spin on black so.... fatherofthree I LEAVE YOU ALONE WITH THEM FOR 10 MINUTES AND YOU'VE ALREADY BET 250K??? y/n_priv yeah but it's an investment babe 😘

antman can i join you guys? 🥺🥺🥺

y/n_priv not yet little kimi, in another three years (i think; i'll take you to the casino then myself ☺️) y/n_priv and yes you too @/we_are_barebears we_are_barebears YESSSSS 😌

f1 can i come over pls pls

y/n_priv of course admin ❤️ f1 yay 😁

-> messages

-> instagram

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and others

yourusername feeling right at home here, dressed and betting on red

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user1 HOLY LORD MOTHER IS FINALLY BACK TO SERVE CUNT IN THE PADDOCK 🥵🥵🥵

user2 the sexy spanish alonso genes are real with this one yourusername i would hope so! 🥱 user3 istg ive never seen a spanish person look bad in red

user4 GOD REALLY GIVES US Y/N AS AN APOLOGY CAUSE HOW DOES SHE EXIST????

user5 she's literally a goddess on earth user6 the face economy is unreal with her 😍 yourusername cant just be a nepo baby, gotta make papa proud 😘

user7 super hyped for vegas now that you're here with us y/n 🤩

user8 hopefully we see another alonso top 10 (i can copium for a top 6) user9 he will literally dnf everyone if it means y/n gets to see him podium or win again (2023 was literally iconic) yourusername papa will be ready to make stroll do crashgate 😉 (but i've asked him to refrain for this weekend) user10 ya'll y/n's cooking 😌😌😌

user11 ERM ANYONE GONNA BRING UP PIC 3 CAUSE....

user12 YA'LL GIRLIE I WAS GONNA SAY THE SAME THING user13 who's that @/yourusername 🤨 user14 who's that @/yourusername 🤨 yourusername no comment 🥺👉👈 user15 whoever that is do be looking fine affff user16 also probably fearing for his life, considering she's got like ten godfathers and then over twenty drivers ready to bash a man for her 💀💀💀

user17 THE FERRARI AURA IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE 😆

fernandoalo_oficial who's that princessa

yourusername i will tell you soon papa 😁

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 suited up and ready to take on vegas. 💪 bring on the race 🎰

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user18 STILL COOKING WITH A SLIGHTLY COOKED CAR, LETS GET TITLE NUMBER 4 💪💪💪

user19 literally salivating over pic one, cause he's so fine 🥵

user20 waiting for "2024 fia f1 world champion is max verstappen"

user21 SIMPLY LOVELY PUTTING YOURSELF INTO A STRONG POSITION

user22 getting the ladies i see in pic two 🤣

user23 he knows what he wants, and what he's going to get afterwards 😏

user24 VIVA LAS VEGASSSSSS, GETTING READY TO RUMBLE

-> twitter

-> irl

as max stepped out of the cockpit of his red bull - his gloved hands trembling slightly - he could feel the relief coursing through him, palpable even under the thick layers of his racing suit and balaclava. the cold autumn air nipped at his damp skin, but he barely noticed, lost in the overwhelming rush of emotions.

after a very, very long season, filled with challenges both in and out of the car, he had finally done it…he had won his fourth world championship. 

as he stood there under the vegas lights, savoring this triumphant moment in front of the roaring crowd, his thoughts drifted to you.

throughout the year, your presence had always been a beacon amidst the chaos, a constant reminder of what truly mattered to him beyond the roar of engines and the glare of millions of fans. as he ran towards his team, his chest pounding and blood rushing in his ears, he thought of your earlier message, and his heart swelled with affection for you. he knew now was finally the perfect opportunity to share his love for you with the rest of the world.

as you watched max leap into the waiting arms of his jubilant crew, who slapped his back, clapping and cheering, chanting his name, you tried furiously to blink away the tears. your boyfriend had finally achieved his fourth world title, and he was making both of your wishes come true.

walking over to the other drivers, max felt the hand of another behind him. turning around, the butterflies in his stomach heaved once again, coming face to face with your father, fernando alonso. max's exuberant gaze locked onto the figure before him, and as their eyes met, max felt the familiar flutter of nervousness in his chest, a sensation he'd grown accustomed to whenever thinking of you and your father.

"max," fernando greeted him warmly, extending a strong hand. "congratulations. you've earned every bit of this championship." max clapped his hand firmly, trying to hide the slight tremble behind his grin. "thank you, fernando,”

max blushed for a second, as fernando leant up to pinch his cheeks, while also grinning widely at him. as fernando's gaze lingered on max, he thought for a second that he had found out about the two of you, and was instead ready to pull him by the cheek in for a very obvious threat and kick to the balls.

"i must say," fernando began, his tone sincere, "you've shown remarkable resilience this season. much like myself. i hope to see you continue working hard for many years," his words carried a hint of approval.

max swallowed hard, his mind racing, as he opened his mouth to speak.

“i-i’m dating your daughter,” max’s heart pounded in his chest, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. fernando’s expression remained jubilant, but there was a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes. the air between them seemed to crackle with tension.

“i…i didn’t know she was seeing someone,” fernando said slowly, his voice low and controlled, as he waved to the crowd, whilst pulling max towards the other drivers. there was no denying the facts now – fernando knew about their relationship. and while max couldn’t read the older man’s thoughts, he felt a surge of nervous energy course through him. would this revelation change things? between him and fernando?

as if sensing his turmoil, fernando turned back around abruptly, causing max to jump slightly.

fernando studied max intently, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "but i'm glad to hear that it's you max. my daughter deserves nothing less than the best."

with those words, fernando extended his hand once more, this time with a newfound warmth that spoke volumes. max grasped it firmly, sealing a silent pact between them. as they released their grip, fernando placed a hand on max's shoulder, pulling him in. "but listen closely mijo," he said, still grinning but his voice low and conspiratorial, "you mess with my daughter, and i will not hesitate to run you off the track or run you over. if you care for her, then show her that she's your number one priority, both on and off the track."

max felt a chill run down his spine at fernando's warning, but he also sensed a strange kind of respect behind it. this was a man who protected his family fiercely, and max wanted nothing more than to earn his place within that circle.

"yes, sir," he replied fervently, meeting fernando's intense stare head-on. "she is my priority, always. i promise you, i'll do whatever it takes to make her happy and keep her safe." fernando studied him for a long moment, searching for any sign of doubt. finally, he gave a curt nod, releasing max's shoulder.

"alright then," he said, "just remember what i told you. and welcome to the family, officially." as fernando walked away, max took a deep breath, his mind already racing. he glanced around at the celebrating crowd, their faces alight with joy and admiration, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.

but more than anything, max yearned to share this moment with you, to bask in the glow of his victory together and celebrate the love that had sustained him throughout the season. max scanned the bustling crowd, his eyes searching for a glimpse of your familiar features amidst the sea of faces. spotting you lingering nervously near the red bull personnel, he pushed through the throng of people, making a beeline directly for you. as he drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the look of pure adoration etched across his handsome features. his dark hair was damp with sweat, his broad shoulders still trembling slightly from the exertion of the race. but his eyes shone brightly with triumph and something far warmer - his love for you.

"y/n!" he called out, his voice ringing above the din of the party. pulling you through the celebrating crowd, he wrapped you up in a crushing embrace, lifting you off your feet. you melted into his embrace, pouring every ounce of your joy, pride, and adoration into it.

your laughter mingled with the roar of the crowd as max set you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your waist. he gazed into your eyes, his own shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. in that moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a bubble of pure bliss.

"y/n," max whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "i did it. we did it." he pressed his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth of your skin and the closeness that came with sharing such an intimate moment.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer until your lips met in a searing kiss, pouring years of shared dreams and unspoken promises into that single, passionate gesture. the world around them melted away as max lost himself in the taste and feel of your lips, his body molding perfectly against yours. his hands roamed over your curves, tracing the contours he knew so well, as if mapping out the path to your heart.

when you finally broke apart, both panting for air, max rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shining with a mixture of triumph and tenderness. "i want to spend the rest of my life making you feel this way," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "i want to wake up every morning with you by my side and fall asleep every night in your arms."

he reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small velvet box that had been burning a hole there since the day he decided to propose. max dropped to one knee, his heart pounding in his chest as he gazed up at you with a look of pure adoration. the crowd around them seemed to hold its collective breath, the anticipation palpable in the air.

with trembling hands, max opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled within. the stone glittered under the bright lights of the track, casting glittering cascades of light across your face.

"y/n," max began, his voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him, "from the moment we met, you've been the driving force behind everything i've achieved. your love, support, and unwavering belief in me have pushed me to become the best version of myself, both on and off the track."

he paused, swallowing hard as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

"marry me," max breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "become my wife. let's race through life together because i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and no one else, i love you,"

with a shaky nod, you sank to your knees before him, cupping his face in your hands as you peppered his cheeks with tender kisses. "yes," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "a thousand times yes."

max slid the ring onto your finger, and pulling you up with him to your feet. spinning you around once more, your laughter ringing out like the sweetest melody. the crowd surged forward, enveloping you both in a sea of congratulations and well-wishes, their excitement nearly tangible in the air.

as the celebrations continued around them, max pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss that left no doubt about the depth of his love and commitment. in that moment, surrounded by the people who mattered most, max knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of victories, both on and off the track.

-> instagram

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername I LOVE LAS VEGAS BABYYYYY 😘 but in all honesty, i'm so so so proud of you max (more than words or actions could ever express). seeing you grow throughout the past four years into the champion you are today, is more than any gift i could ever receive. there were far more battles and challenges from this season, but you rose above them every time. you are a champion, both on and off the racetrack and you will never be alone in this world, as long as i'm here. keep them coming baby. i love you, forever and always 🧡

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen1 i love you very much schatje, thank you for always being there for me 😘

fernandoalo_oficial i am very happy for the both of you 😁👍

yourusername thank you papa ☺️ promise me you wont shunt into max next race? fernandoalo_oficial no promises sorry princessa 🤭

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, francolapinto, yourusername and others

maxverstappen1 four time world champion baby!!! a season full of challenges, but with the support, dedication and the effort of the team, this result would not have been possible 🙌 a huge thank you to all involved for this incredible achievement 👏

and i just want to say the biggest thank you to the love of my life, my girlfriend of four years, and now my fiancee, y/n alonso. i love you so much, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you (even if your dad wants to run me over now)

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername i love you more than anything else in this world maxie 🧡

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© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[rafesbangs]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ frat!rafe decides to participate in no nut november, you disappove... strongly.

summary: in leu of it being november... rafe and his buddies (idiotically) challenge each other to nnn and you do your best to make your boyfriend lose because you cant stand the stupid juvenile game.

warnings: MDNI ! 18+ ! no nut november. male testosterone (ew), fratboy idiocy, topper and kelce (ew), spoiler! unprotected sex, hj, size kink, strong language, use of the nickname 'rafey' and 'baby' (bcs when do i not), kinda mean!rafe ?, kinda plot, kinda smut... yay!

wc: 2k

a/n: hoping this will get me out of my writers block... (its really bad) but tbf i just moved into my new apartment !yay! so hopefully when i'm not tired as hell and feeling broke from the deposit, i'll write regularly again <3

you had tolerated a lot of stupid shit that rafe and his idiot friends would get up to when they were together. especially when they were together, drunk and unsupervised. last night was the same as any other, but your boyfriend, topper and kelce had concocted an idea that put most other idiot ideas they've had to shame.

of course topper birthed the idea in the first place, he wasn't currently getting some anyway. his girlfriend, whom you actually found to be super bitchy, had just dumped him for some older dude that had dropped out long ago. everyone tried to tell him he was better off without ruthie because of how much of a raging cunt she was but he just decided to make his miserable attitude everyone's problem, leading to this stupid bet.

you can easily surmise how it came to be, one too many beers and topper starts talking about how he's better than kelce and rafe because he's not getting any and he can 'handle it like a man'. whatever that means. of course kelce and rafe in their drunken stupor don't enjoy their masculinity being threatened, so all reason goes out the window and they all bet each other $100 they can do no nut november.

the next morning of course, your boyfriend instantly realised what a stupid fucking idea it was the second he saw you making breakfast for the two of you in just panties and one of his t-shirts. he wanted to take you right there on the kitchen floor of your apartment but he couldn't. it's not like he didn't have 100s to spare, he just didn't want to back out of the bet so early and embarrass himself in front of his frat brothers.

though you would argue that the bet itself is doing a lot of embarrassing him on its own. when he had begrudgingly rejected three advances you'd made towards him, you finally caught on.

instead of smacking him 'round the head like you wanted to, you came up with a much better idea that unfortunately for rafe consisted of him losing $100 but consisted of you actually getting laid this month. because fuck that noise, you didn't agree to involuntarily joining in on no nut november.

you began to walk around in your best lingere, with one of his big t-shirts on too, though that definitely only turned him on more. next was wearing tiny pieces of clothing that left little to the imagination whilst always putting yourself in compromising situations; dropping things in front of him, getting 'stuck', spilling things on yourself... basically anything because if he was gonna do something stupid then you were gonna make him reap the consequences.

it was late at night when he'd finally had enough. a huge exam was looming and he'd had no proper way to let off steam for almost the entire month, you 'whoring' around the apartment didn't help either. so when you'd slipped into bed in one of your best lacey sets with a glossy smile, he'd just scowled at you before grabbing you and pressing his lips to yours hungrily.

"you're such a fucking slut" he growled between your lips, his hands desperately gripping wherever they could on your body. you were sat pressed up against the headboard of your bed, thighs haphazardly spread with his body forced between them. you didn't reply, just smiled and groaned into the rough kisses.

he parted his lips from yours and grabbed your throat roughly with one of his hands, anger but also desperation was seeping from his expression. you were, admittedly, a little afraid. rafe would never purposely hurt you but, he was extremely built and towered over you, though rough sex was kinda your thing.

you almost shook off the slight fear in your face before smiling at him again, realising you'd already won. this was a point of no return, the way he was biting his bottom lip in frustration, the heavy breathing in an attempt to control himself, he had unraveled already.

without a word he hooked a finger under your panties and yanked them down forcefully, you giggled at the action and helped him pull them off from around your ankles. he shook his head before kissing down your stomach, he knew you'd won and he'd given into you, that he'd be surrendering a crisp $100 to his asshole friends.

but a smirk stretched across his face as he tugged his pants down too in front of you, "you won baby, i lost no nut november.."

you grinned proudly as you lay back, your legs spread waiting for him to slowly sink his length into you.

in one swift motion, his arm slid under the small of your back as his huge cock plowed all the way into your sopping pussy, "- but we'll see who's really winning when you can't walk tomorrow." an evil smile was strewn across his face now as he mercilessly snapped his hips against yours, ignoring your cries at how he was too big.

he wasn't a complete asshole, he knew your pussy would relax around his length and soon you'd grasp around his neck, moving your hips in sync with his.

rafe hadn't realised just how pent up he was until he felt himself nearly coming undone multiple times, the way you were tightly squeezing around his dick didn't help either.

his eyebrows were permanently stitched together as his hands dug into your hips, still ploughing deep into you.

"fuck baby, fuuckk baby. this pussy loves me s'much huh? couldn't jus' let me be forra single month." his tip kissed your cervix multiple times and you could've cum a number of times, but vowed to not give in before him as you could feel his strokes becoming increasingly sloppy.

his face screwed up and he let his bangs hang messily over his face, not bothering to run a hand through his hair anymore. he was about to spill into you, and you were unravelling too, "you about to come in me rafey? please, fuck- give it to me-"

his eyes rolled back at your words, finally slowing he painted your crimson walls with thick ropes of cum, groaning gutturally the entire time.

"fucking hell. that creampie was just worth $100 baby." he scoffed, shaking his head a little, "'nd it was worth every fuckin' dollar." he half-collapsed on top of you, kissing your forehead, all while still inside of you.

"you'd better go tell topper and kelce then" you grinned mischievously.

[totalswag]

Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!

I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕

bed chem ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.

warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.

Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.

At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.

Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.

You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.

He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.

To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.

Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.

You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.

You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.

Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.

Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body. 

Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.

"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."

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[czasem-pedalujemy]

i used to listen to their podcast but am not in the fandom right now so not knowing i went to watch the clip in question and, well, this whole situation is so frustrating. Because yes, he may be kinda cringe sometimes and is personally my least favourite of them, but the rant was actually good i belive.or at least. understandable. like; yes he frased things in a awkward way maybe but he was correct. when playing a social game like werewolfs, mafia or indeed among us voting for someone just to troll them when they are deeply invested in a game can be so infuriating (i for example wouldn't want to play with that group anymore). like. we are all playing play pretend why are you bullying me for being invested in the game. nobody would have this reaction to him having this rant if some random shit happened in their ttrpg campaign that was bad for his character and they made it canon "because it was funny and just a game and why are you so invested in this bro". and even worse he cant walk away from the game without explanation in that moment because he's on stream and playing games with people is literally what hes in that moment there to do. idk maybe i also get too invested in these kind of games so i relate to this reaction, even if i agree with people that calling someone a Bad Person for playing the game wrong is out of touch with reality. I also belive that his blood was boiling and everyone was laughing and he (like others said) had a meltdown and generalising the situation was the only way to explain to people (and maybe himself) the reaction he was having

really fucking sucks that the catalyst for the mcelroy brothers' "downfall" was when one of them *checks notes* displayed symptoms of the mental illness he was very open about, in a way that was deeply embarrassing but ultimately pretty harmless

[lvnleah]

when three becomes four.

we have another baby Williamson! 🥹

find the series masterlist here!

July 2028 | 4 years old. 

“Alright! A bowl of popcorn for you, bubba,” Leah smiled as she came into the living, two bowls of popcorn in her arms. “And a bowl for me and Mummy!”

“Thank you, Mumma!” Finley smiled and cuddled into your side as Leah handed him a bowl of popcorn. 

You ran your hand over your swollen stomach that Finley was currently resting his head on, “Oh thank you, love! Baby girl is going to love this.”

“Anything for my loves,” Leah said, plopping down on the sofa on the other side of Finley. “What film should we watch, bubba?”

“Erm…” Finley began, scrunching his little face in concentration as he thought. “Toy Story 3!” he declared confidently, glancing up at you with his blue eyes. 

You smiled softly, placing a hand on Finley’s curls. “That sounds perfect.”

Leah chuckled as she grabbed the remote. “Toy Story it is then. Great choice, bubba.” She leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head before turning her attention to the TV. The opening credits started rolling, and the familiar tune filled the room, bringing an instant sense of comfort.

Finley snuggled closer to your bump. You were currently 36 weeks pregnant and due in mid-August. You and Leah had decided to start IVF for baby number two right after Finley had turned three. 

You still had embryos left over from when you had your transfer with Finley so the process was easier than last time. It was agreed you would carry the baby after a lot of thought. You were anxious about being pregnant again because of how bad your pregnancy with Finley was but you knew no two pregnancies were the same. 

The first transfer was scheduled for early August and unfortunately, that transfer didn’t work. You and Leah were both heartbroken, convinced that it was going to work the first time like it did with Finley. After a lot of tears and days spent in bed, you agreed to try again in November. 

The two-week wait came with a lot of anxiety. You were both anxious that it wasn’t going to work and that you’d have to try again which you didn’t want to do. Two weeks before Christmas you took your first test, it was a very strong positive after you had delayed taking the tests for a few days. 

You and Leah couldn’t believe that it worked and were excited to become parents again. The first few months were filled with uncertainty and worry. The first few weeks were filled with morning sickness but nothing compared to how it was with Finley. 

As the weeks passed, your pregnancy progressed smoothly, much to your relief. The regular check-ups and scans were reassuring, and the anticipation of welcoming your baby girl in mid-August grew stronger. 

Finley’s excitement about becoming a big brother was always evident. He often talked about all the things he would do with his new sibling and made sure everyone knew that he was going to be a big brother. You both made sure to involve him in preparations for the baby, taking him to scans which he loved doing. 

Finley wiggled a bit, getting more comfortable against your belly. “When baby comes, I’ll show her all my toys! Do you think she’ll like Buzz Lightyear? Or Woody?”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Leah, both of you trying not to get too emotional at his sweetness. “I think she’ll love whatever you show her, sweetheart. She’s going to be so lucky to have you as her big brother.”

Leah nodded in agreement. “You’re going to teach her all the best things, aren’t you buddy?”

Finley nodded excitedly, “Yeah! I teach her to be a little Gooner, just like I am!”

“That’s it, bubba!” Leah smiled, high-fiving him, “We aren’t gonna let Uncle Jacob turn her into a stinky spurs supporter are we?”

“No way!” Finley shook his head in disgust, “Gonner all the way.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You’ve got him brainwashed.”

Leah shrugged, “What can I say, he supports the best team in North London. He’s a clever boy.”

Finley’s hand instinctively rested on your belly again. You could feel your baby girl shifting slightly beneath his touch, a giggle escaping him as she kicked against his hand. 

As the movie continued, Finley’s energy started to fade. His popcorn bowl sat half-eaten on his lap, and his eyelids drooped as he fought to stay awake. By the time the movie was halfway through, Finley was fast asleep, his head still resting on your bump. 

Leah smiled, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead. “He’s so excited to be a big brother.”

You nodded, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you. “He really is. I just hope the transition is smooth for him.”

Leah leaned over and placed a kiss on your temple. “He’ll be fine, he’ll be the best big brother ever. He loves his baby sister already.”

For a while, you both sat in the quiet comfort of the moment, the soft sounds of the movie playing in the background, and Finley’s steady breathing filling the space between you. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt perfectly still like time itself had paused to let you savour the simplicity of this life you had built together.

As the movie ended and the credits rolled, Leah carefully scooped Finley into her arms, cradling him against her chest. “I’ll put him to bed,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching her carry him down the hall, a smile tugging at your lips. When she came back she laid down beside your bump, now getting her own time with her baby girl.

“Hi baby peanut,” Leah smiled as she placed a kiss on your bump, “we’re so excited to meet you, Bubba. I think your brother is the most excited out of us all.”

You smiled, your hand playing with Leah’s hair, “He’s dying to meet her, I can’t believe he won’t be our only baby anymore.”

“It’ll feel weird having two kids after just having Finley for four years. It'll be fun,” Leah said, “Won’t it, baby peanut?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two weeks later, at 38 weeks pregnant, the day began as usual, though you had pains all morning. You had decided not to worry too much, thinking they were just Braxton Hicks, and so you proceeded with your plan for the day. After dropping Finley off at Amanda’s for the day, you headed out for a relaxing date day with Leah.

You both enjoyed a quiet brunch at your favourite café, soaking in the peaceful time together before the baby arrived. Leah had her hand on your belly most of the time, and now and then, the baby gave her a little kick in response, making you both smile. 

You took a bite of your pastry, but suddenly paused, your hand instinctively moving to your belly as a contraction rolled through. You let out a slow breath, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

Leah immediately noticed. “Are you okay, pretty girl? That looked like more than just the usual Braxton Hicks.”

You smiled, trying to downplay the discomfort. “I’m fine. I’ve been having them on and off all morning. It’s nothing serious.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm, I don’t know. They seem more frequent today. Are you sure it’s not early labour?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “We’ve still got a couple of weeks. It’s just my body getting ready.”

Leah smiled, rubbing small circles over your belly. “Well, tell baby girl to take it easy on you, yeah? We’re trying to enjoy our last date before she gets here.”

Just as you started to respond, another contraction hit, and this time it made you pause, gripping the edge of the table for a moment. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to stay calm.

Leah’s eyes widened, her concern growing. “Babe… that one looked pretty intense. Maybe we should head home, just to be safe. I don’t want to be sitting here when it actually starts.”

You shook your head again, but this time your tone was more serious. “It’s okay, Leah, really. They’re not that close together yet. Besides, we’ve been looking forward to this day all week. I don’t want to cut it short just because of a few contractions.”

Leah sighed, sitting back slightly but keeping her hand on your belly. “Alright, but I’m keeping an eye on you. You need to tell me if it gets worse. I’m serious.”

You smiled, reaching over to give her a kiss. “I promise. You’ll be the first to know.”

Leah smiled against your lips. “Good. Because I’m not letting you give birth in a café.”

You both laughed, the tension easing a little as the contraction faded. Leah leaned forward again, her hand still resting protectively on your belly. “But seriously, it’s crazy that we’re so close to meeting her. Any day now.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of emotion. “I know. I can’t believe it’s happening so soon. I feel like we were just doing this with Finley.”

Leah’s face softened. “Finley’s so excited.”

“He really is,” you agreed. “I can’t wait to see him as a big brother. He’s going to be amazing.”

Leah smiled, her eyes bright with excitement. “And you, pretty girl, are amazing too. You’re handling this so well, even with the contractions starting up. I mean, look at you, still eating your croissant like a champ.”

You laughed, taking another bite. “A girl’s gotta eat, right?”

Leah chuckled. “Just promise me that if they start getting more intense, we head home. I know you want to stay, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

You nodded, appreciating her concern. “I promise. If it gets too much, we’ll go. But for now, let’s just enjoy this time together.”

Leah smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Deal. Now, what do you want to do after this? Walk in the park? Or maybe head to that bookstore you love?”

“I like the sound of the park,” you said, your hand subconsciously rubbing your belly. “Fresh air might help with these contractions.”

Leah gave you a knowing smile, but didn’t push the matter further. “Alright, the park it is. Let’s make the most of this date while we still can.”

You had a walk around the park, stopping every so often because of your contractions before heading to pick Finley up.

“Le, can we stop for a moment,” you breathed as you walked down Amanda’s path, “Another…contraction.”

Leah instantly turned towards you, concern filling her eyes. “Of course, pretty girl. Here, lean on me.” She wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting you as you focused on breathing through the contraction. 

The pain intensified for a moment, and you clenched your jaw, gripping her arm as you tilted your head back. Leah rubbed soothing circles on your back, murmuring softly, “You’re doing so good, love. Just breathe through it.”

After a few moments, the contraction subsided, and you let out a deep breath, standing a little straighter. “Okay. That one was a bit stronger,” you admitted, trying to smile through the discomfort. 

Leah gave you a soft, worried look. “We might need to rethink this whole ‘it's just Braxton Hicks’ theory. These are getting stronger.”

Before you could respond, the front door of Amanda’s house opened, and there stood Amanda, Leah’s mum, a knowing smile on her face. She quickly scanned the scene—your hands resting on your belly, the way Leah was supporting you, and the tension still evident on your face.

“Amanda,” you said, trying to sound casual, “I think baby girl might be coming soon.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Might be? From the looks of it, darling, she’s not wasting any time.” She gave Leah a pointed glance. “You two need to head home or to the hospital, not my driveway.”

Leah nodded, looking more convinced by the second. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

Amanda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Finley will be fine with me, I have all of his stuff already. You need to head to the hospital.”

Another contraction started to build, and Leah gently helped you sit on the edge of the bench outside of Amanda’s. “I really think it’s time, love,” she said softly. “Let’s say bye to Finley, and we can call the midwife on the way there.”

You nodded, finally starting to accept that this might really be the beginning of labour. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s head to the hospital.”

A few minutes later, Amanda emerged with Finley. Finley ran up to you with his typical boundless energy. 

“Is baby sister coming?” he asked, his big blue eyes filled with curiosity and excitement.

You smiled, reaching out to gently ruffle his hair. “It looks like she might be, Finn. You be good for Nana yeah?”

Finley nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I promise, Nana Finley sleepover!”

Leah chuckled, picking him up and balancing him on her hip. “We know you will, buddy. You’re going to be the best big brother.”

Amanda gave you a warm hug. “Call me if you need anything. Now go bring that baby into the world," Amanda smiled warmly. "Finley will be just fine here with me."

As you and Leah finally decided to make your way to the hospital, the excitement and anticipation started to settle in. Leah helped you into the car, buckling you in gently as you focused on breathing through another contraction. The ride was a blur of adrenaline and tenderness, Leah’s hand never leaving your thigh as she drove, calling the midwife to let her know what was happening.

“We’ll be there soon, pretty girl. Just keep breathing,” Leah reassured you, her voice calm despite the growing intensity of the moment.

The hospital was ready for your arrival, and as you were checked in, the midwife confirmed that you were in active labour. Your baby girl was on her way. Time seemed to pass in waves—some moments felt slow and agonising, while others moved too fast, but through it all, Leah never left your side.

You were six centimetres when you arrived and you took the epidural as soon as you could. You managed to nap for a bit and when you woke up again it was time for the midwife to check you again. 

“You’ll be happy to know you’re at ten centimetres,” She smiled as she took off her gloves and threw them into the bin. “I’ll go get my colleagues and you can start pushing. Almost time to meet your baby girl!” 

Leah squeezed your hand, her eyes wide with excitement and a hint of nervousness. “Did you hear that, pretty girl? It’s time. We’re going to meet our girl soon.”

You nodded, a wave of emotion rushing over you. The months of anticipation, the moments of uncertainty, and now you were here, ready to bring your daughter into the world. The room buzzed with activity as the midwives prepared, but all you could focus on was Leah, her steady hand in yours, and the fact that you were going to meet your baby girl soon 

The midwife returned, this time with more nurses and doctors, and they all smiled reassuringly. “Alright, darling, when the next contraction comes, we’ll start pushing. You’re doing great.”

You looked at Leah, taking a deep breath. “We’re ready for this, right?”

Leah kissed your forehead, “We are so ready. You’re going to do amazing, just like with Finley.”

As the contraction began, you bore down, gripping Leah’s hand tightly. Time seemed to blur again, each push bringing you closer to meeting your daughter. Leah’s encouragement never stopped, her voice a distraction from the pain and effort.

“You’re almost there,” the midwife said, her tone filled with excitement. “One more big push.”

With every ounce of strength left in you, you gave one final push, and then, the room was filled with the sound of your baby’s first cry. Tears welled in your eyes as the midwife lifted your daughter, placing her on your chest.

“She’s here,” Leah whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she leaned in to kiss you. “Our little girl.”

You looked down at the tiny, baby girl on your chest. She was much smaller than Finley was and had a large set of lungs on her from the sound of the cry that she produced. You couldn’t believe she was finally here.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her soft head as Leah wrapped an arm around both of you. “I can’t believe it. She’s actually here.”

Leah looked down at your daughter, her eyes brimming with happy tears. “She’s more than perfect. You did it, pretty girl. You did it. Oh my gosh, she looks so much like Finley!”

The midwives busied themselves with cleaning up and checking on the baby, but for that moment, it was just the three of you, cocooned in a bubble of pure joy. Your family had grown, and soon, Finley would meet his baby sister, the little girl he’d been so excited to love and protect.

And just like that, your family was complete for now. Eloise had completed your family. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The first night with baby Eloise, or Ellie as you’d nicknamed her, went smoothly. You both knew what to expect so you both found the night feeds fairly easy. 

As the soft light of the morning sun filled the hospital room, you stirred to the sound of tiny cries from Ellie’s bassinet. Leah was still half-asleep beside you, but her eyes fluttered open at the same sound.

“Morning, love,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she sat up to check on Ellie. “Looks like someone’s hungry.”

You nodded, gently pulling yourself up and reaching for your baby girl. She was so tiny in your arms, her little face scrunched up as she made soft noises. Leah watched with a smile as you settled Ellie to feed her, her tiny hands clutching at your skin.

“She’s so beautiful,” Leah whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you settled into her side. “It still doesn’t feel real. We’re parents of two now.”

You laughed softly, “I know. I keep looking at her and just thinking, ‘she’s ours’ she actually belongs to us, Le.”

A knock at the door interrupted your moment, and a nurse stepped in with a warm smile. “Good morning, mamas. How are you feeling today? And how’s baby girl doing?”

“We’re good,” Leah replied, glancing down at you and Ellie. “She’s feeding really well, and so far, it’s been a smooth night.”

The nurse nodded approvingly. “That’s great to hear. We’ll do another check on her in a bit, but you both seem to be settling in wonderfully. Do you need anything right now? Some breakfast, maybe?”

You smiled. “Breakfast would be amazing, thank you.”

As the nurse left, Leah leaned over and kissed your temple. “I’ll text Mum and let her know she can bring Finley by in a couple of hours. He’s going to be over the moon when he meets Ellie.”

The thought of Finley meeting his baby sister made your heart race with excitement. He had been talking nonstop about his baby sister. You could already picture his wide eyes and the way he would gently touch her tiny hands, just like he did with your belly.

A couple of hours later, after you both had eaten and Ellie had been checked over by the doctors, the door to your room swung open, and in rushed Finley, his little feet pattering excitedly on the floor.

“Mummy! Mumma!” he called out, his eyes wide with anticipation as Amanda trailed behind him. “I missed ‘ou! Baby sissy here?”

Leah crouched down, holding her arms out to him. “She’s here, bubba! Do you want to meet your baby sister?”

Finley nodded eagerly, his curls bouncing as he ran to Leah, who lifted him up and carried him over to the bed where you and Ellie were waiting. His little face lit up the moment he saw her.

“She’s so tiny!” he whispered, his voice full of awe as he gazed at his new sister, who was bundled up and sleeping peacefully.

You smiled, holding Ellie close as Finley leaned in for a closer look. “This is your baby sister, Ellie,” you said softly. “You want to say hi?”

Finley reached out gently, his little hand brushing against Ellie’s tiny fist. “Hi, Ellie,” he whispered. “I’m your big brother, Finley!”

Leah grinned, her eyes misty with tears as she stood beside you. “She’s so lucky to have you, bubba.”

Finley looked up at you both, “I love her! She’s so cute and tiny!”

”Oh she’s absolutely gorgeous,” Amanda whispered, “Doesn’t she look Finley?”

“She does,” Leah smiled, “Do you want to know her full name?” Leah asked, getting a nod from Amanda, “Her name is Eloise Amanda Williamson but we’re calling her Ellie for short.”

Amanda's eyes welled with tears as she heard her name, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "Eloise Amanda… that’s such a beautiful name. I’m honoured." 

Leah gave her a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her. "We wanted to honour you, Mum. You’ve been there for us every step of the way."

Finley continued to look down at his baby sister, mesmerised by her every little movement. "Can I hold her, Mummy?" he asked. 

You smiled, glancing at Leah, who nodded. "Of course you can, Fin. Let’s get you set up," Leah said softly, guiding him to sit beside you on the bed. She gently helped him cradle Ellie in his arms, her tiny head resting against his chest.

Finley’s face lit up with a smile as he held his little sister, his small hands carefully supporting her. "She’s so little, Mummy," he whispered.

You smiled, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them together. "She is, but she’ll grow big and strong just like you!”

Leah sat beside you, her hand resting on your thigh, her gaze never leaving Finley and Ellie. "We’ve got our two little loves, right here," she said quietly, her voice filled with emotion.

And with that, the next chapter of your life as a family of four officially began.

[thoughfullovercreator]

Sorry not sorry. But some people need to read this.

Tw: when I am employing the word « delusional » I am not referring to the medical definition of it.

What I am going to be saying is going to be disliked by some. But I don’t care.

I am going to be talking right now about a phenomenon that I’ve been seeing ever since I started reading mangas and watching anime’s and it has always bothered me.

And guess what ? I am not the only one being bothered by that, which reassures me.

The problem is the following:

Each time there’s a genuine friendship between two male characters or even two females in a manga/anime, people dirty it by gluing on it, their own fantasies and making it somewhat romantic/sexual, by inventing a « sexual tension » between these protagonists.

Always happens in the anime/manga universe.

…and I am going to tell you why it’s a problem/bothersome situation for many :

The problem is that it renders the story less deep and genuine and more people are influenced in thinking that, a male character, by being nice to another male (same for females), is romantic or whatever.

Like some of y’all are sexualising everything. Get it together !

This is, most of the time (actually 99% of the time but okay), LITTERALY delusion because the authors have never, ever meant for their characters to be viewed as anything but genuine friends/acquaintances..

It distorts the story for nothing and, in my opinion, it is disrespectful to the creators of the manga, to just take their characters and create a quiproquo on it. Sorry not sorry to say it.

As an example, let me take the « Dazai x Chuuya » fans.

The readers go as far as to totally disregard the fact that, Dazai, since literally the first episode, has implied that he was not attracted to guys. On top of that, he’s kinda depicted as the guy who likes women. Never ever was anything that would make him attracted to Chuuya as a male.

(It also happens for JJK and others… )

Therefore, you’re disregarding the genuine and complex aspects of a potential friendship and understanding between them, to glue on it what you would have wished it to be : a romantic or sexual attraction. It’s a projection of what YOU would have WANTED it to be.

It is actually immoral to distort a character’s sexuality like what ?! It becomes a habit and people do it also for celebrities. It’s kinda going too far.

It’s not for you to decide.

When it’s « not a big deal » for some, it could actually represent a big deal for many. And make many people uncomfortable.

Respectfully :

You wanna do your fanfics ? NO PROBLEM really ! be our guests ! but do it in the context of a fanfic, after putting on a disclaimer, as a respectful gesture for the creators behind mangas !

(On the other hand, when people write « character x reader », it doesn’t distorts the original story cuz Y/N just doesn’t exist).

BUT rubbing it down our throats without any context as if it was a general truth provided by the creators, that « these characters are in love/sexually attracted to one another » NO. Keep it for yourself or your group of friends if y’all agree on it.

Again, many many people feel as uncomfortable as me regarding this. It’s kinda also getting out of hands.

It’s getting out of hands especially when I see fandoms like the Black butler fandom where they imagine a « sexual tension » between Sebastian that is an adult and Ciel that is 13 !

Like it or not. I am not sorry for being respectful and realistic.

Some decency is needed :

Not everything is okay with what people are doing on the internet. You can have your « dirty thoughts » but don’t expose them, not everyone wishes to hear about it. Some things have to stay between you and yourself.

Kids/ teens :

And kids/teens (all those below 18) y all need to get off your phone a little and go play outside or meet your friends (for teens ig) if you don’t wanna end up in depression at an early age or with extremely poor social skills.

At least take a real book like ones at the school library and learn things. Instead of learning how to .. by reading explicit content cuz you never listen when we tell you that a certain one shot is +18.

Again, I am not sorry. I am pissed.

[b0njourbeach]

NRC LGBTQIA+ HCs

Those are only my thoughts and you can agree with them but you don't have to. We are all different and have our own visions. I'm quite willing to discuss or explain my visions - If you're being polite enough, I've got no time for drama. I will use He/Him for everyone - no matter what I have as a HC - because of the canon and it might be confusing for others (I, for one, often have to take a "Wait, why she?"-moment until I realize it's a HC.)

Riddle Rosehearts

He waits for the "right woman" that would "please his mothers wish". After meeting the students in NRC, especially Cater, he is curious and questioning his previous thought about being Cis/Het. Might find interest in all pronouns. I could also see him having to be more feminine because his mother wanted a girl (which could imply him having trouble with gender as a whole).

Ace Trappola

I think it's canon that he's not too fond of romantic love, so I do believe he'd be most comfortable seeing himslf as aromantic. As for the rest: He's your average cis male teenager who makes too many dick jokes for his lack of experience (but would consider himself as allosexual). Will throw hands and sees it as an insult if you call him a girl tho.

Deuce Spade

Like Mother, like son - Both Spades are bisexual in my eyes. Deuce used to be homophobic in his delinquent times but changed for the better (and realized that he disliked the idea of gay people because they "always look so happy"). Had multiple "What if"s regarding his gender (Including asking Mama Spade to treat him like her daughter for a bit, so Deuce could get a feeling for it) but it felt too weird, so he still identifies himself with his assigned gender (male) at birth - But doesn't mind it if people use they/them for him. Would be your average nervous Teenager when it comes to showing affection in any way and will blush brightly at the topic of naughty stuff.

Trey Clover

Didn't give it much thought ("If I like a person, I like them" type of mindset but had no particular romantic feelings before) before entering NRC - Where he had his first guy crush which rocked his world a little. Constantly questioning "Am I gay, bi or pan?", but his first and only crush doesn't really help and is actually the reason for his questioning in the first place. Hasn't come out at all and doesn't plan on it because he grew up that the genders of people in a relationship doesn't matter and his parents would support him as long as he's happy. "I was born as a guy, so I'm a guy, I guess. I don't really care if you use she/her for me. It'll be just a bit confusing for me at first" type of guy. After one of the night talks with Cater, he got curious about poly-relationships.

Cater Diamond

Many thoughts on his guy, many possibilities but this one story I have planned made me like the idea of trans-male Cater a lot (Mainly He/Him but doesn't mind They/Them). Funnily enough, I can also see Cater as genderfluid slaying person - That's what I mean when I say there's a lot of potential. Has too many trust and commitment issues to think of any type of relationship but he's still a bisexual king. If I had to describe a bisexual, it would be him. Wouldn't say no to a potential poly-relationship but is also intimidated by the idea because of his mental issues. Sees a lot of benefits in poly-relationships. I wouldn't be surprised if he had hooked up with someone before. Despite it all, he flirts as if his life depends on it (Which is, at least in jp, somewhat canon).

Leona Kingscholar

"I'm a guy" ahh male (in an unbothered way, not the toxic way. He's surprised if someone asks for his pronouns but respects the person just a tiny bit more for caring enough to ask in the first place). While I do believe it is hard for him to actually love someone to begin with, I'm convinced of Omniromantic and -sexual Leona.

Ruggie Bucchi

"My gender is whatever gets the job done." Based on irl hyenas, it isn't impossible for Ruggie to not be AMAB (The genitalia of a female hyena are very similar to those of a male. It led on multiple occasions to zoos attempting to breed two male hyenas). So if a job requires him to dress in drag and dance the hoola, Ruggie will do so. In theory bisexual but is too busy for actual relationships. Would absolutely come up with the wildest neopronuns to piss off Karens though.

Jack Howl

He definitely questioned himself as a young pup, especially after meeting Vil because he thought he might have a crush on him but he was proven wrong later on. Definitely one of the few straight guys in NRC. The more genderqueer people he meets, the more worried he gets about peoples pronouns because he used to be the type to look at a person and guess based on whatever vibes they give off. Now he doesn't know which pronouns to use, so he often uses they/them unless told otherwise (Has a non-verbal pact with Deuce to let each other know what kind of pronouns people have - if the other person knows).

Azul Ashengrotto

I'm making this based on irl male octopi and their nature of dying after having sex for the first and only time: So with that in mind, I do believe that Azul wouldn't want to be sexually active at all (That and his insecuities aboout his body would probably stop him too). I definitely picture him as a helpless romantic once he does fall for a person, though (demiromantic maybe?). Definitely ne for the males, both his gender and his potential partner. He has absolutely questioned his gender and maybe even secretly owns a floor-length dress he wears in his room when his mind wanders off to question potential genders again.

Jade Leech

I will never not talk about AroAce Jade. I could write an essay about AroAce Jade but I won't. Just yes. Could potentially be bi-gender though. Likes to mess with people "You think I'm a guy? Is this not a little too narrow minded? ... What? Oh no, I'm not a woman."

Floyd Leech

Raging homosexual. His type? "If he can rock my bottom, I'm vibing", but his potential boyfriend needs to be able to keep up with his nature. Only his boyfriend sees a rare soft and sweet side from time to time, trust. (I've seen people have the HC of Floyd being a She/Her lesbian and I personally can only see it if we're talking about genderbend Floyd but I'm not here to comment on other people's HCs. I just wanted to mention my sight on genderbend Floyd too). Is a He/Him guy but wore dresses and skirts before but only very wide ones or the type that have a deep cut in it - For free legs (It's canon that he doesn't like tight clothes, so I'm working this into the HC.)

Kalim Al-Asim

"I'm a guy but I can be your big sister too, if you want to haha!" Would absolutely dress feminine if he feels like it. Likes to dance in very fancy and wide dresses and skirts because they look pretty when you do a twirl. Also very pansexual, just wants to love.

Jamil Viper

Is used to dress up feminine because Najma makes him wear her clothes sometimes, so she can see if it looks any good. Much like Ruggie, doesn't care about gender as long as it gets the job done and has been often enough addressed as a girl (Especially if the person saw Jamil only from behind) to stop caring about pronouns. Has many reasons not to want to be in a relationship but swings both ways in theory.

Vil Schoenheit

Gender? "Yes." Did you expect anything less than all genders for THE Vil Schoenheit? Come on now. Extremely demisexual and -romantic. Clothes have no gender (his canon statement, Book 5), so he has worn all types of clothes with confidence and comfort.

Rook Hunt

Lithromantic (Basically: Attraction exists until the target of your affection likes you back). Gender doesn't matter for a partner or Rook, but "it/its" pronouns are extremely interesting to the Hunter.

Epel Felmier

Homophobic, both internal and external. "I'm a man!" but in the toxic way. I see trans-male Epel HCs (and justify his dislike of "girly" things with that) a lot and I really like them as well but the idea of this toxic cis-het white guy Epel is much more entertaining to me - Let this guy be annoying for the sake of being annoying, not everything needs an emotional reason :> He's a little fruit tho even if he denies it (I mean, he's in Pomefiore for a reason /hj).

Idia Shroud

"I don't do love, I don't do sex, I don't do gender. Do not perceive me." Tbh I dont have any particular HCs for Idia, I just go with whatever I see in media, if it works out with my interpretation of Idia ofc. I don't believe that Idia would be quick to love though (especially after Eliza).

Ortho Shroud

Again, I don't have many HCs on my own but I've seen both trans-male and trans-female Ortho HCs and I like 'em both.

Malleus Draconia

Knows he needs to bring up an heir eventually but hasn't found the right person yet. Isn't exactly sure about his own sexuality but is certain he'll know once he finds "the right person". Is a little confused by "new" genders, so he just settles with the classic He/Him for himself - Tries his best to respect Neopronouns and trans folk. Will ask a lot of questions if you come out to him as anything that is not your assigned gender - Both out of curiosity and because he doesn't want to mess up. Has been raised to be supportive through Lilia.

Lilia Vanrouge

Man, Woman, prefer not to say, Other, Croissant - It's all Lilias. You're a Non-Binary person? Lilia absorbs whatever your assigned gender at birth was. You're trans? Lilia will trade your assigned gender with whatever you identify as. It's also pretty much canon that he's bisexual, so there's that - I'm pretty sure he hesitates about relationships due to his previous experiences with Meleanor and Raverne. Has definitely made out with Baul when they were younger.

Silver

When you ask Silver what he likes, he'll tell you about his sword (the object, not a naughty reference to his genitalia). If you'll correct yourself and mean as in a person, he'll tell you that he doesn't care what the gender of his opponent in a battle is - He just hopes they'll good enough to help him learn how to improve his skills. In short: His duties and interests matter to Silver much more than something like love or sexual intercourse. (Same applies if you ask about his own gender: "I'm.. a guy? But I don't see where this matters right now.")

Sebek Zigvolt

Used to be a raging homophobe until Lilia sat him down and had a looong talk with him. "I'm not queer", proceeds to explain how overrated the concept of love is and how his duties should never be interrupted by something as trivial as romantic relationships (He doesn't get that this mindset has a lot of AroAce weight in it - which means he's queer). He's overall a little confused, but he's got the spirit. Will correct people very loudly if they misgender his friends or close ones. Will also regularly ask Lilia in the morning what kind of pronoun-day is (Lilia has considered to wear different colored bracelets, so Sebek doesn't have to ask every morning.)

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 16: CUPID'S CHOKEHOLD

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

His touch ignites something within you - a spark of desire you've been trying to suppress for far too long. The want in you hurts. The frustration, the anger, the tenderness, it all boils within the core of you. It’s all coming to a head.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: mentions of pregnancy, angst, dom!reader, sub!satoru, handjobs, riding, teasing, light degradation, dacryphilia, vaginal sex

ੈ✩ wc: 8.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: happy thanksgiving yall can stop threatening me with bombs now

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

December, 2011

The crisp December air nips at your cheeks as you lead Megumi and Tsumiki down the bustling street. Christmas decorations twinkle in shop windows. You pull your scarf tighter, glancing back to make sure the children are keeping up.

Megumi trudges along, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his expression as serious as ever. Tsumiki, by contrast, practically skips beside you, her eyes wide with wonder at the festive displays. They both wear matching blushes, the cold painting their pale cheeks the same roseate pink.

"Can we get taiyaki?" Tsumiki asks, tugging on your sleeve and pointing to a small shop ahead.

You smile down at her. "Of course. What about you, Megumi? What would you like?"

The boy shrugs, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Whatever's fine."

You lead them into the warmth of the taiyaki shop, the sweet aroma of red bean paste and custard filling the air. As you wait in line, you crouch down to Megumi's level.

"You know," you say softly, ruffling his hair, "it's okay to want things, Megumi. To have preferences. You don't always have to go along with what everyone else wants."

He looks at you, surprise flashing across his face before his usual stoic expression returns. "I... I like the chocolate ones," he admits quietly.

You scratch his head affectionately. "Chocolate it is, then."

You place your order - custard for Tsumiki, chocolate for Megumi, and red bean for yourself. Afterwards, you find a bench in a nearby park to enjoy your treats. Tsumiki chatters away about her upcoming school play, while Megumi listens intently, occasionally nodding or offering a quiet comment.

"You’re gonna stay with us for the holidays, right? Are you gonna move in?" Tsumiki asks suddenly, her voice hopeful.

The question catches you off guard, and you fumble for an answer. "Um, yeah, I will. Stay, that is. And you guys know you can always just knock on my door downstairs."

You’d agreed to stay until the semester ended in the spring. You’d been around for a little over a month, but you already had your doubts about going back to Kyoto. Already, you found yourself looking forward to getting up in the morning while in Tokyo, seasonal depression be damned. You tell yourself it’s not because of the white-haired sorcerer that occupies your thoughts constantly — it’s the familiarity of the city. And the kids, of course.

To both Tsumiki and Satoru’s dismay (and a slight frown from Megumi), you decided to take the offer of an apartment the floor below them. It wasn’t exactly vacant, as Satoru claimed — the previous tenant, a well-off socialite of some sort, needed a sublet. You needed your own space from Satoru for your own sanity, and he was willing to pay the rent for the allotted time you could be there.

Tsumiki pouts. “But it’s easier if you just live in our apartment!”

“I can’t do that since you’ve converted the spare room into yours with all your dolls laying around,” you snort. Tsumiki opens her mouth to protest but decides against it, considering you have a point.

“Hmph. Still. You can sleep in Satoru’s room, right? It’s so big!”

Your face nearly pales at the suggestion, ironically. As if it was something scandalous, which perhaps it would be considering your complicated relationship. You’re sure he’d be thrilled if you brought it up.

Megumi looks up at you, his green eyes serious. "We like having you here," he says softly. "Satoru-san is... different when you're around. Better."

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "Better?"

Tsumiki nods enthusiastically. "He smiles more! And he doesn't forget to make breakfast as much."

You chuckle, imagining Satoru's indignant expression if he could hear this conversation. "Well, I'm glad I can help. But Satoru cares about you both very much, you know."

As if on cue, your phone buzzes with a photo attachment from him. There’s a boiling pot of… something, on the stove.

satoru: you guys aren’t going to leave me to eat by myself, are you????? ^-^

you: we’ll be home soon. the kids wanted taiyaki

satoru: don’t help them spoil their dinner :(

you: it’s probably more edible than what you’re making

satoru: :( say that to my face at least :(

You chuckle, locking your phone. “C’mon, guys. Let’s get home before Satoru burns down the kitchen.”

As you walk back home with Megumi and Tsumiki, their words echo in your mind. The realization that you've become such an integral part of their lives fills you with a trepidation, but also tenderness. You've been careful not to overstep, to maintain some semblance of boundaries, but the lines have been blurring more and more each day.

The apartment is warm and inviting when you return, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. You help the kids out of their winter gear, hanging up coats and scarves as they rush to see what Satoru is cooking.

You follow more slowly, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene. Satoru stands at the stove, stirring something in a large pot. His hair is slightly mussed, and he's wearing the ridiculous "Kiss the Cook" apron you bought him as a joke for his birthday. 

Satoru looks up, catching your eye. His face breaks into a warm smile, one that reaches his eyes and makes your heart skip a beat.

"Welcome home," he says softly. “Did you guys have fun?”

Tsumiki launches into an excited recounting of your afternoon, while Megumi nods along, occasionally adding a quiet comment. Satoru listens attentively, his expression softening as he watches the children.

You move into the kitchen, drawn by the warmth and the tantalizing aroma. "What's for dinner?" you ask, peering into the pot.

"Curry," Satoru announces proudly. "My specialty."

You raise an eyebrow skeptically. "Since when is curry your specialty?"

He grins, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. "Since I found your recipe book and followed the instructions very, very carefully."

His breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You playfully push him away, ignoring the knowing look Tsumiki gives you.

As you all sit down to eat, the conversation flows easily. Megumi talks about a new technique he's been practicing, while Tsumiki regales you with tales from her drama club. Satoru watches it all with a contented smile, occasionally catching your eye across the table.

Later, after the kids have gone to bed, you find yourself alone with Satoru in the living room. He's sprawled on the couch, his head in your lap as you absently run your fingers through his hair.

Satoru stretches languidly, cat-like. The movement causes his shirt to ride up slightly, revealing his stomach. You force yourself to look away, busying yourself with whatever’s on the television.

“So," Satoru says, his voice low and teasing, "what do you want for Christmas?"

You look down to face him, scoffing. "Who says I'm expecting anything from you?"

He grins that cocky, infuriating grin that still makes your stomach flip. "Come on, Twigs. There must be something you want."

“Haven’t really thought about it.

“C’mon. You must have.”

You weigh your words carefully. "How about... a nice, quiet evening, where you don’t bother me with your bullshit?"

Satoru laughs, his blue eyes warm as he regards you. "I think that can be arranged," he says softly.

He gets closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is so tender, so intimate, that you find yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

"You know," Satoru murmurs, his voice low, "the kids were asking me the other day if you were going to be their new mom."

Your breath catches in your throat. You narrow your eyes. "That’s not funny."

“What? Their words, not mine.”

You sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Satoru, we've talked about this. We can't just jump into playing house. It's not fair to the kids."

He sits up, his expression suddenly serious. "I know. But... is it so crazy to think about? Us, together, raising them? I mean, we’ve already been doing it, basically, right?”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you. You can feel your heart racing, a mix of longing and fear swirling in your chest.

"It's not crazy," you admit softly. "But it's complicated. We have a lot of history, Satoru. A lot of things we still need to work through. Also, you’re freshly twenty-two. That’s hardly the age to be a considered a guardian."

“But I am their guardian!” he frowns. “And your mom’s pretty young. Didn’t she have you around our age?”

“That’s not even — we’re going off topic. This isn’t about me having a kid,” you blush, the brief thought of mothering a child of your own with Satoru send a brief shock to your chest. “Just relax, okay? Take things slow.”

Satoru intertwines his fingers with yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "Slow," he agrees. "I can do slow."

But even as he says it, you can see the mischievous glint in his eye. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But just so you know, I'm not very good at being patient."

You laugh, pushing him away playfully. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Gojo Satoru."

He grins, pulling you closer until you're practically in his lap. "Can you blame me? Do you have any idea how irresistible you are?"

Your breath hitches as his hand trails up your thigh. "Satoru," you warn, but there's no real heat behind it.

"What?" he asks innocently. "I'm behaving. This is me behaving."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that tugs at your lips. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly charming, you mean," he quips, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your neck.

You shiver at the contact, your resolve weakening with each passing moment. "The kids," you remind him weakly.

"Are fast asleep," he murmurs against your skin. "And I can be very, very quiet when I need to be."

“Speaking of asleep,” you say quickly, leaning away. “That’s exactly what I need to be right now.”

He lets out a noise in between a groan and a whine, which you would rebuke more efficiently if the sound didn’t make heat settle in the pit of your stomach.

“You still didn’t give me my birthday present,” he murmurs. You don’t miss the suggestiveness in his gaze.

“I didn’t say I’d fuck you.”

“You kind of did,” he pouts.

“You’re still on that, huh? I was teasing you. And drunk.”

The last time you’d went out for drinks with him and Shoko, you’d gone home with him in a good mood, apparently good enough to let him be handsy. He took whatever crumbs he could get from you, played the part of a good dog after he had a few fruity cocktails. You let him kiss you on the side of your mouth and you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Even if he’d shut up, the puppy-dog looks he’d throw you would push you over the edge.

“You tease me every damn day by existing. I should banish you.”

“Right. Like you’d survive more time apart from me,” you snort.

“Of course not,” he rolls his eyes. “I love you too much.”

You meet his gaze, face warming at the casualness of his declaration. This is Satoru stripped bare, all his walls down, offering you his heart. It’s still something you’re not used to — the way he gives affection so easily. He always had, of course, but never so candid in sincerity.

It made you sick almost, like being sugar-drunk on something much too decadent. Humiliated you with how warm it made you, your tongue heavy as lead in your mouth like a teenager again.

“Oh?” Satoru grins. “Did that get you going?”

“No. Shut up.”

“You like that. Noted.”

You scoff, rising from the couch. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart!” he calls after you. “Love you.”

“Goodnight, weirdo,” you huff, trudging your feet towards the door. You pause as you touch the doorknob before turning around. “I love you too.”

You leave too quickly to gauge his reaction, but you feel his smile burn into the back of your neck.

__

You come home to Jiji rubbing his head against your shin. He was still small — a runt, resembling more like a soot sprite than the Ghibli cat he was named after. He acted a lot like Megumi, truthfully. Clung to you, bombarded your space especially if Satoru was around.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you coo, scooping the cat from the floor to nuzzle. “You miss the kids, don’t you?”

He mews at you as if to say yes and you grin. You make your way upstairs, Jiji’s head tucked in your shoulder as you unlock Satoru’s apartment with your spare key.

Satoru is already in the kitchen, hair tousled from the day’s mission. His eyes light up when he sees you walk in. “Twigs! Ready for Operation Birthday Boy?” he grins, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Before you can greet him properly, your gaze drifts over the amount of balloons and streamers haphazardly aligning the walls. Many are Digimon-themed, despite knowing full well that Megumi preferred Pokemon, but that isn’t an argument that was worth having with Satoru unless you wanted him to revert to his child-self.

“You… went all out,” you mutter, still examining the expanse of the living room. There were streamers every color under the sun strung around, comically bright in contrast with the luxury apartments plain white walls.

The smell of cake batter and melting chocolate permeates through the air. You notice then as you step closer towards Satoru that the Italian marble of the kitchen island is dusted with flour. You groan.

“Satoru, I thought we were picking up a cake—”

“But a homemade one has more love!” he scoffs. He’s made a mess of his apron, not to mention there was a streak of pink frosting on his cheekbone.

“And who said you were qualified enough to bake?”

“Hey! I’m trying here! And don’t worry, I’m not making dinner, obviously. We still have to pick up the hors d’oeuvres from the catering place—”

“What? We’re celebrating a nine-year-old.”

“You get expensive taste when you live with me,” he shrugs. “You like oysters, right? I heard it’s a really good aphrodisiac— ow!”

He flinches when you flick him in the forehead. He pouts, rubbing his head as if you’d actually inflicted damage on him.

“The hell was that for?”

You ignore his question. “Where are the kids? It’s like… dinner time. School should be out by now.”

“I told Shoko to pick them up and stall. I’m still preparing.”

“Satoru — seriously? You decided to make the cake right before we celebrate?”

“It won’t take long! This is a state-of-the-art oven for your information!” Satoru scoffs, rinsing his hands in the sink. The amount of flour on the marble of the island makes you cringe. And was that… an egg yolk stain in the corner?

“That doesn’t mean—”

The oven beeps as if to taunt you. Satoru grins, putting on oven mitts that are comically too small for him to take out the cake. It’s certainly cake-shaped despite the lumpy bubbles on top.

“Wanna help me decorate the cake for the birthday boy?”

You move in front of him, shooing him away. He pouts again, the expression making you want to simultaneously hit him and kiss him, and hands you a butter knife and a tub of mint green frosting.

“Go crazy, Twigs,” he sighs. “I should shower anyway.”

You take the time to meticulously cover the entirety of the chocolate cake in the frosting, with Happy Birthday, Megumi! in loopy script in the middle. You’re quick to clean the rest of the kitchen, still reeling from how much of a mess Satoru managed to make in your absence.

By the time Satoru emerges from his bedroom, the kitchen is mostly clean, and he steps into the room in a crisp baby-blue dress shirt and black slacks. You try to ignore the fluttering sensation in your belly at the sight of it. It was your favorite outfit on him and he probably wore it knowing that. You huff lightly, looking away.

You gain reprieve from his teasing when you hear the door open. More balloons float into the room, all bound in Tsumiki’s small hand as she walks in with Shoko and Megumi.

“Happy birthday, Megumi-kun!” you exclaim in glee, walking towards him for a hug. He smiles brightly, blushing as he hugs you back.

Satoru notices the takeout boxes in Shoko’s hands and raises a brow. “You took them to eat dinner already?”

“Obviously. They definitely weren’t going to eat the foie gras you ordered or whatever the fuck,” she snorts. “But more for the adults, eh?”

“Can you not swear around them –”

“I knew the word fuck before!” Tsumiki beams. You share an exasperated look with Satoru, but he’s only holding in a laugh.

As Shoko and Satoru get the kids settled, you lock Jiji in the spare room to prevent Megumi’s Divine dogs from chasing the poor thing. They were all bared teeth, bright eyes. Still puppies, still young like the kids. 

Afterwards, you return to the living room just in time for Satoru to bring out the cake with pastel lit candles atop of it.

Megumi is quiet as everyone shrouds him, gazing at the birthday cake like he’s never seen one before. He hasn’t really — maybe he did when his parents were still together and alive and didn’t fuck off to somewhere else, he doesn’t know — but even he did, he wouldn’t remember. He had only known shared dandelion wishes with Tsumiki, fuzzy memories of Toji patting his head when on his sixth birthday.

You look at him now and you see a child who doesn’t know what to do with all the love surrounding him, and the sight reminds you of yourself.

“Make a wish, Megumi,” you say softly. He looks up at you with wide eyes as if making a wish were to make a sacrifice. He closes his eyes and blows the candles out, smiling softly as everyone claps.

You lean back on the couch as you watch him unwrap his presents, which include an abundance of hastily-wrapped boxes from Satoru. Toya and electronics that the kid probably haven’t dreamt of owning. Satoru was still young in his own right and it showed in his animated way of speaking, excitedly presenting his gifts to Megumi like he was an older brother. Your chest feels uncharacteristically warm as you watch.

You, Satoru, and Shoko watch as the kids play amongst themselves, indulging yourselves in the catering that Satoru had bought, which was more of a luxury takeout order more than anything. The bottle of wine that Shoko had brought makes you able to tolerate Satoru’s antics. You refuse to admit to him, but you even find him endearing tonight.

After the ordeal, Shoko hugs you and departs to her own apartment, while Satoru entertains the kids with a new video game console he’d bought for Megumi. After cleaning, Satoru insists in you joining, which results in many competitive games of Super Street Fighter IV.

Tsumiki is the first to doze off on the couch, her head cradled in your lap as you stroke her hair gently.

“Hey, kid,” Satoru whispers to Megumi, “Looks like your sister’s knocked out. It’s about time for bed, don’t ya think?”

“But I wanted to play more Final Fantasy!” Megumi whines.

“We can play some more tomorrow,” you quip. “It’s been a long day.”

“Okay,” he pouts, taking your hand as you lead him to his bedroom.

Satoru is lounging on the couch once you return, grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just a good mom.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Told you we’re not playing house, Satoru,” you scoff, slumping your body into the couch next him.

“I know,” he says softly. “I’m just complimenting your ability to rein in some brats.”

“Had a lot of practice from you.”

He laughs.

You glance at him, noticing his mussed-up hair, the soft wrinkles of his button-down. He looked more grown-up than he meant to be. It wasn’t that Satoru looked particularly mature, but seeing him slightly disheveled after handling Megumi’s birthday made him look older than how you’d seen him in earlier years — childish, boyish. In the light of the dim lamp beside him, he looked like a man with responsibilities.

It was like seeing him in the future. But you’re here now, in his apartment, in the present, and the sight of him looking so domestic is doing awful things to your heart.

“You’re… really good with them, too, you know. You don’t really need me,” you murmur.

“Huh?” Satoru raises his brows. “No. Of course I need you.”

You almost blush at that. You’re glad for the wine that he’s given you, relaxing your muscles, giving you an excuse for the flush in your cheeks.

“You can do it on your own, though,” you say softly. “You’re just… better at this than I thought you’d be. It’s admirable. That’s all.”

His gaze softens. “Thanks, Twigs. That means a lot.”

He looks at you then, almost amused, as if the concept of a compliment from you had been completely unheard of. As if the notion alone made him flattered enough to forget humility. (Though, you’re sure the prodigal Satoru Gojo has never known humility.)

“So you’re praising me, then? Do I win best babysitter of the year?” he chuckles.

“Sure. Whatever,” you snort. “Don’t get such a big head about it.”

“Oh, but I must. You think I’m a complete disaster usually, but you’re telling me I was good with the kids tonight? My head is huge, Twigs.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. Trying to hide the way your stomach feels hotter when you look at him and his charming grin. He looks back at you with an expression that makes your pulse go faster.

“You’re cute.”

You blink at him. His voice is heady and husky, his gaze soft. Tentative as he leans in, clearly wary that he’d spook you by crossing the invisible line you’ve set since you decided to move back to Tokyo.

“Speechless, baby?” he drawls. “I didn’t even try hard at flirting this time.”

“Shut up,” you scoff, paying more attention to your glass of wine. “You’re hardly seducing me right now.”

“Never said I was trying to,” he murmurs, leaning into you. His hand is on your knee and you don’t swat him away, for once. In his mind, this is progress.

“But you’re always trying to.” You narrow your eyes.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

He hums, the vibration of his voice like warm honey. “Mm. Am not.”

“Okay. I’m going to bed now.” You rise from the couch, but Satoru catches your wrist in his large, pale hand. You look at him with a brow raised.

“Sleep here tonight?”

“No.”

“C’mon. Please? I won’t try anything.”

You contemplate. You aren’t truly at the brink of exhaustion, but the demands Yaga-sensei made of you at school had started to become one of your main stressors. You’re tired. You definitely don’t feel like going downstairs to your own apartment, Jiji in hand, having to clean up the mess in your own space that you ignored in lieu of preparing for Megumi’s birthday.

You swallow, clenching your jaw. “Fine. I’m feeling lazy tonight.”

Satoru smiles wide, flashing his white teeth. Angel-headed under the soft glow of the lamp. You have to look away before your stomach stirs with something you’ll ruminate over.

“Stay in my bed?”

“Satoru—”

“Come on. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Also, the spare room is a mess. The kids made a blanket fort in there last night that is yet to be deconstructed.”

“Okay. Whatever,” you mutter, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up. Afterwards, you return to Jiji and scoop him up in your arms, pleased at the way the cat nuzzles into your face.

You step into Satoru's bedroom, immediately overwhelmed by the sheer size of the space. The bed is enormous, draped in crisp white sheets that look almost too pristine to touch. It smells faintly of him—clean, like fresh linen and a hint of something sharp and sweet, like cedarwood mixed with sugar. You’re already regretting this decision, though perhaps not entirely for the reasons you’d like to admit.

You undress and change into one of his t-shirts before crawling into his bed. Satoru follows you in shortly after, pausing in the doorway with an infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face.

“You know,” he begins, leaning casually against the frame as he folds his arms across his chest, “I didn’t think my birthday present would be you gracing me with your presence in my bed tonight, but honestly? Best gift ever.”

You glare at him from over your shoulder as you set Jiji down on the floor. The little cat immediately darts under Satoru’s bed for refuge—likely avoiding any further encounters with Megumi’s Divine dogs, or perhaps the bubbling conflict in the room itself.

“Your birthday was weeks ago. Don’t push your luck,” you warn flatly. “I gave in because I’m tired. This isn’t some… romantic gesture.”

“Oh, sure,” he teases, taking a few steps closer until he towers over you. His voice drops to a playful murmur as he gleefully adds, “But it could be.”

You groan audibly and climb onto the far side of the bed—intentionally as far away from him as possible—and tug the edge of the comforter over yourself without sparing him another glance. "Goodnight, Satoru."

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, pulling off his socks and tossing them carelessly across the room. He casually strips off his shirt and pants, throwing them somewhere near the hamper – not inside it, of course – before flopping down beside you like a content cat. He stretches out languidly, one arm tucked behind his head as he turns to watch you. You try not to dwell on the fact that he’s beside you, only in his boxers.

The room falls quiet save for the soft hum of the heater kicking on and Jiji occasionally rustling beneath the bed. You shut your eyes tightly and try to relax, but there’s no ignoring how aware you are of Satoru's presence beside you—the way his breathing evens out gradually or how his arm brushes yours when he shifts.

Minutes pass in silence before he finally speaks again, his voice softer this time—devoid of its usual teasing edge. “You really think I’m good with them? Megumi and Tsumiki?”

You open your eyes but don’t immediately respond. There’s something vulnerable about his tone that catches you off guard—a rare glimpse at the pieces of himself he so often keeps hidden beneath his bravado.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly after a pause. Turning your head slightly to look at him in the dim light filtering through the curtains, you add honestly, “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

He turns his head toward you now too, studying you intently. For a second, neither of you speak. His gaze holds yours long enough for your chest to tighten uncomfortably under its weight.

“You’re good for them too,” he says softly after what feels like an eternity. His voice has lost all pretense now—it’s raw and earnest in a way that has always made you feel unsteady around him. "For us."

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

Silence falls over you both, but you can still feel Satoru’s begging eyes boring into your skull. You look over to him and it feels like his blue eyes are glowing in the dark. He strips his gaze from you and looks up at the ceiling instead, feigning a casual demeanor.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken tension. You can feel the heat radiating from Satoru's body, achingly close yet still too far. His eyes, usually so bright and mischievous, are dark and intense as they roam over your face.

"Twigs," he murmurs, his voice low. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you roll over to face him. In the dim light, his eyes are impossibly blue, gleaming with an intensity that makes your breath catch. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek with a tenderness that surprises you.

"I meant what I said," Satoru continues, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "You're good for us. For me."

He moves closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as his thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone. You can feel his breath, warm against your skin, as he leans in.

You swallow hard. "Satoru," you warn, but your voice lacks conviction.

He sighs but leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Please."

You know you should push him away. You know this is dangerous territory, that you're teetering on the edge of something irreversible. You’re too stubborn for your own good, both you and Satoru know this. It’s why you curl into his chest instead of pressing your mouth to his. The fear of falling into his charm is futile, especially with how much you want him, frustratingly so.

Satoru's hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, it occurs to you how close you are to him, how intimate this feels. The air between you feels charged, electric.

He says your name, this time, bedroom-soft. Not Twigs, not baby, but your name.

Instead of shying away as you normally might, something shifts inside you. Maybe it's the wine from earlier, or the vulnerability in Satoru's voice, or simply the culmination of months of unresolved tension. Whatever it is, it emboldens you.

His touch ignites something within you - a spark of desire you've been trying to suppress for far too long. The want in you hurts. The frustration, the anger, the tenderness, it all boils within the core of you. It’s all coming to head. When you hear the way Satoru says your name, you decide that you need catharsis.

In one fluid motion, you grab Satoru’s wrist, pinning it above his head as you roll on top of him. His eyes widen in surprise, lips parting in a soft gasp.

"Is this what you want, Satoru?" you breathe, your face inches from his. "Is this why you've been pushing so hard?"

"W-what are you doing?" he stammers, caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.

Your free hand trails down his chest, fingernails scraping lightly against the skin of his bare chest. Satoru shudders beneath you, his body arching into your touch. You can feel his heart racing, see the flush creeping up his neck under the pale moonlight.

"You talk a big game," you murmur. "But can you handle it when someone else takes control?"

Satoru swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Try me," he challenges, but there's a tremor in his voice that betrays his nervousness.

You pull back, meeting his gaze with a taunting smile. Slowly, deliberately, you grind your hips against his, eliciting a low moan from Satoru. His free hand moves to grip your waist, but you catch it, pinning both his wrists above his head.

"No,” you chastise. "No touching unless I say so."

Satoru's eyes darken with desire, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "You're killing me, Twigs," he groans.

"Good," you purr, leaning down to nip his jaw. 

You take your time exploring his body with your hands, savoring every gasp and shudder you draw from him as if it’s the first time you’ve touched him. Satoru writhes beneath you, struggling against your grip, desperate for more contact. But you maintain control, setting a torturously slow pace that has him practically begging.

"Please," he whimpers, his usual cockiness completely shattered. "I need you."

You smile against his skin, enjoying this newfound power. You scoff. "I thought you said you could do slow?"

He lets out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow. "That was before I knew how evil you could be."

"Evil?" you chuckle, trailing your fingers down his chest. "I'm barely taunting you. If anything, I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine."

You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "Besides, I thought you liked it when I took charge."

Satoru shivers beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I do," he admits, his voice strained. "God, I do."

You smile, a predatory glint in your eyes as you slowly grind against him. The friction draws a low moan from Satoru, his hips bucking up involuntarily. He can feel the warmth of your core, your heat against his cock with only two layers of fabric separating him from what he truly wants.

You tsk, pressing him firmly back down onto the mattress.

"Stay still," you command. "Or I'll stop altogether."

With deliberate slowness, you trail your fingers down his chest, savoring the way his muscles quiver beneath your touch. Satoru's breathing grows ragged as your hand dips lower, tracing the V of his hips before stopping just short of where he wants – no, needs you most.

"Twigs," he groans, frustration evident in his voice. "Stop teasing."

You laugh, nipping at his collarbone. "But you make it so fun, Satoru."

Your free hand ghosts over the front of his boxers, barely applying pressure. Satoru's hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, but you pull away with a wicked grin.

“I told you I’d stop if you misbehave.”

Satoru's eyes flash with a mix of desire and defiance. "You wouldn't dare."

You raise an eyebrow, accepting his challenge. Slowly, you begin to pull away, but Satoru's words tumble out in a rush.

"Wait!” he gasps, panicked. “I'm sorry, I'll be good. Please, don't stop."

The desperation in his voice sends a thrill through you. You've never seen Satoru like this - completely at your mercy, his usual bravado stripped away. Even in the dark, his eyes usually glow aquamarine, but right now pools of onyx stare back at you underneath heavy white lashes.

"That's better," you murmur, rewarding him with a slow, sensual kiss. He whines into it, licks into your mouth like he’s begging you to eat him whole. 

You take your time with him mapping every dip and curve of his upper body with your lips and tongue. Satoru writhes beneath you, soft whimpers escaping him as you lavish attention on his most sensitive spots.

When you finally free him from his boxers, Satoru lets out a sigh of relief. But instead of giving him what he wants, you continue your slow pace, placing feather-light kisses along his inner thighs. He huffs when you press his thumb against his leaking slit, while you look at him with a grin as you apply pressure.

“You have such a pretty cock, Satoru.”

His face gets even warmer, if that was possible. “Sh-shut up–”

You raise your brows. “What was that, sweetheart?”

His eyes widen aa your mean expression. "N-Nothing! I’m sorry. Just – please," Satoru begs, his voice hoarse. "I need you. I need—"

You silence him with a finger to his lips. "Shh. The kids are sleeping, remember? We wouldn't want to wake them, would we?"

Satoru's breath hitches at the reminder, and he bites his lip to stifle a moan as he watches you spit on his cock, finally wrapping your hand around him. You set a maddeningly slow rhythm, watching with satisfaction as Satoru struggles to keep quiet. Your mouth grazes him, only barely. He needs you around him, completely. His cock is fucking aching for it.

A whine escapes Satoru's throat, his hips jerking upward. "Twigs, please. I can't— I need—"

Cruelly, you cover his mouth with your palm. You have half the mind to gag him. You’re tempted to, really, but you’ve already slipped off your panties and thrown them somewhere across the room.

“Baby—”

“Stop fucking talking,” you hiss, your hand around his throat. He gasps, looks at you with half-lidded eyes. Mouth parted. Lovestruck. “Be good.”

He complies, whimpering softly instead of pleading with useless words. You watch his eyes roll back as your hand moves from his shaft to his tip, your spit lubricating his twitching cock along with the precum collecting at the top.

You savor the power you hold over him, watching his chest heave with each labored breath. Satoru's usual cockiness has evaporated, leaving him vulnerable and needy beneath you. It's intoxicating.

You can feel him trembling beneath you, every muscle taut with the effort of staying quiet. His hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white, eyes shut tight. You release his throat, trailing your fingers down his chest as you position yourself above him.

"Look at me," you command softly.

Satoru's eyes flutter open, hazy with desire. His hands graze your waist tentatively, smoothing over the soft skin over your ribs underneath the t-shirt (his t-shirt) that clings loosely to your frame.

He can almost feel how wet you are, he swears it. His Six Eyes can see everything from the tremble of your pulse, sensing how much your desires are waiting to jump out of your skin. The wetness of your pink mouth. He feels delirious with want, deluded, maybe, just from the intensity of his senses as he takes in your presence.

He could be hallucinating how intense it all really is. He isn’t sure — he’s too drunk on the fact that you’re in his lap at all, partially bare. Your bare cunt hovering over his cock. Taunting. Fucking tease. If he wanted, he could flip you over and restrain you. Have your hands yanked to your lower back, make you yelp like a slut.

But he doesn’t. He’s already a mess for you, no matter what you intend to do to him. He knows there’s something so awful inside of him that’s waiting to crawl out something only you can coax out.

When you look at him with moonlight reflecting in your pupils, the desire overtakes him. Despite himself, he rises him to meet your mouth, desperate for a kiss or any semblance of one, but your hand tightens around his throat. He moans at the pressure of it and blushes, embarrassed. He whines.

“Ha. Nice try. You’re so fucking eager, huh? Missed me that much?” you taunt. It’s cruel and you know it. You’ve known how much he’s wanted you — you’ve defied it when he’s been too candid about it. And now, while his heart is on his sleeve with your name in the center, you tease him.

He would take you over his knee for it if he wasn’t fucking melting underneath you.

“Of course I missed you,” Satoru grits.

“Oooh, so feisty. You look like an angry dog, you know that?” you sneer.

“Belittle me all you want,” he narrows his eyes, “Just let me — fuck —”

He perks up his head and tries to kiss you but you reject him. He has to stifle a groan. His resolve is crumbling into nothingness.

“Please fuck me,” he gasps. “Or just kiss me. Do anything you want. I just — I don’t care. I need you —”

Satoru writhes against the bedsheets. Grits his teeth, baring his canines like a dog ready to fight. But you’re as gentle as you are evil, able to weaken his efforts just by the slight tilt of your plump mouth. A knowing smirk.

“You need me?” you laugh.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Need you. Only you —”

You spit and he watches the drool cascade down to his aching cock. His eyes widen, mesmerized and choked up as you stroke him. He shudders, body arching towards you at the contact.

“Oh, fuck—” he breathes, unable to form words. Your hand feels better than his own. The warmth of your body above him makes his blood sing.

He pants pathetically as you grin down at him with wolf-teeth. He could cry from your touch alone.

"Relax," you breathe, leaning down to nip at his earlobe. "I'll give you what you need."

“Can’t relax — need — ah!” he whimpers. “Please, please —”

“Are you begging?” you taunt, laughing.

“Yes!” he groans.

You hold his gaze as you slowly sink down onto him, savoring the stretch and fullness. A strangled sound escapes him, quickly muffled as he bites down on his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood.

You roll your hips carefully, rising and falling with agonizing slowness. Satoru's hips twitch upwards, seeking more, but you pin them down firmly. Your movements are languid as you relish each tiny gasp and stifled moan you draw from him.

You gradually increase your speed, grinding down harder with each thrust. Satoru's breathing grows ragged, his chest heaving. You can feel him getting close, see it in the tension of his jaw and the desperation in his eyes.

Just as he's about to fall over the edge, you slow to a stop. Satoru lets out a frustrated whine, cut off as you press your lips to his in a bruising kiss.

"Not yet," you murmur against his mouth. "I'm not done with you."

“I’m so — fuck,” he slurs, “So close —”

“That’s too bad. Fucking wait.”

His cock throbs at your tone. Your face is calm, tauntingly so, but your voice is cutting with authority.

“God, if I wasn’t so in love with you right now I’d be giving you the worst spanking you’ve ever—” You cut Satoru off, shoving your fingers in his mouth. His eyes roll back immediately, gagging, and you laugh cruelly.

“Oh, you love that. You little slut.”

He moans at the degradation, bucks his hips up in attempt to meet your core again. His large hands are around your waist, trembling as they press in with a bruising grip. You remove your fingers from his mouth, using both your hands to pry off his hands and pin them next to his head. 

“Hey,” you warn, talking to him as if he’s a bad dog. “Told you to be good. Hands up here until I say so, Satoru.”

“Y-Yeah,” he breathes, trying not to whine. His hands curl into fists, clenching and unclenching as he tries to calm the lion heart beating out of his chest while his body is forced into submission by the girl he’s always had power over. 

He stills his body despite himself, though his dick still aches in anticipation. He’s trying to be good for you. The best. 

You lean over to bite at his nipple and he gasps. The role-reversal was dizzying, particularly because you were using his own tricks against him. He feels like he might lose his mind.

“Stop– stop that–” he rasps.

“Why should I? I know you like it. You like when I play with you.”

“I– I–”

“You’d love it if I just used you, right? You want me so much you’d let me touch you in any way, any time of the day. Am I wrong?” You lift your head to meet his gaze, lifting your brow.

He flushes with embarrassment, stomach flipping at your words. “N-No,” he mumbles. 

“That’s what I thought, baby,” you chuckle. Your nails run through his undercut and he sighs in satisfaction, looking at you through wet eyes. 

“I’m keeping my hands to myself,” he simpers. “Please, just fuck me, I promise I’ll be good —”

“Oh? You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes —”

“Mm. Wanna keep playing with you. Lay your head on the pillow properly for me, Satoru.” He obeys you without question, eyes half-lidded with lust as he awaits further instruction. There’s a stupor in his face, dumb with love. He’d do anything you asked. 

Your cunt pulsates around nothing, pleased at his obedience – you’ve never seen him so desperate, despite knowing he wasn’t above begging. Even before, you’d give in, allowing him to use you like a ragdoll. But this — this was entirely new territory. Satoru Gojo was being reduced to tears.

You climb over to him, cunt above his neck. His eyes are blown out, wet as his mouth. 

“You want a taste?”

He nods eagerly, too quickly, too possessed by desire to be embarrassed about it anymore. He wanted you any way he could have you.

You sink down to his mouth and the groan he lets out is louder than you expect.

“Satoru,” you hiss. “Keep it down.”

He whines, lapping at your pussy sloppily. You gasp when he flicks the tip of his tongue your swollen clit. Your thighs tremble as you try to stay upright, knuckles straining against the top of his headboard. At the same time, he uses the opportunity to squeeze the plushness of your ass – something you’d admonish him for if his mouth didn’t feel so fucking good.

“Oh,” you moan out softly, “That’s so good. Just like that, Satoru —”

He moans, his mouth leaking with his own drool and your arousal. It was a treat for him – you never liked sitting on his face for some reason, always blushed when he’d suggest it. But now, he was getting what he wanted. You were throwing him a bone. 

Satoru wants desperately to fist his cock, relieve the ache inside him that keeps building when he hears you whimper, but his hands are too preoccupied with touching you everywhere else. Your ass, your waist, the softness of your breasts underneath your t-shirt. His girl in the palm of his hand.

Your nails scratch his scalp, pulling on the strands of his hair as you grind on his face. Smearing yourself all over him. “Close–”

He doubles down on his efforts and all of it makes you see stars – supernovas clashing together in the fuzzy black behind your eyelids. You have to cover your mouth to keep down the sound of your moan.

His hands are squeezing your thighs. You yelp, overstimulated as his mouth latches onto your clit with no intention of letting go despite your orgasm.

“Satoru, no — no more —”

You roll off of him, ass tumbling onto his torso as he holds you upright. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, kissing you hard. You don’t have a chance to breathe before he does it, but you don’t care — your pussy drips in his lap as he maneuvers you straddle him properly, mouth moaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You can’t take it anymore. You need to be full of him.

You push him off you, pinning him to the bed as your cunt swallows his cock. You wince at the stretch after not taking him for so long, but the resistance quickly disappears from how turned on you are. You’re so overly sensitive from your orgasm that his tip hits your g-spot immediately, stimulation to the max as you grind on him at an angle that brings pressure to your insides. 

“Holy fuck –” Satoru gasps, hands on your hips in a vice grip.

He’s determined to take back any semblance of control, but he fucking loses it at the feeling of being inside you after months and months of a dry spell. You were better than any of his wet dreams. 

He bites his lip in attempt to suppress his whines, hands encouraging the roll of your hips as you grind down on his cock. He loves being used by you, fucked dumb and marvelling at the warmth of your skin on his. He lifts up your t-shirt and you let him pull it off you.

You look down and see puppy-dog eyes gazing at you spilling with tears of pleasure. Angel boy. 

You don’t give him a warning when you finish like you have in the past. It crashes into you, a collision of ecstasy. Months of denying him from your bed and your brain made you forget that he was your very best. Your first and perhaps your last. 

The thought takes the breath out of your lungs. In a moment of lucidity, you look at Satoru full-on, your lust-filled haze clearing to see him fully in adoration. Tears streaming down his cheeks, love painted all over his face.

He hiccups, whimpering. “Baby, I’m close – fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t help it! P-Please, can I —”

You shut him up with a kiss. “Come for me, Satoru,” you whisper against his mouth. “You’re so good. So good to me.”

His eyes widen. He’s about to gasp out a reply but he’s so overwhelmed by your words, the impossible warmth of your cunt sucking him in.

“I love you so much,” you coo, hips gyrating in tandem with his hands guiding you. “You wanna be good for me, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Then go ahead and come for me, baby.”

“Ah – fuck –” Satoru feels his mouth part involuntarily, letting out the ghost of a moan as he chokes up. The ache in his body bursts into sparks, his cum filling you up to the brim as his orgasm plundered through him. 

His legs are shaking.

His comedown is all erratic breaths, small gasps as he wills his heart rate down to a normal speed. He whimpers as he lifts his head to nuzzle your neck, nipping at your warm flesh before you allow him to kiss you tenderly. 

He mumbles something against your mouth that you don’t quite hear.

“Hm?” You attempt to pull away and he whines like a child. You kiss him again and he deepens it, fingers gathering the hair at your nape.

“Letsgetmarried,” he mutters into your jaw.

“What?”

“What?”

You pull back, staring at him with an amused grin. “Did you just propose to me?”

Satoru stares back at you, his snowy hair sticking out haphazardly. “Maybe. Yes. Like, yes, but also no.”

“You’re giving me mixed signals here.”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he slurs. “You fucked me too good. I wanna buy you a house.”

You burst into laughter and pet his head. “You don’t need to do that. You already pay my rent.”

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. Cradles you to his chest, which you don’t protest.

“I love you.”

“Yeah. I love you too.”

Silence fills the room, save for your soft breathing. You clear your throat and stretch your limbs.

“You’re not actually asking me to marry you, right?” you ask warily. 

“Why not? We already have kids.”

“They are not our kids —”

“They may as well be!”

“Satoru,” you snap.

“Okay, okay. I’m half-joking. But I’m serious when I say that I… I think you’re it for me,” Satoru mumbles. “Don’t want anyone else. Ever.”

You look up at him, your eyes glistening. “Me neither.”

You mean it. You suppose that the months without him were a lesson in patience, in self-preservation. You can’t deny that he was your missing piece despite it all, despite the hell you went through with him. 

Satoru has always held a slice of heaven – it clung to him, that divinity. You are the only thing that keeps him from dimming.

[perfectsunlight]

[32] ENOUGH

warnings: therapy sessions, overwhelming emotions, family conflict, intense feelings of isolation and public scrutiny.

JULY 2018

the therapist’s office felt too bright, almost too sterile, with white walls that seemed to reflect every thought jennie was trying to push down. she sat on the edge of a plush couch, her hands folded tightly in her lap, the weight of her secret pressing harder than ever. she couldn’t even look at the therapist—some stranger who was supposed to help her sort through the mess of emotions she couldn’t afford to acknowledge.

jennie had agreed to come here because her manager insisted. it wasn’t for her, though—it was for the image. “you’re under a lot of pressure, jennie. it’s okay to talk about it,” they had nagged. but she wasn’t here for herself. she was here because someone had told her to be. across from her, the therapist—a woman in her late 40s with kind eyes—sat quietly, her notepad resting on her lap. she wasn’t asking anything intrusive yet, only waiting for jennie to open up. 

but she couldn’t.

“jennie,” the therapist smiled, her voice warm and steady, “i understand that things have been moving very fast for you since your debut. how are you feeling about everything that’s happening right now?” the idol stiffened at the mention of blackpink. the group’s rise to fame had been overwhelming, every step met with more pressure, more eyes on her. she wanted to say something, but the words felt trapped in her throat. this wasn’t about being a star—it was about the other part of her life, the one she had to keep hidden.

"everything’s fine," jennie replied, her voice flat, distant. "it’s just a lot to handle sometimes." the therapist simply nodded, her expression calm. "i can imagine. you’re balancing so much. what’s been the hardest part for you?"

jennie’s mind raced. the hardest part? where could she even begin? she was living a double life, caught between the woman the world saw and the woman she had to hide. she was expected to be jennie kim, the idol, the one who smiled for the cameras and smiled through the pain. but what the cameras didn’t know was that there was another life—a life she couldn’t talk about. the one where she was a mother.

her chest tightened as the thought crossed her mind. her daughter. her ivory. her baby girl, who she had to keep from the world. no one can know. no one could ever know. 

the secrecy suffocated her.

"i’m just tired," the rapper replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “all the time, it feels like i’m pretending. i’m not allowed to be real. there’s always this pressure to be perfect. to be this person for everyone, but no one knows the real me.”

the therapist leaned in slightly, sensing the vulnerability behind the idol’s words. “that sounds really exhausting. can you tell me more about what you mean by ‘pretending’?” jennie let out a breath, but no words came. she didn’t know where to start. how could she explain the tension in her chest, the constant guilt, the way her heart ached every time she had to leave her daughter behind? she couldn’t even say she was a mother. she had to keep that part of herself locked away.

“it just all feels fake.” the idol had answered, her voice tinged with a frustration she couldn’t quite name. “like everyone wants me to be this one thing. they expect me to be perfect all the time. it’s like i have to be this persona, and if i show any cracks, everything will fall apart.”

jennie’s slender fingers gripped the edge of the couch, her knuckles shades of her daughter’s name from the pressure. she didn’t dare look at the therapist, afraid that if she did, she might reveal too much. she had to hold herself together—even here, she had to be jennie kim, the image the world adored, the person they thought they knew.

the therapist, quiet and patient, let the silence stretch between them. she understood—jennie didn’t need advice or platitudes right now. she needed someone to hear her, someone to acknowledge the struggle that came with the life she had chosen.

the idol finally spoke again after a few beats of silence, her words a soft confession, her voice breaking slightly with the weight of what she wasn’t saying. “there’s always someone who wants something from me. always someone who wants to use me. nothing feels real, nothing feels genuine.”

the therapist nodded slowly, leaning back into her leather chair but maintaining her focus. “that sounds incredibly isolating. to feel like you have to keep everything locked inside, and not be able to share your true self with anyone.”

the idol’s gaze dropped to her hands, now fidgeting nervously. she didn’t want to share her true self. she couldn’t share it. she couldn’t risk it. the truth, the part of her that was real, wasn’t something the world could ever accept. 

it was too dangerous. too fragile. 

“i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore,” jennie whispered, her voice barely audible. “i don’t know how to be everything they want me to be. and still be me.”

there was a pause, and the therapist gave her the space to gather her thoughts, even if the words felt impossible to say. jennie had spent so many months—years, really—burying parts of herself. she couldn’t even let herself believe she could be anything other than the image she had crafted. even now, sitting in a therapist's office, she couldn’t speak the truth about who she was beneath all the layers.

the therapist spoke again, her voice quiet but insistent. “well, it sounds like you're carrying a heavy burden. you don’t have to bear it alone. is there anyone in your life who makes you feel seen? someone who knows the real you?”

jennie wanted to laugh in her face and just walk out the door, the absurdity of the question hitting her like ice in her veins. who could ever understand this? who could understand her?

her eyes flicked to the woman who sat waiting, her gentle expression a stark contrast to the ocean of thoughts drowning in the idol's mind. the question had unintentionally struck a nerve. of course, there was no one. not in the way the therapist meant. 

no one could understand the weight of the mask jennie had to wear. no one could see past the glossy surface of the public persona, the polished image that was expected of her. and even if someone tried to see me, would they even care?

jennie’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of her jacket. “no,” she said, the word escaping her like a cold, sharp breath. “no one knows me. not really.”

she didn’t even believe it herself. not completely. it was easier to lie, easier to convince herself that she was better off this way—alone in her truth, because the alternative was too terrifying. to be seen, to be known by anyone, meant the possibility of being rejected, of being abandoned by the very people who adored the version of her they had created in their minds.

the therapist sat back a little, not pushing her further, but giving jennie the space to breathe, to consider her words. the silence in the room felt heavy now, almost suffocating.

the idol cleared her throat, fighting back the lump in her throat. her gaze dropped to her hands, which were twisting and folding in her lap, betraying her anxiety. she had to get out of here. she had to escape from this room, from the vulnerability that was creeping in, inch by inch.

“i don’t know how to be me,” jennie muttered under her breath, the words barely audible. “i don’t even know who that is anymore.”

as if on queue, the timer went off, signaling the end of their time together. jennie felt a rush of relief surge through her chest. it was as if the weight she’d been carrying for the past hour finally lifted, and for the first time that day, she could breathe. she didn’t even bother with pleasantries as she stood up. "thank you," she muttered almost automatically, her voice a little hoarse. she wasn’t sure if it was gratitude or just a desperate need to escape the room, but either way, she was out of there as soon as the words left her lips.

as she hurried down the hallway to the parking lot, the rest of the world seemed to fade into a dull hum. she didn’t want to think about the things they’d discussed. she didn’t want to process the way the conversation had unraveled parts of her she wasn’t ready to face. all she wanted was to be home, to be with ivory. the little girl who somehow made everything feel right, even if only for a while.

when she stepped through the door, jieun was there, but jennie barely spared her a glance. her mind was already on ivory. her heart, which had been tight all through the session, began to loosen at the thought of holding her daughter.

“i’ll be with her,” the idol said quietly, her tone flat. jieun, sensing her need for space, gave a soft nod and stepped back, leaving her daughter to retreat into the quiet of their home.

jennie’s pace quickened as she made her way down the hallway. she opened the door to ivory’s room softly, and there the little girl was, sitting on her little rug, her tiny hands putting bows on kuma. at the sight of her, the idol felt the first wave of peace she’d had all day.

ivory looked up and saw her mother, her brown eyes lighting up with pure, unfiltered joy. “mommy?” she said in surprise, her head tilting to the side, a grin spreading across her face. 

the idol’s own face softened, though there was a tightness still lingering in her chest. she didn’t answer with words. instead, she moved to the floor and immediately pulled ivory into her arms, her heartbeat slowing as she pressed her daughter against her. jane’s little body fit perfectly in jennie’s arms, a familiar weight she could never grow tired of.

they didn’t need to talk. jennie didn’t want to talk. there was no need for anything else at that moment. she just needed to hold her daughter, to feel her warm breath against her neck, to know that, for a little while, she didn’t have to be anything other than here.

jane nestled against her, sighing contentedly, her small hands reaching up to trace her mother’s face, as though memorizing the shape of it. jennie closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of baby lotion and something uniquely ivory.

for a while, the room was quiet, the only sound was the soft rhythm of their breathing. ivory shifted in her mother’s arms, her face nuzzling into jennie’s shoulder, and jennie tightened her hold, as if trying to shield her from everything—everything outside of this room, outside of this moment.

it didn’t matter that the world was still waiting for her, that the pressures, the expectations, the fear—everything—was still looming. in this little bubble, with her daughter in her arms, none of that mattered. she could almost forget it all.

she could just be jennie, the mother. the most important title in her life.

as the hours slipped by, the idol found herself reluctant to move, reluctant to even speak. she just wanted to stay like this, to hold her daughter close and pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist. the way ivory’s tiny fingers curled into her sleeve, the way she let out soft giggles as jennie kissed her head, made her heart swell.

and for that fleeting moment, that brief escape from everything else, jennie allowed herself to believe that this was enough.

—

OCTOBER 2025

the office space was painted in dark, muted colors, the kind designed to be calming. dark blues and greens lined the walls, interrupted only by a row of shelves filled with books and puzzles. a small table in the corner held crayons and coloring sheets, their cheerful appearance clashing with the suffocating weight jane felt pressing against her tiny chest.

she didn’t want to be here. the only reason she agreed was because jennie had asked her to. however, ivory was starting to question why in the world she agreed to it.

the therapist was a kind-looking woman with dark eyes and a soothing voice. she sat across from her, the wall behind her littered with framed awards and certifications. ivory couldn’t remember her name—ms. something—but it didn’t matter. the woman was just another stranger, someone who didn’t understand.

“hi, jane,” she said, her voice warm like honey. she opened one of her notepads and grabbed a sleek looking pen from her drawer. “it’s so nice to meet you. your grandma and your mom told me a lot about you.”

the eleven year old glanced at the therapist in slight annoyance, then quickly averted her gaze to the patterned rug beneath her shoes. it felt safer to stare there, at the swirling blues and whites, than to meet the woman’s kind, probing eyes.

she didn’t want to be here. matter of fact, she had no idea why both her grandmother and mother thought this was a good idea. the therapist paused for a beat, giving her space, then continued.

 “they said you’ve been feeling a little sad lately. that you’ve been missing your mom a lot when she’s away. is that true?”

jane’s fingers gripped the hem of her grey oversized sweater. it was a gift from her mother. a one of one vintage designer piece. she didn’t remember exactly what brand, all she cared about was that it was from her mom. she wanted to laugh at the question, to stand up and just walk out already.

of course she missed her. she missed her every single day that jennie was gone, every moment she had to pretend she was like every other kid when her life was anything but.

but how could she explain it? how could she look at this stranger and tell her the truth? that her mom wasn’t just some busy woman working long hours, but jennie kim—the jennie kim? that her absence wasn’t just because of an ordinary job, but because of cameras and flashing lights and a career that consumed her whole world?

so she stayed quiet.

the therapist tilted her head slightly, her expression patient and encouraging. “it’s okay if it’s hard to talk about. you don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready.”

the young girl’s throat tightened as the therapist’s words hung in the air. she clenched her jaw and stared harder at the patterned rug, as if the swirling shapes could somehow anchor her, stop the storm of emotions from bubbling over.

the room was too quiet. the kind of quiet that made everything feel louder—the hum of the air conditioning, the subtle creak of the chair as she shifted, even her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“i…” jane started, her voice barely a whisper. but the words caught in her throat. she could feel the therapist’s eyes on her, gentle but expectant, like she was waiting for her to find the words to continue.

the silence stretched on, unbearable. her slender fingers twisted the hem of her sweater tighter, the soft fabric biting into her palms. she thought of her mom—her amazing, beautiful mom—smiling at her from the screen, her voice like sunshine when she called from some faraway hotel room. jane hated how much she craved those moments, the rare ones where her mother felt like just her mother.

but they weren’t alone moments. not really. there were always fans, schedules, cameras. always someone else demanding a piece of her mom.

jane swallowed hard. she couldn’t say any of that. couldn’t say how much it hurt to share her mom with the world. to feel like she was competing with millions of strangers for her attention.

“i’m fine.” the young kim whispered, giving a firm nod of her head. the therapist didn’t react right away. she just nodded in reply, her smile small and understanding, like she knew the young girl wasn’t fine but wouldn’t push her to admit it. 

“sometimes it helps to draw or write about how you’re feeling,” she said, sliding a blank sheet of paper and a box of crayons across the table. “no one has to see it. it’s just for you.”

jane’s eyes flicked to the paper. her hands didn’t move. she hated how everyone kept asking her to “express her feelings” like it would magically fix everything. the young girl gave the therapist a look, one that definitely meant jane knew what the older woman was trying to do. when the therapist realized the girl wasn’t going to take the bait, she leaned back slightly. 

“do you want to tell me about your mom?”

that question hit harder than it should have. jane’s chest tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “what about her?” she finally scoffed, her voice a bit sharper than she intended to. she could feel the irritation bubbling up inside her, the urge to push back, to defend the one part of her life that was supposed to be her own. as if this therapist even knew who her mother was. jane could already call it from a mile away—the polite, clinical smile on the woman’s face, the soft, empathetic tone. 

but it was all fake, wasn’t it?

jennie had probably used one of her four (and yes, she had counted) fake names when signing jane up for this session. four. because there was no way anyone could know who jennie kim really was—not even a therapist. not in a place like this. not in this life jane had to pretend to lead.

the therapist, not flinching at the sudden shift in jane’s tone, asked again, “what’s she like?”

it was a loaded question, at least to the young girl it was. what was jennie kim like? to the world, she was untouchable—charismatic, talented, adored by millions. she was the kind of person people wrote songs about, the kind of person who could command a room with just a glance. but to ivory, jennie was a puzzle, one she couldn’t quite figure out. 

her mom, who could light up her entire world in one moment and then disappear from it the next.

she thought of the sweater she was wearing, the way her mother had handed it to her with a bright smile, saying, “this reminded me of you.” she thought of the lullabies jennie used to sing when she was younger, of the way her mom’s hugs felt like the safest place in the world.

but she also thought of the canceled birthdays, the missed school plays, the empty chair at dinner. she thought of how every time jennie said, “i’ll be home soon,” jane stopped believing it a little more.

ivory’s throat burned, feeling like shards of glass in her windpipe. she hesitated, her voice trembling a bit more than she had planned. 

“she’s busy.”

the therapist’s head tilted slightly, her expression softening. “that must be hard. when someone you care about is busy a lot.”

jane felt the lump in her throat grow, the tightness in her chest spreading like a burning wildfire. she wanted to scream at the woman to stop, to leave her alone, to stop digging at things she didn’t want to talk about. but instead, she forced her voice to stay steady. “i’m used to it.”

the therapist paused, watching her carefully. “you must be very strong to handle that,” she said gently.

jane’s hands relaxed slightly at the words, but only for a moment. they didn’t feel like a compliment. they felt like a reminder—one she didn’t need. being strong wasn’t a choice. it was just something she had to be.

the session dragged on, filled with more questions jane didn’t want to answer and silences she couldn’t fill. by the end of it, she was exhausted, her body heavy with emotions she still didn’t know how to name.

jieun picked her up after the session, her usual warm smile in place as she waved from the car. jane slid into the passenger seat, her silence as thick as the tension in her chest. she felt jieun’s eyes on her along with the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

“how was it?” the older woman finally asked, her voice light but careful. jane stared out the window, watching the world blur past. “it was fine,” she muttered. the words were flat, stripped of anything that might invite more questions.

her grandmother didn’t press her, but as they pulled into the driveway and parked, she turned to the smaller girl with a softness that made the girl’s chest ache. “do you want to go back next week? you don’t have to if it’s too much.”

jane hesitated, her fingers curling around the strap of her backpack. the weight of the question pressed down on her. did she want to go back? did she want to sit in that room again, feeling like she was being pried open? did she want to pretend that someone else’s words could fix the cracks that had already run so deep?

“no,” she said finally, her voice quiet, even as her chest tightened further. “i don’t want to go back.”

jieun nodded, her expression unreadable. she didn’t argue, didn’t try to convince jane otherwise. “okay,” she said softly. “that’s okay.”

but as they walked into the house and ivory retreated to her room, she couldn’t shake the hollowness that had settled inside her. she dropped her bag to the floor and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. the session had left her drained, not relieved. the therapist’s words echoed in her mind, the attempt at comfort ringing hollow.

"you must be very strong."

strong wasn’t enough. pretending to be strong didn’t make the loneliness go away, didn’t fill the spaces where words failed, didn’t erase the ache that came from being so close to someone and yet feeling so far away.

this wasn’t going to work, she knew that now. she couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep sitting in rooms with people who wanted her to explain the things she barely understood herself. no one’s words were going to fix it.

no one’s reassurances were going to be enough. no matter how many fancy degrees or framed certificates they had hanging on their walls, they didn’t have the answers she needed. they couldn’t untangle the mess inside her head or quiet the ache in her chest. every question felt like a spotlight on something she wanted to keep in the dark, every answer she gave felt like handing over a piece of herself she wasn’t ready to share.

ivory sat on the edge of her bed, her hands gripping the comforter as if it might anchor her. the house was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed in on her and made her feel smaller. she thought of her grandmother downstairs, probably pretending not to worry, probably thinking about what to tell her mother later. for now she’d be giving her space, because that’s what jieun always did.

but space wasn’t what jane wanted. not really. what she wanted wasn’t something she could name, and it definitely wasn’t something anyone could give her. it wasn’t something she’d find in a therapist’s office, no matter how soft their voice or kind their eyes were.

her chest felt tight again, like it might collapse in on itself. she pressed her palms flat against her legs, grounding herself, but the weight of everything she was carrying still felt like too much.

this wasn’t going to work. jane had always known, deep down, that it wouldn’t. and now, staring at the cracks in her ceiling, she let that truth settle over her like a blanket. no one could fix this for her.

and no one’s words—not a therapist’s, not jieun’s—were ever going to be enough.

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CLOSED.

[estrellami-1]

Lavender Letters

To those of you who celebrate, who have something worth celebrating… happy Thanksgiving. To everyone else, happy random Thursday!

Part 8

“S-something else?” Steve parrots.

“That’s right. I’m going to put my hand on your body.” He grabs Steve’s wrist, grins at the gasp that gets him. “And you tell me if you like it there. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

“So how about here?” He tightens his grip, smiles at the whine Steve lets out.

“Y-yeah.”

“Oh, I know you do, sweet boy. You’re so expressive.”

“Eddie-”

“Mhm?” He pulls back a little, enough to see Steve’s face. Steve just gasps, little breaths in and out. “You like sayin’ my name, sweet thing?” He pulls Steve’s hand behind his back and nudges forward, causing them to brush together. He inhales shakily as Steve moans quietly. “You got an upstairs we can go to, sweetheart? Somewhere I can take you apart?”

Steve sways forward, catching himself just before their lips brush. “I’ve- I’ve got a room upstairs,” he says. “But I’m not- I can’t-”

Eddie pulls his hand to his side again, locks their fingers together. “You can’t?”

“They’re gonna hear.”

“How do you feel about gags?”

Steve shakes his head. Even the thought seems to clear his head some. “No gags. Or- or blindfolds. Or restraints.”

“But my hand around your wrist?”

“That’s fine. You’re touching me. But- but no restraints that aren’t you. Or, um. I could try? If you want me to grab the headboard and not move. I could try.”

Eddie hums. “Nah, I think I like you touching me too much. But we’re out of luck until the party’s over, huh?”

Steve turns sad eyes up at him, nods.

Eddie smiles, touches his finger to Steve’s chin. “That’s alright. We can take it slow for a couple of hours. Get to know each other even better.”

Steve smiles. “Like what?”

Eddie hums exaggeratedly, tapping his finger on his chin. “Favorite sound?”

Steve laughs. “I have two. First is rain. I love hearing rain, especially as I’m falling asleep.”

“Nothing better,” Eddie agrees. “And your second?”

Steve colors. “When Robin sleeps over she talks in her sleep sometimes, and I’ll wake up to hear it. And it reminds me that I’m safe.”

Eddie smiles. “My favorite sound is Wayne’s snoring. It’s not overly loud, but sometimes I’ll sit just behind my door and listen to him sleep until I’m close enough to get back into bed and drift off. I think it’s sweet that Robin’s yours.”

Steve looks down. “Would it bother you if I could never listen to your music? Or never learned how to play DnD?”

“Would you let me rant to you about it? You wouldn’t even have to pay attention, really, or remember anything. Just let me talk at you about it, and don’t get annoyed when I want to talk about it.”

“Of course.”

Eddie grabs his hands, smiles. “Then I promise to do the same about whatever you want.”

Steve grins. “Even if it’s sports?”

“I’ll even watch it with you,” Eddie promises.

“You will?”

“I mean, I’ll at least sit in the same room. No promises that I’ll remember anything.”

“That’s okay. Robin’s the same way. Lucas—did I tell you about him? L?”

Eddie hums. “I think so… most polite? Wicked sharp tongue? Is that him?”

Steve beams. “Yeah, exactly! He likes sports, basketball, and sometimes we’ll play together.” He angles a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got a hoop in the back. He’s getting really good.”

“I should hope so, if he’s playing with you. How about football?”

Steve hums. “I like watching it, but playing it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not with the concussions I have.”

“Wayne likes watching it, too. Maybe you could come over, watch a game with him. I know he’d appreciate it.”

Steve’s eyes shine. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He leans sideways against the counter, facing Steve. “Can I ask about the concussions? Or NDAs?”

Steve deflates. “I want to tell you.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“Besides the fact that I fully believe the government’s got ears here? I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

Eddie hums, leans closer. “Well either way, I’d like to take you out one day in my van. Somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, where you can be as loud as you want.” He leans in and whispers, “or say whatever you want.” He pulls back with a smirk. “What do you think?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “I think I want to kick everyone out,” he murmurs, “but I also think Robin would never let me live it down if I did.”

Eddie chuckles, pulls away. “Drink your water,” he suggests. “Let’s take some time, dance a little. Socialize. Let Robin know I’m here for a good time and a long time.”

Steve takes a few big gulps of water. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” he says slowly. “In the best way possible.”

Eddie grins sharply at him. “That’s the plan, big boy.”

He winks.

Steve gulps.

This is going to be fun.

[drenosa]

Thug 1: So boss, what are we gonna do about this... John? Joe? That Arc fellow.

Roman: Oh that's easy my good fool of a mook. We stay, the absolute fuck, out his way!

Thug 2: He's been steamrolling into Torchwick turf! Why are we not pushing back?!

Roman: Because half the city's criminal underworld just up and went tits up. They all joined his side in just a single month. A guy literally no-one has ever heard of until a month ago. A guy so unassuming building that kinda clout in that short of a time? That guy's trouble. Big time.

Thug 1: Where's this guy getting all this influence from anyway?

Roman: No idea, but it has to be from the outside. Atlas and Mistral have always been trying to claw into our markets. And Vacuo might claim to not give a damn, but they've got plenty of eyes and ears and Lien to throw around here too.

Thug 1: So we just gonna bend over and let these two-bit posers pound us?

Thug 2: Without even giving us a little reach-around to ease the tension?

Roman: Colourful... analogies aside, no. We lie low, send envoys and proposals and get negotiating. As it stands we might be no longer the top-dog in this city, but that doesn't mean we'll be denied our cut.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nora: *Jumps out from around a corner, followed more sedately by Ren* Heya, Don-Jaune!

Jaune: Gah! Nora, don't just jump me like that. And stop calling me Don-Jaune. It's silly.

Nora: It's factually correct is what it is.

Jaune: ...

Nora: ...

Jaune: *Sighs* What news do you have this time?

Nora: Oh, right! One of those red-tied Matchstick men came by with a... Call for Parsley? Not sure why they want us to pick up some groceries for them, but the criminal mind is weird one.

Jaune: *Blinks at Nora before he looks over to Ren* ...

Ren: Torchwick turf wants to parley with you. No details about what they want to talk about, but I can guess.

Jaune: Why do they want to talk we me?! Weiss' the one who knows how this stuff all works. I just stand or sit there, whilst everyone cowers, kowtows or both for some reason.

Ren: Weiss is already setting up the meeting. Not a whole lot of places left where every boss can agree on, since most of the neutral territories came out in support of you. Might have to do this with someone guaranteeing safe passage and hosting this in their turf.

Nora: Could always just pay them a visit in person. Junior's Bar basically has a walk-in policy after Yang visited.

Ren: We could... but we should not.

Nora: What?! Why? *Hears a buzzing sound* Huh?

Jaune: Oh, I'm that's me getting a call... *Takes out his Scroll* from Weiss? Hey Weiss, wha-

Weiss: *Frantic over the Scroll* Whatever Nora's planning... NO!

Nora: Wha- How'd you know I wanted to go?

Ren: *Off-hand* She's learning quickly.

Jaune: *Answering Weiss* I... think we're good on that front.

Weiss: *Sighs in relief* Thank the Brothers. In any case, I am almost finished with setting up the talks. Details will be sent to everyone by the end of the afternoon. Messengers will be sent out right after. *Hangs up without further explaination*

Jaune: ...

Ren: You know what to do, Don-Jaune.

Jaune: *Hangs his head from slumped shoulders* Just sit there and have everyone cower or kowtow before me...

Nora: Or both!

Ren: Or both.

Jaune: Yeah... or both.

The dream team... #3? (I don't know)

In a bad part of town.

Weiss: *Nervous looking around* Jaune, are you sure this place isn't dangerous?

Jaune: Relax Weiss, we've walked around here a bunch of times and nothing bad has happened to us. Right, Ren?

Ren: *Nods* Correct.

Weiss: Well, if you say so.

Out of nowhere a somewhat large group of dangerous people appears.

Leader: Hey, what are you clowns doing on my block? If you don't want to get hurt, I suggest you leave.

Weiss: (I knew it was dangerous!) Jaune, we better do what he says and…

Jaune: *Serious and confuse* Your block?! Ren, can you tell me who owns this block?

Ren: *He takes out a map* Jaune, according to this map, we own this block. *He shows a map of the entire city with the name JNR*

At that moment Nora takes out her grenade launcher and points it at the group of so-called thugs.

Jaune: You heard my friend, right? Or do you want to see what comes out of my dear friend's grenade launcher?

Leader: Wow! W-We are so sorry sir. We don't want any trouble, w-w-we're leaving now.

Jaune: *Smiling* Excellent! Now that we were able to resolve this misunderstanding... *Serious* ..run.

Leader: Yes sir!!

The group runs away with their tails between their legs.

Weiss: (What kind of criminals do I have as teammates?!)

[bidisasterevankinard]

Fic idea that maybe someone would love to write: so 3 years passes after break up, Tommy meets a man, he starts date him, but casually, he doesn't do serious anymore. But he starts catching feelings and goes to talk the guy, only to find out the guy is married and he's husband is sick with cancer/paralyzed after car crash. So the guy needs only sex and for his husband to not find out

Tommy feels sick. He helped cheated!!!!! He wants the man to know. He deserves not to have this backstabber around, only Tommy finds out the husband in questions is ... Evan Buckley. His Evan

Tommy knew Evan got married, he got to be friends with Chim and Eddie after 6 months, when he could be around them without thinking about Evan too much. But everyone was careful, so much that Tommy and Buck never saw each other all those years. Barely heard news about each other too

Now Tommy feels so so much worse and question himself if he actually should tell Evan, maybe for Evan, for now better not to know? But anyway, Eddie has engagement party and both Tommy and Buck ate going to be there and Eddie makes sure they are fine with it

When Tommy is there he is careful but makes comments to the husband till Eddie calls him out in another room. and Tommy breaks and tells Eddie. Eddie sighs. Buck started to suspected something already a month after diagnosis/crush. I thought he just feels insecure

Now Eddie knows and Tommy begs him to help. Eddie agrees. Next day, Eddie gets Buck alone in his house and they tell everything to him. Buck with red eyes tells them that he's not surprised. Because really he's barely someone wants when he's on his best. But now? Who would actually love him?

He asks them to get him home. He files for divorce and as he was the one to buy the house before wedding, before they started dating he kicks the man out

Tommy comes to see him some dsys later. Buck says thank you. And then I guees you were right. First is never last. I was his first

Tommy feels sick and sad, but Buck says he's thankful. Really. Without proof he would let this man do it to him for years

Then Buck says you can come home, Tommy. Get back to the game you played to not see me. I promise nothing else would make us meet again

That's how Tommy finds out Eddie and Chim and Buck knew he did anything he could to not see Buck and Buck asked them to keep it that way. because he wanted Tommy have them and not to make himself get around Buck

[monstersinthecosmos]

I read your answer, where did you say "Pandora is his actual type and Armand was his pet"

But how could Armand be just a pet for him? He is one of only three of his turned children. Marius speaks of him as the greatest love (along with Pandora). Although I see some hypocrisy in this. Marius loves no one as much as Pandora. But certainly more than just a pet

Well !

Babe the thing is that, I said what I said and it’s okay if you don’t agree!!! And I’m gonna take this opportunity to double down. (Assuming that you’re asking in good faith and not to pick on me for my analysis lmao please this fandom has traumatized me too much.)

(((TLDR the text never treats Armand like he’s Marius’s equal but also I never said that being a pet was a bad thing.)))

I want to start by talking about the concept of MAKER in VC and how canon tells us that vampires exist outside of human social constructs, including traditional family roles right? Like for example, the moment Gabrielle is turned, she ceases to be Lestat’s mother. 

But with Marius I think a lot about how he’s crafted a persona for himself, and tries to operate in a very rigid set of rules. And part of this is like, how determined he is to live by stoicism even when he’s a mess on the inside, but I also think about in TVL when he says that thing about how it’s easier to just knock a glass on the floor, and how he goes out of his way to appear more human and retain human gestures. 

So like, in the way a MAKER is kinda like, a parent/lover/companion/something too big for our tiny human minds to comprehend. We still get a Marius who is determined to be a father & mentor, and I think a lot about how his need for stoicism and humanity is probably also expressed with his need to be the paterfamilias. 

I’ve been also thinking a lot lately about Bad Fathers in Media—specifically people like Tony Soprano, Logan Roy, Roderick Usher—and how the toxic patriarchy affects their relationships with their sons. Tony Soprano in particular is one who resonates with me a lot when I think about Marius—Tony often indulges in anger because he enjoys being feared (he thinks it’s respect but it’s usually fear), and that’s a bit different on a material level from Marius “anger is too pathetic” de Romanus but they’re both sort of obsessed with the idea of stoicism and trying to be a ~ strong silent type ~ on the outside, even when they’re actually quite messy and emotional underneath.

But wait — put a pin in this for a second. We’ll come back to this, and the concept of fathers and sons. I want to pause real quick to swerve to clarify:

Armand being a pet isn’t a bad thing.

It wasn’t “pet (derogatory) 😒” —  it’s “pet (adorable creature that I care for) 🥰”.

Here’s the thing about MARIMAND if you will (I hate ship the VC ship names oh my god theyre all hideous lmao) but like OKAY OKAY. THE THING IS. WHAT ARE WE HERE FOR IF WE’RE NOT INTO THE FUCKEDUPEDNESS ? 

Like I’m not telling anyone how to enjoy a ship, please have fun ! Do you! But to ME? That inter-species friction and 1,517 year age gap is like WHAT THE DYNAMIC IS ABOUT, THAT’S THE FLAVOR BABY!!! Anne Rice herself even said the book was about “a boy’s love for a monster” !!

WHAT’S THE POINT OF MONSTERFUCKER EROTICA IF HE’S NOT A MONSTER LOL

And YEAH I get that not everyone wants to read TVA as a monsterfucker story. That’s okay! It also reads as a savior fantasy. But I enjoy the messiness of it—I LIKE that Marius is an apex predator & ghoulish ancient thing. I like that it’s problematic. I LOVE that Marius really does love him, though, amidst all these other themes. I find it SO compelling.

But I never once said that Marius doesn’t love him. Of course Marius loves him. What I said is that he loves Armand the way we love a pet. I would fucking die for my cats. I regularly burst into tears looking at my cats because I love them so much. But they’re fucking cats lmao.

I never for one minute forget that Marius isn’t human. He’s operating on a whole different wavelength with different points of references and ethics and life experiences. Like, people get so hung up on Armand being 17 and IT WOULD BE JUST AS BAD IF HE WAS 18 OR 25 OR 30 LOL. A frail little human cannot comprehend !!!!!

What’s interesting with Marius’s fledglings though is that he tends not to treat them as equals. Like I think you could read TVA thinking: Once Marius turns him, they’ll be real partners. But no, they stick to their mentor/mentee, dom/sub, father/son roles. We don’t have tons of examples in canon of other maker/fledgling relationships but it’s not a coincidence that Roman Patriarch Marius maintains status over his fledglings. Even once Armand is a vampire, he’s still not Marius’s equal, and Marius’s age and power are still held over him. 

BUT LIKE.

That’s weird, right?

I MEAN THE DARK GIFT IS DIFFERENT FOR EVERYONE but it’s interesting to me that Lestat & Gabrielle’s relationship completely dissolves once she’s a vampire, but Marius & Armand’s doesn’t.

(Sidebar that like, I think there’s also ways to acknowledge that if we think their relationship is good that it’s OKAY for them to maintain these roles because Armand WANTS to be his sub but let me focus on my point here. We should also make time to talk about diegetic BDSM and whether or not it’s appropriate to use a D/s framework for this discussion if the roles are baked into the text and not a choice for the characters and not a game they are agreeing to but that’s for another post.)

So back to the thing about fathers.

I’ve been thinking a lot about bad father characters, specifically Logan Roy and Tony Soprano (also bad mother Margaret Chenowith) and the impossible standards they give their children. Logan and Tony are both men who are disappointed in their sons for being soft, because they were able to provide better lives for their children. They both spoil their sons with all the material wealth that they did not have in their own lives. For Logan we see how badly he resents his kids—Kendall even accuses him of being jealous of what they have—and for Tony he seems to be at a loss on how to parse his feelings. Part of him literally hates AJ for being such a whimsical little fuckup, and at the same time he wants to protect that part of AJ and doesn’t even WANT AJ to follow in his footsteps. Still, he hates to see that AJ is spoiled with no work ethic, and doesn’t know how to set an example for him.

Everything in Venice is designed to spoil Armand with all the things Marius didn’t get—it’s such a specific & deliberate opposite of how Marius was turned. And I think him seeing Armand as a pet puts a little bit of distance between the hurt he’d feel if he thought of Armand as a true son, or even an equal. He doesn’t have to resent Armand for having it easier than he did, but also doesn’t have to feel extremely betrayed by Armand fitting in with the cult. Like, let’s never 4get that by the time Marius catches up with Armand, Armand is right at home and thriving with them. A CULT? THE THING THAT KILLED ME????? Marius has no idea what the fuck they did to him, he just knows that Armand settled in just fine and has discarded everything that Marius tried to teach him. 

I think these roles are appropriately all muddled because it’s VC—like we said, the No Social Constructs series—so like, how do we compare the words SON and PET and FLEDGLING and SUB, I’m not sure. But my point is that he’s never seen or treated Armand as an equal, and perhaps never even a full adult person. 

ARE THESE IDEAS CONFLICTING? A little. But that’s okay. Am I incoherent and ill-equipped to tackle this analysis or is it because Marius is not a consistent person and never quite lives up to the ideal he’s trying to be? Does he want Armand to be his pet but secretly has feelings? Does he fail at being a father figure? Is he brushing off his Big Big Emotions so that he doesn’t have to admit how wrecked and destroyed he is and how badly his feelings were hurt? Idk man. I’m sure you can send me another anon to tell me I’m wrong. 

I wonder sometimes if like, keeping Armand at this lower status (like a pet) actually protects Armand from Marius’s ire and disappointment. Marius is sort of a father, but sort of not. He’s crafted a role for himself that is never all the way sincere, and it allows him some space to protect his own feelings of betrayal and disappointment when it comes to Armand. Marius is also classically bad at following his own rules, and never quite sticks the landing on the people he’s trying to be. 

I can imagine a version of events where Armand does gain some ground with Marius, maybe pays his dues and matures into someone that Marius trusts and respects, but that’s not the version of events we get in canon. Marius turns Armand, Armand remains his pupil, they visit Kiev and Marius is jealous of Armand’s father, they make it all the way to the raid without Marius ever confiding about The Parents. Even in the present day, during a dispute, Marius tells Armand he has the savage & ignorant soul of a child. Even in the present day, Marius won’t stop calling him Amadeo!!!! 

And like!!!!! It feels like Marius is more upset about Santino wronging him by ruining his home and taking his toys than he is about what Santino did to ARMAND. It’s more about Marius’s own feelings and possessions than it is about Armand’s own feelings and experience of what happened. AN ARMAND FRIDGING, IF YOU WILL. 

Anyway.

By never seeing Armand as a complete person, Marius never has to feel threatened by him. We see this in toxic parents a lot. Like, I want you to be good, but I’m insecure if you’re better than me. Or I can never fully respect your feelings because I always see you as a child and not a fully grown adult. And the truth is that Marius is actually quite threatened by Armand, on the inside. He is very hurt. He cares what Armand thinks of him. He’s relieved at the end of BCtu when he assumes that Armand wants to open his heart again. 

So idk like. I think the books end with a little bit of a hope for them; we see a lot of growth and self-acceptance from Marius in the last book and it’s reasonable to assume that he and Armand might have a long chat and nice long cry and work it out. I don’t think it’s completely set in stone, but it’s nice to think about! A nice happy ending. And I wonder if this is when Marius finally takes Armand seriously and listens to what he has to say without demeaning him! 

Am I gonna add 2000 more words to this point by tying it what the whole like “I fear him because I could love him again” thing in TVA means? No I’m not. But like. Again! It’s okay to be a pet, I think Armand liked being his pet. :) 

[cherryssodapop]

you do know that Billy is racist right...

*sighhhhhhhh* Alright, here we go…

Typically I don’t like getting into this argument because you’re not supposed to argue with a POC about what’s racist and what isn’t (I don’t actually know if you are poc or not this is a general statement I’m making), I know I don’t because it just doesn’t feel right, but here’s the thing.

When it comes to this character the one line he said that everyone’s going crazy for I’m going to have to disagree here because it’s just 1. too vague of a statement, of course you could argue that Billy talking about Lucas’ skin colour is implied in his statement and I agree, but not for the reasons you think.

And 2. there’s a reason Dacre changed this scene with the duffers regarding Billy’s potential racism because you’re creating a character who’s an antagonist who originally had no reason to be bad (until Dacre suggested the scene with his father) and then you wanna add racism into the mix? if the duffers really wanted to bring up the issue of racism during the 80s especially in small secluded areas like Hawkins, I’m pretty sure it would’ve been an actual subplot, but no they just wanted to use it as an additional reason to make Billy’s character initially unlikeable and it was so poorly written into the script and also Dacre was just straight up uncomfortable acting out that whole sequence so we can safely say the concept of Billy being a racist is scrapped from canon all together. I’m explaining this from the perspective of a film student because you can’t write an antagonist without a plausible reason and motive to be bad, so Dacre humanizing him and giving him that back story and lore is exactly what you do when it comes to character work, especially for antagonists like Billy (unless you wanna make the villain a basic villain with a basic story arc who’s sole purpose is to get in the hero’s way and die trying but in this case Billy never did that. He never really got into anyone’s way besides at the end of season 2 but it’s because he had no idea what’s going on and in HIS mind he thinks he’s saving Max from a fucked up situation. And im not even going to start with season 3 because we all know; bro was possessed, he wasn’t himself, Vecna was acting out entirely through him Billy had no say in any of it. In fact he even showed remorse and shame during the little time Vecna let him be in control of himself before abruptly taking over.) Also, yes you can be from an educated and woke society (California is a blue state and the equal opportunities act in the states already passed and Billy leaves for hawkins in fall 1984 so it’s already well established in society at that time that being racist is not acceptable) and still be a bigot, but I really just don’t believe this is the case for Billy.

What I think the issue here is his father, now hear me out, hear me out.

In the book “Runaway Max” it is brought up that Neil is a huge supporter of Reagen who at the time was a republican and attempted to abolish the equal opportunities act bill but ultimately failed of course. Max even says it herself that Neil is racist and a white supremacist. What does that tell you? His father is the whole problem. Because we all know that Billy gets beaten and blamed for everything that happens whether it’s Max’s fault or his Neil will take any excuse to physically hurt Billy. And being how Neil is so adamant on Billy watching over Max and being in charge of her, what would happen if Neil caught Max with Lucas who is black and we know Neil’s views on that demographic of people? What do you think would happen?

Of course, we could also bring up that if Billy was racist it would be a learned behaviour from his father. Though, to be honest, considering how much Billy tries to rebel against his father, I think it’s safe to say that would include Neil’s morals and beliefs, so I highly doubt it.

Going back to my first point, I think Billy did say that about Lucas not because he hates Lucas but because his father would and would take out that well known hatred out on Billy. It was more of a warning for both of their safety because of how insane Neil is. That’s why I think Billy said that and acted that way in terms of their friendship because he doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of his father’s wrath.

We can also see this in season 3, when Billy is working full time, starting to take control of his life (likely saving up money so he could leave and move back to California) he doesn’t even care about what Max is doing let alone dating Lucas, he’s too busy trying to get his life together.

So no, I don’t think Billy is a racist and I’ve listed all of my reasons why from a canonical standpoint using evidence from the story, plus my own analysis on his character as an actor myself.

Now from a shifter’s standpoint; I really don’t wanna hear y’all judge my choice of S/O considering some of y’all shift for active psychopaths and murderers meanwhile I’m shifting for a dude who’s been deeply traumatized and wants to live his life in peace and find true love.

To conclude; this is entirely my opinion and my belief on the topic. If you believe the opposite you’re fully entitled to, no one’s gonna attack you or try to convince you otherwise. But the thing is with people like myself who like Billy’s character and indulge in his lore and fanfiction we’re constantly getting criticized and harassed and even as far as labeled as bad people just because we view him from a different perspective. I believe it’s time we all grow up and respect each other’s opinions because not everyone agrees with everyone and that’s the way of the world. freedom of thought freedom of speech.

(goddamn this was a long rant but i had to say my peace)

[devildom-moss]

May poll story

NSFW - Asmodeus x Solomon x MC

(Asmodeus x Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (switchy overall but slightly sub!Solomon) (poly/threesome) (no penetration; oral - receiving; handjob - Asmo giving Solomon; dry humping; so much kissing; light praise; bondage; facial; cum eating; photos; lots of teasing; marking/hickeys; "master" for Solomon by Asmo; voyeurism; no reader/MC sex organs specified)

Word Count: +4,400

Asmo was hosting an intimate Asmo Night with his two favorite humans. Some nights, he simply wanted a bit of attention from you both – affection from two people he knew adored him for who he was. Fans were nice, but he wanted to be around someone he had feelings for, and in your case, his love was so intense it almost matched his love for himself. A relaxing sleepover with you and Solomon seemed like the perfect way to get his fill of adoration.

As usual, Asmo was a wonderful host, preparing games, activities, and an abundance of snacks – although the latter was planned, in part, to dissuade Solomon from attempting to cook. If Solomon had brought homemade food, that would have ruined the entire night.

With a long night ahead of you, Asmo sipped his Demonus slowly, fearing intoxication; there would be other nights to get drunk around either of you, but tonight, he wanted to feel in control of everything – to savor every word, look, and sensation that he eagerly anticipated. Asmo wanted to remember the way Solomon’s eyes darted between his body and yours as the two of you danced to music he had put on – the way his gaze felt hungry like some vicious predator in that moment and how Solomon had smothered his desire as the song came to an end, trying not to initiate something so early in the night. He wanted to fully enjoy the warmth of your lips on his neck when you lost the card game that Solomon insisted be made a little more interesting by turning it into a punishment game – no doubt hoping luck would be on his side tonight, especially with Barbatos not in attendance. You were all too happy to agree to Asmo’s – slightly restrained – punishment. All he wanted was for you to leave a hickey on him in a place where everyone would see it. Out of all the things Asmo could have asked for, that almost seemed innocent. Asmo wanted to engrave the praise you and Solomon gave him when he put on an impromptu fashion show. Your words were honey-sweet, pooling on your tongues so enticingly that he could hardly resist kissing both of you and tasting the words in his mouth.

Later in the night, Asmo stretched, letting out a soft little moan, and got up. “I was thinking – maybe we could all take a nice long bath together, hmm~? My bath is big enough for all of us. What do you think?”

Solomon scoffed and shook his head, seeing right through Asmo’s offer. “No thanks. You just want to get us both naked.”

“Well, of course, hun. Can’t blame a demon for trying, can you~?” Asmo winked. “What about you, MC?”

“You’re really going to leave me all alone in your room? That’s hardly good hosting etiquette.” Solomon cocked his head to the side, as if it was a veiled threat. “Besides, if you two bathe alone together, who knows how long you’ll be in there.”

“Ugh, Solomon! You’re such a meanie!” Asmo huffed. “You won’t let me get a good look at that body of yours, and now you want to keep MC all to yourself.”

“By all means,” Solomon shrugged, “leave me to my own devices – unsupervised in your room. Or maybe I’ll go prepare a snack while you two add unnecessary steps to getting clean.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, Solomon!” you interjected quickly. He knew his cooking was universally considered a weapon, didn’t he? You’d never put it in such harsh words – but he had to understand that, right? “Besides, you’ll only get into trouble if you’re on your own for too long.”

Asmo caught your eyes, silently thanking you for sparing him – and everyone else in the House of Lamentation for that matter. “Anyway~ I’ll be back. Behave, you two.”

As Asmo made a hasty escape, Solomon smirked at you. “You don’t really think I’m so troublesome that I can’t be left alone, do you?”

It was clear to him that you had lied; after all, he knew his adorable apprentice inside and out. There was little that you could hide from him, but his self-confidence and desire wiped Solomon’s memory of his threat of extra-strength food poisoning; the only reason you wanted to stay with him that remained was because you were hoping for some alone time together. Solomon got up from Asmo’s hanging chair and walked over to you.

“Are you not troublesome?” you teased, inching over on the edge of the bed so Solomon could sit next to you.

Solomon chuckled, shook his head, and put one knee up on the bed next to your thigh. “Would you like me to be?”

“Meaning?” You gave Solomon a confused look, but as he straddled your lap and extended his arms behind your head, you knew exactly what he meant. Your eyes unintentionally darted towards Asmo’s bathroom door, worried that he would suddenly return.

“Fool around with me,” Solomon got closer and whispered in your ear, bringing your attention back to him.

“I don’t know, Sol.” It seemed mean to Asmo: making out – or more – with someone else in his bed while he was busy, especially on an Asmo night. If he walked in, saw that, and realized he wasn’t included, you thought, “Asmo might get pouty.”

Solomon’s low, gentle laugh rang in your ear before he began to kiss down your neck. “He’ll like it, trust me.”

Each kiss was slow and deliberate, aiming to leave his mark on you. Perhaps Solomon needed a way to remedy his jealousy from when you gave Asmo a hickey earlier – or perhaps he was simply overcome by his underlying desire to mark you as his own. Either way, Solomon continued to suck and nip down your skin until he was satisfied with his work. His hot breath, saliva, and the sweet moans that escaped his lips as he squirmed in your lap sent shivers up your spine. By the time he pulled away, your heart was racing.

“Oh!” Solomon grinned, took his wand out from his back pocket, and gave it a quick wave. You furrowed your brows; Solomon replaced his wand just as quickly as he had pulled it out. He brought his finger up to his lips and whispered, “had to cast a secret spell.”

“And you wonder why people think you’re shady? What did you do?” you laughed.

“I cast a spell to warm up Asmo’s towels for when he’s done with his bath.” Your heart melted immediately – only to feel jolted as Solomon added, “now, where were we?”

Solomon took advantage of the quickly-fading charm of his sweetness to push you on your back with a grin on his face. He leaned down close but hesitated slightly – waiting for any sign of resistance. “Please” formed silently on his lips, grazing yours in a chaste kiss, touching you lightly like a devotee may trace the outlines of an altar. You were sacred to Solomon; in all his years, he had never met another creature he regarded as so holy. No demon nor angel could have his worship like this. Every prayer that fell from Solomon’s lips was an act of love and devotion. Across all three realms, only you had given Solomon something worthy of divine adoration.

He could only hope that his reverence would translate, transcribed on your hallowed body with his lips and tongue. Solomon’s kisses grew deeper and more desperate, as if he was starved of your affection and intended to gorge himself on whatever love you offered. Nothing could come between him and his communion – not even the demon standing in the doorframe to the bathroom.

Kisses trailed down your neck as Solomon’s hand made its way under the hem of your shirt, teasing your bare skin with his fingertips. When he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, you could tell from his eagerness and attention to one particular area that he intended to mark you. Your brows knit together, but the ecstasy of Solomon’s lips was interrupted by the gentle biting feeling of someone else’s eyes on you, so you turned your gaze to the bathroom door.

Asmo’s eyes were half-lidded, and a seductive smirk sat on his face when he finally caught your eye. He held your gaze intently, as if determined to pull your attention away from Solomon for as long as he could. Only when Solomon panted hotly against your neck and softly, slowly dragged his nails along your stomach so lightly that your skin was as unaffected as a brilliant sapphire brushed over by a raven’s feather, causing you to shiver and gasp, did Asmo feel a compelling tinge of jealousy. His smile dropped, briefly slipping into a pout, before he resolved himself and strutted towards the two precious humans playing around in his bed.

Solomon felt Asmo’s presence, but he refused to acknowledge him until Asmo ran a lovely hand up Solomon’s back with an amused hum. “Just how far were you planning to go in my bed?”

“As far as I could,” Solomon admitted with a chuckle, sitting up and pressing his back against Asmo’s hand. “Problem?”

“May~be~” Asmo sang sweetly. “Depends on whose cute little idea this was. MC?”

“Solomon said you’d like it,” you blurted out under the scrutiny of Asmo’s honey-sweet tone. Solomon feigned offense and got off you so he could get a better look at Asmo, who was standing in a lovely pink silk robe decorated with red spider lilies and blood spatter, along with a matching bonnet.

“Betraying your own teacher?” Asmo hummed. “That’s my MC.”

“Yours?” Solomon scoffed and playfully added, “that mark on their neck isn’t your handiwork.”

You could feel the tension building in the room as Asmo’s affectionate stare turned from you towards Solomon with an inhuman wickedness – devious and sexy in a way that caused Solomon to shiver excitedly. Asmo cooed, “oh, poor Solomon. An appetizer sits in the stomach all the same, doesn’t it? I think MC’s had their fill of you, darling. I’m so gorgeous, I’m obviously the main course and dessert; isn’t that right, MC?”

The sense that Solomon and Asmo were trying to stake their claim on you was muddied by the seductive overtones and lustful stares they offered each other. Solomon was about to sit up and pull Asmo into a forceful, dominating kiss when Asmo snapped his fingers. The vines of roses that adorned Asmo’s bed shot out and quickly restrained Solomon, pulling him back towards the headboard.

At first, Solomon chuckled and weakly tugged against the vines, putting on a show of struggling. When he did, he felt the vines wind around him more – stronger than before. Solomon looked surprised and tried a low-level unbinding spell to loosen the restraints, but it only backfired. The vines moved further up his arms, and one slipped around his waist. Solomon could feel faint traces of his own magic imbued in the vines now, causing the roses to glow a soft pink. Panic flashed in his eyes briefly as he realized what Asmo had done, but it dissolved into amusement and arousal.

“Lucifer has some very interesting books on how to deal with powerful sorcerers,” Asmo giggled at Solomon. “You can struggle, but that will only make it worse. Only the caster can undo the spell.”

“Asmo!” You sat up in protest. That seemed a bit excessive. However, your concern for Solomon melted when he met your eyes with a soft smile.

“It’s fine,” he reassured you.

“Besides,” Asmo interjected, gently turning your head back to face him, “if he was against it, he’d use his pact on me and be free right away. Trust me.”

You did; you trusted them both, and so when Asmo slowly pushed you back down on the bed, you let him. His charm didn’t work on you the way it did with others, but it was so easy to allow yourself to slip under Asmo’s seductive spell. He was so lovely as he pushed your shirt up and slowly kissed down your stomach, brushing his lips over the places Solomon’s fingers had dared to touch. Solomon may have tried to claim you first tonight, but Asmo was determined to overwrite every bit of Solomon’s seduction until the only man you could think of was him; he was the Avatar of Lust, after all. Asmo was programmed to make you come undone at his hands.

Every kiss and puff of air that left Asmo made you tremble and shiver until your hand found his bedsheets and bunched the soft threads against your palm. He heard your movements and giggled, lifting his head slightly and staring up at you seductively. Your body continued to shake under his gaze despite the momentary relief from the pleasure of his lips on your skin. He sat up, removed his bonnet, and chucked it to the floor. Asmo gently loosened your tight grip around his sheets and held your hand briefly before bringing it up to his lips, leaving a lingering, sensual kiss on the tops of your fingers. Slowly, Asmo moved your hand up to his slightly damp hair and guided your hand into a ball until you were gripping it. “Be as rough or as gentle as you need.”

Asmo lowered himself back down to your body until his hair tickled your bare skin, leaving small pools of water where his hair touched you or where droplets fell. The cool sensation of drying water was juxtaposed with Asmo’s hot mouth as his kisses got slower, sloppier, and sexier. He kissed you like he was devouring a dessert with all the lewd sexiness of an adult streamer. The intimacy of it felt overwhelming. Each motion was a clear sign of affectionate dedication. Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would go to war for your pleasure and make all forms of perverse, depraved, and beautiful love for your safety. His entire world was you and Solomon in his bed right now, and nothing short of the catastrophic end of all three realms would dare interrupt his blissful peace.

His delicate and thoughtful touches convinced you that Asmo had every intention of unraveling you with his mouth. Even Solomon could sense it as he watched on in amusement. You began to feel self-conscious and needy. Choosing to attempt a diversion, you whined and squirmed away from Asmo’s touch, but he only followed your movements with intensified desire. He knew you were loving this, and if you wanted to pause, you’d have to muster up all your strength and use your words. Whimpering his name, you interrupted his ceremonious flood of devotion. “Asmo, please, wait. I should be spoiling you.”

“Nonsense,” Asmo chuckled, licking a long stripe up your stomach before continuing, “letting me turn you on is spoiling me.”

 Asmo pecked your lips lovingly, staring at you with overflowing adoration as he pulled away. It was almost unbearable. He pulled at every defense, like loosening the soft, satin ribbon of a corset, determined to undo your strength and set you at ease. With a heated smirk, Asmo looked up at you from between your thighs. Your clothes were disheveled – pants pulled unevenly around your hips, shirt pushed up to your chest, underwear peeking out over your pants, yet still exposing part of your ass. The only way you could look sexier, Asmo thought, was if he could get you out of those clothes, but he was far too eager and would settle for getting you out of your underwear.

Maintaining eye contact, Asmo slid your pants further down, and you lifted your legs to help him. They were tossed across the room as far as Asmo could manage while he was still fixated on you. He bent down to kiss your bare thigh, tickling you with his breath as he giggled. Mischievous as ever, Asmo quickly swiped his tongue over the wet spot on your underwear. The whimper he pulled from your lips delighted his ears.

“I love you,” Asmo whispered, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh once more. The tenderness in his voice melted your thoughts and stalled your tongue so that his declaration went unanswered – not that Asmo needed a reply when he pulled back and looked at you splayed beneath him. If this was not an act of love between you, then love must be more myth than reality.

Your underwear was discarded on the bed next to Solomon’s thigh – Asmo’s subtle attempt to tease him: leaving your damp underwear in his line of sight, just out of reach. Solomon tugged against his restraints with an annoyed sigh only for the vines to snap right back into place.

In a gentle display of strength, Asmo lifted you and repositioned your body so that you were laying with your head at the foot of the bed. On his knees, he looked down at you again. If only you were wearing my shirt, too, he thought. When Asmo bent down to kiss your inner thighs, Solomon was graced with the sight of Asmo’s gorgeous ass – a show that Asmo was well aware he was putting on, evidenced by the subtle roll of his hips as he moaned against your skin. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, then he was too sexual for his own good.

The feeling of soft lips, hot breath, and vibrating moans melted every thought in your mind, and just seconds before a plea for more escaped your lips, Asmo pulled away. You whimpered, making an almost pathetic sound. Asmo giggled, thrilled by your cute desperation. “Ready for more, luv?”

“Mhmm.” You looked down at him, catching his burning gaze. He was loving this. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of Solomon staring at you just as intensely. His cheeks flushed bright pink from the sound of your voice alone, but even the obscured sight of you on your back, waiting for Asmo’s next move so eagerly and obediently, had him throbbing in his pants.

“Good,” Asmo sighed in relief. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Asmo sunk down further than before, kissing you quickly before giving you a gentle lick. You gasped, and he rewarded you by sticking out his tongue, wet with saliva, and leaving it against you for a few seconds as he giggled, allowing you to simply feel the warm slick of his mouth.

Lust – as a pure essence – seeped from Asmo’s tongue. How else could you explain the aphrodisiacal effects he had on your body? It appeared effortless for him to leave you squirming and rolling your hips up against his mouth. Those lovely lips made a mess of you. Loud, needy moans that humiliated all who heard them served as proof of the sexual expertise of the demon between your legs. Your mind clouded. Your breath shortened. Your head lolled back.

You were being so perfect and pretty for Asmo that he couldn’t hold his own need back. His hips lowered just enough so he could leisurely grind against his bed, compounding his pleasure as he continued to taste and tease you. Asmo’s own moans reverberated against you and played as a beautiful accompaniment to your own that drove Solomon wild. Sexually intoxicating you was Asmo’s sole focus – entirely undisturbed until a soft groan from Solomon caught his ear – the sort that indicated a shameful degree of frustration that only made Asmo pull away from you slightly with a giggle. You whined.

“Poor thing,” Asmo cooed quietly, and, for a second, you weren’t sure whether he was talking about you or Solomon. “Should we give Solomon a bit of attention, too, MC?”

As much as you wanted Asmo to keep going, the opportunity to expand your circle of unearthly pleasure excited you – and you knew Asmo would never leave you unsatisfied. Head still hazy, you offered a slow nod as you shakily sat up. Asmo saw your unsteadiness and rose to meet you; a stabilizing hand found the back of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you affectionately. Your taste lingered on his tongue, shared with you through a deepening kiss that was cut cruelly short, the ache of which was only soothed by the adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he stared back at your bliss-stained face.

“My love is too beautiful.” Asmo cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips before prompting your mouth open with it, “and so good, too.”

You bit down on him gently, earning a delighted laugh.

“Fuck,” Solomon sighed, growing impatient and eager for attention. The sight of you and Asmo flirting and being romantic was riling him up, stirring up this dark, predatory aura that dimmed the glow of the roses from a soft pink to a mysterious lavender. Even in the lowered lights, you saw his need and desperation cleanly – compressed and carefully restrained, ready to be made a mess of.

“My poor master,” Asmo giggled teasingly, turning and crawling over to Solomon, leisurely and wordlessly requiring for the release of his thumb – as if he was reluctant to let the appendage leave your mouth without proper attention. Perhaps another time, but at this moment, Solomon’s body called to him. Asmo leaned down, getting a closer look at the twitching tent in Solomon’s pants and running a single finger up it. “Should I give you a hand?”

“Just a hand?” Solomon scoffed. All that teasing and waiting, and the only thing you’ll give me is a hand, Solomon thought, pretty little brat.

“Trust me,” Asmo spoke sweetly enough to appease the great sorcerer, “you’ll like it.”

You and Solomon watched on in anticipation as Asmo undid Solomon’s pants and slid them slowly down his hips. To your surprise, Solomon’s cock sprang up.

“You naughty boy~” Asmo teased, “no underwear~? You weren’t expecting this, were you?”

“You really are a slutty old man,” you chuckled and approached him. Before Solomon could protest, you caught his lips in a heated kiss so intense that his embarrassment leaked from the tip of his cock. Asmo used it to lube up his hand in slow, circular motions around the head before he started stroking Solomon in equally slow motions. A rumbling sigh fed you and died in the back of your throat as Solomon eagerly accepted your kiss. That deep, debauched sound contrasted with the soft, submissive whimper that left his lips as you pulled away and attempted to cling to you.

“Grind on my ass, MC,” Asmo instructed, interrupting your kiss-induced haze.

“What?” you asked, playfully amused.

“Hump me, silly,” Asmo giggled and shook his ass for you slightly – still focusing on pleasuring Solomon. “Let me make you both feel good.”

You pet Asmo’s head gently before you positioned yourself behind him. With a firm grip, you pulled him flush against your hips and started to grind against his soft ass, earning an aroused “oh.” Solomon’s eyes met yours, and despite being bound by vines, he smirked at you, as if he could read your mind. Maybe it was the eroticism of the situation, but as you rolled your hips into Asmo’s, all you could think was fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good. Or maybe Solomon knew what you were thinking because the same thought crossed his mind.

“Do my soft, pretty hands feel good, master~?” Asmo asked, looking up a Solomon with the loveliest eyes – a look that unfortunately went ignored as Solomon watched your face contort in pleasure. Asmo’s only response was Solomon’s desperate attempt to thrust his hips up into Asmo’s hand at the same pace as you were humping his ass; it said enough, and the demon was all melodic giggles.

Was it Asmo’s warm, soft skin, or Solomon’s burning gaze holding you, or the moans of both men that filled the room? Maybe Asmo was using a spell on you? Something intensified the pleasure, and before you could figure out what was getting you so worked up, you were cumming against Asmo’s ass.

Asmo could feel you pulsing as your grinding slowed but refused to stop; a part of you still wanted more – couldn’t bear to separate your body from his. Asmo took advantage of Solomon’s evident excitement at getting to watch you cum and sped up his movements, pulling more lewd noises from Solomon.

“Fuck, please?” Solomon whined mindlessly, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I know~” Asmo cooed. “Be a good master and cum on my face, ‘kay?”

Solomon was so focused on biting back his moans that he couldn’t even manage a nod. Instead, he replied by following orders and spurting cum all over Asmo’s pretty face. Asmo looked up at Solomon; that lovely face that he had made a mess of made Solomon’s cock twitch. Asmo leaned in to kiss Solomon and stretched his arm over to the nightstand, grabbing his D.D.D. and opening the camera app. He pulled away with a seductive smile, turned, and handed you the device.

“Take a flattering picture, luv,” Asmo grinned. He wasn’t going to upload this moment; some things were too intimate to share – but not so intimate that proof of it should stay confined in memories. You snapped a few pictures – some lovelier than others, but one in particular caught your attention as you scrolled back. You showed it to Asmo for his nod of approval. He took his phone from your hand and gently tossed it on the bed so he could caress your face with both hands. “Beautiful.”

You weren’t sure if he meant you or the photo – or maybe you were, but you were too embarrassed to admit that the Avatar of Lust looked at a photo of himself and still turned to you in admiration, in worship. Yet, you, like a disciple, leaned in and began to clean his face with your tongue. Asmo was giddy at your touch, but with each slow trail your tongue traced, fervent arousal grew in him. Even Solomon, confined to watching, felt himself getting hard once more. He was enamored – so much so that he waited until you had cleaned every drop of cum off Asmo’s face before he dared interrupt by clearing his throat.

Asmo laughed and snapped his fingers, freeing Solomon from his binds.

Solomon chuckled, “you sure know how to show a few humans a good time.”

“It’s not over yet, is it?” You glanced down at Solomon’s crotch quickly.

“Of course not,” Solomon got to his knees and kissed Asmo’s forehead sweetly, placing his hand on the base of Asmo’s neck, as he stared at you lovingly, propositioning you. “Let’s give you a fun Asmo night.”

Once again, you weren’t sure who was at the receiving end, but you were certain night would bleed into morning. If the Devildom had a sun, your lovemaking would greet the sunrise in equal beauty.

(A/N: please ignore that this is half a year late and please enjoy the content. Turns out Obey me is almost done, but I'll keep giving you content to make you feel stuff for a while.)

[magicalbuttertarts]

Damian Priest x f/Reader (18+) (AU)

WWE Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: unprotected sex. P in v sex. Anal sex. Cum oral (m & f receiving) use of dildo. Creampie. Marriage.

WC: 2335

Gifs & photos do not belong to me: 1st gif: @fireflyeditzz

©️magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Idea came because @floofysashimi shared the title photo.

"Okay, okay, that is enough practice for today." Our drummer & backup singer, Rhea called out as I sighed, hanging my head as I gripped my guitar a bit too tight for my liking.

"We still have a few hours left until we should call it quits." The electronic keyboard player, Dominik said as he wrapped his arms around our other backup singer, Liv's waist, pulling her against his side.

Our Bass player, Finn was only walking off with some groupies.

"We will be back here tomorrow for the music video." I called out, already regretting doing this music video.

I didn't want too, but our manger insisted that our band Judgement Day, should.

"You good Damian?" Rhea asked me as she walked up to me.

She is the only one who knows me better than I know myself.

People thought we were together, but we are actually just really good friends. Her husband is a good guy, and will randomly travel with us on the road.

"Just don't think those three give a fuck about this anymore. Finn is always late and wondering where his next lay will come from, and don't get me started on Dominik and Liv."

"Okay, calm down there big fella. Let's go out and have some fun. Maybe a few hours at the club will ease your stress." Rhea suggested.

"Buddy meeting us?" Knowing she only goes out when he is in town.

"Yeah, got us in the VIP section at XS Las Vegas."

"Fine. I'll go. Just to see what the fuss is about with it. I have heard about it."

The music was loud, the woman were all over me like usual, but I know what they are after. Just one night with me to brag to all of their friends about spending the night with Damian Priest, lead singer of Judgement Day.

Rhea and Buddy were all over one another, as were Dominik and Liv.

The four of them were making me almost nauseated, so I decided to leave tbe VIP section and head outside to grab some fresh air.

But as I did that, I walked right into someone, my arms wrapping around them to keep from falling.

Their hands are laying on my chest and I was about to ask if they were okay as I looked down and for once in my life, no words came to me as I looked down at the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

I saw them mouth, "Are you okay?" And all I could do was nod my head yes.

I leaned down to whisper in their ear, "Can I buy you a drink?" They nodded their head yes, and the two of us walked back to the bar for me to replace the drink I spilled.

◆

I brought her back to the VIP section, and the only thing I caught was her name before we started to make out.

I pulled her into my lap, not caring for once if people were taking photos of me, as I wanted everyone to know that I have the most beautiful woman in my arms, kissing me as she grinded her body on top of me.

"Come back to my hotel room." I muttered against the kiss, making her whine my name before agreeing.

The two of us left my band members behind, her hand in mine as walked us out of the club and to the Uber that is waiting outside for us.

◆

I woke up the morning, with her gone, with only a few things to remind me of her.

Her lipstick stained against my skin.

The indents of where she dug her nails into my skin.

I licked my lips, groaning at the faint taste of her pussy still lingering on my lips, as I ate her out until she pushed me away, begging for me to fuck her.

Her gasps and moans echoing in mind as I started the shower.

I looked over my body, looking over all the little marks she left on me, and then my eyes were focused on my cock.

Her bouncing in my lap flashed before my eyes and I groaned at the thought of how tight her fucking pussy was. How it felt like it was trying to strangle my cock.

Then I noticed the red stain on my cock, remembering how she applied her lipstick once more just before she sucked me off.

Her eyes closed as she took me down her throat and then how her eyes teared up as I fucked her face until I came, groaning her name as I felt her swallow it all.

When I pulled back from her mouth, she smiled at me, opening her mouth to prove that it was all gone.

All I could do was moan as I picked her up to throw her on the bed, crawling between her thighs and fucking her into the mattress until her body wash shaking and my cum leaking out of her abused pussy.

The alarm on my phone brought me back down to earth, making me swear under my breath as I hopped into the shower, washing away our night together.

◆

"Places everyone. We will film just the band, and then the model will come after." The director called out from his seat.

"Not even the makeup crew could get rid of that hickey on your chest huh?" Rhea teased me as she walked past me.

"I see someone had a good time." Finn said next to me, lifting his sunglasses and wincing at the lights, before placing them back on.

"Okay, yes, I had a good time. Not let's get this done and over with." I said, loudly.

"You gonna see her again?" Liv asked me, as she stood next to Dominik.

"Most likely not. Only caught her first name."

"Once again, please people. Good good. Dim the lights. Good, good, action."

Time to get this day started.

◆

"Okay, bring out the girls." I gringed when the director called them that.

I could hear the sound of their heels and boots walking this way, and I was talking to Finn about what we are going to do next, when I heard the Director call for us to take our places once more.

I was assigned one model who would I would jump off the stage for and pretend to dance with as the music played around us.

"Damian, you see her, the one right in the middle, you were jump down and walk to her, okay."

I looked over at who he was pointing at, and I almost chocked on my spit.

It was her.

The woman from last night.

Her and I made eye contact, and her eyes got real wide as she saw me standing there, looking at her.

"She is gorgeous. Your manager picked good." The Director whistled, but stopped when he saw me turn my gaze to him.

He cleared his throat and told us to start.

I stood in my spot, watching her, to make sure she didn't disappear like she did this morning.

◆

The music was playing as I mouthed the words to the song I wrote.

It is time for me to jump off the stage and walk towards her, the other people fading into the background as the room went dark, except for her and I.

She pretended to walk away, but I pulled her back towards me, her hands landing on my chest just like yesterday when we met.

I placed my hand under her chin for her to look at me, as my other arm pulled her flush against my body.

Her perfume making me groan to myself before I kissed her, which wasn't in the script for the video, but the director kept rolling until the music faded away, the two of us still making out with everyone around us.

"I think we got it. All done for the day everyone. Good job."

People clapped around us, as I pulled my lips away from her, her eyes were half-closed as she looked up at me.

"Damian? We will meet up with you later." Rhea called out, pulling Dominik and Finn with her, with Liv most likely giggling.

"Come back with me again, or if you are hungry, we can go out to eat." I asked her once more.

"Damian, it was fun for one night, but it wouldn't work between us." She said.

"Why not?"

"You travel and I do as well. We wouldn't see eachother."

"Then come back for one last night together. I can't get you out of my head." I was honest with her.

"One more night, Damian."

◆

As I sat on our private plane, I looked out the window as I watched the video I recorded of us, the sounds of our love making going directly to my ears through my headphones.

"Just like that Damian. Fuck." She cried out as I rutted into her from behind, my cock buried in her pussy as I pushed her head into the mattress, her head turned towards the camera.

Her screaming out my name as she came, her pussy fluttering around my cock as she pulled an orgasm from my body.

I watched myself reach for my phone to zoom on her pussy, which was leaking my cum.

I watched another video of me between her spread thighs, her hand gripping my head as her other hand held the camera to record me eating her out.

Soft whines of my name I could hear as I ate her out, my eyes focused on her face, that I could not see on the camera.

Her body arched as she came, moaning loudly as ate her out and fingered her. I pulled my mouth away, and I could see my chin coated in her juices.

I licked my lips imaging the taste of her was still there.

Video after video played, and I had to go to the washroom to jerk off.

I watched my favourite video of all as I jerked myself off.

My phone was facing the bed as she rode me, her back arched and my hands on her hips as I helped her bounce in my lap.

As she came, she collapsed against my chest, her ass still bouncing in my lap as she used my cock to get off.

Then she got off of me and wrapped her lips around my cock just as I shouted out her name, my cum filling her mouth once more.

Her eyes were focused on my phone as she swallowed, kissing the tip as she moved her head away.

With grunt of her name, I came, not caring if anyone heard me. Wishing she was here, and not me jerking off on some private plane.

◆

I invited her to our concerts, and she showed up whe she could.

Her backstage, watching me the whole entire time.

Us going back to whatever hotel I am staying at.

Until I was able to convince her to go out on a date with me.

Which brought the paparazzi, which I should have known would happen.

It was all over the internet and even in magazines the next day.

'The Rockstar and The Model. Will it last?' Seemed to be main question, which had me fuming.

"Come on Damian, who cares what they think. Come back to bed or I will have to start with out you." She teased from the bed.

"You wouldn't dare." I put down my phone just as she flung back the blankets, and I could see she had a dildo in her hand.

But not just any dildo, but the one I had made just for her, the exact copy of my cock.

"Go on baby, fuck yourself with it."

My hand wrapped around my cock as I watched her insert it in her pussy, her whining my name.

"That's it baby. Keep it there and turn around, hands and knees. I want to stuff you full." She did exactly what I asked as I stood.

Grabbing the lube from my bag and quickly lathering my cock with it, her spreading her ass as I got closer.

I groaned at the sight as I have already fucked her there today.

I slid into her ass, inch by agonising inch until I bottomed out.

"How do you feel baby?" I asked her as I kissed her between her shoulder blades.

"Full. So full Damian."

"Good." Was all I said before I started to thrust in and out of her ass.

◆

Been four months of us dating and five months of us non-stop fucking.

We were once again in Vegas, and I was driving around with her next to me.

"You wanna get married?" I asked her, knowing she is the one for me.

"What? Right now?" She asked me, turning her body to look at me.

"Yeah, we pick a church and we get married."

"So romantic Damian." She teased. "But of course I will marry you."

We were married 45 minutes later, us driving off to the secluded cabin I rented, but I first had to pull off to the side of this empty, dirt road as I held her back of her head, as my hips thrust up into her mouth as she moaned around my cock.

"My wife is taking my cock so well down her throat. Like she was meant for me." I groaned as she was licking up and down my cock as I fucked her face.

My loud groan was her only warning as I came down her throat, the two of us moaning as she made qucik work to swallow.

I was breathing heavy as I let go of her hair and she sat up.

I smashed my mouth against hers, moaning at the fact that I can taste my cum on her lips.

"I love you my darling wife."

"I love you too, my sweet husband."

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