#i think there's also maybe something there about

[madamechrissy]

I'll look After You

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)

Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.

CW: MDNI- Sweet and emotional story, SO MUCH fluff here, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot, watch Satoru fall in love with reader and his lil girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Explicit smut at the end- warnings- breed kink (it's me???) oral (f receiving) dirty talk, possessive Satoru (When isn't he?) Also some flashbacks to the original bathroom hookup (fingering, dirty talk etc) Sexual tension, 10.6k WC <3

Here is the full oneshot! Comments and reblogs SO appreciated if you enjoy <3

You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.

As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while she’s cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what he’d think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.

Your baby’s father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, you’d have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.

But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, you’re broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her… well was he her dad? You wonder if he’d run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?

It’s odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you can’t be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope you’re enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.

The last man you’d been with.

Yes, it’s been that long, Reign was two months old, so you’re damn near a year, you say it’s because you’re so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.

You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each other’s first names, it’s true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasn’t all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think they’re his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.

You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. You’re sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.

‘Oh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, I’m broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

“It’s… it’s… you!?” You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.

He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember him, like it’s some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasn’t seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, you’re panicking.

“Do you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldn’t transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldn’t find you… and I never saw you… and then- fuck I’m rambling.” He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. “Forgive me, please… what I mean to say is… Hi?”

“Hi…” Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of, but now… he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.

“She’s… is she… there’s no way…”

“She’s yours, I only hooked up with you for the past… year.” You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.

“You did this alone?” He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.

“I had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, it’s not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.” Satoru’s heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?

You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while he’s living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and it’s clear his baby and his baby’s mother are struggling, and he’s here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could he…

“We’re okay, you don’t have to worry. I’d never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.” You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.

He’s felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?

“Can I… please… Can I know her?” He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.

“I would love that.” You can’t stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. “Please, let’s talk out of a produce aisle?” You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.

After paying for your groceries, which you protest to, he’s out by your car now, a little minivan that makes him smile, picturing you as some pretty soccer mom already. You take her out of the car seat then, holding her carefully, smiling up nervously at Satoru. His chest swells at seeing you hold her, some instinct takes over, he instantly knows then.

He needs to take care of you both.

“I thought you’d freak out if you knew, be upset or want nothing to do with…”

“God no, no. I mean I don’t know what to think, but… she’s beautiful. Like her mom.” His words make you flush.

“I’m a wreck, Satoru, look at me.”

“You just need some help, doing it all alone?”

“You don’t have to, okay? I can do it.”

He brushes a tendril back off your temple, sighing as he looks at you, at those dark circles that just make you more beautiful, but show the fragility you’re keeping under wraps as best as you can. “I want to help, this is on me too.”

“It’s not, I was on the pill but… antibiotics.” You grumble, holding the baby to your chest now, she is sucking on her little binkie, bright pink. “It’s all on me, I’d love you to be in her life, but don’t feel obligated to pay for anything.”

“You’re stubborn, will she be too?” He narrows his eyes, and you giggle then, the first time in a long time you’ve heard that sound.

“She’s already stubborn, she gave me a hard time, wouldn’t come out.” She wriggles then, and you step a little closer to Satoru. “Wanna hold her?”

“Can you… tell me how to?” He asks, and you smile at him, for a tall, buff man he’s so sweet and precious, nervous even.

“Yes, hold your arms like this.” He does as you ask, holding his arms out, as you gently place Reign in his arms. “Hold her head just so. There you go, hey Reign, this is your dad.”

“Reign?” He asks, in shock as he looks into her eyes, his eyes, but she has your nose, your hair. His lips. She’s… “Perfect.”

“Isn’t she? Is it okay if I call you her dad?”

“It’s… perfect.” He says again, smiling at you, tears making his snowy lashes spike just so, you feel so complete then somehow. You can’t explain it, seeing this melts you, and Reign is so happy she's cooing, sucking on her binky and staring at him, you watch him melt right with you. “HI there, dumpling.”

“Dumpling? She's got a nickname huh.” He grins so big, nodding.

“I moved out of the city for the past year but I just came back to town. How far are you?”

“Oh like ten minutes. Would you… like to come over tomorrow? I'd say today but my place is a wreck.”

“I'd love to. Can I get her something please?”

“You don't have to… but she can always use binkies she throws these things. Ugh, see?” Reign spits out her binky and Satoru snorts as you catch it. She then touches his cheek, and he chokes up.

“I… oh my god. I love her?” He whispers in wonder, and you exhale, blinking tears that refuse to stop falling. “Is that crazy?”

“No. I loved her when I first saw her too. Fuck I'm a wreck “

“Hey…” He steps closer, handing you her carefully and then placing his big hands on your shoulders. “I am here now for both of you, however you'll let me be. Shh.” He brushes your back, resting his head on yours as you hold her close.

“I never thought I'd see you, tell you. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah me too.”

Of course he is, fuck. He just found out he's a dad, and he's honestly taking it better than anyone could. He brushes your tears away, and your pulse quickens, you clear your throat then. “We don't even know each other, it's insane huh?”

“Absolutely insane. But… I can't wait to spend time with her.” He says softly, you smile up at him, trying not to read so much into it, so happy he wants to be in her life but you have to remember that doesn't mean with you.

“Come over tomorrow I'll cook you lunch? Please don't break your phone again.” He laughs then, nodding as you two exchange numbers.

“Last name is Gojo. I hope one day hers can be?” And yours, he thinks, but he knows it's crazy to say, as he watches you smile so pretty through your tears.

“Maybe we can do that someday. Well, Reign, say bye to dad.” Satoru kisses her little forehead, leaning up then, thinking of kissing you. You both stand there a moment before he opens your door, and you set Reign back in her little pink car seat. You smile up at him again. “I am sorry I'm in pajamas by the way, ugh.”

“They're cute, little snowmen.” You snort, rolling your eyes as you slide in your car, hoping you will see him tomorrow with everything. “See you both soon.”

You drive away, and Satoru calls his driver and assistant then. “Can you order me everything a baby girl needs? And I need it by tomorrow.”

******

There’s a knock on your door, you peek in the mirror one more time, you took a bath last night, your hair is shimmering and clean for once, you have just a little concealer on for those dark circles, a little lip gloss. You’re wearing clothes and not sweats or pajamas, a little top with a cardigan and jeans, nothing fancy but you look human again.

You can’t believe that Satoru will come, until you open that door and see him, standing next to a tired looking dark haired man holding an insane amount of glittery pink bags. Satoru’s grinning at you, wearing Gucci shades and a dress shirt probably worth more than your rent, only one little bag in his hand swinging side to side as he greets you.

“Satoru, you… what is all this?” You ask curiously, and he shrugs a broad shoulder, handing you the little bag.

“All that is for Regin, this is for you though.”

“What!? It’s too many things!”

“Miss, may I?”

You realize he’s just standing there struggling, and come to then. “Oh, yes I’m so sorry! Put them on the table?”

Satoru and Kiyotaka walk in then, you have a little place, it’s about the size of Satoru’s living room altogether, but it’s comfy and clean, lived in and every bit of it has something of you. He sees pictures of you pregnant on your little silver fridge, pictures of Reign all over, along with Christmas cards all placed with magnets. He sees you’ve baked cookies, too, the scent making him starve.

Almost as much as your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, as he stands next to you, gesturing to the bags. “I wanted to get her something, remember?”

“This is a whole store though!” Kiyotaka leaves now, and you’re delving into the bags, gasping as you pull out the softest, fuzziest pink blanket. “Oh my god…”

“I just had them buy everything for a girl? Is pink good?”

You giggle then, smiling as you pull out a pretty pink dress. “She doesn’t know colors yet, Satoru.”

Of course she doesn’t.

Satoru truly doesn’t know shit about kids, he called and told his mom, asking for advice, and almost gave her a heart attack he thinks. “Of course not, I… where is she? Is she napping?”

“She is, but don’t worry she usually wakes up soon. Oh these are so cute, how expensive are these!? She’s gonna wear them for like a week!” You ask then, pulling out a little baby pair of fancy shoes, then two more. “She can’t even walk yet… ah, but these are so cute though.” You’re clearly conflicted, he chuckles a bit, then you stand up. “Oh my god, I’m a shitty host!”

“You’re cute.” His words, all husky with that deep voice of his, make you flush now, making you even cuter to him. “You look pretty today.”

“Oh thank you, I didn’t want you to think I’m constantly a monster.” He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You’re cute either way. This was you pregnant?” He asks, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“Yes, I was a whale, oh god.” He touches the photo then, a longing surging through him, he missed this, he missed you like this. He feels an ache washing through him, looking at your glowing face and round tummy.

“No, you were beautiful.” Your breath catches, eyes shooting to his as he looks at you now, feeling something pulling you towards him, it’s like he takes the air out of your lungs just standing here.

“You’re very sweet, Satoru… thank you.” You manage to breathe out the words, when he looks down at your body now, heating it up with his gaze.

“Did you like being pregnant?”

The words throw images in your mind, of him over you, putting more babies in you, fucking insane ones that you shove down quickly. He was clearly caring, and wanting to be involved, you needed to keep your thoughts to that and only that, despite the way your stomach is fluttering at his proximity.

“I did love being pregnant, feeling her move and kick, singing to my tummy and feeling her calm down. But towards the end it was really rough, because she decided she wasn’t coming out.” You say with a little laugh, Satoru can see in how you speak how much you adore her. “Would you like to see more pictures later?”

“I’d love to. You didn’t open what I got you.”

“You shouldn’t get me anything. Oh, do you want some cookies?”

“Yes please.” He starts munching down on them, moaning. “You baked these?”

“I bake when I’m nervous? It gets insane how much I bake.” He smiles then, you’re tucking your shimmering hair behind your ear, grabbing him a glass of milk before you go grab the little bag.

“Open it, now.” He sips his milk as you sit on the barstool by the counter, fingers gently pulling apart tissue paper, until you open a little box and see a gift card.

“To a spa!? I haven’t ever been to a spa? What I can’t!”

“You will. When you’re comfortable I could watch her, so you could get some time to yourself.” You sniffle then, the kindness of him after all the overwhelming months you’ve had is too much, you shake your head.

“I can’t, it’s all too much, you shouldn’t feel like you have to do this!” He walks to you then, brushing a tear from your cheek, exhaling as he leans down so close.

“Sweetheart, I’m fucking rich, okay?”

“I assumed… wealthy with your clothes…”

“No, filthy fucking rich. Let me spend it on my baby and get her mom just a little thing please? How can you take care of her without any care for you?”

“I just do it, Satoru. I just do it.” He brushes more of your tears now, his lips far too close, you still don’t know him truly but the gesture is melting every defense you may have had up.

“Just go relax one day, not now, when you’re more comfortable.” Reign starts crying then, making Satoru back off just as you’d leaned your chin up, and you two had been so close. You back away too, nervously standing.

“I’ll go get her for you.” You say with a big smile, eyes still watery, and then you bring her out, Satoru’s heart swells even more than it did seeing you, he eagerly picks her up this time, versus being so nervous as before. “Dad spoiled you already.”

“Not even close to spoiled yet.” He murmurs, snuggling her to him.

“Have a seat, please.” He sits on the couch with her, you take one of the many little blankets, gently laying it over her and then sitting on the couch with him, as he stares at her in wonder.

“She barely cries?”

“That’s around you, it seems. She likes you already.” Your words fill him with far too much happiness, a happiness he’s never known, but also such a longing.

“I wish I could have been there.” He whispers, brokenly, the handsome white haired man holding your little girl, and suddenly you can picture it, maybe his big bright smile during what was a difficult labor.

“You’re here now.” You assure him, a hand gentle on his shoulder, the caress delicate before you think better of it, pulling your hand back. “I thought about you a lot, I mean… I tried to find you.”

“I wish you had.”

“Really?” He nods then, emotional. “Satoru Gojo, you surprised me, I thought for sure you’d turn and run.”

“Nah, why? Look at her.” She’s blinking her long lashes, grinning at him then. “So what do I like… do with her? Besides holding her?”

You laugh softly then, it’s so easy to have him around, it feels so natural that it’s weird. “Well you can feed her a bottle I pumped, but I breast feed mostly.”

He gulps now, looking at your top, where your nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. “Oh?”

“Yeah, depending on her mood, sometimes she is vicious. I’ll show you.” You gently take your top up, feeling his gaze when you pull off your nursing bra.

“That thing is easy access.” He murmurs, you giggle a bit, nervous for him to see you when you let it drop, revealing one of your pretty breasts to him, leaving him dazed before he snaps out of it, handing you Reign.

It’s very intimate, sitting with him while you feed her, she’s sucking hard, so hard you wince then, her little long nails digging into your breast as Satoru smirks. “You’re gonna laugh at this pain?”

“She’s just like her dad, look at her go. A pro.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as Reign aggressively punches your breasts for more milk.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t think you did that.” You murmur thoughtfully, pushing back flashes of the night while she suckles.

“That’s a tragedy.” You look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, while you feed his daughter, his daughter, it’s still not comprehending, it’s still taking him a lot to conceive it’s real. “Look at her face, oh my god!”

Your heart warms as he leans over, and Reign has stopped drinking, a goofy smile on her face. “She’s milk drunk.”

“What now? She looks high as fuck.” You hold in your laughter so you don’t wake her now, her eyes are shut and she’s still sucking on nothing.

“She does look stoned, it always cracks me up. Do you wanna put her to bed? I’ll show you where she sleeps.”

He nods and takes her again, watching your nipple with just a droplet of milk on it, he swipes it away before he can think better, making you shoot your eyes to him, lips parted. You hastily put the bra back up as a blush pinkens Satoru’s cheeks, slipping down your top, his touch on your sensitive nipples almost ended you just now. The desire for him in every way is almost insane.

You show him to the only room in your little place, it’s got a crib and a bassinet, and a tiny little bed that he assumes you must sleep in. You start wrapping her up in the new pink blanket then, swaddling her so tight, he watches in wonder at it, as you bundle her up.

“She’ll like a little burrito.” You snort in laughter, trying to keep quiet and covering your mouth then, looking up at Satoru in amusement.

“She kind of is? Babies like to be swaddled, they feel comfy.”

“You know so much… Have you had any experience before?” You both watch as she settles now.

“No, I learned all this from lots of books and bugging the shit out of my mother. Though she even thought I was crazy to have her. But something…” You trail off then, shaking your head. “Sorry.”

“No, please go on. Something?”

“Something told me I was meant to have her, it sounds crazy. But… I knew I could do it, even if it’s a lot.”

Satoru’s hand comes to rest on the small of your back, as you turn your head to look back up at him, seeing the emotions written all over his perfect face. “You’re doing great.”

You break down then at that, sobbing against his chest as he holds you, soothing rubs on your back. “I needed that, shit I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You stay like that for a moment, letting him hold you against his chest, your face buried against his shirt, tears spilling freely while you take several breaths. “You’re a great mom, I can already see.”

“Shit…” You pull yourself together, taking several breaths and leaning back then, Satoru’s cupping your face and it takes everything not to kiss him, this man who you still barely know. “I really appreciate that. It’s been hard so far, but I love her so much, it's impossible how deeply.”

“I can feel it already. You, missy, need that break.”

“I couldn’t…”

“I want to be involved, I want to care for her, and that means her mom too. Yeah?” You shake your head, earning his little glare. “Stubborn little brat.”

“Excuse me!?” You glare right back, and he grins.

“You are one!”

“Me a brat?” Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms.

“Mmhmm.” Satoru tilts your chin up, your head falls back then, and he imagines entwining his fingers in it, imagining kissing you just like that night. He leans even closer and you pull back, clearing your throat.

“We should step out so we don’t wake her.” You murmur, when you’re back in the living room you’re carefully folding all the clothes he’s bought. “Oh, I promised lunch! You up for stir fry?”

“I’m up for anything you wanna make, after eating those cookies.” You set to work, and soon the two of you are eating lunch together, Satoru moans as he devours the food. “My god you’re a good cook.”

“Thank you, I love to cook.” You nibble on your rice thoughtfully. “Ugh, I’m gonna hate leaving her to work.”

Satoru scowls now. “Huh?”

“Maternity leave is over in two weeks. I’m just going to work part time though, so I’ll still see her plenty. Maybe I’ll bring her to work?”

“Where do you work?”

“A library, I’m very exciting.” Satoru grins now.

“You look like a little librarian.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Goodie goodie, despite the bathroom…” You both quiet then, as his mind whirls, and yours spins, remembering.

“S-Satoru!” You’d cried out as his fingers had pumped in and out of your tight little entrance, soaking his fingers as he kissed down your neck, you watched your reflection in the mirror as he pressed you against the sink, free hand gripping you right under your chin.

“Fuck, look at you? So sexy…” He murmurs, the club's music pounding like your heart in your chest. He has a big hand muffling your cries as you soak his hands, dripping all over him. “Hear her?”

His murmur against your ear makes you tremble, shivers sending down your spine as he builds that pressure inside you. You nod, drooling against his palm, when he is hitting that spot that has your eyes rolling back, pressing on it over and over with his long, thick fingers. You’re screaming into his hand, ass arching against him.

“That’s it, pretty, cum f’me huh?”

You both get quiet then, you see it clear as day, your face in that mirror as he’d filled you, and he remembers sucking your juices off his fingers, god it’s been almost a year and he can’t get your taste off his mind. He’d been with a few women here and there since he didn’t think he’d see you again, but they were nothing like it, nothing like you.

How your body responded, every little muffled cry, he remembers dying to get you fully naked, planning it all out when he would call you. He wanted you to not even leave his bed, he’d fully taste you, make you cum with his mouth. He’d get to look into your eyes as he filled you so good, have your legs up over his shoulders while he pumped inside.

It’s like electricity in your quiet little home, the two of you sitting in a daze, your breath comes quicker when he leans across the table, brushing your cheek with his fingers, feeling the heat on them. “Warm?” He teases.

“Um, a little.” You stand then, taking his plate and smiling, acting as normal as you can. “All done?”

“Yeah, thank you.” He watches you wash them then, he can’t even fathom not having a dishwasher, but you’re there with your pretty hands and that sponge. He doesn’t want you to work, he doesn’t want you even doing this, you should just enjoy the baby.

But with how stubborn you are, how independent? He doesn’t know if you’ll even take his offer when he makes it.

“How about you come to my place with the little Dumpling this weekend? Maybe… stay a night? I’ll have her something set up.”

“Stay the night?” You nearly break the dish you’re drying, Satoru catches it, suddenly next to you. “Who are you, Edward Cullen?”

“Pshh, I look like a glittery fucking vampire?”

“A bit.” You’re both laughing softly then, he dries the plates and you show him where to put them up. “It’s nice having a giant around.”

“Almost whacked my head on your ceiling fans.”

“The hardships of being stupidly tall, hmm?”

“Hmm.” He leans against the counter now, snowy lashes lowering as he studies you intently, those eyes that just do something to you, even after this long. It feels like you’ve known him, when one of his hands delicately brushes down your shoulder, feeling the soft knit of your cardigan. “You dress like a little librarian.”

“Do I now? Not that night.”

His nostrils flare just a bit. “Not that night.”

Satoru had you lifted on that sink, sinking inside you for the first time, damn near whimpering in your ear as he kissed on your breasts, trying to yank them out as much as he could but failing. “Slutty little dress.”

“S-slutty? You’re… slutty!” You’re clinging to him as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, your cunt is drooling down his veiny length as he fucks into you, your thighs pressing against his narrow hips.

“Both are, listen to her… ha…” He’s got one hand cupping your face, looking at you before he slams his lips down, tongues dancing while his cock keeps thrusting, tip dragging your spot, as you fall apart in the bathroom, a tangle of limbs intermingling with muffled cries. “F-fuck…”

“That dress still does things to my mind.” He admits, and you wonder then, how’d you both get so close? How were you nearly flush against him?

“Does it now?” Your attempt at a tease meets with a broken voice, and you clear your throat, looking down shyly. “I don’t think my ass would fit in it now, your baby girl gave me some hips.”

“I bet they’re sexy.”

“She gave me stretch marks too.”

“Sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shake your head then, brushing a hand up his chest, wondering just what his body looks like. He's clearly built, you can tell he's muscular, but you have to wonder just how he looks. “You… don’t date anyone?”

“Nah. I mean I have had some dates this year, but nothing serious.” He couldn’t say it’s because of you, because he compares women to this random girl he felt such a pull to, and now it’s a million times worse. Even picturing cute little stretch marks from having his baby makes Satoru feral, it takes a lot not to show you, to act cool and calm with a little smirk.

“I haven’t at all. I mean… I’m so busy with Reign, and the pregnancy.”

“Been a while then?” His words are full of suggestion, his hand now brushes the air across your waist, hovering, like he wants to pull you in, and you’d let him, when Reign starts crying. You both step apart, his hands in his pockets, yours nervously fidgeting with your sweater.

“I’ll go get her.” You come back with her now, and Satoru lights up at seeing her in your arms, bending down to kiss her downy soft hair, sighing.

“Why does she smell so good?”

“Baby smell. I know, it’s addictive.” You inhale her scent, smiling as you are once again a centimeter from Satoru’s lips, your gaze goes to them, glossy and plump.

“Will you come this weekend?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there Satoru.”

“I am going to learn things, I promise.”

“Satoru, just take it one day at a time. You’re doing great.” He nods then, gulping down his every emotion as he leaves you two, and it feels so awful and wrong to leave you both, every force in the world pulling him back.

“How’d it go, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, as he’s driving him back home.

“Amazing. They're so beautiful.”

“They?”

“I mean…” You both are. “Kiyotaka, do you know shit about babies?” The man smiles tiredly then, shaking his head.

“No, Mr. Gojo, but I see you’re so… happy?”

Satoru has a silly grin then. “I am, I want to set something up for them, think you can order more baby things? For my place?”

“Certainly, Sir.” He smiles as he watches Satoru in the rearview mirror, he never would have pictured something like this, but it’s clear Satoru is beaming.

*****

“Come in, come in!” You pause in awe as you carry Reign inside Satoru’s insanely beautiful home. It's probably ten of your place if not more, sleek and elegant, everything brand new and sparkling clean. He’s instantly taking Reign, who is babbling at him as he cradles her, melting you completely before you even take a step.

“Your place is beautiful.” You murmur, he smiles at you then, taking your diaper bag off your arm and leading you inside.

“Thank you for coming, I missed her already!? Yes I did, dumpling!” He plants kisses all over her face now, Satoru Gojo holding your baby just did things to your heart, rewired your brain, seeing them both light up.

“She missed you too.” You murmur softly, Satoru looks at you then, white teeth glinting under the soft lights, taking in your pretty dress.

“Mama looks pretty.” He whispers, loud on purpose clearly, you’re a blushing mess, when Satoru’s blue eyes sweep over you.

“You’re too much.” You say, but you’re lowkey falling bad, you’d talked with him so much these past few days, as he asked endless questions, but also as you two got to know each other. You’d fallen asleep on the phone last night, Satoru had listened to your light little snore, smiling and falling asleep with you.

It seems too easy, which terrifies you, but so far it’s been Satoru being excited to be a dad, so you keep trying to remind yourself that is what this was, but it’s hard when he looks at you that way. “Too much? You haven’t seen shit. Come on.”

“Oh god.” You follow him now, as he leads you through a wide open hall, winking at you.

“Ya ready?”

“I think so?” He opens the door and it takes your breath for a moment, it’s a fully done nursery with everything a baby could need and more. There’s a pretty crib, a bassinet, a rocking chair even, it’s painted a baby pink with little teddy bears lining the ceiling. 

“I know, I went overboard, I don’t know how to not go overboard when I do things? And I want the best for her? I know you probably won’t be-”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

You smile then, placing a hand over his where it rests on Reign’s lap. “It’s beautiful, it’s so beautiful.”

He exhales in relief then. “Yeah!?”

You’re giggling now. “Yeah.”

“Mommy likes it, yes!” His enthusiasm is infectious, it’s the first time you think you’ve truly been light hearted in so long, as he places her gently in the crib. “I had my mom go crazy and paid for it to get set up, really I did nothing but pay out.”

“It’s the most thoughtful thing in the world.” You hug him then on impulse, before pulling back shyly, your eyes meet each other, his hands on your waist. “But how will she go back to my shitty place? I hope she doesn’t get bougie.”

“I want her bougie.” You laugh again softly, she’s playing with the little ovehanging baby mobile, she’s enamored by the hanging stars. You watch him lean over the crib then. “She’s a princess, you know.”

You can’t take it then, you have to step out, shaking now, struggling to catch your breath, when Satoru steps out with you, looking at you with concern. Your feelings of him are utterly overwhelming, the beauty of Satoru fawning over his little girl puts these thoughts in your mind, of being a real family. As someone who didn’t have a father, and didn’t think Reign would, the hope filling you is so much.

“I got too excited.” He nervously admits, leaning against the wall next to you and rubbing the back of his neck. “I want her to have everything, if my mom didn’t talk me out of it she’d already have a pony.” You snort then, even through your tears. “There, a little laugh.”

“It’s not you, this is amazing, it’s just… I planned my life, I planned it all out with her, alone. And now… we won’t be? I don’t know how to process it, how to really believe it. But I’m so happy she’ll have it.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you against him into a big hug, arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you against his chest. “I didn’t think I’d have this, a baby girl? I know what you mean, it’s not what I pictured.”

“Exactly. And… maybe I enjoy this too much.” You look up at him now, his lips quirked up at the side.

“Me too much?” He raises a brow.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.” Satoru leans down close, when the doorbell rings, he exhales then, laughing softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “So I may have invited my mom. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You are trying to calm your nerves when you meet her, long silky white hair and bright blue eyes. It's clear those genetics are strong, she surprises you by wrapping you in a hug.

“Where’s this grandbaby of mine?”

Soon she’s melting over Reign like the two of you have been, and Satoru’s made you both hot cocoa, family isn’t something you’ve really had, and to feel this comfortable and good? It’s almost like some dream, as you all are so cozy inside, and Reign is just getting fawned over, giving you a little bit of a reprieve until she’s hungry.

“I have a bottle, do you wanna feed her, Satoru?”

“I can do that?” You smile at him, nodding, and soon he’s got a bottle in her mouth, you position his arm just so as his mom watches you both with a knowing smile on her face.

“You know, I could always babysit sometime. For you two… to go out.” You both blush now, looking up at her.

“Go out?” You almost squeak the words out, sipping your cocoa now that it's gone just a little cold, enamored with watching Satoru.

“Yes, go out. Parents need time away.”

“We’re not… um…”

“I’d take you out.” Satoru says softly, and you feel those butterflies in your tummy going wild.

“Yeah?” You manage to ask, failing at being subtle.

“Yeah.” He smirks a bit, then Reign coughs. “What’s wrong!?”

“She needs to burp, calm down.” You lift her against your chest, patting her back now. “This is what you’ll do, it’s just some air in her tummy.”

“Oh thank god.”

“You three are precious.” His mom checks her phone then. “I have a meeting, but I hope to see much more of you both.”

“Me too Mrs. Gojo!” She smiles, planting a kiss on Reign’s head then yours before she leaves. “She’s amazing!?”

“I know, right? She was dying to meet her.” His hand rubs Reign’s little back, so big it’s as long as her almost, his other arm resting over the couch, brushing against you when he leans closer. “Thank you for having her.”

“Oh, Satoru… I just wish…”

“Yeah, me too.” He inhales and exhales, his eyes swimming with emotions. “I wish badly. I hate that I missed her coming into the world.”

“I’m so sorry… but I swear, she’ll not remember that, she won’t remember it at all.”

“But you remember.”

“Satoru, it's not your fault, don’t dare blame yourself.” He sighs now, his hand dropping off Reign to rest on your thigh over the thin black tights you wore.

“I don’t want you working yet. Will you let me help?”

“Satoru…” You shake your head. “You are not going to pay my bills.”

“Then stay with me? Stay the year with your baby… with our baby, please. She should have her mom home.”

“It’s too much of an offer, I can’t just live here! We aren’t even…”

“If you hate it I’ll get you your own place. I promise. Just let me take care of you… of both of you?” You stand, turning away, Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your arms as he leans close. “Please think about it.”

“I’m not a charity case, Satoru. I’m okay where I am.”

“I know that, okay? But I missed all of the pregnancy, I didn’t get to help with any medical bills, anything. Please just…” He turns your chin to face him, his glossy lips ever tempting as they hover just above yours. “Please think about it.”

“It’s overwhelming, okay?” He nods then, you lean back just so, feeling his lithe body against your back, leaning back just so.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“Satoru…” He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to.” For you and Reign, but Satoru can tell your pride is getting in the way, and he can tell you’re conflicted. “Give it time, no rush, yeah?”

*****

After a few weeks of constantly being at Satoru’s house, you damn near almost live there. You come over at about the same time Satoru’s off work, and he learns more and more about Reign every single day. He’s learned how to change diapers, how to feed her, and learns what certain cries mean. Reign rolls over for the first time on her mat and you’ve never seen anyone more excited than Satoru.

He takes selfies with her and they are Insta famous, he has Reign’s name painted on the nursery door, though she tends to still sleep in the room you stay in, with her little bassinet. Satoru’s had you in the guest room, but what you don’t know is at night he checks on you both, he kisses Reign’s forehead and tucks you in, he watches how cute the both of you are.

He watches you with Reign, ever attentive, and it’s about the time you’d have to go back to work, he can feel how devastated you are thinking of it, when you all are quietly sitting in the living room, having nibbled on takeout as Reign sleeps. You take a breath then, looking at the man you’re falling deeper for every day, every moment you spend with him.

“Satoru…”

“Yeah, sweets?” His little nickname always does something to you.

“I would love to stay with you, to stay home with her for a few more months, if you’re sure it’s still okay?”

Satoru jumps up then, picking you up and spinning you, you’re laughing breathlessly as he eases you down, and you’re flush against his body. Despite the endless times you’ve ached to kiss him, to do so much more, you both have been a little apprehensive, you both don’t know what’s okay, what’s not. You both feel far, far too much and are afraid of it.

“You’ll stay!?”

“I’ll stay. But I’ll cook, and help pick up, and-”

“Shh. Just stay.” He’s cupping your face, he’s so close you can almost taste his sweet breath, your lashes lowering over your eyes now. “I want you with her, let me do that for you? And… I want you here. All the time I… miss you when you’re not.”

“Are you giving me puppy dog eyes!?” You demand with a grin, and he pouts his lips.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“It’s working.” You don’t stop yourself, not this once, when you lean up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, and when you do, the eclectic shocks shoot from his lips, it’s just like that night a year ago, but more intense. You pull back nervously, looking away. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No.” Is all he says, pulling you back, bending low and taking over your lips, he moves them gently over yours, big hands taking over your waist and dragging you closer, mouth opening, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. Your mouth opens in a gasp, and then his tongue delves inside it. “Don’t apologize for kissing me.”

“Satoru…” He’s exhaling against your lips, kissing you again, soon your back is on the couch, and he’s moving over you, his hand trailing your waist, up to your breasts, your hands clinging to his shirt, gripping the smooth fabric as you fall apart from his kisses. They’re sweet, intense kisses, slow like he wants to savor every moment with you, growing more and more insistent.

He pulls up, just looking at you now, your thighs are around his hips, you feel that ache between them, not just physically either, you crave more and more of him, and you have been since you saw him again. You both just look at each other, speaking without words as he slips up your top, and you yank it nervously, earning his frown, stopping your hand.

“Not ready yet?” He asks, you shake your head.

“You won’t… I’m not… I don’t like my tummy anymore.” You admit softly, tears threatening to spill, Satoru lifts your shirt then, leaning down and running his thumb across the little stretch marks Reign left.

“Well, baby girl… I love your tummy. Should I show you?” You shake your head, breaths coming quicker and quicker now. “You had my baby, you carried her for me, and she left you more beautiful than before.”

“Oh, Satoru…” He kisses your tummy then, and desire shoots straight through you, your hands finally entwining in that silky hair you’ve craved to feel for so long, he’s looking at you under lidded eyes, pressing kisses lower.

“You’re beautiful everywhere. I bet it was sexy pregnant.”

You giggle just a bit, making Satoru smile against your skin, fingers tugging down your pants then, earning a little cry that makes his cock so hard it hurts. He’s been dying to taste you on his tongue, to feel you around his fingers, watch that pretty face in pleasure again, but he’s tried to take his time, tried to focus on Reign, but the thing is, he loves both of you.

He’s in love with you.

The way you move, the way you smile, the way you are with his baby? How your eyes brighten when Reign did something new, how you blushed when he gave you a compliment. But also, how your hips are shifting now, how your eyes are getting lidded, dilated with desire, and how the little silver lines run across where his baby was inside you.

“Satoru… that feels too good I… mmm!” You cry out quietly when his fingers find your slick heat, finding you drenched already.

“You this easy for me?” He asks, you want to retort, something witty, but you can’t, you just gasp out in pleasure when he’s got your pants off, and he’s parting your thighs, long fingers pressing in the plush of your skin as he stares at your pussy. “Fuck you’re pretty.��

You’re trembling as you’re fully bare in front of him, his breath on your clit alone makes you jerk, he places a teasing flick of his tongue right on your clit, you cover your mouth to hide the pathetic moan. He flicks his tongue again, thumps slipping the plump lips of your sex apart, watching the wetness pool out of your little hole, he catches it with his tongue, groaning as he tastes you.

Your hands clutch his hair so hard you’re tugging at his head, eyes rolling back in your skull, biting your lip hard not to make too much noise. He looks up at you, slinking his tongue all the way up your dripping pussy now, from your hole to your clit, groaning as you drip all over his mouth, his face.

“It tastes as good as I remember.” He whispers, enjoying that ruby red blush on your cheeks. “You’re so cute like this, sensitive?”

“You’re torturing me.” He chuckles, the hot air making you whimper, a sound that shoots desire through him. “Please…”

“Please what, pretty?” He casually licks you once more, leisurely as if he has all the time in the world, tilting his head just so to flick the underside of it, watching the tiny little clit twitch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Make me cum, please.” He moans then, devouring your pussy, his movements less teasing and precise and sloppy, now, lapping up all the juices that pour as you cry out in pleasure, hips bucking up for more, then you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you now, pressing in deep, finding that spongy spot that makes you shiver.

“There you go, you’re clenching me s’good. Can’t wait to feel you around me.” He murmurs, curling his fingers just so,  your legs are shaking so hard, you’re falling off that edge, chest rising and falling with your breaths.

“M-gonna… Toru…” Satoru moans now, the sound vibrating against your heat, he looks at you then, eyes dilated and dark, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick, shimmering.

“Cum for me, baby.” At that he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, humming and making you shatter under him.

You come so hard you see stars bursting, eyes rolled back, your mouth in the most slutty O as you gasp out, you’re arching off the couch, his name a quiet little broken scream in the quiet room. You feel his smug grin against your sensitive bud, as he nips at it then with his teeth, making you jerk and whimper, leaning back to study your clenching little hole.

“There you go, so good for me, hmm?” He coles those words, slipping up you now, sliding his finger up and down your drippy slit, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off him.

“Need you. All of you.” You murmur then, he pauses his kisses, looking down at you, and emotions surge and mix with the pleasure, the insane need for him to fill you, over and over again.

“If we do, I want more than just… co parenting. I want more than just sex. I want…” Satoru gulps then, cupping your face carefully, your hand comes to grip his wrist, thumb brushing over his strong, fluttering pulse.

“I want more too.” You admit, swallowing nervously, as one of your hands rests on his chest.

“I want you to be my girl.” You’re crying then, nodding eagerly at his sweet and pure words, when he’s kissing you again, salty tears mixing with your taste. “Will you be? My girl?”

“I would love to be yours.” He moans again, standing then, helping you up, your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you, your lips don’t separate when he backs into his bedroom.

“Want you in my bed, every night.” He whispers, easing you onto the floor to stand, slipping your top off and revealing your breasts which sway just a bit, you eagerly unbutton his shirt, showing every inch of his chiseled, perfect frame. You gasp when you finally see him, fingertips trailing across sculpted muscles.

“You’re perfect, Satoru.” You whisper in wonder, and he cups your face again, kissing you deeply, a kiss so beautiful it ruins you forever, Satoru has ruined you forever, you know now what you knew that night deep down. “It’s only you.”

“It’s only you. You’re perfect.” You gasp as he picks you up again, laying you on the bed, you’re eagerly tugging on his pants, gasping when you see his huge, veiny length, something you’d had inside of you bud hadn’t even seen. You stroke him, earning his soft whine, he pins your wrist above your head.

“Lemme touch him, please?” You beg, earning both your hands pinned, as you laugh breathlessly.

“No way, I’m not busting quick, I’ve waited too long for this.” You giggle, earning his pretty glare. “I’m not.”

“You didn’t bust quick that night?”

“Yeah, I did.” You shake your head at him, gasping when he’s pressing against your entrance, he tenses, muscles flexing, when suddenly you both hear it, Reign on the baby monitor. “Shit.”

“Shit…” You both stay completely silent. “Maybe she’ll stop?”

“I sure hope so. Need to get you pregnant again.”

You blink in shock now, as Reign quiets. “Huh!?”

Satoru grins, a devious fucking grin, as he presses your legs apart, one over his shoulder, sinking in as you bite your lip, so filled by him, trembling beneath him as you roll your hips. “I need to see you pregnant, gonna be so fucking sexy.”

“You’re insane, Satoru Gojo.” You gasp when he shoves his length fully inside you, bottoming out and you’re so full you can’t breathe, clinging to his bare shoulders desperately as he moans, feeling your walls flutter.

“You didn’t know that yet? I’ll have to show you, sweetheart.” He’s fucking you then so good, thrusting in and out of your slick cunt, which is drooling all the way down his veiny length. He’s smirking as he rolls his hips just so, watching you start to come apart. “You love it, huh? Cock filling you so deep?”

“Please…” His leaking tip kisses your cervix, you shudder under him, cumming so hard you can’t tether yourself anymore, and he revels in it, in your pretty face all scrunched up, all reddened as you cry out.

“That’s it, can’t help yourself? Want me to fucking fill you?”

“Please…”

“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” The words short circuit what’s left of your brain, as Satoru leans back on his knees, hands slipping up your body, gripping your breasts, which have little droplets of milk. You whimper, trying to cover them. “Ah-ah.”

He leans forward, sucking them then, you’re so sensitive you scream, thanking everything Satoru has a huge home and that the baby couldn’t hear anything, because the sounds he writhes out of you are filthy. He leans up, licking the little droplets off and grinning again, possessively gripping your throat, hovering over you as his cock slides in again.

“God, even that’s sweet. All of you. Sweet and slutty.” He huffs, you’re kissing him desperately, nails pressing against his scalp as they grip his hair. “My girl, you’re all mine now, hmm?”

“Wanna be… y-your girl.” You whisper, ending him as your cunt gushes down on him, as he feels the tight muscles grip him like a vise, he eases back, shoving your legs up then in a mating press, every instinct making him crave to make you his again. Cum in you, fill you, make you pregnant. “Toru… I haven’t… not a lot of… exper-ah!”

“That’s alright baby, I’ll fuck you so good, all you gotta do is take it, yeah? Look so fucking pretty f’me.” The sweet, emotional and cute Satoru is now feral, psychotic and possessive, his eyes so blue they hurt to look at, but you’re nodding eagerly. You’ve never been fucked like this, not even close, but he assures you, over and over that you can take him. “That’s right, gonna take all of me.”

Your thighs are smushed against your breasts as Satoru fucks you harder, perfect strokes that hit every spot, spots you can’t even figure out, the ridge of his cock hitting again and again until you’re close, already having cum twice. You’re sobbing under him as he leans his weight on your thighs, folding you in half and going deeper, deeper, bottoming out.

His balls slap heavy on your ass, so full and ready to pump his load in your eager hole, you’re a mess, tears on your cheeks, mumbling incoherently, pussy drooling and loosening more and more. You take him, all of him greedily then, as he slows just a bit, leaning up to press your thighs even higher, watching his cock disappear as your cunt sucks him in.

“Oh look, she’s taking me s’good, she wants it huh? You want it, greedy, slutty pussy.” He’s talking to your pussy, but you also can’t care, not when you’re so close, incoherently whining. “Can’t talk, sweetheart?”

“Gonna… cum… again… Satoru!” He moans as you speak his name, using a forearm to press your legs up, angling his cock just so, shoving deep as he presses a thumb to your clit, ending you utterly.

“There you go, cum on lemme fuckin feel her milk me.” He huffs, husky voice hoarse as your orgasm washes over you, full body, you’re shaking and sobbing as your arousal pours down him, making him tense, gasping. “Oh fuck…”

“Cum in me. Cum in me, please.” You beg weakly, and Satoru does then, full mating press, pumping all his cum so deep, filling you to the brim as he leans down, whimpering with you, tongues sloppy as you kiss.

“Feel s’perfect… gonna make you a mommy again, yeah?” You nod weakly, cunt throbbing as he pumps more and more, nails pressing into his back as you both ride your orgasms out, until you’re sensitive messes. “F-fucking… b-baby…”

“Satoru, g-god…” He is exhaling, easing your sore thighs down then, pulling out and watching the mess that pours from your pussy, a mix of his cum and yours, he grins at it.

“You’re so messy, hmm?” He shoves two fingers in your cunt, pushing his cum back in as you scream out. “Aww, you can’t take it baby?”

“Too much, ngh!” Satoru slips his fingers out, sucking on them and moaning, before repeating it, shoving them in your mouth, you moan as you suck them greedily, both kissing again, a tangled mess of limbs.

“Taste us together, god.”

“So yummy.” He kisses you again, again, again, as you struggle to come back down, heart still racing. “My god…”

“Yeah, holy fuck.”

“You’re like… you have a breed kink like bad.” He snorts then, kissing up the side of your neck.

“Could it have to do with the fact that my girl is gorgeous with my baby? And I’d love to really see her pregnant?”

“I want you there too. I do, even if this is insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, first we have a baby, then we move in together? What next, a first date?”

“You know… yes. Mom offered?”

You giggle at him. “So is this you asking me on a date!?”

“Mmhmm, with my cum pouring out. Wasting it, tsk tsk.” He starts kissing down your body again, when Reign cries, this time loudly. “Ugh.”

“Ugh.” You agree, brushing back his hair when he kisses your tummy. “You make me feel beautiful, Satoru.”

“You are.” He says simply, kissing you deeply, helping you up. “Most beautiful girls there are.”

“I…” You almost say it, but you’re still so afraid, those words on the tip of your tongue. Satoru smiles as if he knows.

“Go check on her.”

“Yeah.” You are soon all dressed, and Reign is no longer crying once she gets swaddled, her binky in her mouth. Satoru comes behind you, arms wrapping you tightly and pulling you against him.

“So, that date?”

“Mmm, got plans already?” You look back at him, as he holds you so sweetly in the quiet room.

“Yeah, the spa you never went to, brat.”

“Oh! Yes, let’s.”

*****

Satoru Gojo and you have had a baby, then moved in, and then you had your first date, which was both of you getting pampered, you were giggling when Satoru kept eating the cucumbers meant for his eyes, when he moved the masseuse because he got jealous of him. “My girl, I’ll rub your back.”

“So jealous.” You tease, but you then sigh in pleasure as his big hands rub your body just so.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t ever wanna lose my girls.” You pause then, leaning up, breasts revealed as you’re just wearing a little towel. But Satoru’s eyes are serious, when he gently rubs his hands down to the back of your hips.

“You’re not losing us.” He’s kissing you, leaning over you in the spa, when he whispers in your ear.

“Let’s go.”

In the backseat of Satoru’s driver’s car, headed back home, you and Satoru devour each other, his hands on your rib cage, his lips on your nipples. Your head falling back, arching up for more, never, ever able to get enough. He’s filling you again, and you’re soaking him again, he’s fucking up into you one moment, one moment you’re controlling it.

A push and pull, a back and forth, endless kisses, until he’s filled you up again, whispering the lewdest things, picturing you as his wife, picturing you pregnant again, but the words are coming out as muffled, dirty words that don’t match. And you feel the same, you think the same, but you’re too fucked out to speak, too lost in everything that is Satoru Gojo.

That night, Reign is up and down, and you’ve just given her a bath, singing to her and cradling her. Satoru watches you, emotions catching in his throat, as a sliver of moonlight darts through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two girls he adores. Reign is being fussy, huffing, but then she hears you sing, and she’s calming, drifting off just so.

You catch him watching you, smiling at him, laying her back down gently. Satoru leans over, brushing a thumb across her cheek, as she sleeps so peacefully. “I love you, dumpling.” He murmurs to her, your heart aches at his words, as you repeat them softly to her, and Satoru wraps an arm around you.

“I love both of you.” You look at him then, so nervous, but he exhales, kissing you softly, feeling tears fall from his eyes, pulling back to see you’re trembling. “I know it’s a lot, but you have to know that I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts.”

“I love both of you.” Your heart hammers in your chest, as a hand slips up your back, and he leans down, blue eyes swirling with tears. “I’ll take care of you both, always. I… I’m complete now, with you both. I can’t ever lose you.”

“Satoru, never. I never want to be without you again.” Your hushed whispers are followed by sweet kisses, until you both close the door quietly, and Satoru has you picked up in his arms, effortless as you hold onto him, resting your foreheads against each other. “I’m home, here.”

“You are home, here. Want you to have my last name, both of you. Please.” You nod, sniffling as he carries you, kissing you desperately, pressing you against the door of his room once you’re back inside. “Need you to have my last fuckin’ name.”

“We will, Satoru. We’ll all be Gojos, hmm?” He grins so big then, easing you down and turning you, vivid memories of that night filling your mind, overwhelming your senses. Your head falls back as he kisses down your neck, slipping your shorts to the side to find you.

“So ready f’me?” You nod weakly. “Good, need to have a whole fucking clan of Gojos, yeah? Gonna give it to me?”

“Mnh, yes.”

You would give Satoru anything, and finally every piece that seemed so out of sorts is in place, as you found something you didn’t know was missing, and he found a family he didn’t know he had. As he eagerly works you so well that night again, you also know you want to give him more.

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[orangeblossomsintheair]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS (3/3) | CS55

summary : You shouldn’t have said anything. You really shouldn’t have. But it’s too late now. “He sent me a dildo shaped like his cock,” you mutter under your breath, so fast you almost hope she didn’t hear you.

wc : 14k

an : This might be the end of the Illicit Affairs series! Honestly I might write another part (as I intended) but I realized it could also end here. I might work it alongside a few other fics on the back burner.

The thing about Carlos is that he doesn’t tiptoe. He doesn’t hesitate.

He’s the kind of guy who walks into your life, plops down, and acts like he’s always been there.

At first, you think he’s just passing through, like one of those tumbleweeds in old Westerns. Here for a moment, gone in another, leaving only a faint memory and maybe a little dust.

But Carlos is no tumbleweed.

He’s ivy. Creeping into the corners of your life, attaching himself with relentless charm and absolutely zero warning.

At first, it had just been sex.

Carlos calls, you pick up, and the two of you dive headfirst into whatever filthy scenario he’s cooked up for the evening.

It’s hot, it’s fun, and afterwards, you both lie there catching your breath while exchanging a few words like some half-hearted attempt at aftercare.

“Good for you?” he’ll ask, panting, his voice somehow managing to sound both teasing and sincere.

“Sure,” you say, rolling your eyes at the ceiling. “Top ten, at least.”

He laughs. Deep, warm, addictive. “I’ll aim for top five next time.”

It’s simple. Casual. Exactly what you signed up for.

Until it’s not.

Until the minutes start to stretch.

At first, it’s just an extra five. Then ten. Then before you know it, the two of you are sitting there, chatting about absolutely nothing long after the heat of the moment has faded.

Next thing you know Carlos is reaching out for the sake of company.

It’s easy to brush it off at first.

To pretend it’s harmless.

Carlos is just a guy who’s annoyingly good at making you laugh and has a voice so smooth it could probably negotiate world peace or at least a really good discount at a used car dealership.

But then, one afternoon, as you’re scrolling through your texts, you realize something horrifying:

You talk to Carlos more than you talk to your friends.

No, scratch that. You talk to Carlos more than you talk to anyone.

And it’s not just the sheer volume. It’s the content.

It’s the way his words sneak into your day, set up camp, and throw a block party. He texts you good morning before you’ve even had coffee, which is frankly criminal.

Carlos Rise and shine, baby. Did you dream about me again?

You I dreamed I hit you with my car

Carlos Hot. Was I shirtless?

You No, but you were crying. Freaked me out

Carlos Probably because I looked so good

You should block him.

You should delete his number.

You do neither, because somewhere deep down, you’re a masochist.

He doesn’t stop at morning texts either.

He sends unsolicited opinions all day, every day.

Carlos Do you think cows ever get tired of standing?

You They sit, Carlos. They sit all the time.

Carlos Yeah, but like, emotionally? What if they’re just pretending to like grass because they’re scared of change

You What would they change to, exactly? Chicken nuggets?

Carlos Maybe. Cows could be wild carnivores waiting for their moment. We don’t know what they’re capable of.

One day, while you're halfway through a bag of chips, your phone buzzes again.

Carlos Do you think birds ever judge us for not flying?

You You need therapy

Carlos So do you, but I don’t judge

You You judge me constantly 🤨

The banter becomes relentless.

Carlos If you had to pick one food to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?

You Pasta

Carlos Predictable. You’re so basic it physically hurts

You Pretentious words from a man whose favorite snack is probably caviar

Carlos First of all, how dare you

You You’re trash

Carlos Trash that you text back btw

Then comes the random photos.

He sends you a blurry picture of his sneakers one afternoon.

Carlos Do these make me look fast? Be honest, but also lie

You Fast to embarrass yourself

Carlos Wow. Jealousy is a disease. Get well soon

Carlos Does it change anything if I say they’re limited edition

You Limited edition ugly

He sends you a picture of his dog another day, sprawled on the couch like he pays rent.

Carlos We’ve decided to boycott walkies today.

Solidarity with my guy.

You Tell him he’s lazy

Carlos He says those are bold words from someone who hasn’t hit the gym this week

You glare at the screen. It’s 7 a.m. How does he even know that?

You Your dog is illiterate. Don’t drag him into this

Carlos Rude. He’s very smart

You He licks his own butt

He becomes a fixture in your life without you even noticing.

Carlos Did you miss me while I was asleep?

One morning, you’re sipping your coffee when your phone buzzes.

You I slept better knowing you weren’t conscious

Carlos So, you’re saying you dreamt about me

You I dreamt I moved to a remote island where Wi-Fi doesn’t exist

Carlos Romantic getaway for two. Love that for us

You groan, but your fingers are already typing a response.

And somehow, without you realizing it, Carlos isn’t just a voice on the phone or a name on your screen.

He’s everywhere, weaving himself into your days with his relentless humor and absolute refusal to leave you alone.

That’s why when a day passes by without any contact, you’re tilted off balance.

The silence is unnerving.

You tell yourself it’s just one night.

One single night where Carlos doesn’t text or call, and you should be relieved.

Grateful, even, for the reprieve from his relentless antics.

But you’re not.

You spend the evening trying not to think about it.

You scroll through Instagram, open a book, binge half a season of some random series. But every few minutes, you find yourself glancing at your phone, waiting for it to light up.

It doesn’t.

The hours crawl by, and by the time you’re lying in bed, glaring at the ceiling, you’re starting to feel… itchy. Annoyed. Frustrated. And maybe just a little bit unreasonably hurt.

Then, finally, your phone buzzes.

You grab it so fast you nearly knock it off the nightstand.

Carlos Miss me?

Your stomach does a ridiculous little flip, but you type back quickly.

You Not even a little

Carlos Liar

Another message follows: a selfie of him holding the meerkat plushie you’d sent him as a joke a week ago.

Carlos He misses you too

You groan, but your cheeks ache from smiling.

Carlos By the way

Carlos I sent you a gift

You I didn’t get a package?

Carlos Wait

Carlos Call me when you get it

You shake your head, setting your phone down.

It’s probably something stupid. Knowing Carlos, it could be anything from a ridiculous gag gift to an actual penguin.

Two days later, a package arrives.

It’s sitting on your kitchen counter, deceptively normal-looking for something that Carlos sent.

You eye it warily, debating whether you should even bother opening it.

You stare at it for a good ten minutes, arms crossed, trying to decide whether you should call him first or just dump it straight into the trash.

Eventually, curiosity (and mild fear) wins out. You grab your phone and click the topmost contact.

It rings once before he picks up.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you,” Carlos says, his voice smooth and entirely too smug.

“What the hell did you send me?” you demand without preamble.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?”

“Carlos.”

“Yes?”

You groan, already regretting this decision. “I swear to God, if it’s alive-”

“It’s not alive,” he interrupts.

“Then what is it?”

“Open it.”

“No,” you snap. “Because if it’s something awful, I can’t unsee it. I’m preemptively traumatized. Just tell me what it is so I can mentally prepare.”

“That’s not how surprises work,” he replies, completely unbothered.

“It’s not a surprise if I hate it,” you point out.

“You won’t hate it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You might be pleasantly surprised,” he insists, and there’s a tone in his voice, something too smug, too amused, that makes your stomach churn with suspicion.

“Carlos,” you warn.

“Yes?”

“If this is some kind of prank-”

“It’s not a prank,” he says, cutting you off again. “It’s a gift. A thoughtful, meaningful, deeply personal gift.”

“Deeply personal?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at the box like it’s about to explode. “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”

“It’s just a little something to remind you of me,” he adds, which is possibly the least reassuring thing he could have said.

You exhale sharply through your nose, setting your phone down on the counter so he can see.

His face lights up on the screen, all lazy smirks and overconfidence, and you hate the way your stomach flips at the sight of him.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, you slice through the tape with the caution of someone defusing a bomb.

Carlos watches you with rapt attention, his chin resting on his hand. “Excited?”

“I’m terrified,” you deadpan, peeling back the flaps of the box.

For a moment, you just stare.

Then, you shriek. Loudly.

“Carlos, what the fuck?!”

He leans closer to the camera, his grin widening. “You like it?”

“You sent me a dildo?!” you yell, your voice an octave higher than usual.

“Not just any dildo,” he says smugly, sitting back like he’s the king of the universe.

You stare at him, then at the object in the box, and back at him again.

It looks… normal, at first glance.

But then you notice the size. The veins. The shade.

The very specific details.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, horror dawning. “It’s your… your…”

“My cock,” he supplies helpfully. “Yep.”

“Carlos!” you screech, clutching the box like it’s cursed. “You’re a lunatic!”

“True,” he says, completely unfazed. “But admit it- you’re impressed.”

“Impressed?!” you repeat, your voice pitching even higher. “What is WRONG with you?!”

“A lot,” he admits, far too cheerfully. “But you already knew that.”

“How did you even- who does this?!”

“Visionaries,” he says smoothly. “Trendsetters. People who care deeply about customer satisfaction.”

“Customer?!”

“Well, you.”

“I am not your customer!” you yell, holding the replica aloft like it’s a cursed artifact.

Carlos is unbothered. “Technically, you are. You’ve been enjoying the original product for a while now. Or, well, the sight of it.”

You choke on air. “You’re insane.”

“Insanely thoughtful,” he corrects.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re flustered. It's very cute.”

Your jaw drops. “I am not-”

He cuts you off, grinning wider. “So, when’s the test drive?”

“Oh my God,” you mutter, setting the… thing down and burying your face in your hands. “This isn’t happening.”

“Take your time,” he says, magnanimous. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he adds, like this is a completely normal conversation.

“I didn’t ask for this!”

“I know. That’s what makes it such a great surprise,” he says, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Surprise?!” you echo. “I almost had a heart attack!”

“You’ll appreciate it later,” he says confidently.

“I will not!”

“Bet you will.”

“You need therapy,” you hiss, shoving the box away like it might explode.

“And you need lube,” he counters smoothly.

“You’re deranged!”

“Efficient,” he corrects, smirking. “In case you miss me.”

“I don’t!” you lie, your face burning.

Carlos watches you, entirely too pleased with himself. “You’re keeping it, though.”

“I am absolutely not-”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupts, his tone maddeningly smug.

“I am throwing it in the trash right now!” you declare, grabbing the box and stomping toward the trash can.

He leans closer to the camera, completely unbothered. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

You freeze, hand hovering over the trash.

“There it is,” he says smugly. “Knew you wouldn’t.”

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, stomping back to the counter and slamming the box down.

“And yet, here you are, calling me,” he points out.

“Because I needed to yell at you!”

“And now you’re smiling.”

“I am not smiling!” you yell, even as you turn away from the camera to hide the traitorous curl of your lips.

Carlos laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Admit it- you think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s horrifying!”

“You’re laughing on the inside.”

“I’m plotting your murder on the inside,” you snap.

“Sure, sure,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “So. Again. When are you trying it out?”

“Oh my God,” you mutter, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Liar,” he says again, his grin positively devilish.

Before you can come up with a response, he adds, “Just make sure to let me know how it compares to the real thing. For science.”

“You’re insane,” you mutter, grabbing your phone and ending the call with a vicious jab.

Seconds later, your phone buzzes with a text.

Carlos Don’t forget lube, babe. You’re gonna need it. ;)

You stare at the screen, your cheeks burning.

Carlos And batteries. Unless you want to do it the old-fashioned way. Your call.

You want to throw the phone, the box, and maybe yourself out the nearest window.

You Blocked

Carlos Bad girl.

—

Carlos has this way of getting under your skin. Not in an infuriating, "I can’t believe I’m dealing with this" kind of way, but more in the likes of "Why do I secretly enjoy this ridiculousness?"

It starts with a string of increasingly pathetic messages.

Carlos Please?

Carlos Just once?

Carlos I take that back.

Carlos Twice? Maybe even thrice

Carlos C’mon, I’ll be good

Carlos I’m literally begging here

Carlos On my knees

Carlos Pathetically btw

Carlos Do you need a photo for proof?

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of your head.

You Carlos, we are not doing this again

Carlos You say that

Carlos But I feel like deep down you want to. You’re just being stubborn

He replies instantly, because of course he’s sitting there, waiting for your response like his life depends on it.

“Stubborn,” you deadpan, fingers hovering over your phone. “Sure. That’s definitely it.”

And then he hits you with a voice note, because apparently texts alone can’t convey his desperation.

You don’t even mean to open it, but your thumb slips, and suddenly there he is, using that tone that he knows gets to you.

"Just once," he begs, words spilling out of your speakers like some lovesick fool. "I swear I’ll make it worth your time. Please. I just wanna watch you take me again."

You know you shouldn’t.

It’s ridiculous, bordering on embarrassing.

But then you picture his face, probably flushed, probably biting his lip in that way that always gets to you, and against your better judgment, you cave.

You Fine. But just this once

Carlos I love you

Carlos You’re the best

Carlos I’m naming my firstborn after you

You Just call me

Carlos Yes ma'am 🥰

When the call connects, you're met with the sight of Carlos lounging on his couch looking very much the part of a man who's won an impossible bet.

One arm is draped lazily over the backrest, laptop balanced on his thighs.

The soft glow from the screen highlights the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that you know feels just as delicious as it looks.

The smirk that he wears is devastating. An expression of smug satisfaction that makes your pulse race even as you curse him for it.

His shirt clings to his broad chest, the undone buttons teasing you with a glimpse of hard lines across tanned skin.

His eyes are locked onto you.

There’s heat in them, hunger.

He’s relaxed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him, the way he’s barely holding himself back.

And you?

You’re perched on your bed, knees tucked beneath you, completely bare.

The dildo lies heavy in your hand, the silicone cool against your flushed skin.

The sheer indecency of it sends a rush of heat through you, making your thighs clench.

Carlos smirks, his hand disappearing offscreen for a moment, only to return with a slow stroke along his already hard cock.

He leans forward slightly, the movement drawing your eyes to the way his length twitches in his hand.

For someone who was shamelessly begging just minutes ago, Carlos is playing it way too cool now.

“Naked on your bed, holding a mold of my dick,” he says, his voice smooth like it’s a damn sales pitch. “I mean, come on. That’s the kind of devotion poets write sonnets about.”

You snort, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks heat up. “Oh, yeah. Shakespeare totally had this in mind when he wrote, ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day.’”

“Exactly. I’m a classic, baby. Timeless.”

“Delusional,” you counter, grabbing the bottle of lube with way more force than necessary.

His laugh is low and warm, the kind that annoyingly makes your stomach flip. “Call it what you want, but you didn’t say no to my ‘gift.’”

Your glare falters, just for a second, and he catches it immediately. Carlos thrives on cracks in your armor, and his smirk sharpens like a predator who just spotted its prey.

You glare at the bottle in your hand like it personally wronged you. "I hate you," you mutter, squeezing out a glob of lube.

Carlos's face lights up on the screen, all smug satisfaction and unearned charm. "Funny, because you're doing exactly what I asked. Almost like you want to."

"Don’t push your luck,”

He leans closer to his camera, his grin widening. "Oh, pushing my luck is my favorite hobby. You know this."

You level him with a deadpan stare. "And yet, here you are. Still single."

"Wow. Low blow. But fine, I'll allow it, because you're about to make my night."

"Make your night?" You scoff, dragging this out purely to annoy him. "I’m just trying to remember what this was called. A gag gift, right? Or was it just a waste of money?"

His jaw drops. "A gag gift? I can’t believe you’d say that. This is art."

"This is silicone," you reply flatly, holding up the toy with a disapproving shake of your head.

"Silicone art," he corrects, pointing at the screen like that changes anything. His grin sharpens. "And don’t pretend you weren’t curious the moment I sent it to you."

"You sent this to annoy me," you retort, spreading the lube over your fingers with dramatic flair. "And congratulations, it worked."

Carlos leans forward, his chin propped on his hand as he watches you, his dark eyes glittering with mischief.

"Oh, but look at you now. All lubed up and ready to go. Who's the real winner here, hmm?"

"Still me," you shoot back, though your fingers falter as you glance down at the toy.

Your grip tightens as if it’s a stress ball, and the obscene squelch it makes has you biting back a groan.

Carlos’s smirk grows. "Careful, sweetheart. You keep squeezing it like that, and I’ll think you’re practicing for something."

You let out a sharp breath through your nose, refusing to look at him. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

He leans in even closer. "And you’re still here. Lube in hand. Ready to-"

"Don’t finish that sentence," you interrupt, finally looking up to glare at him. "I’ll block you."

Carlos snickers, leaning back like he’s won. "You’d never block me. I’m your favorite pain in the ass."

"No," you say, grabbing the toy with more force than necessary. "You're just a pain in the ass in general. Huge difference."

His brow arches as he watches you spread the lube along the length of the toy, the slick sound louder than your ego can handle. You freeze mid-motion, hyper-aware of his gaze tracking every movement.

Carlos’s grin falters for a moment, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His voice drops an octave. "Good girl."

The unexpected praise punches the air out of your lungs, and your hands falter, nearly dropping the toy.

"Keep going," he murmurs, his tone rich with satisfaction. His eyes don’t leave yours, the heat in them curling low in your stomach. "Let me see you do it."

Your pride flares, and you straighten your spine, lifting your chin as you resume your movements with exaggerated precision.

"You’re lucky I don’t throw this thing across the room," you grumble.

Carlos hums, his gaze shamelessly lingering. "You wouldn’t dare. That thing cost more than your dignity."

"Bold words for someone whose dignity died in 2016," you snap, but the banter feels more like a lifeline now, a way to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze.

The corner of his mouth lifts, cocky and infuriating. "Touché."

You inhale sharply, your hands trembling slightly as you grip the toy.

You hate how your body reacts to him, how his voice, his laugh, his everything gets under your skin like this.

Carlos leans forward again, his smirk all-knowing. "Having fun yet?"

Your pride makes you glare at him. “Fuck you.”

His laugh is low, indulgent, the sound curling around you like smoke. "Soon, sweetheart. Very soon."

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” he fires back smoothly, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

His voice drops to a growl. "But you won’t, will you? You’ll do exactly what I say because you love being told what to do. Makes you wet just thinking about it, doesn’t it?"

Your lips part, but the sharp retort you’re trying to form dies as his gaze drops to your hands.

His smirk fades, replaced by a hunger so fierce it leaves you breathless.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction.

The unexpected praise sends a rush of heat straight to your core. "Keep going. Let me see you do it."

Your fingers tremble as you continue spreading lube on the length of the toy, the silicone cool against your skin.

“Fuck,” Carlos breathes, his hand tightening around his cock. “Look at you, already so obedient. Knew you’d listen.”

He shifts slightly, his voice softening. “Now, spread those legs for me. Show me how wet you are. I want to see that pretty pussy you’ve been thinking about me filling.”

Your thighs part, the cool air brushing against your slick heat as you settle back against the pillows.

His sharp inhale through the speakers sends a jolt straight to your core.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice strained.

His hand pauses on his cock as he drinks in the sight of you, dark eyes dragging over every inch of exposed skin. "You’re so fucking perfect. Do you even realize how bad I want to bury myself in you right now?"

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the heat spreading from your cheeks to your chest as the ache between your thighs sharpens with every passing second of his unrelenting stare.

Slowly, you drag the toy through your folds, the soft, slick sound of your arousal breaking the tense silence.

It’s obscene, the way the wetness clings, glistening on the head of the silicone.

Your arousal drips along your thighs, the skin glistening under the low light and you can feel how messy you’ve become, how utterly soaked you are.

"Oh, sweetheart," he rasps, his eyes fixed on the toy and the way it slides against your swollen folds. "That's it. Get it nice and wet for me. I want to see just how desperate you are to take it."

Your fingers tremble as you position the toy at your entrance, the blunt tip pressing against your slick heat. You hesitate, glancing up at him through the screen.

“Carlos…”

“Go on, baby,” he urges, his tone soft but insistent. “Don’t make me wait. I want to see you take it.”

You bite your lip, a soft whine escaping as you slide the tip between your folds again. His gaze darkens, his strokes faltering as he watches you hover above it.

The moment the dildo breaches the first ring of muscles, your head falls back with a moan that’s nothing short of sinful.

Carlos’s eyes burn through the screen, dark and wild, his fist sliding steadily up and down his cock as he watches you begin to move.

“Fuck, baby, look at you,” he groans, his voice rough and needy. “You’re so fucking tight. That little pussy is made for me, isn’t it?”

You whimper, your hips starting to bounce, your slick heat making it easier to slide up and down. The toy stretches you so perfectly, but it’s his words that send fire shooting through your veins.

“Yes,” you gasp, gripping the bed to keep your balance. “It’s yours, Carlos. Always yours.”

“Damn right it is,” he growls, stroking himself faster. “You'd rather have me inside you, stretching you out, making you scream my name, hm? Doesn't matter if it's a mold from my cock. Still can't compare, yeah?”

Your hips jerk at his filthy words, and you pick up the pace, grinding down harder until the toy presses right against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice dripping with dominance. “Say how much you want my cock, baby. Tell me what you miss.”

“I miss you,” you cry out, each bounce making your voice tremble. “Miss the way you fill me up, how fucking deep you get- oh god, Carlos-”

“That’s my girl,” he groans, his jaw tightening as he watches the way your body moves, the slick sounds of the dildo sliding in and out of you driving him insane.

“You’d take me so good, wouldn’t you? Let me fuck you until you can’t even think, until you’re dripping all over my cock.”

“Please,” you whine, your fingers digging into the sheets as the pleasure builds, your body tightening around the toy with every bounce. “I need it. Need you to fuck me, Carlos. Need to feel you come inside me-”

“Shit,” he growls, his hips jerking up into his hand. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Feeling me stretch you open, filling you so full you’d still be dripping with me the next day.”

Your head is spinning, the combination of his words and the relentless drag of the dildo inside you sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“You’d let me do whatever I want, wouldn’t you?” His voice is a low, dirty rasp now, his strokes frantic as he chases his release. “You’d let me bend you over, fuck you on every surface in the house, make you come over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”

You nod desperately.

“Go faster, baby” Carlos murmurs, his voice low and rough.

You whimper, obeying.

Each downward motion stretches you all over again, and the fullness makes your eyes flutter shut as a moan spills from your lips.

Carlos’s growl cuts through the speakers, low and rough. “You look so pretty fucking yourself on it like that.”

You lift yourself just enough for the toy to drag along your walls, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through you.

When you sink back down, the stretch feels even deeper. Your thighs tremble, your pace picking up as the need builds inside you.

“Fuck,” Carlos groans. “Your tits are bouncing so perfectly. Keep going, baby, let me see them move while you ride it.”

Your breasts sway with each bounce, the motion only adding to the heat pooling low in your belly.

The way his eyes lock onto you, dark, hungry, devouring, makes your nipples pebble, the cool air only amplifying the sensation.

“You look so fucking good,” Carlos murmurs, half mindless, his strokes on his cock quickening as he watches you. “Look at how deep it’s stretching you. Look at the way your tits bounce every time you take it. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

You can’t stop now, the pleasure too much to ignore.

Your hips grind down harder, rolling in small circles as you press yourself against the base of the toy.

Each motion sends shocks of ecstasy through you, your slick heat gripping the silicone like you never want it to leave.

“Bounce on it harder,” he says.

Your hands grip the sheets tightly as you obey, your hips lifting and dropping with more urgency.

The wet, obscene sound of the toy sliding in and out of you fills the room, mixing with your soft gasps and moans. Your breasts bounce with every movement, and you feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

“Baby,” Carlos groans, his fist tightening around his cock as he watches you ride the toy. “You’re so fucking perfect. You’d ride me just like that, wouldn’t you? Taking every inch, letting me stretch you open until you can’t handle it.”

Your breath catches, your body arching as you grind down harder, the toy hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. “Carlos,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “It feels so good- so fucking full-”

“That’s it,” he growls, his strokes turning frantic as he watches you lose yourself. “Take it all, baby. Keep bouncing. I want to see you come while you’re stretched out like that.”

“Yes,” you gasp, your body trembling as you grind harder, your cries turning into broken moans. “Carlos, I’m- fuck, I’m gonna come-”

“Do it,” he growls, his eyes locked on you, his voice pure command. “Come for me, baby. I want to see it. Show me how fucking good I make you feel.”

Your body shatters at his words, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clench around the toy, your cries spilling out uncontrollably as pleasure courses through you.

“Fucking hell,” Carlos groans, his own release hitting him hard as he watches you fall apart. His hand jerks wildly as he spills over himself, his groans mixing with your whimpers through the screen.

As you both come down, the air is thick and charged, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. Carlos grins at you, looking like the devil himself, his chest still heaving.

“Pretty girl.”

—-

Carlos’s phone is propped up against his water bottle, the screen showing you on the other end of the line as the two of you talk over lunch.

He’s at a small café near the gym, picking at a plate of grilled chicken and rice while you sit on the terrace of a restaurant somewhere near the Monaco Marina.

He can’t tell which restaurant exactly, but it doesn’t matter. He’s too focused on the way the sunlight catches in your hair, how you’re picking at a croissant with absentminded precision.

“So, wait,” you say, mid-bite. “You’re telling me you thought you could just wing the French?”

Carlos grins, popping a spoonful into his mouth. “I did wing it. The waiter understood me perfectly.”

“Sure,” you deadpan. “Because pointing at the menu is such a skill.”

He chuckles, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “Why complicate things? A man’s gotta eat.”

You shake your head, your exasperation half-hearted at best. “You’re hopeless.”

“Worked, didn't it?” he counters smoothly, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

You roll your eyes but don’t argue, which feels like a victory.

For a moment, the conversation drifts to lighter topics.

Where you’d want to travel next, the chaos of his morning workout, and whether or not croissants count as dessert.

It’s easy, effortless, the kind of back-and-forth that feels like second nature.

But then you glance down, suddenly fidgeting with your sleeve, and Carlos picks up on the shift immediately.

“What’s that face?” he asks, leaning forward, curiosity laced in his tone.

You pause, debating, then sigh. “Can I tell my friends about this?”

Carlos blinks. “This?”

“Us,” you say, casually, but the word lands heavier than you probably realize.

He freezes for a split second, his mind stalling like a rookie stalling a car on the grid.

Us.

You don't mean it in the way that’s currently making his chest feel too tight, but it doesn’t stop the word from echoing in his head.

You take another bite of your croissant like you haven’t just derailed his entire thought process.

“Legally? No.” he says, recovering with a smirk. “You’re under NDA. You can’t even mention I exist.”

Your eyes narrow. “Carlos, no one cares that much about you.”

“Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically.

You shake your head, your expression flat. “Be serious. Is it okay or not?”

He leans back, draping an arm over his chair and studying you with an unreadable expression.

The truth is, he should say no. He should remind you how much he values his privacy, how careful he has to be.

But the thought of you talking about him, to your friends, no less, makes him feel... proud. Like he’s somehow made it onto a list of people who matter to you.

“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice casual. “Go ahead.”

“Really?”

“Why not?”

You narrow your eyes, clearly suspicious. “You’re not going to show up at my door with legal threats if I say something stupid?”

“Not unless it’s really stupid,” he teases.

Your unimpressed stare makes him grin wider. “You’re annoying,” you mutter, but your tone lacks any real bite.

“You love me though,” he counters easily.

He watches as your face softens, just for a moment, and something about it makes his heart stutter in a way he’d never admit.

“You’re impossible,” you say, shaking your head.

“And you like it,” he fires back, his voice light, though there’s a trace of sincerity underneath it.

The conversation shifts again, and by the time you glance at your watch, he’s already dreading the inevitable.

“I should go,” you say, reaching for your coffee cup.

“Busy?”

“Not really,” you admit, but you’re already sitting straighter, ready to leave.

Carlos hesitates, leaning forward slightly. “Hey.”

You pause, looking up at him expectantly.

“Call me again tomorrow,” he says, softer this time.

Your brow lifts, a flicker of curiosity crossing your face. “Why?”

He shrugs, fighting the grin threatening to take over. “I like hearing your voice.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, and he thinks maybe, just maybe, you’re about to call him out on it.

But then you roll your eyes, hiding a smile that he doesn’t miss.

“Goodbye, Carlos,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for the screen.

The call ends, and Carlos sits back in his chair, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he stares at the now-empty screen.

Us.

—-

It’s the bimonthly girlfriend meet-up, and Kika’s already locked onto you like a heat-seeking missile.

“So, there’s this guy,” you say casually, swirling your wine like this isn’t about to become the most chaotic conversation of your week.

Her brow arches, her smirk appearing like she’s just been handed premium-grade gossip.

“Oh?” she says, leaning in.

“Yes,” you reply, taking a slow sip from your glass, because wine is courage, and you need a lot of it right now.

“Tell me more,” she says, her tone deceptively sweet, like a predator coaxing its prey closer.

You hesitate. There’s no way you’re telling her the guy in question is Carlos Sainz.

That would be insane. Absolutely unhinged.

One, because it’s Carlos Sainz.

Two, because it’s Carlos fucking Sainz.

“We’ve been… hooking up,” you say vaguely, hoping to skate by with minimal detail.

Kika narrows her eyes. “Hooking up? Where? I haven’t seen you at the club scene lately, and I definitely haven’t heard from Charles about you sneaking out.”

You blink at her. “Why would Charles know- wait. Are you spying on me?”

“No,” she says breezily, waving a hand. “But Charles knows everything about you. If you were sneaking around Monaco with a guy, I’d know by now.”

Kika tilts her head, studying you. “So if it’s not a local guy…”

She pauses. Then her eyes widen. “Oh my God. Is it a long-distance thing? Is this why you’ve been all ‘mysterious vibes’ lately?”

You sigh, realizing you’re caught. “It’s phone sex, okay?”

Kika blinks. “Phone sex?”

“Yes,” you say, downing the rest of your wine in one gulp. “We’re doing… phone stuff.”

She hums, sitting back, her gaze calculating. “It’s a famous guy, isn’t it?”

“What?!” you sputter. “How did you- why would you even-”

“Ma’am, look at you.” She gestures at you like you’re an exhibit at the Louvre. “You’re gorgeous. You’re you. Why would you ever settle for phone sex unless it’s, like, some Vogue model or an A-lister who’s too busy jet-setting to see you in person?”

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, trying to laugh her off, but it sounds more like a dying animal.

Her grin turns absolutely wicked, the kind of wicked that makes you instantly regret ever letting her into your life. “Oh, so it is a famous guy. You just gave yourself away. Who is it? Spill.”

“I did not!” you protest, but it’s weak. Too weak.

Kika hums, tapping a finger on her chin as she tilts her head. “Hmm. Let me think. Is it an actor? A musician? Oh my God, is it Harry Styles? Blink once for yes.”

“Kika-”

“Wait!” She gasps, cutting you off and slapping the table. “Is it a prince? Are you pulling a Meghan Markle? Are we about to be royalty by proxy?”

“Kika!” you hiss, glaring at her as a nearby table turns to look at the commotion.

“Okay, okay, fine. I'll behave.”

“But,” she adds, holding up a finger and wagging it at you, “you can’t just stop there. I want details. Stories. Anecdotes. What have you two done other than, like, phone sex? That can’t be it, right? Kick it up a notch. Spice things up.”

Your face burns, and you take a long, slow sip of your drink, desperately trying to buy time. “We… talk.”

Kika stares at you, unimpressed. “Talk? Oh, please. You’re telling me a man calls you up just to talk?”

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Sometimes.”

Her grin turns sharper. “And the other times?”

You look away, pretending to be fascinated by the texture of the tablecloth.

“Oh no,” she says, leaning in like a predator cornering its prey. “You’re not getting out of this. What does he say? What does he do? Don’t make me guess because I will make it a thousand times worse.”

You groan, your head falling into your hands. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I care about you,” she says sweetly, patting your hand before grinning again. “Now spill. What’s the wildest thing he’s done so far? Flown you out to a private island? Sent you a love letter written in champagne? What are we working with here?”

You hesitate. You know telling her anything will only fuel her chaos, but at this point, it feels like you don’t have a choice.

“Fine,” you mumble. “He, um… he sent me a… package.”

You take a long sip of your wine, trying to ignore Kika’s razor-sharp gaze burning into the side of your face.

You shouldn’t have said anything. You really shouldn’t have.

But it’s too late now.

“He sent me a dildo shaped like his cock,” you mutter under your breath, so fast you almost hope she didn’t hear you.

Kika chokes on her wine. Full-on chokes. She’s sputtering, clutching her chest as her eyes go wide.

Meanwhile, you calmly sip your drink, staring at some random painting on the wall like it’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.

“WHAT?!” she finally manages, her voice about three octaves higher than usual.

“I’m not saying it again,” you reply coolly, refusing to meet her gaze.

“He sent you a-” she starts, and then bursts into laughter so loud half the restaurant turns to look at your table.

You shoot her a glare, shushing her. “Could you not announce it to the entire world?”

“Oh my God,” she wheezes, clutching her stomach. “Mr. Mystery sent you a dildo shaped like his cock?!”

You take another sip of wine, your cheeks burning. “It was… thoughtful.”

“THOUGHTFUL?!” she howls. “He’s out here like, ‘What’s a practical gift? Ah, yes, my dick!’”

“It’s not a big deal,” you mumble into your hands, praying the floor will swallow you whole.

“Not a big- ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” She’s laughing so hard she can barely breathe.

“Kika,” you hiss, kicking her under the table.

“That’s so romantic,” she says, ignoring you entirely. “Forget flowers. Forget jewelry. Nothing says love like, ‘Here’s my dick. In case you miss me.’”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Are you kidding? This is the best thing you’ve ever told me,” she says, still grinning like a lunatic.

She leans forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you… do you keep it on your nightstand? Like, right next to your lamp? Is it displayed like a trophy? Maybe on one of those little velvet stands?”

“Kika!” you hiss, glancing around the café as if someone might overhear this absolute chaos.

Her laughter crescendos, attracting a few curious stares from nearby tables. She waves them off with a flick of her wrist, too far gone to care.

“No, seriously, I need to know. Oh God, imagine if you lose it. Like, it’s just missing one day and you’re crawling around under your couch yelling, ‘Mr. Mystery, where’s your dick?!’”

You groan, your head dropping into your hands. “Can you be serious for one second?”

She sucks in a breath, fanning herself like she’s about to faint. “Okay, okay. Serious. Totally serious. I’m done. Promise.”

You peek at her through your fingers, skeptical. “You sure?”

She nods, biting her lip to stifle another laugh. “Totally. Except… I have one more question.”

You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling like it might grant you patience. “What now?”

She leans in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Is it… accurate?”

You freeze, horrified. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” she cries, grabbing your arm before you can stand. She’s laughing again, her grip on your sleeve shaking with the force of it. “Come on, I’m kidding! Mostly. But seriously. Is it accurate? Like, should we call MythBusters?”

You gape at her, flabbergasted. “Why would I answer that?”

“Because I’m dying to know!” she says, eyes gleaming.

You shake her off and reach for your bag. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re avoiding the question,” she fires back, wagging a finger at you like a smug prosecutor. “Which makes me think it’s very accurate.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re lucky I haven’t thrown this glass of wine at you.”

“Please,” she scoffs, twirling her straw. “You’d never waste good wine. Now, answer me. Did he measure it himself, or do you think there was a mold involved? Like, did he sit there in some science lab with a team of experts, being all, ‘Make sure you get the angle right!’?”

“Oh my God,” you groan, covering your face again.

The two of you quiet down as a waiter approaches your little corner.

It’s quiet for a moment—mercifully quiet.

Kika is vibrating with barely restrained laughter, and you’re praying she doesn’t lose it while he’s standing there.

The waiter sets down your plates, refills your glasses, and gives Kika a quick, confused glance because she’s shaking like a malfunctioning washing machine.

You smile at him—tight, polite, please don’t ask questions, I beg you—and he wisely scurries off.

The second he’s out of earshot, Kika slams her hands on the table, rattling the cutlery. “Let me see it.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva. “What?! No!”

“Why not?” she demands, like this is a perfectly reasonable request.

“Why not? Because we’re in a crowded restaurant, that’s why!” you hiss, clutching your purse like it’s a medieval chastity belt.

She leans forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you’re saying there’s a non-crowded situation where you’d show me?”

“That’s not what I said!”

She smirks. “Sure, but you didn’t not say it.”

“Kika, I swear to God-”

“Just one peek,” she pleads, like she’s asking for a bite of your dessert. “Under the table. No one will even notice!”

“Under the- what are you, a contraband dealer?” you whisper-yell. “This is not a shady back-alley dildo exchange!”

She grins, undeterred. “So, what does it look like? Is it… metallic?”

You freeze. “Why would it be metallic?!”

“I don’t know! Maybe it’s fancy. Maybe it’s, like, a collector’s item.”

“It’s not a lightsaber, Kika!”

She gasps, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh my God. Does it light up?!”

“No!”

“Are you sure?” she presses, narrowing her eyes. “Maybe it has LEDs. You know, for… ambiance.”

—

Kika’s obsession with the whole thing also refuses to let up. She knows, and worse, she loves knowing.

It starts small: innocent comments here and there, teasing questions she doesn’t expect you to answer.

But over time, her nosiness evolves into full-blown meddling. She’s not just curious. She’s invested.

And one day, it all comes to a head.

Kika cracks.

Or rather, her big mouth does.

“This is too good,” she hisses over the phone like she’s smuggling state secrets. “I can’t keep it to myself any longer.”

You drop your sandwich mid-bite, the mayo squelching onto the table. “What the hell do you mean you can’t keep it to yourself?”

“This secret,” she says, as if it’s physically weighing her down. “It’s eating me alive. I can’t keep it anymore.”

You groan. “Kika, we’ve talked about this. It’s not your secret to keep.”

“Which is exactly why I need to tell someone!” she snaps, like that’s a logical leap. “It’s not mine! It’s yours! I’m just... borrowing it, and now I’m returning it to the universe.”

“That’s not how secrets work,” you deadpan, rubbing your temples.

“I need to tell someone! Please, let me tell Alex,” she begs, her voice desperate, like she’s asking for kidney donation approval.

You choke. You actually choke, sputtering on your words like a broken engine. “Are you insane? Have you lost what little is left of your mind?”

“She’s so cool! She won’t tell anyone, I swear.” Kika’s tone is sunny, like she’s campaigning for Alex to win Best Confidant of the Year. “She loves secrets! She’s a vault!”

“She’s my brother’s girlfriend! My. Brother’s. Girlfriend.” You emphasize each word like you’re explaining calculus to a toddler.

“And a great secret keeper regardless of who she’s dating!” She chirps, undeterred.

“She’s dating my brother,” you hiss, as if saying it will drive the point home in her thick skull, pacing across your room like a caged animal. “Do you not see the problem here?”

“I see no problem,” she says brightly. “Alex is the Fort Knox of secrets. She’ll take this to her grave.”

“She’ll take it to my brother,” you counter, jabbing the air with your finger even though she can’t see you. “And then my brother will take it to my mom, and then my mom will take it to church, and next thing you know, I’m being exorcised for sins of the phone!”

Kika laughs, the kind of laugh that means she’s not taking you seriously at all. “Don’t be dramatic. Your mom would faint.”

“Kika!” you hiss, lowering your voice even though no one else is in the room. “If you tell her, I swear to God, I’ll... I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call Mr. Mystery and complain about me?” Her grin is practically audible.

“Yes, and he’ll agree with me!” you snap, clutching your phone so tightly it’s a miracle it doesn’t crack. “Because this is not a group project!”

“Okay, okay!” She gasps, wheezing like she just finished a marathon. “I won’t tell her! I swear!”

You pause, narrowing your eyes even though she can’t see you. “Wait. Really?”

“No,” she says flatly, so matter-of-fact you feel your brain short-circuit. “I’m absolutely telling her. She’s going to lose her mind.”

You let out a shriek so loud your upstairs neighbor thumps on the floor in retaliation. “Kika, if you even breathe a word”

“Just picture it!” she interrupts, steamrolling over your protest. You can hear her bouncing on her bed. “I’ll text her right now. Something casual, like, ‘Hey Alex, you’re never going to believe-’”

“Fine!” you snap, throwing yourself onto the bed so hard the mattress squeaks in protest. “Fine, just tell her! But we do it in the next meet-up! I have to be present to keep your unruly mouth shut!”

Kika lets out an unholy squeal, the kind that makes dogs two blocks over start barking. You yank the phone away from your ear, grimacing.

“This is the best day of my life,” she announces, and you can practically hear her smirk.

“This is the worst day of mine,” you counter, dragging a pillow over your face and screaming into it.

“Relax,” she says breezily. You hear the telltale sound of typing. “Alex is going to eat this up. She loves a little drama.”

You lower the pillow just enough to breathe. “This isn’t drama. This is my life unraveling because you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh, please. You’re being dramatic,” she says, her tone so casual you almost throw your phone across the room. “It’s not like we're sending the story to Charles. That would be a scandal.”

You sit bolt upright. “Kika, I swear to all that is holy, if this gets back to him-”

“It won’t!” she chirps. “Unless Alex tells him. But she won’t. Probably.”

“Probably?!” Your voice cracks, and you claw at your scalp like you’re trying to yank out the stress by the roots.

“She’s trustworthy! You trust her, right?” Kika says, still typing away.

“No! I don’t trust anyone!” you shout, rolling onto your stomach and pounding your fists into the mattress. “Least of all you!”

Kika laughs so hard she starts coughing. “Oh, you’ll thank me for this one day,” she chokes out between wheezes.

“Unlikely,” you mutter.

“Anyway, gotta go! I’ll let you know if Alex is available next week,” Kika says brightly, and then the call ends before you can respond.

You stare at your phone in silence, a deep sense of dread pooling in your stomach.

Mistakes were made. By you. Specifically by trusting Kika with anything.

—

The restaurant is stupidly fancy, the kind of place where the bread basket comes with a backstory and the waiters judge you if you butter too enthusiastically.

You sit on the terrace, the Mediterranean sparkling behind you like a postcard that refuses to let you forget how expensive everything is.

Your table has a perfect view of the marina, where billionaires are essentially playing a game of “whose yacht is bigger.”

Not that you’re paying attention.

Alex and Kika are too busy ruining your life for you to focus on anything else.

Alex is halfway through her sea bass when you drop the bomb.

She freezes, her knife poised mid-cut, before her hand falls to the table.

Her fork clatters onto the porcelain plate, loud enough to make a few patrons turn their heads.

You wince, sinking lower in your chair.

Across from you, Kika sips her champagne, completely unbothered. She smirks, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“You’re kidding,” Alex says, eyes wide with disbelief.

Kika doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, she’s not kidding,” she says, swirling her glass lazily. “She’s dead serious.”

You squirm under Alex’s gaze, picking at your lobster ravioli like it might swallow you whole if you wish hard enough. “It’s not a big deal,” you mumble.

Alex snorts, an uncharacteristically undignified sound for someone who normally looks like she belongs on the cover of Vogue.

“Not a big deal?” she repeats, her voice rising just enough to make you glance nervously at the tables around you.

“Shut it. People are going to hear,” you hiss.

“Oh, darling,” Kika cuts in, her grin widening. “If people heard, they’d ask for more details. Probably start taking notes.”

Alex ignores her, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, etiquette be damned.

“You’re telling me you’ve been having phone sex with some elite celebrity and it’s ‘not a big deal?’”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Can we not call it that?”

“What would you prefer?” Kika asks, her eyes practically sparkling. “Verbal intimacy? Oral storytelling?”

“I hate you both,” you mutter.

Alex waves her off, laser-focused on you. “And the… gift?” she asks, voice dripping with disbelief. “Are we glossing over the fact that he sent you a dildo?”

“It was thoughtful,” Kika offers, deadpan, before taking another sip of champagne.

“Stop helping,” you snap at her.

“I mean, really,” Alex continues, ignoring the interruption. “The man is rich, probably gorgeous to somehow convince you to give him a chance, could maybe have anyone he wants- and he’s doing phone sex with you?”

You glare at her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You know what I mean,” she says, brushing off your sarcasm. “Why would he go through all this effort unless-” She stops, her eyes narrowing slightly like she’s just cracked the Da Vinci Code.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” you ask, already dreading whatever is coming next.

“That man is in love with you,” Alex declares, her tone final, like she’s just announced a royal decree.

You choke on air, coughing so violently that Kika reaches over to thump your back, more amused than concerned. “He is not in love with me!” you wheeze.

“He absolutely is,” Alex insists, sitting back and crossing her arms.

“That’s a huge leap,” you argue, waving your hands in front of you. “How do you get ‘in love’ from… from phone sex and-” You gesture vaguely. “Other things?”

Alex doesn’t blink. “He’s a famous athlete, right?”

“Sure,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “So?”

“So,” she says, leaning forward, “he’s settling for phone sex instead of hooking up with someone in person? That doesn’t happen unless he’s in love.”

“It’s not settling!” you argue, flailing slightly. “It’s convenient! We have an NDA; it’s low effort!”

“Low effort?” Alex raises an eyebrow. “More low effort than walking into a club and taking his pick of willing women?”

“Well… yeah!”

Kika cackles, nearly spilling her drink. “Oh, babe. You really think you’re less effort? That’s adorable.”

You glare at her, but Alex presses on, relentless. “Does he do this with anyone else?”

“How would I know that?” you snap.

“Ask him,” Alex says simply, like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

“Absolutely not!”

“Oh, come on,” Kika says, grinning. “Just casually drop it into conversation. ‘Hey, Mr. Mystery, quick question: am I your only long-distance dirty talk partner, or is this a group activity?’”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I’m not asking him that.”

“Why not?” Alex demands, cutting into her sea bass like this conversation isn’t actively ruining your life. “If it’s no big deal, he won’t mind. And if he does mind, well…” She trails off, her smirk infuriatingly smug.

“Then you’ll know he’s in love with you!” Kika chimes in, practically bouncing in her seat.

“Or he’ll think I’m insane,” you shoot back.

Alex shrugs, entirely unbothered. “Either way, it’s good information to have.”

You sit back in your chair, glaring at the two of them as they sip their champagne like this is the most entertaining lunch they’ve ever had.

“You two are the worst,” you mutter.

Kika raises her glass in a mock toast. “To Mr. Mystery and his poor, emotionally repressed heart.”

Alex clinks her glass against Kika’s with a soft laugh. “And to you,” she adds, “the object of his inconvenient affections.”

You consider grabbing their glasses and chucking them into the marina, but that would only prove their point.

Instead, you stab your ravioli with far more force than necessary, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

Mistakes. So many mistakes.

—

You can’t stop thinking about it.

Carlos. In love with you.

The concept is so utterly ridiculous you actually laugh to yourself, out loud, like a complete maniac.

Because Carlos isn’t in love with you.

That’s not how this works. Carlos doesn’t do “love.” Carlos doesn’t do you.

Well, okay, he does you in certain… contexts, but that’s beside the point.

The point is, Carlos is like a human golden retriever with too much charm for his own good.

He’s nice to everyone. He flirts with everyone. He probably gives everyone those stupid lingering looks that make your knees go weak.

He doesn’t fall in love. And if he did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be with you.

But the thought won’t leave your brain. It’s set up camp there, pitching a tent and roasting marshmallows over the fire of your own self-doubt.

And then the photo happens.

It’s a normal day.

Quiet. Peaceful, even.

You’re in bed scrolling through your phone, feeling pretty good about life.

You’ve got coffee on the nightstand, a blanket wrapped around you, and a vague sense of superiority because you haven’t thought about Carlos in at least six hours.

Then his face pops up on your feed.

Carlos, golden and gorgeous, lounging on a yacht like he’s auditioning for a Bond movie. He’s shirtless, of course. Because of course he is. The sun catches in his hair, and his jawline looks so sharp it could cut glass.

You don’t even blink.

You’re too used to this by now. This is just Carlos being Carlos.

But then you see her.

The girl.

She’s pressed up against him, all long legs and glossy hair and perfect teeth. She’s laughing, her hand resting casually, possessively, on his chest like it’s hers to touch.

Your stomach does something horrifying, like it’s trying to fold in on itself.

It’s fine, you tell yourself. This is normal. Carlos is always surrounded by beautiful women. This means nothing.

But the way he’s looking at her…

You throw your phone across the bed like it just personally insulted you.

Then you lie back and stare at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself you’re not spiraling.

Spoiler alert: you’re totally spiraling.

Which is how you end up calling Kika and Alex.

Because misery loves company, and also because you’re desperate for someone to tell you you’re not crazy.

“Hello?” Kika answers, far too cheerful for your current mood.

“I need help,” you blurt out.

“What kind of help?” she asks cautiously.

“Emotional help,” you say dramatically. “I’m having an existential crisis.”

“Of course you are,” she says. “Hang on, I’m adding Alex.”

“No, don’t-”

Too late. Alex’s voice cuts in, already exasperated. “What happened now?”

“He posted a photo,” you mumble, already regretting this.

“Okay…” Alex says slowly. “And?”

“And there was a girl in it,” you say, your voice climbing an octave.

“Oh my God,” Kika groans.

Alex sighs. “Let me guess. Hot girl, hand on his chest, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine?”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, sitting up. “How do you always know?”

“Because this happens every time,” he says dryly. “It’s cliche at this point. You're a walking cliche.”

You whine. “He looked… happy.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kika asks, “Are you drunk?”

“No!”

“Okay, just checking,” she says. “Because you sound drunk. Or insane. Possibly both.”

“I’m being serious!” you say, flopping back onto the bed. “What if he actually likes her?”

“Then he’s an idiot,” Alex says without hesitation.

“You don’t even know who she is!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “No one’s better than you.”

You groan. “That’s not helpful.”

“Look,” Kika cuts in, her tone gentler now. “You’ve got two options. One, you ask him about it. Two, you do what you always do and overthink yourself into oblivion.”

“Three,” Alex adds, “you block him, move to a remote island, and live off coconuts for the rest of your life.”

“I hate both of you,” you mutter.

“No, you don’t,” Kika says sweetly. “Now, are you going to talk to him or not?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “What if I ask and he laughs at me? Or worse, what if he doesn’t care?”

“Then you’ll know,” Alex says simply.

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it?

Knowing.

Because right now, as painful as it is, not knowing still feels safer than finding out the truth.

“Thanks, guys,” you say finally.

“Anytime,” Kika says. “Now go stalk his Instagram and cry into your coffee like a normal person.”

“Bye,” you grumble, hanging up.

You stare at the ceiling for a long time after that, the ache in your chest refusing to fade.

—

So, you cut him off.

Not all at once, because that would be too obvious, and God forbid Carlos Sainz think you’re actually affected by anything he does.

No, you do it slowly, carefully, like easing out of a party you didn’t really want to attend in the first place.

At first, it’s just a delay in your replies. Not anything dramatic, just enough to make it seem like you’ve got better things to do than hang on his every word.

When he sends a text, you leave it unread for an hour. Maybe two.

(Okay, fine, sometimes you read it immediately and then stare at your phone for thirty minutes trying not to reply, but that’s beside the point.)

When you do respond, you keep it short. Curt, even. No emojis, no playful banter, just cold, functional sentences.

Carlos How’s your day going?

You Busy

Carlos Busy with what?

You Work

He doesn’t push, which is somehow worse.

You want him to notice, to ask what’s wrong, to demand answers you’re not prepared to give. But he doesn’t.

He just keeps texting you, the same way he always has, like nothing’s changed.

When he asks to call, you tell him you’re busy. Which is technically true, if “busy” includes reorganizing your spice rack and watching sad movies while eating ice cream straight out of the tub.

It’s not immediate, but it’s different.

The rhythm of your conversations shifts, the easy flow replaced by stilted exchanges that feel like wading through molasses.

The worst part is how much it hurts.

Because cutting him off isn’t supposed to hurt you. It’s supposed to make things better. Easier. Less messy.

But instead, you’re walking around like some tragic romantic hero, clutching your metaphorical wounds and waiting for someone to ask why you look so miserable.

You try to distract yourself.

You download a meditation app, but the soothing voice telling you to “release your tension” only makes you think about how Carlos used to tease you for clenching your jaw when you were stressed.

You go out with friends, laughing too loud and drinking too much, but every time your phone buzzes, you can’t stop yourself from hoping it’s him.

It usually is.

Carlos Did I do something

You Just busy

Carlos Are you mad at me

You No

You toss your phone onto the couch and stare at it like it’s personally betrayed you. He’s starting to notice, which is both validating and soul-crushing.

Because if he notices, then maybe, just maybe, he actually cares.

And if he actually cares, then maybe cutting him off isn’t the answer.

But then you remember the photo. The girl. The way he looked at her.

And you remind yourself that Carlos Sainz isn’t yours. He never was.

So you keep going.

You tell yourself it’ll get easier. That eventually, his texts will stop coming, and the ache in your chest will fade, and you’ll finally be free of whatever this is.

But for now, you’re just sad and tired and watching Pride & Prejudice for the third time this week, convincing yourself you’re Elizabeth Bennet and he’s Mr. Darcy, except there’s no grand declaration at the end.

There’s just silence.

—

It's one of those times where you answer Carlos' call so he doesn't think you're actively avoiding him.

You’re stretched out on your couch, half-listening as Carlos narrates the chaos of his day, his voice flitting between amusement and exaggerated frustration.

“…and then they tell me the setup’s wrong, again, so I had to sit there, listening to engineers argue for an hour. An hour! I’m telling you, I deserve a medal just for staying awake.”

“Tragic,” you reply, dry as ever. “Truly, you’re the unsung hero of motorsport.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, his tone shifting as if you’ve validated some grand injustice. “Finally, someone understands.”

You hear the faint rustle of fabric, the soft creak of leather, and you know he’s probably leaning back in one of those expensive chairs he likes so much, the ones you tease him about.

It’s a scene you’ve imagined a thousand times—so familiar it borders on comforting.

“So,” he says, drawing out the word like he’s gearing up for something. “Guess where I am right now?”

“Let me think,” you say. “Some glamorous location with a ridiculous view and an overpriced minibar?”

“Close,” he says, and you can hear the grin tugging at his words. “I’m in Monaco.”

Your heart stumbles, just a little, just enough to be annoying, but you keep your voice casual. “Oh, the usual playground of the rich and famous. How very you.”

“Hey, it’s practically home,” he teases, and the warmth in his tone makes your stomach twist. “And speaking of home… aren’t you supposed to be here too? Isn’t that, like, the whole point of being Monegasque?”

You hesitate, just for a beat, but it’s long enough.

“…Wait,” he says, his voice sharpening with suspicion. “You’re not here, are you?”

“I’m in Italy,” you admit, aiming for breezy and landing somewhere closer to forced.

There’s a pause, the kind of silence that feels heavier than it should. “Italy?” he repeats, his voice carefully light, like he’s trying not to make something of it. “What are you doing there?”

“Just am,” you say, shrugging even though he can’t see it.

“Right,” he says slowly, and you can feel the weight of his thoughts pressing through the line.

He doesn’t push it, though, because Carlos is a lot of things, but he’s not the kind of person who asks questions he’s not ready to hear the answers to.

He shifts the conversation after that, steering it back to safer waters.

He tells you about a restaurant he tried, about the ridiculous amount of traffic on his way to the track.

You laugh in the right places, make snarky comments when it’s expected, and for a while, it feels almost normal.

But it’s not.

The photo lingers in the back of your mind like a ghost. Her hand on his chest, his easy grin, the effortless way they fit together.

You thought you could handle it. Thought you could keep things light and easy, pretend that the photo didn’t bother you, that you hadn’t spent an embarrassing amount of time dissecting every pixel like it held some kind of secret truth.

But now, sitting here, listening to him ramble on about his day like everything’s fine, you’re not so sure.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, breaking the flow of his own story. His voice is quieter now, more thoughtful. “You’ve been kind of… off lately. Is everything okay?”

Your breath catches, just for a second.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

There’s a pause, just long enough for you to know he doesn’t believe you.

But he doesn’t call you on it. He just hums softly, like he’s letting you have this one.

The conversation winds down after that. He says something about an early meeting, and you use it as an excuse to end the call.

—

Carlos has a suspicion you’re avoiding him.

Or maybe, just maybe, Charles Leclerc has turned into some kind of shadowy mastermind, meticulously coordinating Carlos’s travel schedule just so he can keep you two apart.

It’s ridiculous, sure, but how else do you explain it?

When Carlos is in Monaco, you’re in Italy. When he’s in Italy, you’re in Mallorca. When he’s in Mallorca, you’ve suddenly jetted off to Switzerland, of all places.

It’s like you’ve taken on the role of “Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego?” with unsettling precision, a game he didn’t even know he was playing until now.

At first, he tried to laugh it off.

Told himself it was just bad timing, a string of coincidences that would eventually break in his favor.

But now? Now it feels deliberate. Calculated. And the worst part is, he knows you. Knows you well enough to feel the subtle shift in the air between you, like a storm quietly gathering on the horizon.

He’s tried to tell himself he’s overthinking it.

That you’ve just been busy, that your life doesn’t revolve around him and his schedule.

But the excuses are starting to ring hollow, even to his own ears.

The delayed responses to his texts. The way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when he finally does manage to catch you available for a call.

And now, sitting alone in his Monaco apartment, his phone resting on the coffee table in front of him like a lifeline you’ve left dangling just out of reach, Carlos can’t shake the weight that’s settled in his chest.

You’re pulling away.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, sudden and brutal.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, his hands running through his hair as he stares at the floor.

His heart feels heavy, tangled up in a mess of confusion and hurt and something he doesn’t want to name.

Why? That’s the question that keeps circling back.

Why are you doing this? Why now, when he feels like he’s finally starting to understand just how much you mean to him?

His mind races, replaying every interaction, every conversation, searching for the moment he might’ve pushed you away without realizing it.

Did he say something? Did he not say enough?

“Dios,” he mutters under his breath, his voice thick with frustration.

He doesn’t want to think it, doesn’t want to believe it, but the thought won’t leave him alone: maybe you’ve finally gotten tired of him.

The idea makes his chest ache, a dull, hollow pain that spreads until it feels like it’s consuming him.

He doesn’t want to lose you, doesn’t want to let go of the quiet moments, the shared laughs, the way you make him feel like he can just be for once.

But what can he do? He can’t force you to stay, can’t make you want him if you don’t.

He picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over your name in his messages and sends a message before he chickens out.

Carlos Where are you right now?

You Still hoping for that coffee date, huh?

Carlos Always

You …Paris

Carlos frowns at his phone, and you can almost hear the mental gears grinding in his head. Paris. Of course, it’s Paris. Because why wouldn’t it be?

Carlos Okay, I’m going there.

Your phone buzzes immediately, the boldness of his response catching you off guard.

You What?

You ARE YOU SERIOUS???

Carlos Yes.

You Carlos, you can’t just drop everything and fly to Paris.

Carlos Watch me.

You stare at your phone, torn between laughing and rolling your eyes. This is insane. You text him back, unsure if you want to be mad or amused.

You This is insane.

Carlos No, it’s determination.

You It’s bordering on stalker behavior.

Carlos Then stop running from me.

You I’m not running!

Carlos You’re in a different country every time I blink. Sounds like running.

You It’s called having a life.

Carlos A life that conveniently never overlaps with mine. Carlos Got it.

You Carlos, I swear to God if you actually come here

He doesn’t reply. The silence settles in, and you think that’s the end of it. Carlos is too sensible to drop everything and fly to Paris, right? Right?

Wrong.

Three hours later, you’re in your hotel room, scrolling through your phone while you regret the third croissant you scarfed down earlier, when you hear a knock at the door.

You frown, setting your phone down. You weren’t expecting anyone.

Another knock, this time more insistent.

Curious, you peek through the peephole. And there he is.

Carlos Sainz.

Standing in the hallway, casually leaning against the doorframe, holding a bouquet of flowers like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Your jaw drops.

You swing the door open before you can think better of it. “What are you doing here?”

Carlos shrugs, flowers in hand. “You said Paris.”

“That wasn’t an invitation!” you hiss, your eyes darting up and down the hallway as if expecting paparazzi to jump out from behind the elevator.

“Seemed like one to me,” he says, unfazed, like he’s the most logical person in the universe. “Besides, I brought flowers. That makes it okay.”

You stand there, staring at him, completely caught between laughing and slamming the door in his face. “This is… I don’t even have words.”

“‘Thank you’ works,” he suggests, stepping past you as if he has every right to be there, dropping onto the armchair with the ease of someone who’s been invited to stay.

“Excuse me-” you splutter, still holding the flowers, but too stunned to do anything with them.

Carlos stretches his legs out in front of him like he’s planning to stay a while. “Nice room. Cozy.”

“You can’t just-” You gesture wildly at him, still holding the flowers like they’re some kind of shield. “Carlos, this is insane!”

“What’s insane,” Carlos says, his voice slicing through the heavy silence, “is how hard you’ve been avoiding me.”

The words hit you like a sharp slap, cutting through the thin armor you’ve been clinging to.

You wince, his accusation landing squarely on the truth you’ve been trying so desperately to bury.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you say, but even as the words leave your mouth, they feel hollow.

A poor, pathetic attempt to cover up the obvious.

His eyes narrow. “Yes, you are,” he replies, his voice edged with a kind of raw frustration you’ve never heard from him before. “You’ve been avoiding me, pulling away like I’ve done something-”

He leans forward, his knuckles white from how hard he’s clenching them. “Did I do something? Tell me, please.”

You shake your head quickly, your chest tightening. “No, Carlos, you didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice cracks, rising just enough to make you flinch. There’s a tremor in his tone, something that tells you this isn’t just frustration- it’s pain.

Your mind races, heart pounding against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape. You can’t look at him.

You can’t meet his eyes because you know what you’ll see there: vulnerability. A rawness you’re too afraid to face.

“I told you, I’m not avoiding you,” you say again, but your voice wavers. The lie cracks as it leaves your lips.

Carlos exhales sharply, a bitter, humorless laugh escaping him. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? You’re not avoiding me? Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell feels like you are.”

His voice lowers, softer now but no less piercing. “You’ve been ignoring my calls, dodging my texts. You won’t even look at me right now.”

He pauses, his voice dropping even further, his words so quiet they’re barely a whisper. “It’s like you’re disappearing right in front of me.”

“I’ve been busy,” you mumble weakly, knowing even as you say it how ridiculous it sounds.

“Busy,” he repeats, dragging the word out like it physically pains him to say it. “Right. Busy. Of course. That’s your excuse? That’s all you’ve got?”

You open your mouth to respond, but he steamrolls ahead, his voice rising in disbelief. “Do you think I’m stupid? Is that it? Like I haven’t noticed you pulling some kind of secret agent disappearing act every time I’m within a five-mile radius?”

“I’m not-”

“Oh, please!” he cuts you off, throwing his hands up dramatically. “When I was in Monaco, you were in Italy. When I was in Italy, you were in Mallorca. When I was in Mallorca, you went to Paris. I thought you cared about the planet!”

“I had a reason!” you defend weakly.

“Oh, sure. Let me guess. You were ‘busy.’” He uses air quotes this time, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Busy doing what? Hiding in the catacombs so I wouldn’t find you?”

“Carlos-”

“No, seriously! Are you Carmen Sandiego? Did you take on a secret job as an international spy and forget to tell me? Because at this point, that’s the only explanation that makes any sense!”

You can’t help it.

A small, nervous laugh escapes you, but it’s swallowed by the look he gives you, a mix of exasperation and something rawer, something vulnerable that wipes the humor from your face instantly.

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “Why are you doing this? What happened? Did I do something?”

“No!” you blurt out, the word rushing out of you like a reflex. “You didn’t do anything-”

“Then what?” he demands, stepping closer, his brows furrowed. “Why does it feel like every time I try to get close to you, you’re already halfway out the door? What is it? Did I say something? Did I forget something important? Did I-”

“Stop!” you snap, your voice louder than you intended, cutting him off mid-spiral. “You didn’t do anything, okay? It’s me!”

He freezes, his hands hovering in the air like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “What do you mean, it’s you?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore, Carlos. I can’t keep pretending like this, like we, don’t mean more to me than it should.”

His brows knit together, confusion flashing across his face. “What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out of you before you can stop them.

Your hands fly to your face, your voice shaking as you add, “Not as a joke. Not as a friend. Not in some ‘haha, Carlos is cute, what if’ kind of way. I’m in love with you, and it’s ruining me, and now I’ve said it, and- oh my God- I’m going to vomit-”

“Wait, what?” Carlos interrupts, his voice a mix of shock and something dangerously close to hope.

“You heard me!” you snap, your hands still covering your face as you pace in frantic little circles. “I’m in love with you, and now I’ve ruined everything, and you’re going to freak out and leave, and then I’ll have to fake my death and move to Antarctica and befriend a penguin colony-”

“Will you stop?” he cuts in, grabbing your arm to stop your pacing. “Just- stop for a second, okay?”

You yank your arm back instinctively, shaking your head. “No, I can’t stop! Because if I stop, I’m going to have to look at you, and if I look at you, I’m going to see the exact moment you decide this is too much, and you walk out of my life forever, and I’m not emotionally equipped for that-”

“Would you listen to me?” he shouts, his voice startling you into silence.

His hands fall to his sides, his eyes locking on yours with a desperate kind of intensity. “I’m not walking out of your life, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Jesus, do you really think so little of me?”

Your lip wobbles, your voice breaking. “You don’t get it. You’ll leave.”

He lets out a laugh. Sharp, exasperated, and a little unhinged. “I’m in love with you, you absolute idiot.”

You freeze. Your brain is refusing to process what he just said. “What?”

“I said I’m in love with you,” he repeats, louder this time, as if yelling the words will hammer them into your skull.

“Have been since the first night, I think. Do you honestly believe I’d fly halfway across the world, lose sleep, and spam you with dog pictures because I don’t love you?”

You stare at him, mouth agape. “You- what?”

“Yes!” he throws his hands up, pacing like he’s been holding this in for years and it’s physically painful to let it out. “God, how do you not see it? I thought I was being so obvious!”

Your brain is scrambling for any coherent thought, but instead, all you manage is: “Then who was that girl?”

Carlos blinks at you, mid-rant. “What girl?”

You fumble for your phone like you’ve been waiting for this exact moment to catch him red-handed.

Opening Instagram with trembling fingers, you shove the screen in his face, pointing at the offending photo. “This girl. The one on the yacht!”

He squints at the screen, then back at you, his brow furrowing.

“That’s my cousin, Marina.”

Your heart stops. “What?”

“My cousin,” he says again, slower this time, as though you might be hard of hearing. “She’s married to a guy named Tomás. I was literally holding her bag while she FaceTimed her kids.”

You gape at him, the ground beneath you threatening to swallow you whole. “Oh.”

Carlos stares at you, his mouth falling open. Then it clicks. “Oh my God. Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t-”

“You were ghosting me because you thought I was on a yacht with my cousin?” he demands, his voice climbing into incredulous territory.

“It looked bad!” you squeak, the heat in your face making it impossible to look him in the eye. “I didn’t know she was your cousin! She was all- touchy!”

“She was showing me pictures of her dog!” he cries, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation.

You clutch your head, feeling both humiliated and mildly hysterical. “I’m an idiot. I’m the biggest idiot alive.”

“No arguments there,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair, then fixing you with a look that’s somewhere between amused and exasperated. “You honestly thought I’d just…what? Post my side chick on Instagram for you to see?”

“I didn’t know what to think!” you snap, burying your face in your hands. “I panicked, okay? My brain spiraled!”

Carlos lets out a disbelieving laugh, pacing a tight circle like he’s trying to figure out how he got here. “So instead of asking me, you just…decided to ignore me? For weeks?”

“I said I panicked!” you groan, peeking at him through your fingers, mortified.

He stares at you for a beat, then pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath in Spanish. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”

Your heart lurches, but you’re still too mortified to fully process it. “You can’t possibly still love me after this.”

“Oh, I can,” he says dryly, crossing his arms. “But I’m definitely telling Marina about this. She’s going to think it’s hilarious.”

“No!” you cry, lunging forward and grabbing his arm. “Carlos, I swear to God, if you tell your cousin-”

He grins, all smug amusement now, his earlier frustration melting away. “I’ll think about keeping it a secret. On one condition.”

“What condition?” you ask warily.

“You stop ghosting me,” he says simply, his voice softening as his eyes meet yours. “And maybe…start trusting me a little more?”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of your own stupidity pressing down on you. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking at the floor. “I really messed this up.”

“Yeah, you did,” he agrees, but there’s no bite to his words. He tilts your chin up so you have no choice but to look at him. “But you can make it up to me. Dinner tomorrow?”

You nod, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.”

“And for the record,” he adds, smirking, “if you ever ghost me again, I’m showing up with a mariachi band.”

You groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs, but you can’t help the warmth spreading through your chest. Somehow, against all odds, he’s still yours.

---

@lilorose25 @widow-cevans @mderby03 @zyklion @papichulomacy @irisesinthegarden @leclercdream @moonvr @ilovemeni @iamdedsthingz @shwnirwin @softhecreator @claimingharrystigertattoo @5sospenguinqueen @wadupppdylan-blog @waytooobsessedwithlife @weekendlusting

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 11

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 11 of 12!

Chapter 11

His sister's screams were bloodcurdling.

Charles had known that birth was a painful, messy affair, that it was never easy, but actually hearing his sister’s very real, very painful screams from the room beyond was a truly eye-opening experience. He didn’t know how women could survive this, frankly.

Arthur looked green around the gills, not helped by the white bandage on his forehead…which apparently had been the result of him fainting and being taken down by the corner of a hospital bed. 

"I am never having kids," Arthur said, swallowing heavily.

"I am rethinking my family planning as well," Lorenzo said weakly. "I don't think I can stand seeing Charlotte go through that pain."

Arthur grimaced as another scream came ringing out from the room. “I think I am scheduling a vasectomy tomorrow,” he said faintly. “This absolutely confirms it as a good life decision for me.”

"I think that's the concussion talking," Charles tried to assure his brother, as another scream rang out.

On second thought…maybe Arthur was onto something.

And just at that moment, Colette's scream suddenly broke off. They froze—all of them.

Absolute silence rang through the room. Charles was afraid to even breathe. He had no idea what was happening on the other side of the door, and that terrified him. Everything had been going well so far, hadn't it?

And then a cry rang out.

A baby’s cry: shrill, a little indignant.

All three men let out their collective breaths in a sigh of pure relief.

The whole room was silent for a moment, as they processed the fact that their sister and her baby were alright.

“Oh, thank god,” Lorenzo said feebly. “I thought something awful had happened.”

“No kidding,” Arthur agreed. He sagged back against the wall behind him, his skin regaining a proper colour again, instead of the sickly green it had been moments before.

Charles leaned his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes for a brief second. It was over. Everything had gone alright. 

Colette and her baby were both going to be okay.

"We are uncles now," Arthur said suddenly.

A beat of surprise. And then:

“Oh god, we are, aren’t we?” Lorenzo said.

“We’re uncles,” Arthur repeated a slightly shell-shocked look on his face.

Charles couldn’t help it. A smile broke out over his face, a very real, utterly ridiculous one that he didn’t have the energy to hold back. “We are, aren’t we?” he repeated Enzo’s words.

“This is absolutely insane!” Arthur said, a grin creeping over his face. “We’re going to be the coolest uncles ever.”

“I thought kids are overrated?” Lorenzo pointed out wryly.

“The most overrated,” Arthur insisted. “But I’m going to spoil our niece or nephew absolutely rotten.”

It took a little while longer, but finally, the door opened, revealing Max. He looked…exhausted. Absolutely beat. There were dark circles under his eyes…but a look of relief was on his face like Charles had never seen on his friend before. And yet, Max was grinning.

Looking happier than ever.

“Max,” Charles said, a little hoarsely. He wanted to ask how they were, he wanted to ask about the baby, he wanted to ask if Coco was alright. But all he could get out was Max’s name, his voice too thick.

"Come meet your niece," Max said simply.

He said the word ‘niece’ like it was the best thing in the world, and it made Charles smile. He straightened up, following Max into the room, Arthur and Lorenzo trailing behind him.

Coco was curled up in her bed, her hair messy, her face pale, but she was smiling, a weak little smile tinged with exhaustion but so very, very happy. And cradled against her chest was the baby, wrapped snugly in a little pink blanket.

Charles just sort of stopped dead in the midst of the room. Seeing his sister with her baby in her arms… it was like his brain had stopped functioning in the space of a moment.

All three brothers were silent for a long moment, just taking in the sight of them.

Charles felt a lump rise in his throat,and swallowed heavily.

Lorenzo was biting his lip, trying to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. And Arthur was absolutely silent, all of the usual sass gone from his expression.

It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, as they all just stood awkwardly at the edge of the bed, just looking.

Finally, Coco looked up at them, and her smile widened faintly. “Well?” she asked. "Cha, don’t you want to hold your niece?"

His heart skipped, and he managed to pull himself forward so he could sit down on the bed next to her. “I get to hold her?” he asked, just to be certain.

"Of course, you do," Coco told him softly. "Here you go."

Charles could hardly believe it as Colette gently eased the baby into his arms, carefully supporting her head. And suddenly he was holding her, his niece, this brand new little life, in all of her tiny, delicate, vulnerable little glory, bundled up in a soft pink blanket.

"She's perfect," he said softly, swallowing. 

She was so��fragile, in his hands. He hadn’t expected her to be that small, somehow. Charles smiled faintly, running his fingers gently over her hair. Her eyes were closed, and one tiny fist was poking out of the blanket.  

"Does she have a name yet?" he asked his sister. 

"I get to pick," Colette told him with a grin. "Given that Max named the cats after Monaco's nightlife."

Charles had to admit that was a fair point.

“What, you aren’t going to let Max name your daughter La Rascasse?” he teased Coco who just rolled her eyes.  "What have you come up with?" he asked curiously, tearing his eyes away from his niece to look at his sister.

"If she was a boy, I would have named him Emilian Hervé after Papa," Colette said softly. "Sadly that doesn't work for a girl."

Charles smiled faintly at the mention of their father. Their father would have doted on this baby, he was certain. He would have spoiled her absolutely rotten.

"So I figured… somebody else needed to give their name for her," Coco continued. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course, I don't mind," Charles assured her at once. Why should he? "Whose name did you use?" he wondered. 

"Yours, you idiot, Cha," Coco told him, her voice soft. "Charlene Victoria Verstappen. We'll call her Charlie for short."

"Oh my god," Max's sister breathed somewhere behind him. "You.."

But Charles could only stare at his sister…could only feel the lump rise in his throat again. He swallowed hard. “You named her after me?” he asked with a waver in his voice, feeling like his heart might just explode in his chest.

"Of course, I did," Colette said softly. "You're my twin brother, why wouldn't I name my baby girl after you?"

Charles couldn't find any words to answer that with. He couldn't find any words at all. His eyes stung, and he couldn't look at her for fear he might cry. He looked down at the baby. His…god, his niece that was named after him.  

He gently ran his fingers over her hair again, marvelling at her tiny, perfect little body. "Hello, Charlie," he said softly, his voice a little choked.

The baby didn't even stir, and Charles smiled, shifting slightly to support her more securely. He couldn't believe that his sister had done this, that she had named her baby girl after him. It made his heart feel like it was fit to burst straight out of his chest, made him try to blink back tears and fail horribly. 

"Congratulations, you've made Charles cry," Lorenzo said from somewhere behind him, sounding a little choked himself.

Charles let out a noise that was half-laughing, half-crying as his brothers joined him at his side. "Shut up," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

"Not a chance," Arthur said as he squeezed in next to him to get a better look at the baby. Lorenzo joined him, peering down at the baby in Charles' arms with a strangely soft expression on his face.

"You gave her my name too," Victoria said weakly. Charles looked up at Max’s sister, not knowing what to say. It had sounded so obvious, so natural to hear Colette say it, that Charles had completely forgotten that Victoria shared the same name.

But she did. 

"A sibling for each of us," Colette said simply. "Sorry, Enzo, Arthur. Maybe next time.”

“Nah, Arthurelle is a horrible name,” Arthur responded. “Totally see why you went for Charlene.” 

Colette laughed, but it was a very weak, exhausted laugh. Charles couldn’t blame her. She must be absolutely wrung out.

And still as he looked at her...as her eyes met his, he could feel how happy his sister. How utterly in love she was with her daughter. How this was everything Colette had ever wanted, and it was right there. 

"I am never driving you to the hospital again though, just so you know," Arthur said. “That cost me at least 30 years of my life.”

"But you did so well," Colette teased their younger brother. "Thank you for that, ma petite puce."

Arthur grimaced faintly, but he looked too tired and happy to actually bite back. Charles smiled faintly at all of them in turn.

Charles‘ eyes snagged on their mother.

"Well, Grand-Mère," he teased her. "How does it feel?"

For a long moment, their mother simply looked at the baby in Charles’ arms with an unreadable expression on her face. And then her expression slowly shifted into a smile. A true smile. A happy, proud Grandma smile.

“Your father would be so proud of you all.” 

[over-usedlittlespoon]

Any time a child gets visibly and audibly excited about something, I just... get it.

"LOOK AT THE SHARK! OH MY GOSH! LOOK! A SHARK!" *frantic jumping up and down*

Y'know what, he'll yeah, little dude. I also wish to express this level of enthusiasm for the shark, but for some reason, when your body grows taller you have to make your emotions smaller.

I think we should all start getting excited again. Maybe throwing tantrums too.

Every time a small child starts crying or having a tantrum in my vicinity and I catch the parents glancing at me I’ve started saying “me when…”.

Friend kept trying to tell his crying kindergartener to calm down and relax and the kid growled “I AM relaxed” while visibly tensing every muscle in his body and I was like “oh that’s me at work every day” and we had a chuckle.

Parents look to other adults like “shit are they mad? Do they think my kid is acting like a demon?” And this response is my attempt to say “no. I think your kid is just acting like a human being.”

I WISH I could fling myself on the ground and cry because I experienced a minor inconvenience.

[boopshoops]

What your favorite TWST character says about you :)

As a note before I begin: I saw one of these that shamed malleus and randomly even chenya enjoyers- (claimed that they were pick mes or something? 😭) so i wanted to make one that was more positive out of spite <3 make it more about the writing and why people appreciate the characters. Take each of these with a grain of salt i spose- also a lot of them share similar themes <3

(Aka fans who have different views or even blatantly incorrect views of characters will always exist everywhere, but insulting the entirety of a group solely for enjoying a character, many for different reasons, is probably not a great idea!

I get that sometimes people suck and thats understandable, but quit generalizing ok? Ok.

From a malleus enjoyer who just thinks hes a silly little guy and im tired of feeling like i have to defend myself bc he's my blorbo 😵‍💫)

Final note: i love unapologetically taking frustration and turning it into something that can make people smile 💕 also i blindly wrote this from 11pm-midnight :))) dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Heartslabyul:

Riddle: you enjoy and/or relate to the idea of healing from the past. Working hard to improve oneself for the ones around you and yourself: creating a healthier environment where you can be happy

Trey: there is immense complexity in things that are seemingly mundane. Digging deeper and deeper to find something truly sweet and heart warming is your joy.

Cater: maybe you relate, or maybe you used to, or maybe parts of the connections made in the past/presence/future dont feel as deep as you truly want them to be. There is something beautiful about a desire for genuine human connection, but also peace in being alone. There is a safe space for you yet, just be patient. 💕

Deuce: you love drive and determination. An endless stubbornness that keeps one going against all odds. Against every person who tells someone they cant. You watch them get proven wrong, and its pure bliss.

Ace: you find the connection between people beyond words heartwarming: even the seemingly simple ones. The ability to have a connection with someone who can get up to some mischief, tease back and forth, yet be there when you need them to be one of the most valuable things.

Savanaclaw:

Leona: Adversity over a lack of belief in oneself is a very difficult thing to overcome- yet it is very possible with the right crowd, the right amount of time, healing, and effort. You think someone's worth lies more than just within their title/job/appearance, but within the fact that they are able to stand back up and keep moving onward despite the odds. The hope for that change, and the ability to get out of bed in the morning on its own is strength.

Ruggie: Despite being through so much trauma at such a young age, recovery happens anyway. Its not perfect, at times the lessons learned are even rough. The survival tactics that once helped are now hard to ditch when theyre not needed anymore, but the ability to smile and joke and keep pushing onwards is something you value in life.

Jack: Self discipline can be both extremely useful as well as harmful in different ways. You find the way people can constantly strive to better themselves at what they love and/or morally to be highly admirable.

Octavinelle:

Azul: People can be cruel. And sometimes that cruelty inspires cruelty. Sometimes its simply used as a way to move on and survive insecurities created from it. Its hard, its a fight, but those insecurities are part of what make people beautiful. They are nothing to be ashamed of, and even the many tactics and smart ways of learning to overcome cruelness can be beautiful too.

Jade: The mind is extremely powerful. Intelligence and knowledge are not the only important things, no. Using that intel to find entertainment in the surrounding world can be exhilarating. Finding and discovering new unknowns: learning their ins and outs until they're a part of you is something you can relate to.

Floyd: speaking of fun- you love what is essentially the written version of a roller coaster. Ups and downs, ins and outs. Every single twist and turn is exhilarating and new. Every different perspective provides new insight into a multitude of different things. You are along for the ride, and you are having a lovely time.

Scarabia:

Jamil: self discovery can be very difficult after purposefully suppressing parts of one's self for a long time. Yet, the healing happens anyway (once again aha <3). People discover new parts of themselves, slowly becoming more comfortable not only with their environment, but how they react to it. The discovery is freedom, and freedom is bliss to you. New traits about oneself bloom like a flower: if not in the soil, then stubbornly in the cracks of cement. You gently take that bloom from the concrete and pot it, placing it gingerly in a beam of sunlight.

Kalim: Happiness isnt only sunshine to the one smiling, but to everyone else around them. It is delightfully infectious. However, happiness isnt a constant. You think emotions all emotions should be experienced rather than suppressed, because holding back sadness for the sake of others is a disservice to one's self. Discovering your own emotions, any range of them, is what makes people uniquely human. If anyone is holding those emotions back- hell, any part of them back, they need to be let out of the cage.

Pomefiore:

Vil: "Beauty is on the inside" is a saying thats been around for a long time, but beauty comes in so many forms. It can come from the stubborn desire to improve one's self: to be kinder, to help those around you, to be good. However it is impossible to be perfect. At times, for some, this can be crushing. People are hurt unintentionally, natural frustration can brew, the wrong actions can be taken: and thats okay. You believe whats important is to pick yourself up and keep going. To err is to be human, and that is beautiful too.

Rook: Error is beautiful. Symmetry is beautiful. Asymmetry is beautiful. A crack in the side walk is beautiful. Small things are beautiful, big things are beautiful. The nurturing of something through endless care is beautiful. The undeniable traits and hobbies of every individual that make them unique are beautiful. You find the endless optimism in finding beauty to be, in itself, beautiful.

Epel: Sometimes people will view others in ways that they wish not to be perceived as. This isnt in our control, as much as we sometimes want it to be. All you can do i be unapologetically yourself. To be you to the utmost degree. To prove those who thought otherwise to be foolish. You find this strength to find value in yourself despite others opinions admirable.

Ignihyde:

Idia: you have depression /j

Ok for real-

Life can be such a cunt. It can beat a person down, down, down and leave them vulnerable enough to fear it. To fear that beating, whenever it may next come. The anxiety of never knowing what or who will come next, or what one could lose. At times it feels more comforting to find a routine in solitude. But you know that the small things that give joy will wiggle their way in with time. The broken will meet people who love and care and find comfort in the companionship of healing, even from the little things: like a new story to read or game to play.

Ortho: You value unconditional support. Support through everything: the good, the bad, the just kind of okay. Knowing that someone can have ones back for every little thing- to be there solely because they care and wish the best for others- is something you look up to and maybe even wish to be for another.

Diasomnia:

Malleus: god damn people can be so hard to read and understand. They are so complicated: they are books you have to pay attention to from start to finish. But once you reach the end, you have a deep seated appreciation for them, and for the ones who stuck around to read your book too. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment: it is a happy moment. As painful as temporary things can be, it is also what you think can make the relationships we love and have loved so valuable.

Lilia: there can be suffering everywhere. There is war. There is famine. But there are also endless new sights to see. New discoveries to be made to help those still going through famine and war. New ways to love and understand people you never thought you'd understand. The development and positive parts of humanity, even though at times it can look bleak, are ever present to you. You love the discovery: of places and of people.

Silver: you believe that there is solace in being your own individual, regardless of who you are bound by blood to. Being shaped my experiences, friends, hardships, and new places are what make a person who they are. You value finding roots in and making your own home.

Sebek: Dedication can be a hard thing to come by, but when it does it can grab someone by the reigns. Using every waking moment to cherish that thing, learn more about it, become better at something, and strive to better ones self can be very admirable to you. But, on the other hand, it also calls for the occasional rest.

OTHER (just for ones I know well enough, sorry!)

Neige: You love kindness despite hardship. One can go through horrible things and still choose to be kind. The world could begin to end, and one could still choose to be kind, because it means everything.

Chenya: Curiosity fuels exploration. It fuels art. It fuels everything. It fuels excitement. It fuels friendships. It fuels medicine. It fuels life. Curiosity is endlessly fun, and you think that is very whimsical

Meleanor: Sacrifice for others can be tragic. Knowing what another person has given up for someone else, maybe even everything, is gut wrenching but undeniably a selfless love to you.

Crewel: There can be kindness in strictness. In teachings, there can be a parental guide. There can be someone who cares for you and undeniably wants you to succeed. They know that you can, so they push you towards it. You want this support.

Trein: Love surpasses time. When the ones we love are gone, the memories of them are still held close, with the love once given to them, we can show to others through advice and guidance that comes with time. You find comfort in that.

Crowley: People are flawed. We all know this, yet despite a persons flaws... however many there may be, there is still something hopeful and human about it. About having those flaws and persisting regardless. You may even like those flaws, and the unashamed desire to press on even with them on display.

Fellow/Ernesto: Live for yourself. This is what you desire. People are often caught up in material or monetary things. After all, we live in a world that required it to survive and even be respected. To throw away those views and simply live as you see fit: regardless as to whether you earn those things or not, is something you admire.

Rollo: Sometimes the attachment we have to those we lost can be painful. Regardless, that pain is proof that there was care and love. The things done for others, whether alive or dead, are done selflessly. Grief can fuel hatred, but it can also be caused by love. To unlearn hatred and learn to love again after the fear of loss is a natural human experience. It is a process you understand and admire those who take the time and strength needed to properly love again.

Thank you for reading <3

Tags <3

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3 @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere

@techno-danger @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @the-trinket-witch @scint1llat3

@beneathsakurashade @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @kathxrat-01

@sillyslipperybananapeel @jadelover69 @tixdixl @twstinginthewind

[mimipolo]

nam-gyu hate fuck? Maybe hes pissed at you because you almost knocked him over in red light green light, and then had the audacity to click x at the vote. So when the lights go out he follows you to the bathroom?

Nam-gyu X reader

(nsfw)

I'll be honest I had no idea what I was doing at first but I swear I had an awakening half way through.

You'd pissed him all the way off now. He could put up with your teasing eyes and the way you managed to still look hot in a crappy tracksuit, even when you had the audacity to nearly knock him off the finish line in the first game . But why would you choose "o"??

His eyes glared daggers into your back as he watched you press "x" confidently as if you'd get away with it.

He'd make sure that wasn't the case.

Votings over and it's ended in a tie, everyone's tense and trying to convince the other to join their side. Amidst all this you slip away to go to the bathroom, he leaves the crowd slowly to follow suit.

You were just shaking off your wet hands when he swings open the bathroom door and casually walks in. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets and wearing an expression that just looks like he's plotting something. Why the hell is he in the woman's bathroom??

Immediately you recognised him as the guy always with Thanos, always just a step behind him ,but just as cunning. The only interaction you had was when his friend had made the odd attempt of hitting on you. But right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

"You went and chose "x" huh?"

You remain quiet, eyes darting around the bathroom as you back away from him but he grasps your arm suddenly making your heart jump.

"You're gonna ignore me now? You gotta mouth, speak."

"What's it matter to you what I chose."

You say through gritted teeth, nervous to speak up to him but also refusing to let him push you around. Your expression sours as he begins to grin wide, like he's pleased with your response and it'd justify what he's about to do.

"Vote "o" next round." He says harshly as he tugs you closer, his body close to yours. He only chuckles when you try to step away, grabbing your other arm to keep you near.

"That a no?" He's tilting his head down towards you, it's almost like he was hoping you'd go against him, you could hear his heartbeat as he eyed you over lustfully.

Unfortunately you had missed the arousal in his hate filled gaze as you spit back a "Hell no", you're being pulled into a bathroom stall before you could even think.

"How bout I convince you to choose "o" yeah? I'm pretty good." His words are smug as he has your back to the colourful stall wall, his hands already fumbling to unzip your tracksuit, kissing loudly at the skin of your neck. The whole situation had your hairs standing up on end, an alarming sense of arousal coursing through you.

A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder has you flinching, a pained gasp escaping your lips as he looks up at you sadistically.

"I bite though, hard. But you'd probably like that, not even sayin' a thing."

"You asshole..."

You're left shocked by his lust coated words, your hands finally moving to grip his own tracksuit in an attempt to get him off but he's unfazed. Sucking and biting into your flesh as his hands reach down to rest on your hips, one sliding down the waistband of your sweats and into your pants.

You jolt violently at the intrusion, eyes widening in shock as you feel your resolve start to crumble. Your hands tightening around his clothes rather than pushing him away, craning your hips forward when cold ringed fingers press against those bundle of nerves. Shivering softly at the sensation, he just laughs at you, pulling down your tracksuit more for better access.

He didn't lie when he said he was good, each swerve of his fingers had you twitching against him, desperate for him to slip just one inside.

"You're wet from just this? Almost making me feel bad... but you've been the one teasing me this whole time."

"You're fucking crazy-" you manage to barely get out between gasps.

His tone still comes off as arrogant but you can hear him becoming breathless from just watching you crumble under his fingers. Two thick digits pushed inside you. Immediately taking him like you'd been hoping.

"Didn't even hav'ta push that much, you been fucking in this shitty place?"

The accusations make you whine softly as you squeeze around him, it's not true but something about the way he says it has you hooked. He was such an asshole, a sleeze and a junkie but you couldn't defend how you were murmuring against his chest for more.

"More? I knew you were just playing hard to get..."

What you didn't expect was for him to flip you on your back, hands roaming up your body to squeeze at the soft flesh as he presses his evident hard on against the curve of your ass.

"You'll never think of leaving after this." He hisses against the shell of your ear stripping himself down to line himself up against you. Before you could argue with him, even lie and say you'd vote "o" this time he's already inching himself inside you, a sharp jolt shooting through your senses. He's huffing and moaning when he bottoms out, not wasting a moment as he's already moving, making sure you take all of him as he pulls your hips back.

He's surprisingly slow, almost affectionately so. But his words are vulgar and degrading, his hands harshly grabbing anywhere they wished. Your arms are braced against the walls and your eyes squeezed shut with ecstasy as he softly reshapes you. It was like he was making sure you knew and remembered what he was doing to you.

You're honestly convinced he's louder than you, your voices filling the air as you take him. Eventually he gets desperate, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster and his dirty words only getting whinier "such a slut", "just keep taking it."

Your stomach drops when you hear the bathroom door open, he's quick to silence you. Placing a firm hand over your mouth as his other hand reaches between your legs again to press roughly against your sensitive bud. He's biting his own lip to keep quiet as his hips shudder and he spills everything he's got in you, painting your walls thickly with his cum. He's murmuring and panting against your shoulder about how good you took him before slipping out of you.

He snickers quietly watching you almost fold when he releases his hold on you, pulling up your pants and sweats and sitting you down on the toilet seat.

"I trust you know what to vote, I'll come remind ya if you forget." He whispers as leans down to grin dazily at you, his eyes scanning your fucked out expression. Clearly happy with his work he kisses your cheek deceptively sweetly, before leaving the stall. You hear him wash his hands and whistle softly as he walks away, the creak of the bathroom door signalling his exit.

What the hell was that about...

[just-a-ghost00]

Who is your future spouse?

I'll be trying to get significant details about your spouse using 3 different decks. I'm not asking any specific question about looks or personality but rather just letting spirit guide us towards any detail they deem worthy of our attention. As this is a general reading, you may not resonate with every single detail but the general picture or overall vibe may speak to you to some level. For once, I decided to do 4 groups instead of 3.

Group 1

"I see grace and possibility in all of life's challenges." "There's no such thing as mistakes. Everything happens in divine order. I am being guided to learn and grow." "I accept the gifts I've been given as a high service to the world."

White Numen tarot : Queen of cups, 5 of swords, The Fool, knight of pentacles, 6 of cups

I don't care oracle : Take care of yourself, Close your curtains close your eyes sleep, Got a drink? Cheers! , Box with the pillow

Starting with the image you picked, I'm getting a strong message of using music and art in general as a form of escapism but also a mean of harmless self expression. Your FS may be struggling with a sense of loneliness that they are fighting off through a strong interest in any form of artistic expression. The bunny makes me think of innocence and creativity. The fact that it's a plushy makes me think of childhood and frailty. This passion that they have is something that stems from childhood and that has allowed them to hold on through hard times. I can't help but to be reminded of Stray Kids Lee Know when I look at this image. So maybe your FS has a similar personality or background to Lee Know's. Your FS could be a Kpop enthusiast. They could be an artist or enjoy doing art as their hobby. They are a rather sensitive and soft individual. They have a very comforting presence. There's a sadness to them that feels a little bittersweet.

They've been through a lot, not only romantic wise but also just on a personal level. Despite everything they've been through, they still have a lot of faith in the Universe and in mankind. With time, they've chosen to see their struggles as opportunities for growth and to cherish every experience that they get to live, even though some of them are uncomfortable because they're aware that in everything lies a blessing in disguise. They are very spiritual and they have a strong mindset gained through years of pain and struggle. They're an old soul and chances are that they have a lot of interesting stories to tell about their past.

Speaking of the past, you may share several past lives with this person. If you don't believe in this concept, you just may feel like you've known this person before when you've just barely met because they are so genuine and empathetic that it feels like they know you at your very core. For some of you, they could be a childhood friend. This person could also work with children or just be very popular with babies and kids. Another thing I am picking up on is that though this person is very mature and has gone through a lot, they look very innocent and youthful. Many people underestimate this person's age because of how childlike they may appear physically. Like, their skin is very soft and supple, they have no grey hair nor do they have wrinkles, they may be quite petite compared to other people of their age.

They've struggled with their mental health quite a lot. They're constantly thinking and bickering with their own self. They may be neurodivergent or struggle with a form of mental disorder. Another thing is that they have a very striking effect on people because they're hard to grasp. Their personality and the way they show up is so unique that they can't be categorized, "put into a box". This person just takes pride in not fitting, not conforming to any standard or norm. They don't like to be trapped in outdated perceptions of life and society. They are very protective of their freedom of expression. So chances are they have a very particular sense of style, a very specific way of expressing themselves in public, a particular posture that makes them stand out from other people. Like for example, they're the only person in their family that doesn't conform to gender norms. Actually I feel like the notion of gender isn't relevent to this person. However, they appear as quite feminine in their energy.

One thing that is very striking about them is how detached about material life they are. They do not care about possessions, wealth. This person is very generous and humble. They could give away their own clothes on a whim just to help someone else, buy a random person a meal just for the sake of making a good deed. They do random acts of kindness, not just with people they know but with anyone they come across. They give to charities, they leave food on the street for the homeless or for stray animals,they share important information on their socials in case it may be useful to someone. They're just really selfless. The reason behind that is because this person comes from a rather "poor" background. They know what it's like to be lacking something and they believe that any good deed done will come back to them. They have this mentality of not doing to others what they wouldn't appreciate themselves. So they're definitely not the kind to look down on other people or to hate on others.

This generosity can also be shown in their emotions and how they express themselves. They do not shy away from telling people they love them. They are very demonstrative and openly communicate their feelings, even though it makes them vulnerable. They wear their heart on their sleeve. They're incapable of lying. In connections, this person pours their heart out and they give their all. They're incredibly loving, kind, compassionate and patient. They show a lot of empathy and understanding towards others but they tend to be extremely harsh on themselves.

They struggle with a lot of anger issues as well as overthinking. They tend to burn themselves out thinking and worrying about others, helping other people to the detriment of their own health. They're in desperate need of love and rest and they have a hard time slowing down to focus on themselves. This person is not used to receiving and giving themselves the love that they willingly and selflessly give to others.

They're a cat lover. They may or may not own a pet cat. They have a cat like personality. They're more of an introvert but they tend to put on an extrovert façade to please others, especially their family and friends.

This person can be quite easily sociable with people however there aren't many people that they feel close to. In social settings, they tend to stay aside and only interact with the crowd here and there, out of politeness. They may struggle with the feeling of not belonging. They may feel like they do not fit in because of their unique sense of self and their strong morals. Again, I get strong neurodivergent vibes from this person but I also get a theme of cultural differences. This person may have grown in an environment where only a specific demographic was represented and they were the only source of diversity. Now that could mean all kinds of things but to give you an example maybe they grew up in a city where most people had fair skin and they were the only child with a different skin color. Or like maybe when they were a kid they were the only boy/girl when all the other kids were of the opposite biological sex.

Speaking of cultural differences, at the beginning of your reading, I had the impression that they lived in a different country than yours and that feeling is further confirmed with the spread. They could possibly have a similar background to yours but the only difference is that they grew up in a different setting. Like for instance, imagine two people that are both of European descent but one of them grew up in Spain while the other spent on the other side of the globe for some reason. Another thing I was picking up on was two people being born from two different ethnicities. So I feel like you and your future spouse will have a lot in common in the sense that you may have been through similar hardships in your life though you come from completely different areas of the globe. You could bond over things like : being the "black sheep" of the family, being the "generational curse breaker", being the "weird child" or the "rebellious child", being bullied in school because of your looks/sexual preferences/culture/religion or any form of difference that made you stand out, feeling like you don't belong, wanting to be someone else or somewhere else, feeling like you're not from this planet, having a weird interest in astrology and space facts, believing in ghosts and/or UFOs.

Group 2

"I communicate with ease and grace. People are willing to embrace what I have to say." "I welcome healthy, loving relationships." "I celebrate my progress. Awareness, not perfection, is the goal."

White Numen tarot : The Magician, 8 of wands, Queen of cups, King of wands, Ace of cups

I don't care oracle : Sorry not sorry, Spread the love, Yes! , Smile smile more even more!, You are not your emotions

This person is very chatty and an excellent communicator. They have a very eloquent speech and a beautiful voice that may be envied by many. They enjoy singing and whistling. They can easily talk anyone through anything. They have a bit of a snake charmer vibe. They're a smooth talker and many times got out of trouble because of that. They have a fascination for birds and/or their nickname revolves around a bird. I'm thinking of Woody Woodpecker, Tweety, Daffy and Donald Duck, Zazu, Iago. Like either that or they are named after a bird or compared to a specific bird. Specifically, there are peacock feathers depicted on the relationships card from the Spirit Junkie oracle. So peacocks could be relevant to this connection somehow. Either they get compared to a peacock because they tend to show off around potential partners or because they have a really flamboyant nature and attidude. They also could be compared to parots or phoenix.

This person exudes a lot of masculine energy. They may be depicted by other people as a playboy/playgirl, as a macho if they're perceived as a man or if they're perceived as a woman their feminism may not be well perceived by their peers. I feel like they get a lot of backlash from others and get wrongly accused of being so many things because of how unapologetically themselves they are. This person has a lot of self confidence and they have strong values. They draw a lot of attention but also a lot of envy and jealousy. They may be in the public eye.

They are extremely harsh with themselves and have perfectionist tendencies. They're a workaholic. They're extremely prideful and take a lot of pride in their accomplishments, especially on a professional level. They are the type to never regret a choice they make, even though people do not share their opinion on the matter because once they've set their mind on something it is very hard for them to change their perspective. They are incredibly stubborn but also incredibly resilient.

They are very popular and sociable, however they just don't let anybody in their close circle. This person has strong boundaries and they do not hold their tongue. They've put themselves in trouble more times than they can count because of their blunt approach. People around them may say that they are haughty or that they have no respect for their elders, that they do not take criticism well or that they are full of themselves. But the truth is this person is just very protective of their own space and they were raised in a background that taught them to always speak their mind when something doesn't feel right. They cannot stand injustice and you can be sure that this person will always stand up for what is right, no matter their differences with the people involved.

They have climbed the ladders of society through their hard work. They "came from nothing" and "became somebody" because of how dedicated they were to their craft. This earned them a lot of respect but also a lot of advantages and money. This person is now wealthy and leaving very comfortably but this wasn't the case when they were a child. They became so succesful that they may now be their own boss. They earned enough money to be able to open their own business or work independantly. If this person is an artist for instance, they fund their own work with their own money. They may own their own label or they're just a solo artist because they've gained enough of an audience and enough resources to be able to do so. This is just one example among many. They could be working freelance on different projects or own a brand of some sort. It could be anything really. If not that, then they have a higher status within their work environment compared to when they started.

For most of you, I feel like your FS is older than you. There's a stark contrast between you not only because of your age but also because of your maturity and life experience. I feel like you would be very intimidated by this person at first but also, because of everything I mentioned before, you may start off with a bad impression of them because of how other people depict them or gossip you may have heard. You could start off as rivals or "ennemies" so to speak. Also, I get the feeling that when you first meet them, you will think that they are disinterested in you or that they don't like you.

Despite their intimidating façade, this person is actually incredibly kind and loving. They are very sweet and sensitive, but they don't show that aspect of themselves to a lot of people. They have huge trust issues and they struggle with intimacy. They are hyper independant and they tend to repress their emotions, especially their sadness, through humor. They're the type of person that will act like a clown and make jokes to distract themselves and others from the fact that they are not okay. If you talk with this person and start to get deep by bringing up intimate subjects, they are likely to swiftly change the subject or disguise the truth by joking around. They may exagerate certain traits to make themselves appear stronger or cooler and take away the vulnerable aspects of the story. Let's say this person got into a fight and was hurt in the process. Maybe the true reason why they got into this fight was because they were drunk after breaking up with their past lover and a person's attitude didn't sit right with them in that specific setting. When they tell you the story, they may omit the fact they were at their lowest and emphasize how brave they were to stand up and interfere because a person twice their size was bothering another customer. That kind of thing.

This person has a problem with expressing their feminine side and showing emotion. They do not talk about themselves much or if they do, they always make sure it isn't too personal. They tend to mask a lot of their pain, a lot of their fears. They hide behind a mask to cover up for the fact that they are in truth really sensitive and insecure about themselves. I get the message that this person struggles with their feminine side because of a masculine figure in their life. Growing up, they were taught that they shouldn't cry or let people see their "weakness". They were taught that showing affection wasn't safe. They were criticized for their soft nature and had to become tougher with time to be able to make it through. Again, I get a neurodivergent vibe from this person, which is similar to group 1. Maybe you felt drawn to that group as well.

They are very passionate and invested in whatever is going on around them. I feel like they are very active political wise and that ties down to their issues with injustice. This person either does a lot of community work or advocates for a lot of causes. They may use their influence and means of communication to raise awareness around certain subjects. I'm specifically picking up on mental health issues and struggles surrounding one's body image, speaking up against racism, bullying, sexual harassment at work. They have a lot of love to give and a sensitive side to them that they don't get to express very often but when they are in such setting that is when they can truly be themselves and wear their heart on their sleeve. You may see this person's gaze light up when they talk about subjects that interest them, things that are dear to their heart. I see this person doing a lot of random acts of kindness but on the lowkey. Things that would go unnoticed or that wouldn't seem that grand but that actually matters. Like putting flowers on someone's grave even though they didn't know them as a proof that someone cares about their passing. Leaving anonymous positive notes in books that they borrow from the library so that the next person is comforted and knows that they matter. Silently watching over children on the streets to ensure that they are safe and no one bothers them. Taking away an object that may be a source of danger for others. Giving away personal belongings by living them in random spots for other people to find them. Pretending like they're clumsy to get two people that like each other to be physically closer in the hopes that it will get things started.

I feel like this person's main love language is acts of services but sometimes they may also express their love in funny/quirky ways or unusual ways. Here are some specific things I am picking up on : making a list of all the things you like so that they know what to do when you feel down or how to surprise you on a specific event, using your go-to words or catch phrases on you to make you smile or laugh, taking interest in the things you like and trying them out to the point of being very specific about it and knowing every detail of it so you don't feel like you're alone and they can better understand you even if it makes them uncomfortable, including you in the things they do by leaving very specific tasks up to you even though they are perfectly capable of doing it on their own because they know it makes you happy, anticipating your needs in ways you wouldn't expect by keeping certain tools or products in close vicinity just in case, mimicking your stance/ your walking pace or any trait that you may be feeling insecure about so that you feel less insecure about it, making sure that you are not being left out during any social interaction and bringing the focus back to you in case you were interupted, countering your every self criticism with a reason why that exact thing is actually a good thing, expressing their opinion of you and how they feel for you in indirect ways by talking about things you remind them of (characters in movies, songs, things that are meaningful to them like a loved one for instance).

Looking at the picture you picked, I get the message that this person values beauty and the aesthetic of things and people. They give a lot of importance to appearances. They could be into home decor and interior design. They could also be into fashion. They may collect a lot of objects because of their aspect. Especially statues, paintings, traditional objects from different countries, floral ornaments. They like scented candles and incense. There is a specific flower that this person likes or they could have been named after a flower. Or they could be born on Flower Day (May 20), Rose Day (February 7), Valentine's Day (February 14), Yellow rose day (May 14 in Korea). Or overall as most flowers bloom during Spring, this season may be their favorite or may have some significance to your connection. I'm not sure what the flower on the picture is, but its shape and color reminded me of blue Hydrangeas.

Group 3

"I release my need to be right. I am defenseless and at peace." "When I lead from a place of love people respect me." " I bring peace wherever I go." White Numen Tarot : Magician, queen of wands, Judgement, Sun, 3 of swords

I don't care oracle : Close your curtains close your eyes sleep, Stop doing so much, Infinity x Infinity , I'm not okay, I am always a child

This person loves animals. They are very popular with animals. They may want to own a pet but they may be allergic to pet fur or they just don't have the opportunity to have one because of their lifestyle. They can both embody a cat like and a puppy like energy. They are very balanced and can both embody feminine and masculine energy very well because they've done a lot of shadow work.

They grew up in an abusive household and/or have dealt with a lot of abuse in their life. This lead them to becoming "mature" too soon for their age. They had to parent themselves and now as an adult they may be described as immature by others because they didn't have the opportunity to do what other children usually do growing up. They had to deal with many responsibilities very early on in their life, either because their parents didn't show up the way they should have or because they left home pretty early on for various reasons. Because of that, they have a hard time letting go of the need to control and asking for help.

One of the ways this person copes with whatever issues they have is by being active. They have a lot of various interests and they look like they never rest. This person's schedule is packed and timed perfectly. They always got something to do, someone to talk to, something to work on. They may struggle with insomnia. One of the reasons why they keep themselves so busy is to cover up for the fact that they feel lonely and scared on their own.

This person looks for meaningful and deep connections. When they feel comfortable with people, they can rant for days about the things that they like and be very quirky but if they do not have a good impression of you they'll remain as cold as an iceberg and you'll never get to see their depth. One of the ways you will be able to tell that your FS likes you is that they will act differently depending on whether they're with you or someone else. They'll do things with you that they wouldn't do with others. Show you sides of themselves that no one has seen. This person including you in their bubble will be a huge sign of their affection and trust. Especially, you meeting their family will be a huge thing because I feel like no one has gotten that opportunity before.

They are very confident in themselves, especially when it comes to their work and studies. They can ace anything you leave up to them as long as they know they've got your trust and things are explicit. However, if they feel like you're being shady or that you doubt them, this person's productivity will be affected dramatically. They struggle with impostor syndrom. They're also very quick to judge characters and they tend to have a strong intuition. So whenever this person tells you that they have a bad feeling about something, they are likely to be right.

They do not realize it bu they hold more power than they think and they are more popular than what they expect. This person is so humble that it would never cross their mind to put themselves forward and talk about their accomplishments. This is because of their upbringing. This person was lead to believe that they were not important and that no matter their achievements or efforts, they would never be enough to be taken seriously. Honestly this person has been through so much in their life that it's a miracle they still find the drive to carry on with a smile on their face. They are incredibly strong and admirable but they would never think that of themselves. They are their own worst enemy and critic. They don't like to be the center of attention but no matter what they do they just cannot escape it.

I feel like right away in your connection, you will intuitively feel very drawn to this person and very early on realize that they are your FS. Their will be something about their eyes that will immediately spark your interest. And everytime you will look into this person's eyes, you will not be able to hold their gaze because of the intensity of what you feel when looking at them. This may be something that they tease you about later on in your connection. I also pick up on a setting or an action that is unusual when you meet them. There will be something that will set you off about this person or maybe you will do something that they are not used to. And that will be the spark that ignites the whole thing. The reason I am saying that is because on the "I am always a child" card, the character depicted is walking barefoot on the street and one of their foot is in the mud. They are very neetly dressed and yet, without a care in the world, they are risking getting all dirty and being laughed at. It looks a bit out of place or out of the ordinary. Here are some things I am picking up on that maybe will speak to you : being the only person that didn't follow the dresscode at a party, walking up the stairs with a bunch of heavy grocery bags when you could have used the elevator, being the only person in the gym that sings to their workout playlist and gets hyped up while everyone else is just quietly sweating it out, being the only person that dares to talk back to the other or makes a comment about a specific touchy subject, being the only person to actually be educated about a specific topic that they're interested into while the others just have a surface level understanding of it, not showing them any sign of interest when other people are desperately trying to get their attention.

Looking at the picture you chose, this person could live by an important body of water. This could also be a sign that they are a very emotional individual. They may be into water sports like surfing, swimming, scuba diving. They could enjoy fishing. They may eat a lot of sea food. When travelling, they may prefer warm places such as islands over the country side or places like mountains. They may prefer Summer over other seasons.

Group 4

"My high vibe thoughts create health in my body, peace in my mind and love in my heart." "Let me be still today and listen to the truth in silence." "The more I honor my inner light the more I brighten the world. I choose to shine."

White Numen tarot : King of wands, 9 of wands, 7 of wands, knight of pentacles, 5 of pentacles

Sorry not sorry, Turn your tongue 7 times in your mouth before you speak, I've got super powers, Tomorrow is another day, Don't be fooled by my appearance my soul is resplendent

Based on your picture, the first thing I pick up on is that you may firstly interact with this person at a distance, either being penpals or through social media/dating apps. The picture also gives me a feeling of nostalgia. This may be someone that you reconnect with after a long time being a part. Daisies is the birth flower of people born in April. So it could be your or their birth month, or you could meet during this month. This person could be a childhood friend or your relationship could start of as friends and evolve into something more over time. I also can't help but to think of Disney's Daisy and Princess Daisy from the Mario lore. So your person gives off a very innocent vibe upon first glance but they turn out to be stronger and smarter than they appear. Though people may think of them as superficial, frail or shallow they are actually have a lot more depth and are very sensitive. This person may tend to be underestimated or overlooked, people may wrongly assume their character because of the way they look. Which feels a bit similar to group 2's person's energy so maybe you felt drawn to that group as well.

Your FS is a very spiritual person and they developped that spirituality through hardships and adversity. They possibly dealt with bullying as a child. This person was lead to believe that they didn't deserve affection, care, help. They spent most of their life being on their own and having to protect themselves because the adults around them where not creating a safe space for them. They have huge trust issues and are hyper independent. They do not know how to ask for help and do everything by themselves. They're the type of person that wants to be recognized solely for their skills and hard work. If someone were to help them or gift them something, they would think that they are not worthy of it because they haven't worked for it or earned it. Their notion of value is distorted because of the way they were raised as a child.

They are originally a very bright and cheerful person but life turned them into a bitter and cold person. Many times in their life, they were shown aspects of humanity that made them lose faith and hope. They were constantly lied to, disregarded, manipulated. People abused their kindness and generosity, treated them badly under the disguise of friendship or love. This person grew to believe that love wasn't meant for them. So when you meet them, they'll likely avoid you and run away from you at first. They'll have a hard time believing that your feelings for them are genuine and they may keep you at arms length for quite a while.

They fear intimacy. This will show in their distate for physical touch and public displays of affection. In their constant need for space and independance, for control within the relationship. Ironically, though they need a lot of space and free range of action, they will show a lot of possessiveness and jealousy especially if you are separated. This connection really gives me ennemies to lovers vibe. They will hate to love you and love to hate you. The beginning stages of your relationship may be quite rocky because of this person's fears and issues. However, because they will be very attached to you and protective over you they will understand the need for them to heal those aspects of their personality for you connection to be healthy and lasting. This is also because they have a strong sense of responsibility and want to be perceived in a good light by their loved ones.

This person is very charismatic and sensual. Chances are that a lot of eyes will be on them and a lot of people will want to pursue them, even while you are dating. They face a lot of envy and jealousy generally speaking but they will face even more adversity once they are with you. Which could interfere in your connection. There will be a lot of gossip about you, especially career wise. People in their work sphere specifically will not understand why your dynamic is working when you seem so different from one another. This will stem mostly from a lack mindset. Even their family could get involved in the drama. Since this person is very popular and likely succesful in their work, people may say things like you could be a threat to their reputation or question your motives for dating this person.

Even though their attraction for you will be very clear and obvious, this person will do everything in their power to ignore it and resist the pull to the point where it may look completely crazy to you and ridiculous. You may think "why is such a mature person acting in such a childish way, this is so unlike them". They'll make choices and actions that you will not understand and could attempt to sabotage the connection. But the more they will try to run away from you the closer they're gonna get because the Universe will not be having any of their BS and you won't either. Every time they will try to ignore or avoid you, they will be reminded of you or forced to face you in some type of way. This person could be trying to flirt with other people to forget about you, they may even straight up date another person thinking that you would disappear from their life. But the people they will interact with will be very similar to you or coincidentally they will be in your circle. If this person is working in a similar occupation, circumstances will have them working with you. They could choose to move out in a new location thinking they would avoid you but it turns out that you frequently go to that place because a family member lives nearby or your doctor's office is located in the same street. If you are a parent, maybe their kid goes to the same school as yours. And so on and so forth. Every time they turn on the radio, they'll hear songs that remind them of you. They'll see or hear your name quite often or will be confronted with something you like every day.

Specifically, I pick up that this person could be a coffee addict but maybe the way they like their coffee is very different to yours and this may be something you passionately debated on. They also have a thing for plants and flowers. They wear glasses or they have a bad eyesight. You could have "argued" about being too blunt and not knowing how to read the room. I don't know why I keep writing in past tense. Maybe for some of you that's a confirmation you already know this person. If that isn't your case, maybe this will be something that happens later on in your connection. I really get the feeling that something about this person will just get on your nerves when you first meet. Like the way they talk or how they dress. Maybe the setting in which you meet will give you a wrong impression of this person. Especially if a lot of people are badmouthing them and spreading false rumors about them.

This person is a loner. They spend most of their time alone, either at work or in their personal life. They are very guarded and introverted. They barely leave their home unless it's very important. They may have a fear of crowds and enclosed spaces. However, when they are able to trust someone they are very kind and giving, a total opposite of what people may depict them as. They have a very healing presence that stems from all the hardships they faced over time. This person uses their own experience to help people heal and expand. They could be a therapist, a reiki practitioner, someone that uses alternative medicine like herbology, crystal healing and such.

They have a lot on their plate. They struggle with mental health issues and it isn't something they openly talk about with anyone. However, if this person sees someone going through hardships, they will be the first one to reach out and provide help and support. This person believes in the law of attraction and also in fate. They know when to pay attention to the details which could also explain why they are so succesful in life but people may not see that side of them and just belive that your FS has it easy because of their wealth, their background, their looks. When in reality, this person is the most hardworking individual you'll ever know. And when you get to see that side of them, you will really admire and respect them.

[randum-famdoms]

Something I have seen people complain about is when the story “stops” for a character to mentally think about their feelings regarding something.

I think that’s bullshit.

Like, okay. Think about it. How fast is your train of thought? Faster than your reading speed, right? Do your thoughts all happen in neat little sentences, or as more of a nebulous and/or choppy half-formed thing that *you* understand, but would sound like nonsense on a page?

Also, the character probably isn’t actually taking as long to think these things as you are reading it. “Character A feels xyz about this” isn’t taking ten seconds to actually happen, feelings coexist with action!

Now, there is a time and place for introspection. It is my personal philosophy to have the amount of introspection reflect the pacing of a scene. Fast battle scenes will be far more action-heavy and introspection-light compared to, say, a calm breakfast.

I think it balances the annoyance over pages of introspection completely breaking the flow of an intense section of the story (at least, from the perspective of the reader), while still maintaining some of that wonderful interiority (which is actually a new word for me, and I adore it).

I’m the first to admit that I am far from an experienced or professional author. I don’t have a professional editor, and my only education is via Highschool and middle school classes (and while I was always in the advanced classes, a few even college level, they were still restricted by being part of the American education system). I definitely can think of times where my grasp on the interiority slipped. Especially when it comes to describing things that wouldn’t necessarily be noticed by the pov character, simply because I as the author do know about it and think it’s funny or important.

I’d imagine a good rule of thumb regarding this would be to treat it like dialogue. People always say to read your dialogue out loud to notice any problems. Well, just act out the scene as though you are the pov character. Not necessarily irl, but in your head. (And maybe even irl if you can manage it, it can’t hurt!) What way are you facing? Would you be able to see that annoying dog? Would you focus on the person you are talking to’s face, or their hands? Is this activity one that you would space out during, or does it require laser focus?

Basically, all the things you would not think about if you imagine the scene like a movie as you are writing.

Picturing the scene as a movie can be helpful, particularly for things like imagery. But it does have its shortcomings, as op said.

It can work thematically for some stories, but when it comes to most writing that is not third person omniscient, it’s definitely something that can cause the reader to feel… distant, I guess. Less immersed.

It’s also something that, sadly, many writers will have to teach themselves and seek out to learn, because, as OP said, it’s becoming harder to find in modern works. This is doubly so do people who mainly read non-published works. I will sing the praises of fanfiction until the day that I die, and maybe even after, but the fact of the matter is that 99% of fanfiction authors are self taught. They may not know how to incorporate interiority. They may not even have ever read a work that had it.

I know a lot of people say that you should read the “classics”, and you may be thinking that could help here, but I for one am a fierce defender of not putting up requirements to be considered a writer, and that includes required reading. Yes it can help you learn skills, but so can more modern works. I learned a lot from reading Percy Jackson, and other lesser known books, and none of them are considered classics on par with The Great Gatsby or Shakespeare.

Instead, I propose this: if you want to get a better grasp on writing with interiority, try actually consciously focusing on your day to day life for a little while every day. Focus on your train of thought, on the things you focus on, on the things you see.

If you want to read something, great! Ask for recommendations, go to your local library and flip through books until you find one you think you will both enjoy and which has a good grasp of the concept.

First and foremost, however, in any writing, is to remember how we as humans actually live and interact with the world, and you’ve got a primary source of research at all times: yourself. Exclusively using other texts as sources will only ever end in a very broken game of telephone.

A lot of fiction these days reads as if—as I saw Peter Raleigh put it the other day, and as I’ve discussed it before—the author is trying to describe a video playing in their mind. Often there is little or no interiority. Scenes play out in “real time” without summary. First-person POV stories describe things the character can’t see, but a distant camera could. There’s an overemphasis on characters’ outfits and facial expressions, including my personal pet peeve: the “reaction shot round-up” in which we get a description of every character’s reaction to something as if a camera was cutting between sitcom actors.

When I talk with other creative writing professors, we all seem to agree that interiority is disappearing. Even in first-person POV stories, younger writers often skip describing their character’s hopes, dreams, fears, thoughts, memories, or reactions. This trend is hardly limited to young writers though. I was speaking to an editor yesterday who agreed interiority has largely vanished from commercial fiction, and I think you increasingly notice its absence even in works shelved as “literary fiction.” When interiority does appear on the page, it is often brief and redundant with the dialogue and action. All of this is a great shame. Interiority is perhaps the prime example of an advantage prose as a medium holds over other artforms.

fascinated by this article, "Turning Off the TV in Your Mind," about the influences of visual narratives on writing prose narratives. i def notice the two things i excerpted above in fanfic, which i guess makes even more sense as most of the fic i read is for tv and film. i will also be thinking about its discussion of time in prose - i think that's something i often struggle with and i will try to be more conscious of the differences between screen and page next time i'm writing.

[suiana]

yandere peacock x humming bird darling? :3

dont know about the humming birdbut i can DEFINITELY do peaCOCK yandere

in a world of demihumans, male peacocks are known for their bright and vibrant feathers. it is said that these feathers are usef to scare predators away and to attract any potential mates. however, in a society where looks are becoming more of the main focus, male peacocks have started to just use their flamboyant feathers to appear, well, more flamboyant. especially that one, your neighbour.

he's a flamboyant man, that's for sure.

he moved in next door and you haven't really saw him much. that was, until, he heard your singing and went 'holy crap, you're a beautiful singer'. well actually, you don't know if he said that. but he only started showing interest in you after you caught him standing outside the door to your karaoke room.

conveniently enough, that was when he started showcasing his... army of feathers, passing by your door several times as other neighbours complained about him blocking up the whole damn hallway. you live in a tiny apartment complex after all. that meant tiny hallways and little to no space to walk if someone decided to spread his feathers and pace up and down a certain door.

you don't know what to do except tell him you're not interested repeatedly. because let's be honest, do you really think this guy is gonna leave even after you reject him? he's just going to come back for seconds and say that he's simply showing his feathers because they're beautiful! not because he wants to woo you...

that definitely didn't happen already. yup, definitely not.

"𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼..."

"good morning."

a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you lock your front door like you always do. lately though, you think that your door might be broken. it's always open whenever you return from your job. did you not lock it tightly enough? also for some reason there's always a hint of expensive floral fragance in the air. were you hallucinating? maybe a neighbour just bought some flowers?

well whatever, you'll just get a locksmith to see to your lock soon. maybe this weekend? as for the floral scent, it's no big deal. the scent is rather pleasant so you don't mind.

"heading to work, beautiful?"

you nod your head. yeah... another day of work at your boring job. you're really wasting your potential as a hummingbird demihuman. you could've been a famous singer by now!

orrrr... maybe not. you'd lose all your privacy if you became famous. no way in hell did you want that.

"be careful my pretty, i heard there's been a ton of accidents on the road these days. wouldn't want my neighbour to get hurt now, huh?"

oh how considera-

and there he was, flashing his damned feathers at you as a mysterious sparkle flashes around him. this... this stupid golden light that seemed to shine down on him, illuminating his godly sculpted features even more.

what a damn adonis.

no, he's more like narcissus. always admiring his beauty. you swear you've caught him staring at himself in a mirror store before while out shopping. that was one hell of a time.

you deadpan at him for a moment, just staring as he strikes pose after pose, body carefully twisted in such a way that would show off not only his feathers, but also his slender body. he's gorgeous, you have to admit that.

"have a good day neighbour."

"𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰- wait what? you're leaving already?"

your peacock neighbour deflates IMMEDIATELY, lips turning down into a pout as his feathers grow soft, falling down behind him. do his feathers act like a dick? you've always wondered that. they get hard and erect and soft sometimes. maybe you should ask him that someday.

"yeah, i have work dude. i'll be late if i stall any longer."

you waste not a single second before leaving him behind to pout childishly as a dark aura envelops him. you swear you even heard him mutter something about showing your boss who's in charge. what a weirdo. how would he even know who your boss is? dumbass.

what a weirdo your neighbour is, am i right fellas? definitely don't want him as your secret stalker, that's for sure! haha!

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ bad liar ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @gothic-rat112 (lost the ask...) ˚₊ ⊹

ft. seong gi-hun x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ how he is when jealous & insecure┊1.2k words 

setting: season 1 contains: age gap relationship (unspecified but legal obviously), insecurity & jealousy, he’s a little immature & broke as hell but it’s okay i love pathetic men, reader is a sweetheart, this is all over the place omfg

➤ author's note: okay i kinda went on a tangent, first season because i miss his stupid smile and his fluffy hair (also look at how cute he is in this gif omfg i love him sm, i need to write for him more, underrated in his own show, THE PUPPY EYES)

╰₊✧ honestly, gi-hun isn’t so much as jealous as he is insecure. sure, he has an outgoing personality and always makes you laugh without fail, but he can’t think of any other positive traits aside from that. he doesn’t think of himself as particularly attractive with his scruffy appearance, and he’s painfully aware that he’s lacking when it comes to finances and has a gambling problem to boot. on top of all that, he was a divorced middle-aged man who didn’t even have joint custody of his only daughter and still lived with his mom rent-free, a terrible husband, father, and son— he’s truthfully the type of man people avoid when dating.

╰₊✧ yet he still managed to pull a pretty young thing like you who looks past all that, not sure if you were stupid or desperate. during the first few weeks of being together, he made jokes about still being able to date younger women in his old age because he was still in disbelief it was happening, but when you stuck by his side through all his flaws and the first year passed with you supporting him to get better, insecurity hit him like a ton of bricks when he realized that he was genuinely in love with you and that he didn’t have what it took to be the boyfriend you deserved when he wasn’t even someone his biological family deserved. 

╰₊✧ he sees other people buying their girls jewelry and clothing from name-brand stores, taking them out to eat in luxury restaurants with multiple courses, driving them around in european cars, and he’s out here saving money to do something as little as cake for your anniversary. he’s always on cloud nine when he spends time with you, but there’s something so humbling about looking up “broke date ideas” and scraping together what he already has to make it more special. no matter how much things like that don’t matter to you with the mindset of the intention counting more than the price, he still feels shitty about having you pay for most of the things you do together when he’s the man and the older one in the relationship along with the fact that you were barely better off than he was. 

walks around to admire the sights: especially during holiday seasons when there are pretty lights, you like holding his hand and admiring the sights of the city you often take for granted. if the streets are empty then he doesn’t mind it, but he does get self-conscious about the looks you both get so it’s not super common.

candlelit dinners of takeout and beer: a regular one, gi-hun likes to gather a bunch of candles to make the place look a little more romantic, maybe even having some roses to make it look nicer. the man doesn’t cook much though, so you’ll just have replated takeout with bottles of beer, but he always makes it lively with conversation and puts effort into fixing his hair to look more handsome.

and anything else he can think of, he can be really creative when it comes to you and you’re pleasantly surprised each time.

╰₊✧ these things bother him a lot more than he will let on, but he tries to stay all smiles around you which you see right through like glass. he’s a bad liar, a trait he would always get in trouble for when he was a child since he couldn’t lie about his antics.

╰₊✧ he feels awful when he finds that you also entered these games to pay off your respective debts, because no matter how much you try to convince him you aren’t, he knows that you intended to use any extra money to help him out as well with his debt being higher than yours. it should be the other way around, he should be the one helping you, and when the first shots are fired during “red light, green light,” he makes you swear that you won’t come back.

╰₊✧ of course, you do come back, because while he is your boyfriend, you’re also a grown-ass woman who can do what she pleases (also because you’re desperate and prefer not to find out what those loan sharks would do to you if it took too long to pay them back, and you might as well go to support gi-hun because you know his ass went back).

╰₊✧ he feels a little bit better about himself seeing all of the other people in a similar position as him, drowning in debt and petrified of death. he tries to be protective over you, but let’s be honest, you’re the protective one who mothers him, and since the constant threat of death is always looming, he lets you do it even if it looks stupid. people are either judgemental or jealous, but there are bigger things to worry about.

“people are staring…” he muttered, his eyes darting around to meet theirs and watching as they looked away the second eye contact was made. “you don’t need to do this, you know, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“i don’t care, let them stare,” you stated simply, rubbing into the back of his shoulders with practiced circular motions. “they are just jealous that they don’t have a cute girlfriend to take care of them like you do, and i want to! your muscles are so tense— i don’t want you participating in the next games when you aren’t in the best shape. we could die any day here, i want to give you all the love i can!”

╰₊✧ jealous of sang-woo with his intelligence and emotional security. even if both of them are wearing the same teal tracksuit, his childhood friend was in here because of failed investments which sounded a lot better than just losing constant bets in gambling dens. (to be fair, if you were gi-hun’s controversially young girlfriend, i don’t think either of you would get along well as he probably looks down on you and you probably find him stuck up, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being stolen away by him). not really jealous of that block-head deok-su hitting on you, after the little altercation they had on the first day, more annoyed than anything but the feeling quickly vanishes when he sees you reject him with a roll of your eyes. 

╰₊✧ actually jealous of anyone your age paying attention to you, especially ali who has a really sweet personality and gets along with you really well, maybe even sae-byeok who has a pretty face and is decently nice once you get to know her. 

“you need to stop pouting.”

“‘m not pouting…”

“you’re a bad liar, you know that? but it’s so cute,” you exclaimed, reaching out to pinch his cheeks childishly. “you don’t need to be jealous of ali, he’s already married and has a kid.”

“i know, i know…”

“i don’t think you do.”

╰₊✧ it’s so obvious when he’s jealous, it’s actually painful. he stares holes into the head of the person talking to you and is pouty until you address it. he’ll also blush when you call him out and tease him about it, it’s so cute. please give him assurance, pinch his cheeks, ruffle his fluffy hair, and give him lots of kisses, he deserves it.

(author is slightly delirious with a fever, i took medicine dw, i just really wanna kiss gihun)

[enkays-den]

Enkay Watches the Imp and Skizz Podcast #127 (featuring @joehills)

First of all, if you are not watching Joe Hills on either youtube or twitch, DO IT!!!! He's streaming pretty much every day and the conversations are always so interesting and he has the best little windows into the workings of Hermitcraft. Folks will pop by and have super interesting conversations with him! He's one of my favorite hermits and I think his unique way of experiencing minecraft, life, and hermitcraft is something that deserves more eyes on it, because I know people are sleeping on him.

First off, THIS is how you show up to the Imp and Skizz Podcast! Classy, on brand, and unique!

I love Impulse's little nest of pillows, he's so cozy nestled in there, holding his mandated amount of water like a security blanket

I love that the reason they wanted Joe on was to talk about the coup SPOILERS: they never even touch on it

joe's dad being a logician makes so much sense tbh

"a creationist universe where god wants you dead and i play minecraft like a greek hero idiot" is such an amazing way to talk about super hostile maps

HOW IS IT THAT JOE AND SKIZZ BOTH HAVE EDGAR ALLEN POE ANECDOTES OFF THE DOME

Joe having his wedding taking place during the recess of a vehicular manslaughter trial feels so strange and yet so Joe

JOE HILLS FULL NAME DROP?????

"YOU'VE GOTTA BE JOE KING" okay he mentioned on stream that there was a joke that maybe two people would get and I will proudly claim to be one of the two.

"fighting to become an artist" is so validating to Skizz's journey so far. It's gonna be his year anniversary of being a hermit soon and im gonna get emotional about his path this last year

Joe WOULD put on the Scottish Parliament sessions as background noise, love that

"I don't trust any platform with my art. I'm the one that makes the art and the audience is the one that appreciates my art" "I need to be as platform/brand agnostic as possible" "next time Amazon does something terrible to the unions" 👏👏👏

CHEERS REFERENCE, SKIZZ'S SITCOM BRAIN IS ACTIVATED

talking about his streams like a bar and like,,,,, he's so smart about the role of creators and fandom and i just appreciate joe so much

it's funny that they're shocked about the relationships can be formed within fandoms when like,,,,, that's how they met tango

((also if we talk regularly and read this i love you guys <3))

skizz, the worst chat reader ever i love you

i need hermitcraft standup. please. custom texture snowballs as tomatoes or flowers to throw

thinking about a younger skizz using a tape recorder to record his 'genius ideas' and quotes he likes and annoying the crap out of his friends

YES JOE AND SKIZZ TALKING ABOUT THE SCIENCE OF COMEDY AND THE STRUCTURE, THEY'RE SUCH AN INTELLECTUAL DUO

I'm glad that we got to hear Joe's JFK impression

COURT CASE TALK!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Bdubs will only let Doc win if it's funnier for doc to win, because that's how guilty doc was"

Joe quoting Sun Tsu and then going on the stand and said "Your Honor, Your Highness, my client is a baby" in an asymetric star trek dress, that's the Joe Hills Difference

"DELICIOUS" skizz i love how schadenfreude you are

"FIVE DIAMONDS PER F TIER BOOK???" impulse my favorite wet cat

"I'll make one sale every two months" and also implying that the shopping district has property taxes

the delivery on "two. some people say four" was SLICK

TUMBLR MCYT SEXYMAN POLL MENTION

"tumblr defines sexyman to mean 'most bizarre, cryptid, creepy thing' " not wrong there.

"well scar is obviously going to win the sexyman competition"

"once i found out that it's for weird, cryptid energy, I knew "oh nevermind I'm gonna win this"

joe hills is my favorite weird guy and he deserved to win

cleo as our nonbinary icon placing third place in the tumblr sexyman poll

All in all, fantastic podcast, and not long enough imo. I hope Joe gets to be there in person one day like he originally envisioned, and there's just an untapped well of information that could go into future podcasts

Reminder that you should subscribe and follow Joe!

BONUS, edited by me, please credit if you use it, I HIGHLY ENCOURAGE you to use it (original screencap under cut):

[jarofstyles]

Benefits

Hi lovebugs! This can be read as a standalone, but this is a 3 parter. The first part will be put up here but the next two are Patreon exclusives if you’re interested. (Part two is up now) I hope you guys love it.

Check out our Patreon for part two and 220+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.6k

Warnings- Asshole-ish H, smut, slight degrading, oral, slight possessiverry, etc

She knew he was watching.

A subtle smirk played on her lips as she helped herself to a drink in the kitchen, nearly able to feel the man’s eyes on her as he traced her dress. One she wore just for him, but would never admit to. He wasn’t good about hiding how much he watched her, how much he had been curious about her, but he hadn’t talked much to her. Only stared.

She'd been warned that Harry was a man of few words. He didn't go out of his way to talk, he was the stereotype of tall, dark, handsome and dangerous-but it's exactly what she's been craving. Twisting the lid back onto the mixer, she finally raised the cup to her lips as she turned around to face him. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was watching her. His eyes didn't stray. He liked that she didn't waver in her staring back, too. Y/N could tell.

It had been a long time since a man had properly excited her. She wasn’t exactly the easiest to please, if she was being honest. Y/N got bored easily, she liked to play games, to test people to see if they could handle her- but something about Harry had her fully understanding that he could handle her, no problem. Maybe it was just the look in his eyes that told her he was intrigued by her but also wanted to eat her alive, but she quite liked it.

Her eyes flirted with his, as she slowly took a sip, her throat bobbing delicately. "I think you're enjoying the view." Her voice was sultry, a taunt. She was baiting him, daring him to respond, to engage. The game of cat and mouse had been fun, but she wanted to be caught. "You're not very good at hiding it."

“M’not trying to hide it.” His raspy voice made her internally peek up. She’d only heard it a handful of times but each one had nearly had her purring. The man had the voice of her wet dreams, and she sort of hated how he was checking off boxes she had purposely put too high.

A small smirk played on her lips as she set the cup down, her hands moving to rest on the counter. She leaned forward, her arms stretching out in front of her, very aware she was very generously handing over a view of her chest for him to glaze over. "Is that so?" She asked, matching his tone. "You're just going to stand there and stare at me then?" The challenge was laid out softly, despite the tension in the room.

“Mm. I was enjoying the view.” His body was leaned against the cabinets of the kitchen, no shame at all in admitting the fact. “Think y’like when I look.”

Her eyes traveled up his face and met his eyes, a slow blink the only reaction to his words. She liked it, damn it. She liked being the focus of his attention, even if he wasn't saying anything particularly sweet or romantic. There was something about his blunt honesty that drew her in. "And what if I told you I don't like it?" She asked, her voice a gentle purr. "What would you do then?"

“I’d tell you t’stop looking like that and maybe we could come to an agreement.” His eyes kept contact with no issue, challenging her back. “I know you’ve been looking back at me when y’think I’m not going to notice.”

God, he was hot. It was infuriating, really. Men weren’t supposed to effect her like this. She’d always had the upper hand, but this one had her wavering as she reached up to twist a strand of her hair around her finger. "And what kind of agreement would that be?" She asked with a soft tilt to her voice. She loved the way he spoke, the way his accent rolled off his tongue. It was so…different to the general population of men she was used to. Some could accuse her of being excited over having a new flavor at her fingertips, but Y/N would argue that anyone who got a few moments alone with him would feel that level of excitement prickle their nerves. "One where I stop looking at you and you start talking to me?" The girl suggested, the small smirk playing on her lips growing.

“Perhaps.” Crossing his arms, he stood up off the counter and slowly sauntered over to her. “Was tryin’ to figure you out. Don’t get new additions in the group often, and you’re different than the people we’re usually around.” His tall form had her lifting her head a bit to keep his eyes as he stopped in front of her.

 She’d been right. He was taller than she’d thought, and broader. The man had kept a physical distance before, but now she was feeling the effects of him dropping that barrier. He was just so…large. And it made her feel small, which was a feeling she rarely experienced. "And what have you figured out?" She asked softly, tilting her head to the side as her eyes fluttered to his lips briefly before meeting his eyes again.

“I’ve figured out a couple of things.” Taking another step forward he gave her the chance to move if she wanted- but she didn’t. Backing against the counter, she didn’t shy away from him. “Mostly that you’re a little bit bratty, but you aren’t fake. You’ve been mostly nice t’everyone.” It had been a relief. Harry wouldn’t have been shy about calling her out on ulterior motives, but he only knew of one- and it had come after she’d already met everyone. “And you want me t’fuck you.”

She swallowed hard, her heart in her throat as he took another step forward. Again, she could have moved, but she didn't. Instead, she stayed put, her back against the counter as she met his gaze. His words were blunt, and she liked that about him. Most people would sugarcoat things, but not him. "And what if I do?" She asked, her voice faltering slightly for the first time in a long time. It was so different, but...She liked it. He had managed to get her to feel something different. Naturally making her feel a little more submissive when she had been so used to taking in the opposite role. 

“I’d fuck you.” Harry rose a shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to do it since I met you. Had to figure out if you were someone who was going to stick around.” The tension was thick between them. “I don’t usually fuck people just once. Don't like to think with my dick. But I think you’d want it more than once.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the heat pooling between her legs at his words. She’d known he wanted her by the way he had looked at her body, but hearing him say it out loud had her insides quivering. He was so…crude and it was so hot. "I’d want it more than once." She admitted breathlessly. She wasn’t one to shy away from the fact. "And how many times do you think it would be?"

“I’m not in the business of letting you nut off and fuck off. If m’fucking you, you’ll be in my bed for hours. I don’t go easy.” It was the truth she needed to hear. Harry wasn’t one to half ass sex, and considering he’d been letting the want fester for a bit now, he had plenty of things he wanted to do for her. “Is that something you can handle?”

Her throat was dry, her voice hoarse as she responded, "Hours? That sounds...nice." She wanted to tell him that she could handle anything he threw at her, but she knew he'd only call her bluff. She'd never had a man talk to her like this before when she had confidence he could actually back up the claims, and it was exciting. Y/N wanted to know what else he'd say, what else he'd do. "And if I can't? What happens then?"

“Then I’ll walk away and let you continue your night. M’not going to do any of that if it isn’t what you can take, or isn’t what you want.” He made no effort to move, though, because he already knew what her answer is going to be. “You’re not gonna make it weird for everyone else in the group after we fuck, yeah? You’ll be able to behave yourself whenever we go out for the stupid dinners and drinks?”

She swallowed hard, his words making her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. The way he was talking to her, the intensity in his eyes, it was all so new and thrilling. "I can handle anything you give me." She said softly, her voice filled with a confidence she didn't quite feel but wanted to project. "And I can behave myself. I'm not some teenager who's going to go running to the group about this."

“Just got t’be sure, Cherry.” Lifting a finger up towards her bottom lip, he smeared the lipstick with his thumb before pulling it back. “You don’t seem to be the kiss and tell type, but you never know.”

Her eyes fluttered closed briefly as his thumb brushed against her bottom lip, again the action so simple yet so hot. A little invasive- in a good way. She couldn't help but part her lips slightly, inviting him to touch her more. "I'm not. And besides, who would I tell?" She asked softly.

“That’s the right answer.” He sighed, taking a second to look over his shoulder and back to her face. “C’mon then. M’not fucking you here. Don’t want you to have to keep quiet. If I’m fucking you, I want to hear you.” Curling his hand around the back of her neck, he brought her out the back door. “S’a short walk.”

——-

He had a nice house. Smaller, with a porch and garage. Newly painted, lawn maintained and a little tree in the front. It wasn’t the bachelor pad she had expected, but she really didn’t know that much about him- did she? That was becoming more apparent the longer she spent near him. 

“C’mon. Inside.” He unlocked the door and ushered her in, relieving them from the chill of the night. “Shouldn’t go out without a jacket next time.” The grumble seemed to make her laugh as he tossed his keys into the bowl, kicking his shoes haphazardly on the mat. She hadn’t expected to go on a stroll, so she had left the jacket in her car- but he didn’t really care about that. “Do you want a drink? Or do you just want to get into it?”

Her eyes scanned the cozy interior of his home, taking her even further by surprise. No, it wasn’t the bachelor pad at all. It was tidy and clean, with a few personal touches that gave her a glimpse into what was probably his actual personality. She noticed a guitar in the corner, a few books on a shelf, and a framed photo on the mantle that she couldn’t quite make out. “Huh?” The place had warmth she hadn’t expected to see, and the distraction was evident as she vaguely heard him ask something.

“Do you want me t’get you a drink, or do you want me to get to fucking you?”

Her attention snapped back to him, his words making her blush. Honestly? She really did love how blunt he could be, no sugarcoating or beating around the bush. It was so common to have people be coy about what they wanted, but then again Harry wasn’t anything close to most people she had met.  "Oh, um, I think I'll go with the second option," Her words came out slightly shy, with a hesitant smile. She looked around the room again, taking in the details, before her gaze landed back on him. "But first, can I ask you something?"

“Yeah.” He grunted, taking a step into her space and putting his hands on her waist as he backed her further into the home. “Make it quick. Dick’s fucking aching.”

Her breath hitched as he moved closer, his hands on her waist making her feel small and delicate. She licked her lips, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she asked, "It’s just…Why me? You've barely said two words to me before tonight. And now...here we are." She trailed off, nibbling her lip. A nervous tell.

“Because I was trying t’see if you were someone that was going to stick around.” He said bluntly. “Lots of people pop in and back out. Didn’t know if you’d be one of the floaters. Got to watch you and see how you were before I talked to you. I wanted to see what you’d say.” While some could call it a little creepy, he’d more so put it as educating himself for the best result. “Wasn’t sure you’d be okay with me fucking you. Some people can’t handle me or how I talk. You’re a sweet little thing but I can tell you like some of the nasty shit. So we’d most likely get along.”

She blinked at him, processing his blunt words. A small, almost imperceptible shiver ran through her body at his assessment. He had been watching her, evaluating her...and apparently found her worthy of letting her see a whole different side of him. Y/N hadn’t pushed her luck in regard to asking about him but she figured there wasn’t much people would say anyways. It was obvious to her through her own observations that he had been quiet about a lot on purpose. Considering there were a few people in the group that did indeed find him incredibly attractive, it was more than exciting that he had chosen her- mirrored her own quiet interest. The thought sent a thrill down her spine. 

"I...I appreciate your thoroughness," she said, a slight tremor in her voice, though trying to still appear confident in the way she had tried to portray. It wasn’t an act- she really was like that- but Harry had that little edge to him that made her want to soften up. "And you're right, I can handle you. I like a man who knows what he wants."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “And what do you want, specifically?” Her voice was low, almost breathy as she looked up at him. “With me?” His words had given her a lot to think about. The way he had evaluated her, the way he had found her worthy all while barely knowing her, and the way he had so bluntly admitted that he wanted her around for more than just a one-night stand. But she wanted to hear it all.

“I want to have an arrangement between the two of us. Told you, m’not someone who fucks people once. Not sure if m’looking for a relationship, but I want to like the person I’m fucking.” It was convinent for a release, having an understanding. “We’ve obviously got physical chemistry, find each other attractive and have the same friends. I think…” He leaned his face closer to hers. “We should be friends that fuck. Often.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze locked onto his. "Friends with benefits," she clarified softly. "No strings attached, but...exclusivity?" She wanted to know that she was the only one he was sleeping with, even if they weren't in a traditional relationship. "And we can still hang out with our mutual friends, just...without them knowing the details?" She bit her lip, considering the proposition.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me, I don’t have the time to find other people to fuck. Work a lot, and I’ve got particular taste. I don’t want to worry about you fucking around either. Too much shit goes around. Eventually I’d like to ditch the condoms.” He shrugged, firmly gripping her waist to pick her up and set her on the hallway table. “It’ll be nice. You can just… Call me when you need to be fucked. I’ll call you. Scratch the itch. The rest don’t have to know a thing.”

She let out a soft sigh as he set her on the table, her arms wrapping around his neck as he towered over her. "Alright," she agreed, her heart racing at the thought of being exclusive with him. "Just you and me, no strings, no other people involved." She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. "And...no labels either, right? We're just friends who fuck, nothing more."

“Right. As long as you know that cunt’s mine to fuck for now, I’m happy.” He chuckled under his breath, nudging her thighs apart. “You wore this dress for me, didn’t you?” Fingers dragged up her inner thigh as he questioned her. “Cause you wanted my attention.”

She let her legs fall open, her breath hitching as he nudged her thighs apart. Her heart fluttered at his words, her insides clenching at the possessiveness in his voice. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew she had. When the confirmation that he had been coming had been dropped in the group text, she had taken getting ready a bit more seriously. Though she hadn’t expected this to be the outcome. Not in the slightest. "Yes, it was for you," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper as he touched her thigh. "I hoped you’d like it.” She squirmed, her legs spreading further. "Did you?

“Decided to take you home, didn’t I?” Shaking his head, he let out a sigh as he watched her squirm. “Course I fuckin’ liked it. But you’ve been taunting me, and you weren’t subtle about it either. Figured I had to ask you now.” Ghosting his fingertips along the hem of her panties, he tangled his other hand in the ends of her hair to tug her head back. “Could tell you were starting to get a little desperate.”

She moaned softly as he pulled her head back, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before locking onto his again. "Well, you were staring at me like you wanted to eat me alive," she retorted, her voice breathy. "So...yeah, maybe I was getting a little desperate." She bit her lip, shifting her hips forward. "So, are you going to touch me now?"

His touch was gentle, almost torturously so, as he ran his fingertips over the damp fabric. His eyes were locked onto hers, watching her reactions intently. "You're so eager. Though m’not so sure I like the sass. I’ll do as I like, and you can tell me how good it feels." he murmured, his thumb pressing down on her through the thin material. "I bet you're dripping, aren't you?" His touch grew firmer, ever so slowly rubbing his thumb over her clit.

Her breath hitched, her hips bucking forward to meet his touch. She hadn’t been sure how he would be in this sort of scenario, but it was better than she imagined. It took a special sort of man to make her feel even the slightest bit submissive and she almost melting. "Y-yes," she stammered, her voice slightly shaky. It was embarrassing how wet she got for him before he’d even touched her. "I'm...I'm soaking for you." Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as her head fell back against the wall.

She could feel his touch like a brand through the thin fabric, her legs spreading wider to grant him better access. Her breath came in short gasps, her chest heaving with each breath. "Please," she whimpered, her hips moving in rhythm with his touch. "It's not enough..."

“Greedy.” He laughed through his nose. “I was curious how you’d be once I got my hands on you. You talk a big game, like t’be a tease… but in reality, you’re a desperate little slut, hm?” It was the most he’s ever spoken to her, but she couldn’t complain when his words went straight to her cunt.

"I can’t help it! You started it.” She gasped as he found a rhythm, her body tensing as his fingers tugged the panties to the side, slipping under the fabric. "Oh god…” She moaned, her body tensing as his calloused fingertips grazed her bare flesh.  His words made her squirm, her body trembling as he slid a long, thick finger inside her.

“I didn’t start anything.” His voice was contained, even as he spoke with the smug little smirk on his face. “I told you, I needed t’figure you out. I hoped you’d be like this…” Looking down to where his hand was hidden between her legs, slowly pushing his finger in and out of her sopping wet cunt, he licked over his bottom lip. “Desperate. Melt at the slightest touch. You rejected everyone who came up to you at the bars when they wanted to take you home but you love t’flirt. You knew they wouldn’t be able to give you what you needed- so you waited for me to move in.”

"Mmmm…” She let out a moan as he slipped another finger inside her. "They can’t handle me. They want to try but I don’t want someone to try- I want them to do it.” she whimpered, rocking her hips into his hand. "You’re wrong, you did start it.” She gasped out, her back arching as he crooked his fingers to graze against that sweet spot inside her. "You walked in and you...you just stared at me like you owned me.”

“Because I did.” He leaned forward, letting their lips brush. “And now I do. This wet little cunt is mine to fuck for now. Got all slick before I had even laid my hands on you, fucking filthy.” He sneered. “Listen to that.” The sound of his fingers fucking into her were audible beneath her pants.

The squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of her quivering hole echoed through the room, a lewd melody that grew louder with each thrust. Her own wetness made his digits glisten, the sound of her coating his skin becoming embarrassingly audible. Every push into her tight hole was met with a wet slap of his palm over her clit, punctuated by her short breaths and gasps.

"It is your fault!" She hissed, her voice strained as she tried to keep quiet. "You kept staring at me like…like you wanted to devour me. It's not fair!" Her hips jerked forward as he increased the pace, her hand flying to his shoulders to steady herself. "You're gonna make me come like this." She hissed, her nails digging into his shirt.

“Then cum.” He taunted. “If it’s all my fault that your desperate pussy got all sloppy and wet, cum on my fingers and show me that then. Barely even touched you and you’re clenching all around my fingers.”

Her breath hitched, her face flushing with heat. "Oh god, shut up..." She hissed, her hips bucking against his hand as he curled his fingers inside her, getting the spot she couldn’t get on her own. "H-Harry… Fuck." She let out a high-pitched cry as she finally shattered, her inner muscles tightening around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Her body trembled as the intense pressure building inside her finally broke. Her inner walls clamped down around his fingers, squeezing them as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. The lewd sounds of his digits moving in and out of her drenched opening grew louder as she writhed against his hand, soaking his skin. Without thinking, she buried her face against his neck, muffling her whimpers as the peak of her climax washed over her.

"There y’go. Filthy girl, making a mess of my hand.” He coaxed, slowing his fingers down but rubbing right against the spongy spot in her cunt to make it last. “That’s what you needed, wasn’t it?”

"Mmm, yes." She mumbled against his neck, her breath hitching as aftershocks wracked her body. "Please...please no more..." She whimpered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she clung to him, boneless and spent. "It's too much." Her voice was soft, vulnerable.

“I think you can take more.” He said with a laugh, but pulled his fingers out anyway. “But since m’nice, I’ll give you a second. I’ll go easy on you since it’s the first time we’re fucking, but next time m’not stopping. You’ll keep cumming.” Harry had plenty of plans for her, she had no clue how much he’d been planning on this. “C’mon.” Scooping her up easily, he had her wrap her legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders as he carried her through the house.

"You’re insufferable.” She muttered, her head nuzzling against his neck as her body trembled in the aftermath of her release. She let out a soft squeak as he easily picked her up, her face flushed as she hid it. "Where are we going?” She asked, her voice soft. "I can walk, you know...” Y/N trailed off, her face flushing. "I’m not light, either.”

“Shut the fuck up with that. M’holding you, and m’not struggling.” He grunted, giving her ass a swat as he kicked open the door to his bedroom. “Bringing you to my room. Since your cunt needs a second, figured it’s nicer on your knees if you’re kneeling on my carpet t’suck me off.” The bluntness showed its head again as he felt her pull her face from his neck. “Been thinking about you getting that lipstick you keep wearin’ all over my cock.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing darker. "Oh...” She trailed off, licking her lips unconsciously as her gaze lowered to his crotch. "You mean like this?” She asked, her voice soft and sultry as she slid down his body to land on her feet. She slowly sank to her knees, her hands resting on his thighs. "Maybe I will, maybe I won’t..."

“I think you will. You’ve been gagging for it.” His hands grabbed the buckle of his belt as she looked up at him on her knees, the picture absolutely perfect. “You look awfully good there. Think you were made to be on your knees for me.” Depositing the leather onto the floor, he reached for her face and let his thumb smear her cherry red lipstick. “Go on. Undo my trousers, take my cock out. Know it’s what y’want. Don’t have to play coy with me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as he smeared her lipstick, her tongue darting out to lick at her lips. "Mmm, you think so?” She cooed, her hands moving to his fly. She deftly undid the button and zipper, her slender fingers pushing the fabric down his hips. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the bulge in his boxers, her voice low. "Maybe…” Her breath hitched as she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric. "Maybe I'll take your cock out and give it a little kiss first," she whispered, her hands gripping the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down to help his cock out.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips once more. His cock was thick, the head flushed a ruddy red. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, feeling the heat radiating from him. "So big and hard for me." she purred, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. Brushing her tongue around the sensitive tip, she smeared the precum that had leaked out. Looking up at him, she felt the thrill in her stomach as his eyes darkened with lust as he watched her. She opened her mouth, slowly lathing her tongue lick up and down his shaft from base to tip.

“There y’go.” He breathed, gathering her hair in a loose excuse for a ponytail. The red had transferred some to his cock and he loved the vision. He’d thought about it more times than he could count. “One day, think I should film this. Let you see how pretty you look on your knees.” He murmured, watching as her tongue ran back over the slit. “Get it wet.”

Humming in approval at his words, her tongue continuing to lap at his length, eyes fluttered closed as she felt his hand tighten in her hair. “I would like that.” Continuing to lick him, her tongue traced the ridges and veins of his cock before she looked up at him, wrapping her lips around the tip.

“Good.” He grunted as he felt the plushness of her lips take the head of him into her mouth, the slow pull of the suction. “Take a little more. Know you’ve been thinking about sucking this cock. Show me.”

As he spoke, she listened, taking more of him into her mouth. Unfortunately, she was not as immune to him as she had tried to be. It seemed she had met her match, wanting to please him in ways she usually scoffed at with any other man. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head up and down, doing the work she needed to make him pleased. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in time with her mouth as she looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her throat working around his thickness.

“Oh, fuck.” He laughed deeply, head tilting back as she showed him what he had asked for. “Thatta’ girl. Knew you had it in you. Shit.” He cursed under his breath as the heat of her mouth welcomed him, taking him much better than he had anticipated.

She could feel his hands in her hair, guiding her pace, making sure she was taking him just right. The salty taste of his precum mixed with the musky scent of his arousal was intoxicating, making her head spin. She looked up at him, her lips stretched around his girth, and saw the raw desire in his eyes. It only fueled her own hunger, making her suck him even harder, desperate to please him.

Y/N moaned around his cock as he bottomed out in her throat, the vibrations traveling up his shaft. Her nose pressed against his pelvis as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting to make him hiss. She held herself there, savoring the feeling of being so completely filled by him before slowly pulling back to catch her breath. Strings of saliva connected her lips to his spit-shined cock.

His face contorted with pleasure as she deep-throated him, a guttural groan escaping his lips. "God, you're so good at that." Harry praised, his hands fisting her hair tighter. His hips bucked forward, meeting her bobbing head, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room. His breathing grew heavier, chests heaving as he struggled to maintain control. "You’re gonna be a lot of fun to fuck, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” With a messy pop, she pulled his cock out of her mouth, saliva dripping from his glistening tip. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with lust, before leaning forward and spitting directly onto his cock. The mess hit him dripping over the side, making him hiss in surprise. Rubbing her saliva into his cock, she coated him in it as she smirked up. Getting him to react was a reward. He had barely said anything to anyone, and she was the one getting him to groan and hiss. Sue her for feeling a little special. “Think it’s wet enough?” She purred, coy as she looked at him through his lashes.

Before she could say another word, Harry grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, his mouth crashing against hers in a searing kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips, making her moan in surprise. Was he good at everything? She could taste herself on him, the salty sweetness of her saliva mixing with the heat of his own mouth. Biting down on her lower lip, he pulled it gently between his teeth before letting go.

 "You talk too much."

Her breath hitched as he spoke against her mouth, his voice low and commanding. She could only manage a whimper in response, her knees growing weak. He took advantage of her parted lips and weakened stance, slipping his hands around to squeeze her ass, pulling her flush against him so she could feel him against her tummy. "But you're right," he murmured, voice roughened by desire. "You've made quite a mess. Think you’re ready to take my cock?"

She nodded eagerly, her eyes locked onto his intense gaze. "Then turn around and bend over the bed," he ordered, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. She quickly complied, feeling a rush of cool air against her bare backside as she leaned forward, gripping the bed sheets tightly. 

As she leaned her chest further into the bed, she felt the soft fabric of the comforter against her breasts, her hard nipples grazing against it. Every sensation felt a little overwhelming, but in a good way. It had been a long time coming considering how she had tried to navigate how to work up how to simply talk to Harry, and now he was her supposed friends with benefits. Patience was wearing thin.  Swaying her ass enticingly, wanting to give him a good show- make him break. The room was filled with the sound of her shallow breathing, her chest heaving as she tried to regulate her breathing. Behind her, she could hear the crinkle of plastic as he sheathed himself in a condom.

She could imagine how Harry must look right now, his dark eyes fixed on her ass as he prepared himself. The thought sent her reeling. If only she had eyes on the back of her head. Feeling him step close, his body heat radiating off of himself and into her bare skin, she lifted her hips slightly, trying to guide his cock to press against her soaked entrance.

Harry's strong hands gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements and controlling the pace. control- he was exercising the control that she clearly did not have. She felt the tip of his prick slowly push against her, inch by agonizing inch. Gasping, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets as she stretched to accommodate his size. The sensation was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but she welcomed it nonetheless, pushing back against him to encourage him to continue. "Oh, fucks sake.” She sulked into the mattress.

,"It’s not fair. You can’t.. You’re not supposed t’have such a big dick when you act like one.”  Her words came out in a string of stuttered moans as he seated himself fully inside her, his hips flush against her ass. He gave a low, satisfied chuckle, his body tensing as he held himself deep inside her.  She felt her insides clench around him, her body instinctively trying to adjust to his size. “Oh, no? You don’t like it?”

She shook her head vehemently, biting her lip as she felt him throb inside her. "N-no, I love it. I fucking love it." She admitted breathlessly, her voice thick with need. "It's just not...fair that you get to have such a perfect cock and you waited so long to give it to me." She punctuated her words with a roll of her hips, relishing the drag of his thick length against her walls.

Her insides felt like a silken vice around him, pulsating rhythmically as if trying to milk him despite him not being inside her long enough to do so.  Her body was already betraying her as her walls quivered around him, her inner muscles fluttering as if trying to entice him to move, to draw him in deeper. Her body was warm, and she was tight, gripping him as if she hadn’t been with anyone in years.

A smug grin spread across his face as he let out a low, satisfied groan from deep within his chest. “Well, m’sorry, babe. Had t’make sure you’d be a good fit for my cock. I think I made the right call, though. Tight little thing, squeezing me the way I like.” He taunted, his voice laced with amusement. His hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he slowly began to move within her. "You like how I fill you up?" He punctuated his words with slow, measured thrusts, his voice growing hoarser as she clenched around him.

When she struggled to answer, he let out a laugh instead. He continued to speak for her, his voice a low, husky rumble as he slowly pumped into her. "Yeah, y’like being stuffed full of my cock. Like how it stretches you open and makes you feel so fucking small." He teased, his fingers digging into her hips as he picked up his pace slightly. "Barely able to talk back to me when I know you love to run that filthy mouth. Must be because you’re not used to being filled like this.”

She mewled, her hips rolling to meet his thrusts. He was right. Embarrassingly so. The wet squelch of his cock plunging in and out of her filled the room, mixing with the erotic symphony of their moans and groans. He could feel her getting more slick, her arousal coating his shaft and dripping down onto his balls. "That's it, take it deep like that. You like to play tough, but you just want t’be a good girl for me. Isn’t that right?"

Her response was a strangled cry, her pussy fluttering around him as if to agree. He grunted in approval, his hips snapping forward to fill her again. "Good girl," he praised darkly. "You're doing so well. Such a good little thing, taking me so well. Now answer me.” The croon was soft, a direct opposite to his pace. “Gonna let me fuck you when I want, mm? Gonna call me when y’need it too?”

She keened, her voice echoing in the room. "Y-Yes please... I- I'll call you. I'll be good. I'll... I'll let you. I'll let you whenever you want!" Her words came out disjointed, broken up by his thrusts growing a bit harder, jostling her where she laid. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white as she tried to keep herself grounded.

"That’s a good fuckin’ girl. You're gonna be so well-behaved for me, aren't you?" He cooed, his voice a soothing contrast to the growing brutal pace of his hips. One hand slid up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades to keep her arched as he took his pleasure from her. "You're mine t’play with now, understand? This pretty little cunt belongs to me." As he continued to pound into her, she felt a sense of contentment wash over her. This was exactly what she needed - someone to take control, to make her feel desired and owned. And Harry was perfect for the job. They were going to be lovely friends, with many benefits. As she teetered on the edge of her climax, she felt a sense of peace settle over her, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

[henry7931]

Adventures In Babysitting Spinoff: Billy’s College Adventures Part 1

It’s been 10 years since Billy’s adventures with Leo.

Billy:

Hi, I’m Billy. I think most of you are familiar with me although it’s been a hot minute. But let me catch you up. I’m now in college and doing pretty well on the most part. I guess you can say I live a somewhat ordinary life (outside of my powers of course). I live 10 hours away from my hometown now and it’s been a little bit of a challenge for me. I have little to no friends here which is my fault. I don’t really go out to parties. I’m a good student which I great and all… I’m just bored! Mainly because I promised both of my dads that I wouldn’t use my powers here. Bleh!

I realize that my abilities can seem a bit… I don’t know odd. But they feel like such a big part of me. Not only that but I also figured out how to expand them! I recently discovered before college that not only can I swap bodies with someone but I can also swap two individuals without swapping myself. Pretty cool right?

Sigh… I just can’t use them.

I don’t think anyone else has my ability. I’ve been trying for years, doing countless research on my computer to see if I’m the only person on earth who can swap with someone. And it might just be me.

Well… that statement was true until something crazy happened.

The other day I’m sitting in my Chemistry class trying my hardest to not fall asleep during our lecture. After about 30 minutes in, I got up to use the restroom hoping I’d wake up a bit.

As I’m heading down the hallway, I hear two voices panicking.

They come around the corner and it’s a guy around my age along with someone I’d assume to be a professor. I quickly hid behind a door leaving it open just enough so I can see what’s going on.

“Professor William! What did you do to us?,” says the older guy.

“Jeremy! You think I did this? You think i want to he you??!? I’m trying not to have a panic attack. This is unheard of… two people somehow becoming eachother. This has to be a dream! I have to be sleeping right now! Wake up! Wake up!,” says the young college student who starts slapping himself in the face over and over again.

“Stop slapping my face!,” says the professor grabbing the students hand.

“Oh god! This isn’t a dream!”

“Yeah No shit! Now can you pull yourself together, people are going to think Im crazy!!”

This has to be a joke… there is no way someone else has the same powers as me. Especially someone who goes to school with me.

I look around trying to see if anyone else was around them.

No one is in the hallway…

I look back at the college student and the professor. The professor inside of the college student is hyperventilating while the other is pacing back and forth.

I thought to myself, I know I’m not supposed to use my powers here… but this maybe the one exception.

I switch them back.

“Holy shit! Professor Williams! I’m me!!”

Professor Williams looks down at his body with disbelief.

“This… how did we… oh god, let’s just get out of here. I have a lesson here shortly. Make sure you bring your report back to me Monday, okay?”

“Sure thing!”

As both of them leave, I see a tall figure with a hoodie on dart for the door.

“Hey! Come back!,” I say running after them.

They keep running and I chase after them. They head outside and by the time I get to the door, a giant shuffle of people were all outside. I looked around for the hoodie but whoever that was— wasn’t anywhere to be found.

After class, I head back to my place. I laid back in bed thinking about the possibility that someone else near me had my powers.

I feel excited from the thought that I’m not the only one. But then another thought hit me— why would they swap that guy and his professor?

Was it just to be devious? Or did they have a good reason?

Listen, I’ve been guilty of swapping my family, Leo, his friends around… hell I one time swapped bodies with a teacher just to get out of a final.

But swapping those two people felt like they did it with intent. Wait… did they know that I swapped them back? Did I just accidentally outed myself?

Fuckkkk…

I grab my phone and start texting Leo. Yes, I still talk to Leo. He said we can keep friends as long as I don’t steal his body again.

I try calling him but it just goes to voicemail.

“Hey I think I messed up. Call me when you get a second.”

Ugh… I’m sure Leo is doing something too cool with his fiancé. He met some guy and he’s head over heels for him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for Leo. Just a little bitter is all.

A few minutes pass and I close my eyes for a second.

When I open my eyes back up, I feel almost disoriented. It’s dark outside which means I must have fell asleep for hours…

It takes me a second but I suddenly realize that I’m no longer in my room… actually I don’t know where the hell I am.

I stumble around the darkness until I find a phone. The unlocks from face recognition and I immediately open up the camera.

“What the fuck?”

Who am I???

Meanwhile…

Samuel:

*Billy’s phone rings in the distance, it’s a call from Leo*

“Hello?…Oh hey… yeah. Nothing much, just chilling here— What? My text? That’s right! No I’m all good, sorry about that… didn’t mean to panic you. I know! But can I like call you back? Okay, great. Thanks!”

Geez! One second in this guy’s body and I’m already having to pretend to him!

Billy… huh… you’re a pretty good looking guy Billy. My names Samuel and we’re about to get closer than ever lol.

I tug off Billy’s socks and prop up his feet. Damn, he has some sexy ass toes.

I’m sure he’ll be here soon in my body. It’s funny, I knew of the existence of other swappers. But I never thought in a million years one would be so dumb to make it so obvious. I mean it was one thing when he swapped those guys back but then follow me? What an idiot!

I unbutton Billy’s pants and reach into his pants.

“Mhmmm…”

Man! Touching another guys junk never gets old! And he’s cute?!? This is about to be fun!

[hockeyboistrash]

operation get luke a girlfriend | l.h

summary: jack is tired of watching his brother pine over his best friend so he takes matters into his own hands to get you both to admit your feelings for each other. His plan, however, goes horribly wrong.

this idea popped into my and had to write it. I've never written for Luke so I hope I've done it justice. this one has been cooking for a while so I hope you enjoy. This is basically 4.2k words of best friends to lovers.

@star2fishmeg this one's for you 💖

You and Luke were best friends. You would do anything for each other. It could be after midnight but you would still pick Luke up after a roadie. Luke would ditch a game of Chel with his brothers if you were having a bad day, bringing you your favourite food and movies. Whenever asked about it the same three words would be spoken. ‘We’re just friends.’ No one was convinced though, especially Jack. Watching his younger brother pine after his best friend was painful to watch. He wanted nothing more than his brother to be happy. You brought him out of his shell. Luke was quite reserved around people unless you were his family so Jack and Quinn were surprised when he said more than two words to you the first time you met.

It didn’t faze Jack that Luke was dressed up to go to a party, only smirking at him as he got his stuff together. He saw the way your eyes lit up when Luke agreed to go to your party and how his brother bit his lip to try and hide his smile after you hugged him. It was obvious there was something more between the two of you and Jack hoped tonight one of you admits it. 

Luke wasn’t normally one for parties and he has a game tomorrow but when you invited him he couldn’t say no. The party playlist you curated was playing as he slipped into your apartment. It didn’t take long before he heard his name being called from across the room. “Luke! You came!” You shouted, flinging your arms around him while Luke wrapped his arms around your waist instinctively. 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” He mumbled, loud enough so only you could hear him. Luke was glad you couldn’t see his face, heat rising to his cheeks. 

“Well I appreciate it.” You told him, your lips tugging into a grin. “Let’s get you a drink.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the makeshift drinks table. Luke looked down at your intertwined fingers, liking the way it felt. He knew he shouldn’t though because you’re his best friend. Best friends aren’t supposed to miss the feeling of your hand in his when you let go. Luke missed the warmth of your hand in his cold one. He could shove them in his pocket to try and warm them up but he preferred the alternative, holding your hand. “Earth to Luke.” You waved your hand in front of his face, giggling as you brought him out of his inner spiral. 

“Yes. Sorry. Thank you.” Luke stuttered out. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, eyebrows tugged into a slight frown, worried about him as he was a little distracted. 

“Everything's fine.” He told you, trying to cover up the fact he was thinking about holding your hand again. You weren't convinced though. You've known Luke for a couple of years now and you knew when he wasn't being entirely honest with you. You also know he likes to downplay everything. 

“I know it's easier said than done but you don't have to worry about tomorrow. You're going to defend like hell out there and win.” You said, giving his forearm a comforting squeeze. Luke loves your positivity. It's contagious and never fails to make him feel better. He knows that there's no way the team will win every game but you still tell him he will and he still goes onto the ice with a pep in his step. “Maybe you'll even score a goal.” You winked, your laugh was music to Luke's ears. He could kiss you right now. He wanted to kiss you but there's no way you felt the same about him so he buried those thoughts deep in his mind. He would rather bury his feelings than risk losing his best friend.

Your name was shouted from across the room before Luke could think of a witty comeback. You grabbed his hand and started dragging him with you. Luke’s eyes widened seeing the karaoke set up. “Not gonna happen.” Luke said, shaking his head vehemently. 

“Relax Luke, I wasn’t going to make you sing. I just- This is going to sound dumb.” You started, biting your lip slightly. “Basically I kinda agreed to sing one song on the karaoke machine with Maria but now I’m nervous and, I don’t know, I thought having you there would make it not as bad. It’s dumb I know.” You rambled. 

“It’s not dumb.” Luke mumbled. He was taken aback by your admission. You were one of the most confident people he knew. “I’ll be standing right here, cheering you on.” 

You grinned, thanking him before going over to your friend. She handed you a microphone as the start of the song began playing. Your eyes twinkled as they found Luke in the small crowd of your friends that was gathering. To him, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. He was so engrossed in your performance that he didn’t notice he wasn’t the only one watching you intently until someone nudged him, his drink spilling over his hand. “They’re amazing aren’t they?” They shouted over the music, gesturing to you at the front of the room. Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about this guy that made his skin crawl. He grunted in agreement hoping he got the hint that he wanted to be left alone until you came back over. He didn’t.

Luke didn’t even get a chance to greet you before the guy next to him did. He didn’t remember you mentioning anything about a new guy in your life. You told each other everything. Your new friends, any potential boyfriends or girlfriends, anything that is going on in your lifes so he was confused when you greeted him. “Luke this is Scott, Scott this is my friend Luke.” 

‘Friend’ That stung a little. Luke wasn’t sure why though because it was true, you are friends yet hearing you introduce him to some guy, who you may or may not be hooking up with, as a friend caused an unfamiliar feeling to bubble inside. 

“I’m gonna head out.” Luke mumbled, leaning down so only you could hear him. He wasn’t in the mood to third wheel which is what it felt like to him. Luke only knew you and your roommate at this party and only came for you. 

“Oh, okay. Let me walk you out.” You said trying to hide the disappointment in your tone. You made the short walk to the front door, handing Luke his coat. “Thank you again for coming. I know you have a game tomorrow so it means a lot that you came.” 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” Luke shrugged. He could add so much more, he wanted to in fact yet there was something holding him back, maybe it was the rational side of his brain that knew if he continued speaking it would change everything. He wanted to tell you that he knew coming would make you smile and he loves your smile. He wanted to tell you that he misses you when he’s gone, wanting to spend all the time he could with you. 

“Well, I’ll be there tomorrow night, front row wearing number forty-three.” You told him, your lips turned up into a smile. It was contagious causing Luke’s to do the same. He loved when you wore his jersey. 

“See you tomorrow.” Luke said, giving you a quick hug. You didn’t let go though, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“See you tomorrow, Luke.” You said, turning quickly to the door and heading back inside the party. 

Luke stayed frozen in the hall, staring ahead. He didn’t miss the way Scott was watching the two of you. He must have watched you kiss Luke. You kissed Luke. On the cheek. Something neither of you have done before. The most you have done was hug each other but never kissed. Luke was glad you went back inside so you couldn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Luke wasn’t exactly sure how he made it back to his and Jack’s apartment but he did. It was like he was on autopilot. Locking the door behind him. Slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat up. “Luke?! Is that you?! You’re back early.” Jack called from his spot on the couch where Luke left him earlier in the evening. 

“Y/N kissed me.” Was all Luke said before heading to his room leaving Jack shocked.

“What the fuck.” He mumbled, surprised at his brother's confession. Jack immediately rang Quinn to inform him of the revelation, ignoring the time difference.

“This better be good.” Quinn greeted, sighing at being interrupted and wondering why his brother is still up so late.

“Hello to you too.” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d want to know Y/N kissed Luke.”

“What?!” He shouted down the phone. “Are you sure? When? What?!” Quinn was lost for words. He knew his brother was madly in love with you and that you were madly in love back, anyone with eyes could see that except you two. Their mom also picked up on it. 

“I don’t know. He didn’t elaborate.” Jack said. “It’s time though.”

“Jack, don’t.” Quinn warned, knowing exactly what he was on about. This wasn’t the first time he brought it up but Quinn was insistent that they shouldn’t meddle in their brother’s love life. Jack was bored of waiting for either of you to make the first move and decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Too late. The plan has been made. Operation get Luke a girlfriend is a go.” Jack said, ignoring his brother's concern and hanging up on him. 

-x-

Jack had a plan. It wasn't a great plan and Nico told him that at any opportunity he could. All he could do was shake his head at his teammates' antics knowing that once Jack had an idea there was no way to stop him. 

“We need to somehow find out if Y/N is dating this Scott guy.” Jack said, his voice low in case his brother walked in. They had just finished practice and were sat in their stalls in various states of undress. Jesper and Dawson leant forward, hanging on every word. 

“We could just ask them? Aren't they coming to the game tonight?” Nico suggested while Jack gave him an incredulous look, like that was the craziest idea he's heard. 

“Or we could invite them round to the team party and ask them about how their life is?” Dawson piped up. 

“Yes! That's it!” Jack exclaimed, making Nico roll his eyes because that was basically his idea, just more straightforward. 

“Won't Luke ask Y/N to come?” Nico asked. 

“Nah he's freaking the fuck out that he's ruined their friendship or something.” Jack told them. He finally got it out of his brother what had happened last night. That you were talking to this guy, Scott, and then you kissed him when saying goodbye and then you haven't messaged him about the kiss. Luke was convinced it was the end of the friendship he knew and loved. “So we gotta give them a little push.”

Nico shook his head, getting up to go to the shower just as Luke was coming into the locker room. “This is a terrible idea.” He mumbled, wanting no part of it. 

-x-

Your eyes lit up when you saw Luke leaving the locker room, your lips tugged into a smile just as bright. The Devils had just won so you're not sure why your best friend didn't look his usual happy self after a win. His eyes landed on you, surprised you're here and wearing his jersey. He made his way over to you, his strides large so it didn't take long for him to stand in front of you. 

“You still came?” Luke said, struggling to hide the surprise in his tone. He could feel his finger twitch by his side, the urge to tuck the stray bit of hair behind your ear strong.

“Of course I came. Did you not want me to come?” You asked, worried that you overstepped. You looked down at your shoes, wanting to hide from his gaze. 

“No, no. I'm glad you came. I want you to be here. It's just- I didn't hear from you all day so I didn't know if you were still coming.” Luke stuttered out, hating that the thought of him not wanting you here crossed your mind. “I want you here, Y/N.” He reiterated, silently pleading for you to look at him again. 

“I'm sorry I didn't message you today. I had a little too much to drink after you left and then I didn't wake up until midday. I thought you'd be too busy at that point so I didn't want to bother you.” You admitted, looking back up at him. Luke wanted to tell you that he's never too busy for you. It was on the tip of his tongue but as always his brother has the best timing.

“Y/N!” Jack exclaimed the moment his eyes landed on you. 

“Hey Jack.” You smiled at the older boy. “Great game tonight.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He grinned, not realising he was interrupting something or not caring. “You're coming to the team meal, right?”

“Team meal?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. You looked at Luke hoping for some clarification.

“I was going to tell you.” He told you, rubbing the back of his neck. “The team is having a little get together next weekend and you're invited if you want to come.” Luke could kill his brother right now. He was going to ask you himself but now he’s worried you're going to think he didn’t want you there. The rational side of him knows he's just overthinking however ever since the kiss his thoughts have been in overdrive.

“I'd love to come. As long as I'm not intruding.” You said, biting your lip slightly, a nervous habit of yours. You always felt a little weird going to team events, official or unofficial ones, as Luke’s plus one because you weren't dating. That fact you were very much aware of. 

“You're not intruding, Y/N. All the guys would love it if you came.” Jack assured you. “Besides, we need someone to keep this guy in check.” He teased earning an eye roll and a playful shove from Luke and a giggle from you. 

“Well I'll be there.” You confirmed. “Do you need me to bring anything?” 

“Oh, errm, I think Cap is sorting all that out so better ask him.” Luke told you, trying to get you to leave for a moment so he could curse his brother out.

“I'll go and do that.” You said, spotting Nico across the corridor. You gave Luke's hand a little squeeze and smiled at him. “I won't be a sec.”

Luke watched you go over to Nico and Dawson, waiting until you were out of an earshot before scowling at his brother. “Why on earth would you mention the dinner when you know I haven't asked them yet.” 

“Didn't know you actually were going to ask them.” Jack shrugged. He was trying to hide the amusement this situation gave him. 

“Well I was and now Y/N's going to think I don't want them there.” He hissed, keeping his voice low so you can't hear them. 

“They're not going to think that.” Jack told his brother even though he knew it was no use. Once Luke had something in his head it was hard to change his mind. “Y/N is in love with you! It's so obvious but you refuse to see it.”

“We're just friends.” Luke insisted, trying to convince himself more than Jack. 

“Friends don't do what Y/N does. Friends don't kiss.” He pointed out. Luke clenched his jaw, trying not to make a scene. That was the last thing he wanted right now. All he wanted was for Jack to shut up, to stop him giving him hope knowing it'd only bring him heartbreak. Luke couldn't handle your rejection. 

“I'm not interrupting am I?” You asked, your smile fell when your gaze landed on Luke. You rarely saw Luke angry. You knew he got angry on the ice but this was different. The last time you saw him like this, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, was at a bar and some creep was hitting on you, not taking no for an answer. 

“Not at all.” Jack said, slightly shaking his head at his brother before walking away, leaving the tension hanging. Luke was about to follow but you grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, willing for Luke to look at you instead of staring ahead. 

“Everything's fine, Y/N.” He hoped you would let it go. The problem with being best friends though is you know when something is wrong. 

“Luke, you don't have to keep things from me. I know something is wrong.” You said, searching his face for any reaction, the silence killing you. “D-did I do something wrong? Please tell me if I did something wrong.” 

“I-I'm sorry.” He had to get out of there. It broke his heart being the cause of your hurt but he didn't want to make things worse. “Jack’s my ride and I-I have to go.” Luke stuttered out before walking away to join his brother. 

“Luke, wait.” You pleaded softly but it was no use. He was gone. You didn't want to cause a scene so you willed the tears that threatened to fall to wait until you got home. 

“You alright, Y/N?” Nico asked, making you jump slightly not realising there were people still in the corridor.

“I'm fine.” You said with a forced smile. Nico saw right through it but he didn't want to bring it up. What he was going to do is kill Jack. He knew it was a terrible idea to interfere with Luke’s love life and now he may have ruined their friendship. “I better go too. Got a lot of work to catch up on. Great game tonight though.” You rushed out before hurrying to your car, wanting to put as much space as possible between you and the arena. 

The moment you got home you made a beeline to your room, ignoring your roommates calls. You threw Luke’s jersey off, the material feeling uncomfortable on your skin. You were spiralling, pacing the room as your mind went over every little detail from the past couple of days. One minute you were discussing summer plans and inviting him round to your party and the next you're kissing him. That's when the realisation hit. 

“You're home early.” Your roommate said, leaning against the doorframe. “Thought you'd be hanging out with Luke tonight.”

“He probably doesn't wanna see me ever again.” You mumbled, face down on your bed. 

“Don't be ridiculous of course he does. You're his best friend.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “What happened?” 

“I kissed him last night.” You admitted, biting your lips slightly feeling nervous under your roommate's gaze. “And now I've ruined everything.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked and you told her everything. From the way you felt brave enough to kiss him on the cheek goodbye to not hearing from him all day. Then you told her what had happened at the rink. She listened as you spilled every thought and feeling you had without judgement. She let you get everything off your chest before chiming in. “It sounds to me that Luke is being stupid. He’s so in love with you that it’s kinda sickening sometimes. I swear he’s permanently got heart eyes whenever he sees you. Just give him a little time, you know how in his head he can get.” You nodded, taking in her advice knowing she was right. 

-x-

You weren’t going to come to the team dinner. Even though Luke has apologised for what happened after the game and you were talking again something felt off between you. It was like there was an elephant in the room that neither of you were talking about. Jack had texted you, persuading you to still come and so did Dawson and some of the other guys. That’s why you were standing in front of the door, finding the motivation to knock on the door.

Nico was the first to greet you, answering the door when you finally knocked. He took your coat, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door while you walked down the hallway to the living room where you were met with a chorus of hello’s. 

“Damn, Y/N! Got a hot date after that we don’t know about.” Dawson called from the breakfast bar, a drink in each hand. You couldn’t help but look down at your outfit, feeling a little self conscious. You knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way but now you were worried what you were wearing was a bit much. Luke wanted to assure you it wasn’t too much, that you looked beautiful tonight. Well to him you always did. 

“Nope. No hot date.” You told him, your eyes not leaving Luke as if it was him you were telling. They followed him as he excused himself to the kitchen, not missing the way blush dusted his cheeks. You decided to join him in the kitchen, wanting your best friend back and the only way that would happen is by talking to him. “Hey.” You greeted, making Luke jump slightly.

“Hey.” It was soft, like he didn’t want to ruin the silence. Your eyes raked over him, taking in every detail in case this was the last time you saw him. From his curly hair, which you enjoy running your fingers through, to his hands, which you miss holding.

“Please tell me if I read the situation wrong. That you didn’t want me to kiss you goodbye.” You said, your directness surprising Luke a little. “Because right now I feel like I’ve ruined everything.” You waited for an answer, the silence killing you. Your eyes flickered over Luke’s face looking for any reaction, willing for him to respond, but nothing. 

You took that as your answer, leaving Luke alone in the kitchen and heading out of the front door, grabbing your coat on the way. You didn’t care if everyone saw what happened. At this rate you would never see the team again. You didn’t stick around long enough to hear their concerned questions or to see Luke realise what you were saying.

“Y/N, wait!” Luke called after you, running down the street in a t-shirt and jeans. Even after everything you were concerned he was going to catch a cold or something.

“Luke, what are you doing? Where’s your coat? You’re going to get ill.” You rushed out, fretting over him. He hadn’t even noticed he didn’t grab his coat. That was the last thing on his mind, the first being you.

“I don’t care. I had to catch up with you.” He told you, pulling you to the side so you weren’t in peoples' way. “I’m sorry.”

“Luke-” You sighed but he continued, wanting to get everything off his chest.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend recently. I’ve just been so in my head about everything and that’s not an excuse but I’m sorry. If anyone’s ruined anything it’s me.” Luke rambled. “You kissed me but I thought you were going out with Scott so I tried to put distance between us which was very stupid of me because I realised I hate being apart from you. I liked that you kissed me though.”

“Y-you did?” You asked.

“Yes and I wish I could kiss you back this time.” Luke said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. They were cold but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, like they were where they belonged. “If you want me to, that is.” He added, not wanting to overstep. You didn’t trust your voice to reply to him, to tell him yes you wanted to kiss him. That you wanted him to do that for the longest time. You leaned up, brushing your lips against his, an invitation for him to kiss you. It was soft, Luke wanting to savour every bit of it. Your lips were sweet from your lip balm, a fact he would remember for a long time. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m so sorry I was too chicken to do anything about it too.”

“Well you weren’t the only one who was scared.” You assured him. “I love you too.” Luke couldn’t help but smile hearing those words come out of your mouth. You leaned up to kiss him again, his cold skin touching yours making you shiver. “Let’s head back and get you warmed up.” You said about to walk back to Nico’s apartment when Luke stopped you.

“Or we could just go back to mine.” He suggested, not wanting to go back to everyone just yet. 

“Fine but you’re having a warm shower. I can’t have your mom or your coach kill me because you got sick.” You told him. 

“But it’d be worth it though.” Luke grinned and he was right. It would be worth it because you are in love with your best friend.

[ritchiepage2001newaccount]

WHY UNIVERSAL BACKGROUND CHECKS ARE JUST AS UNLIKELY AS EVER, UNFORTUNATELY

I'm a leftist (Libertarian-Socialist), who votes progressive, because I live under an "elected" government, and I had thought I had purged the MSNBC/CNN Nation from my friends list, but apparently not, as my timeline is just chock-full of media-driven hysteria over current events, so here's a primer:

"Liberals" who think their arguments are clever or relevant to the Second Amendment are exhausting.

They are not the left; they are just one half of the good cop/bad cop act of the corporate owned fire-hose of bullshit that is the corporate media, and corporate America's governing criminal cartel/duopoly.

Both cults "I like simple and ineffectual 'solutions', because they make me feel like I'm doing something, and I'm just stinky with fear."

There are over a hundred million legal gun owners, who some want to punish for somebody else's crime.

Well, there are some things to consider.

We've been a heavily armed country since 1621, and yet the epidemic of daily mass-shootings didn't begin until 20 April 1999 (Columbine), at a time when gun ownership was at an all-time low, and five years after Clinton's assault-weapons ban, so maybe guns aren't the variable.

Worth noting: One of the first things the "Pilgrims" did when they betrayed the Native Americans, was disarm "King Phillip" and his men.

Maybe, just maybe, dead school-children are the price of the neoliberalism practiced under the "Washington Consensus" of BOTH right-wing authoritarian parties since the 1980's? When your country offers you no prospects, and you become terrified of the future, what then? Fear can make unstable people do desperate things. Add to that a culture of celebrity, and what could possibly go wrong?

Another factor that goes completely unexamined, is the way Ronald Reagan and Tip O'Neill emptied our state hospitals onto our streets, and onto families ill-equipped to deal with the sometimes violent mentally ill.

Thank God, the "solution" is so simple…

Also, 84% of NRA members support universal background checks. The problem is, every time a bill comes up for a vote, Democrats add poison pill amendments guaranteeing defeat in the legislature (and the courts), and then they proceed to tell the TV cameras that "once again the GOP and the gun lobby have voted down background checks and defied the will of the people", or some such nonsense.

If you want to watch Dems sabotage universal background checks (while Republicans roll their eyes and face-palm) in real time, go here:

It's like a version of Groundhog Day, where Bill Murray can't learn.

P.S. You can probably guess which one of these three groups I belong to (Hint: It's the one that's growing and actually decides elections):

LaborPartyNow!!!

P S The line, "You don't need 30 rounds to shoot a deer!" is not clever.

The Second Amendment has nothing to do with hunting tools, toys for hobbyists (target shooting), or even weapons for self-defense.

It's about ARMS!!!

It's about the individual citizen's right to arms, so they'll be prepared to join a militia, not the other way around. ‘Well regulated’ at that time, simply meant, ‘efficient.’ In other words, in order for a muster to be efficient, civilians needed to be already armed.

So the "collective rights" argument has a couple of problems that make it quite unhinged from history and reality.

1) As I've mentioned above, Americans have always been relatively heavily armed. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?

2) Contrary to what you were probably taught in school, by the time of the Confederate artillery barrage on Fort Sumter, the war over slavery had already been going on for over six years, and was fought entirely by independent volunteer militia's. Fort Sumter was just the beginning of official involvement by government troops. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?

3) In what universe do government forces need to have their right to arms protected?

4) Since when do National Guard members keep National Guard arms (Hint: they're kept at the armory, and have been since colonial times)?

5) Obviously, "Liberals" are stupid.

Again: #LaborPartyNow!!!

P P S That was ENTIRELY the point of the first fruits of dissent, the 10 Amendments we've come to call the BILL OF RIGHTS (which have become a beacon to aspiring democrats all over the world), to protect INDIVIDUALS from the government they had just created. #TrueStory

"Facts are stubborn things, so fuck your feelings." -John Adams

[karinyosa]

i could make a massive essaypost about it, or i could just show you all the genius lyrics annotations i made about clown bible judas