#but sometimes when no one makes the effort towards you it’s hard to see that

[secretmaniacc]

FILL THE VOID

Pairings: the salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: After avoiding him for two days, she finds herself pinned down as he insists they go out to dinner, just as he promised in their bet. Reluctantly agreeing, she anticipates an elegant evening, but the night quickly takes an exciting and dangerous turn.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, Dom!salesman x baddie!oc, teasing, degrading, kissing, gun play, Russian roulette, knife play, semi public sex, hair pulling, mentions of blood, oral sex, male recieving, p in v, rough sex, spanking.

Wc: 6.2k

A/n: so sorry for the wait here’s pt.2 for “ride or die” since some of y’all liked it and I’m very happy for that, did some justice this time and spiced it up they can be out of character sometime so forgive me, hope y’all will enjoy it really worked hard on this one, not proofread <3

For two days, she’d managed to avoid him—strategically timing her office hours to when he wasn’t there, ignoring his messages, and pretending not to notice the way he seemed to linger just out of reach. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her. 

That time came at the end of a long day when she thought she was safe. She gathered her things and prepared to turn around and head towards the door, only to feel a familiar presence.

“Thought you could avoid me forever?” His voice was low, smooth, and infuriatingly smug. 

Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag as she turned, schooling her features into something calm and unaffected. “I’m busy. Move.” 

He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Busy ignoring me? Impressive effort, but I don’t take silence well.” 

“I’m not ignoring you,” she lied, stepping forward to brush past him. 

His arm shot out, blocking her path. “Really? Then why haven’t you answered my messages? Or were you too busy pondering about how much fun we had in the alley?” 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she shot back, her tone clipped as she tried to push past him again. 

But this time, he shifted, moving to block her entirely and locking the door with a quick twist of his wrist. The faint click of the lock sent a chill down her spine, though she refused to show it. 

“Let me go,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as she felt her pulse quicken. 

He leaned back against the door, his arms crossed lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. “Not until we settle something.” 

She arched a brow, masking her unease with irritation. “And what’s so important that you’re resorting to theatrics?” 

His grin widened, his gaze sparkling with that insufferable confidence. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to take you to dinner, didn’t I? Unless, of course, you’d rather recall how I made you feel so good in the alley.” 

She blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. “That was two days ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It matters to me.” He stepped closer, the teasing edge in his voice making her heart stutter. “You won, fair and square. So, dinner. Tonight.” 

“Not happening,” she said firmly, though the conviction in her voice wavered slightly. 

He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Why so stubborn? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?” 

Her jaw tightened. “I’m just not interested.” 

“You’re lying.” 

She glared at him, determined not to let him see how her resolve faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re avoiding the truth,” he countered, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between them. “But that’s fine. Say no if you want—I’ll still show up outside your door.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though the uncertainty in her voice made her doubt her own words. 

“Try me,” he challenged, his tone light but his intent clear. 

She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. “Fine. One dinner. But don’t make a habit of this.” 

His grin broadened, a glimmer of triumph lighting up his face. “Perfect. Wear something elegant—something that’ll fit the place. I expect you’ll be just as stunning as you were in the alley” 

“Excuse me?” 

He ignored her indignation, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth. “See you tonight,” he murmured before stepping aside and unlocking the door. 

She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected gesture. The smug look on his face only made her irritation flare, and she pushed past him with a sharp, “Don’t be late.” 

As she walked away, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation. But the faint smile tugging at her lips told a different story. 

-----

She stood before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of her bedroom light catching the gentle shimmer of her crimson dress. The bodice hugged her figure like it was made for her, the delicate cowl neckline draping gracefully across her collarbones, while the fabric flowed into a silky skirt that brushed the floor with every subtle movement. Her long, black hair fell in effortless curls to her waist, framing her face with a touch of timeless elegance. A sheer wrap rested loosely on her arms, adding a layer of ethereal softness that seemed to dance with every step. 

Her phone buzzed on the dresser, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down to see his text: "I’ll be there in five." Letting out a small breath, she grabbed her purse, gave herself one last look, and headed downstairs. 

The evening air was cool as she stepped outside, heels clicking softly against the pavement. There he was, leaning casually against a sleek black Audi A6, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. He wore a tailored black suit that framed his tall, broad figure perfectly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a black tie that added a sharp elegance to his appearance. His dark hair was neatly styled, though a rebellious strand fell over his forehead, softening his otherwise sharp features. 

As she approached, his gaze locked on her, a flicker of admiration crossing his face before he straightened and stepped toward her. Without a word, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet sincere, his eyes holding hers for just a moment longer than necessary. 

A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she managed a small, teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

His lips twitched into a smirk as he opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to step inside. 

She settled into the plush leather seat, the soft scent of new car and faint cologne filling the space. The interior was sleek, with polished silver accents and an impressive digital dashboard glowing faintly in the dim light. She trailed her fingers over the armrest, the comfort and luxury surprising her. 

“You own this?” she asked, glancing at him as he slipped into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel. 

He chuckled softly. “Why? Did you think I’d show up in something less fitting?” 

She shook her head, amused but still impressed, as they drove in silence toward their destination.  He would make teasing comments here and there that earned a chuckle from her.

The car pulled up to one of the most elegant restaurants in town, its grand facade glowing with soft golden lights. Outside, a long line of patrons waited eagerly, some dressed to the nines, chatting in anticipation. 

Her brows lifted in surprise at the sight. “You didn’t mention this place,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity. 

Before he could respond, two security guards stepped forward, opening her door with practiced precision. One took the keys from him while the other escorted them toward the entrance. She noticed how the murmuring crowd shifted, heads turning as they walked past. 

The guards held the doors open as they entered, bowing slightly in his direction. She bowed back out of respect, but he merely did, wrapping his arm around her waist as they stepped into the opulent dining area. 

The restaurant was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a soft melody from a grand piano filled the air with an elegant ambiance. 

They were guided to a private table near the window, the staff pulling out her chair as she sat. As he took his seat across from her, she leaned in slightly, her tone playful. 

“Care to explain why everyone is treating you like you’re some mafia boss?” 

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. “Let’s just say I know how to make an impression.” 

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure you do.” 

The waitress approached with a professional yet warm smile, handing them menus. “Welcome. May I offer you something to start with?” 

She glanced at the menu, the luxurious options catching her off guard. “Are there any prices on this thing, or do we just guess?” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at him. 

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. Feel free to splurge.” 

She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Good, because I was planning to order the most expensive thing just to annoy you.” 

“Be my guest,” he replied smoothly, his grin teasing. “But I hope you know that means dessert is non-negotiable.” 

her eyes scanning the intricate names of dishes written in french. Brows furrowed, she tilted the menu closer as if the words would magically make sense the second time around. 

“What is... uh, rat-a-tou-ille??” she sounded out slowly, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity. 

His lips curved into an amused smile. “Ratatouille. It’s a vegetable dish—stewed with tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and herbs. Simple but classic..” 

“Oh, okay. That doesn’t sound too bad,” she nodded before her eyes caught another word. “And this one? Coq... au vin??” 

“Coq au vin” he corrected with a small laugh. “Chicken braised in red wine with mushrooms and bacon. Very traditional.”.” 

She tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to consider it seriously, then moved on to another dish. “Bou-ya... bouillabaisse?” 

“Bouillabaisse,” he supplied smoothly. “.It’s a fish stew with a mix of seafood, Want me to keep translating, or are you planning to make me read the whole menu for you?” 

She shot him a playful glare. “Hey, these names are intimidating, okay? I didn’t grow up speaking fluent…. Uh, whatever this is."

“french” he said, unable to suppress the laugh that bubbled out. “I have to admit, though, this clueless act of yours is kind of adorable.”

She rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. “Whatever. I’ll just stick to this one.” She pointed to a dish she didn’t recognize but liked the sound of. 

When he glanced at his menu filled with prices unlike hers, his smirk grew wider. “Interesting choice,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. 

“What?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh. “Just that it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” 

He nodded, still grinning. “Repick. Or I’ll do it for you.” 

She groaned, flipping through the menu again. “Fine. You pick.” 

He didn’t even look at her menu, already knowing it by heart. “Filet de boeuf Rossini,” he said confidently.

Her eyes widened slightly. “That sounds... fancy.”

“It’s perfect,” he replied with a wink. “Trust me.”

The waitress returned, taking his order for a sole meunière and hers for the beef Rossini. “And a bottle of Château d’Yquem,” he added casually.

When the waitress nodded and walked away, she raised an eyebrow. “Château d’Yquem? What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.

Moments later, the waitress returned with a sleek silver ice bucket, placing it on the table with a bottle of golden wine nestled inside. The light caught the liquid, making it shimmer, and her eyes widened as realization hit.

“This is wine?” she asked, pointing to the bottle. 

“Not just any wine,” he said, pouring a glass with practiced ease. “It’s... exclusive.” 

“How exclusive?” she pressed.

He took a slow sip, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re drinking liquid gold?”

He laughed at her incredulous expression, his voice rich with amusement. “Relax. Tonight’s on me, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” he replied with a wink, setting his glass down.

Silence evoked as the air in the restaurant shimmered with quiet luxury, a symphony of muted chatter, piano tunes and crystal clinks filling the room. She leaned back against the chair, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. Her gaze flickered toward the expansive window, the city lights sprawling like a living canvas. There was an effortless grace to her, the way her crimson dress caught the glow of the chandeliers, the silk shifting like liquid fire with her every move.

He couldn’t look away.

His pupils sharpened with intensity as he studied her, the soft curve of her jawline, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in quiet awe. Her black hair, cascading in soft curls to her waist, gleamed under the golden light. She was a vision, suspended somewhere between elegance and rebellion, her beauty a contradiction he couldn’t quite define but didn’t want to stop trying to.

She tilted her head, her profile catching the faint light of the chandelier, and his breath hitched. As he took a sip of his whiskey, the taste burned less than the thought that this moment—her, here, now—felt like something he shouldn’t deserve.

He smirked at himself, shaking his head slightly. Get a grip.

But then she glanced back at him, catching his stare, her brow arching in question. “What?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he set his glass down. “Just taking it all in.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Moments later their food arrived, the rich aroma wafting from her plate made her mouth water. She picked up her fork, taking a cautious bite. The moment the tender beef hit her taste buds, her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft hum of delight escaped her lips. 

“This is... amazing,” she said, already diving in for another bite. 

He watched her, captivated by the way she was completely absorbed in her food. Every little sound she made—those happy, involuntary noises—pulled his attention. For a moment, the bustling restaurant around them disappeared, leaving only her. 

“You’re staring, again.” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. 

“You make it hard not to,” he admitted with a small smile. 

She flushed, quickly taking another bite. “Just eat your food, so we can get done” she muttered. 

He chuckled, cutting into his fish. They settled into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter between bites. At one point, she attempted to spear a piece of his fish with her fork, but he caught her wrist with a grin. 

“Ah, ah. That’s mine,” he teased. 

“Sharing is caring,” she retorted, but he held firm, playfully shaking his head. 

He shook his head with exaggerated defiance, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad? Beg for it.”

She narrowed her eyes, “‘Never mind,’” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm as she went back to eat.

He chuckled, leaning closer. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t do it.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up abruptly and grabbing her bag.

He burst into laughter, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m messing with you,” he said, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her back into the chair.

She shot him a glare, crossing her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love it,” he replied, giving her an amused smirk.

She sighed, reaching for her glass of water. As her gaze drifted across the room, it landed on a couple at a nearby table—so engrossed in each other they might as well have been the only two people in the restaurant. The man’s hand rested on the small of the woman’s back, and their faces were inches apart, whispering between soft kisses.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Get a room,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

He followed her line of sight, his brow arching before a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Jealous?”

She snapped her head back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Please. That’s gross. There’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and it’s not next to someone trying to enjoy a meal.”

His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying her reaction. “You’re awfully opinionated for someone who didn’t seem to mind when I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly. “That was different!”

“Oh, was it?” he teased, his tone playfully smug. “Because if I recall, you were the one leaning in first.”

Her jaw dropped. “I was not! You were the one who couldn’t keep it together and kissed me like some—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Someone who’s not afraid to take a chance?”

She glared at him, struggling to find a comeback that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole. “You’re crazy,” she finally huffed, crossing her arms again.

“not as much as you,” he replied, his smirk softening just enough to make her annoyed

The unspoken tension hung like a storm cloud between them, unshakably present as they lingered in that charged moment. “Are you actually saying you wish you were that couple?” he asked, leaning in with a seriousness that made her heart constrict.

Her heart raced at his words, a flutter of uncertainty and curiosity mixing with annoyance. “I just think PDA is a bit much!” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “I mean, can’t people keep it to themselves?”

“Really?” he challenged, his voice low, brushing against her ear as he leaned closer. “Or maybe you’re just afraid of what it could feel like to let loose, to feel something real for once?”

Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, a desperate edge in her voice. She could feel the tension weave between them like a live wire, crackling with possibility.

“Maybe I do,” he replied, that daring glint in his eye making her pulse quicken. “Maybe you just need the right moment to let go.”

The couple at the table nearby erupted in laughter again, and she found herself glancing back at them, trying to refocus. But when she looked up, he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. “Forget them,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, pulling her even further into his orbit. “What do you want? Something real? Or more of this… competition?”

Before she could formulate a response, he suddenly stood, extending a hand toward her. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, hesitating but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of doing something entirely unexpected.

“A place where we can talk,” he replied, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Unless you’re too scared to follow.”

With her heart racing and her mind swirling with uncertainty, she placed her hand in his. He led her through the restaurant’s bustling dining area, weaving through startled diners and busy waitstaff. But there was no turning back. The thrill of being drawn into the unknown ignited something within her.

They approached a door at the back of the restaurant, and she felt both exhilarated and apprehensive. He flung it open, and they stepped into a dimly lit hallway lined with fancy doors that seemed to whisper secrets.

“Seriously, where are we?” she asked, blinking in the low light as confusion mixed with an adrenaline high.

“Somewhere more private,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering with mischief and something deeper. “We won’t be interrupted here.”

Her pulse raced, excitement and fear coiling in her stomach. “Is this your idea of romance?” she shot back, the challenge lacing her voice, even as heat coursed through her.

“Maybe it’s just my idea of taking risks,” he countered, stepping closer, the space between them charged in a way that made her skin tingle. “You might even enjoy it.”

The energy shifted as they stood beneath the dim glow of the overhead light, their breaths mingling in the tight space. She caught herself wanting to feel the weight of his words, the electricity in the air. “What if someone catches?” she asked, half playful and half serious, but the way he was looking at her made her thrill with curiosity.

“Let them,” he said, eyes smouldering, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. “Are you really going to back down now?”

She felt a rush of defiance surge within her, mixed with undeniable attraction. “I’m not afraid,” she said boldly, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the thrill and lust she was trying to suppress.

“Then let’s find out how dangerous this might get,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, igniting the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

With that, he turned on his heel, pulling her deeper into the hall, and she felt her heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Each step into the unknown only drew them closer together, and she couldn't shake the thrill of what lay ahead—the thrilling uncertainty,

He paused in front of an ornate door that looked far more expensive than the rest, its golden handle glinting in the dim light. With a knowing smirk, he pushed it open, and she was met with an intoxicating scent—rich cologne mingling with something deeper, something intimate that tugged at her senses.

As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The room was lavishly decorated, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. An oversized leather couch sat in the center along with a table, surrounded by walls adorned with vibrant artwork that seemed to pull her in. Warm lights cast a cozy glow, and a plush rug covered the floor, offering a sense of comfort veiled in sultriness.

“wow,” she breathed, taking in the opulence, momentarily forgetting the tension simmering between them.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, gesturing toward the couch. She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, settling into the soft fabric while he moved around the room, his gaze scanning various items scattered about—a vintage record player, a collection of intriguing books, and an array of exotic liquor bottles.

Stopping at a sleek display cabinet, he opened the door and pulled out a pistol, its silver surface gleaming in the warm light. A grin played across his lips as he turned to face her, an unsettling excitement dancing in his eyes.

“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Russian roulette.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Relax.” He waved his hand dismissively, the light glinting off the barrel. “Only this time, we’re playing with a twist. There’s only one bullet, and each time the gun goes off, we have to strip a piece of clothing.”

A mix of thrill and apprehension surged through her. “That’s insane.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk deepening, “but wouldn’t it be fun?”

With a defiant spark in her eyes, she leaned forward. “Fine, let’s play.”

He sat across from her, the couch sinking slightly under his weight, and loaded the bullet into the chamber with a casualness that both intrigued and unnerved her. He spun the cylinder and brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger—click. He laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room,

“Not so scary, right?” he teased, loosening his suit jacket. With a fluid motion, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung to his frame, accentuating the muscular definition of his arms and shoulders. The sight made her pulse quicken

“Your turn.” He passed the gun to her.

She arched an eyebrow but took the gun, feeling its weight in her hand. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. She spun the cylinder herself, heart racing, and then pressed it to her temple. Click. A rush of relief washed over her.

“Now it’s time to shed that scarf,” he said with a teasing tone. With a quick, decisive movement, she untied the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor, feeling freer, more emboldened.

“Here you go,” she responded, tossing the gun back to him. The tension was tangible as he caught it effortlessly.

filled with a languid confidence. “Ready?” He pressed the barrel once more to his temple—click. The sound rang through the air like a taunt, a challenge freighted with electricity.

“Lucky again,” he grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“What’s next? Your shirt?” she quipped, eager to see how far this would go.

His gaze flicked to her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he loosens the tie taking it off, before he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. With each button undone, the cloth pulled away to reveal the chiselled muscles of his torso, the defined lines and curves making her breathless. He threw the shirt aside, letting it flutter to the ground like a fallen banner of surrender.

She couldn’t help but take in the sight, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. she breathed, both impressed and challenged by the game they were playing.

“Like what you see? Now it’s your turn,” he teased, giving her the gun once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

She took the gun, spun the cylinder yet again, and pressed it against her temple—click. Relief flooded her, but the tension was palpable.

“Let’s play it safe,” she decided, slipping off her heels and leaving her feet bare on the plush rug beneath her. The contact with the soft Fibers felt grounding after the intensity of the game.

“Back to me,” he said, taking the gun from her hands once more. He spun the cylinder, glancing at her with that effortless chill. “Here we go.”

With a languid movement, he pressed the cold metal against his own temple, a shrug of confidence reflecting in his posture. He squeezed the trigger—click. The sound reverberated, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

She felt a small knot of apprehension twist in her stomach. Could they keep going like this? The stakes were rising, and she felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He turned to her, offering her the gun again. “Your turn. Only two triggers are left, make sure not to die.”

With a mixture of determination and nerve, she accepted the gun from him. Her heart raced as she spun the cylinder for what felt like the hundredth time.

He stood to remove his shoes, casually tossing them to the side. That simple act ignited something within her, a thrilling edge of power and vulnerability. Just as he prepared to sit down, she lunged forward with a sudden burst of resolve.

With a swift motion, she pinned him against the couch, the gun now aimed firmly at his chest.

"What’s the matter?" he teased, the laughter in his eyes shifting to something darker. “Afraid you will die?”

“Not a chance,” she challenged, taking a seat on his lap, her pulse racing. In a moment of reckless defiance, she kept the gun pointed at him. “You think this is a game?”

He laughed, a wild, psychotic sound that echoed against the walls. his hands resting firmly on her waist, the gun now pressed against his chest as he leaned in closer. “I love it when you take charge.”

“You’re going to regret underestimating me,” she said, catching a glimpse of the wild delight dancing in his eyes.

“so it’s Game over for me?” he taunted, his words dripping with boldness. His hands slowly wandered to her thighs, fingers teasing, sending pulses of electricity coursing through her. “Shame, really. I’d hate to die without pleasuring you.”

Her breath hitched at his insinuation, his cocky demeanour igniting an uncontrollable fire within her. The tension crackled like static in the air, urging her to respond.

“You wish.” she said, her voice wavering slightly with the rush of emotions surging through her.

With a fury of need and desire, she leaned in and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, their mouths colliding in an explosion of pent-up frustration and attraction. The world around them melted away as her heart raced. The moment was electric, and in the whirlwind of passion, she pulled the trigger.

But all that followed was a click.

The sound ricocheted in the silence between them, and her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away. The thrill morphed into a dizzying rush as realization struck—there had been no bullet, no fatal ending, only the raw, intoxicating energy swirling in the air between them.

That's when he took the gun from her hands, his movements quick and decisive, a spark of defiance in his eyes. With a swift motion, he tossed it across the room, the gun landing with a loud thud against the wall.

“If you wanted my tongue against you, then you’ve fucking earned it,” he spat, crashing their lips together in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging tightly, igniting a low groan that reverberated into her mouth.

"You wanted to fucking kill me, sweetheart," he growled, biting her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from her.

“It was your game,” she countered, the adrenaline pulsing through her like fire.

“And yet,” he replied, his voice dark and sultry, “I’d never kill you.”

“I wouldn’t either.” She pulled back, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes roamed over his swollen lips and messy hair, an enticing sight.

“So, why did you aim that gun at me? Say it.”

“Because I was too damn scared, you’d do it instead of me,” she admitted, feeling his grip on her loosen slightly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to make a scene,” he murmured, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt with confidence.

“Kneel,” he demanded, helping her rise before guiding her down so she knelt on the floor, her dress cascading around her like a waterfall.

“You want to act like a little slut? Then suck until your mouth isn’t filthy,” he spat, and she flashed him a smirk as she slid his pants down, revealing his hard on.

Her hand wrapped around the base of him, moving up and down slowly, the rhythm sending soft growls of pleasure from his lips. As she continued pumping back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern the more he strived for her lips.

“Did you not hear me? I said suck,” he snapped, frustration threading through his tone.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You call me a slut yet can’t wait a moment longer?” With a teasing glimmer in her eyes, she leaned forward, taking his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat forming on his chest as he succumbed to the jolting pleasure.

Without warning he bunched her hair up in his fist and pushed his tip to the back of her throat, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she gagged. The sight of her watering eyes only seemed to rile him up.

“Look how fucking beautiful you are, my darling. Take all of me, just like the good whore you are," he breathed, pleasure dripping from his words.

Her eyes glistened with tears. and he watched her head bob back and forth.

"fuck I'm going to—" he gasped, releasing her head and pulling back slightly. But before he could finish himself off, she caught his hand, her determination surging, and continued, letting the warm liquid hit the back of her throat while he moaned, curses spilling from his lips until he finished.

He fixed his gaze on her as she swallowed every drop, wiping her bottom lip clean with a satisfied smile. “You’re not finishing with me down here,” she challenged, cheeky confidence returning.

“Insanity suits you,” he replied, standing and holding out a hand to help her rise. “Now let’s see just how wet you are for me.”

He led her to the table, and a surge of vulnerability washed over her as he slammed her against it giving him full access to her clit, while her stomach pressed against the polished wood. His hands roamed the insides of her thighs, and she softly moans as he moved her lace underwear to the side, his fingers brushing against her trembling skin

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back, connecting their lips once more, sucking on her bottom lip. After He released her hair, his hand quickly found her clit, eliciting a moan that was both pleasure and pain.

“Make a scene, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how much you enjoy this," he seethed, delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp, her stomach hitting the table harder.

As he moved her dress out of the way, he slowly removed her thong. Her grip tightened on the table's edges, anticipation thrumming in her veins. But just as she exhaled, he pressed a blade to her neck, drawing a gasp from her lips as he grabbed another fistful of hair to pull her back.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg to finish, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But this is on my terms. Move too much, and your blood will splatter.” She nodded slowly, and without warning he pushed himself inside of her.

She gasped, feeling every inch of him stretching her, she felt his eyes darken with lust as he fucked her against the table. Each powerful thrust accompanied by the sound of the table squeaking beneath her, the blade scratched at her skin making her hiss at the foreign pain of the knife grazing her neck.

“you like that? hmm” he asked, delight etched in his expression.

“I do. It hurts," she admitted, breathless.

“Tell me to stop,”

But the words caught in her throat, her senses overwhelmed as the blade pressed deeper, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes back in pleasure.

“ But that's the thing, you like that huh? You don't have to hide what you truly want. I know you like this blade at your neck. Watch how good you take my dick slut" he groaned into her ear picking up the pace and she could already feel herself coming close to finishing.

A few more cuts on her neck and he flipped her over, her back colliding with the table, the sharp contrast of sensations sending goosebumps over her skin.

He poured his focus on the cuts, pressing kisses over the crimson marks as the metallic taste lingered in the air. The euphoric mix of pain and pleasure sent her into a frenzy, her nails digging into his bare back as he slipped himself back inside of her her.

“You won’t be the only one leaving this room marked,” she moaned in between their kisses. Both of them cursing and filling the room with the sound of their pleasure.

Their bodies moved in sync, letting the euphoria continue and their pace become sloppy. a dangerous dance of desire and desperation, the air thick with their shared moans and whispered curses.

“I’m gonna—"

“Not yet,” he interrupted, the tension in his voice low and commanding.

“I can't—” she yelped when he stopped, a sharp smack to her ass, only hard enough to sting.

“You can, and you will,” he grunted, slamming into her again, her hips bucking against him as he threw her leg onto his shoulder, pushing deeper. His penetrating gaze bore into her, making sure she didn’t disobey.

“Beg if you wanna finish.”

“Please,” she pleaded, breathless urgency coloring her voice.

“You're mine. Never forget that. Got it?" he growled. She hummed in agreement.

“Use your words,”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Cum for me. Be a good girl,” he murmured, and she quickly became undone. After a couple more strokes he finished after, his head rolling back in delight.

Her legs quivering and the short circuit of her brain stopping for just a moment. It was almost as if her body was made to be with him alone, each pulse and surge a beautiful convergence of pleasure and pain.

He tucked himself back before effortlessly lifting her off the table. Her feet barely touched the floor before her legs wobbled beneath her, struggling to support her weight.

"I can’t walk," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table for support, the remnants of their passion still buzzing in her veins.

"What was that?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You heard me. Shut up and help me stand up," she sneered, irritation mingling with the lingering satisfaction in her tone.

He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice low and steady. With gentle firmness, he helped her regain her footing, guiding her away from the table as she leaned into him.

They took a few tentative steps, and he chuckled again, the sound warm against her ear. "You really know how to make things interesting."

“Oh, shut up,” she replied, though a smile betrayed her annoyance. “You’re lucky I’m even standing,” she added with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Lucky? I was thinking of round two,” he shot back with a grin, winking at her as they made their way towards the couch. Unaware of long night they’re about to witness.

part 1

[i-shift-your-pants]

tips for shifters or manifestors who have loved ones who are "villainous"

Note: these are simply my own beliefs and just me sharing experience with having two crazy killers between my loved ones in my DR i channel with, if you believe otherwise you don't have to agree

Okay so y'all know people in your DRs are REAL people with their own will and their own decisions? I'm gonna share some of my experience with...

🔷how to know if your villainous loved ones actually decided to change, improve themselves & grow or not🔷

I know most of your use the method to script "they are good people, and aren't mean anymore", "their personality isn't evil" & etc, this is a good one you can use!

but i know there are people (like me) who don't want to change the personality of their loved ones, here are some advice

🟦 You can use these tips whether you want to check them through channeling or when you shift and want to check their behavior in person 🟦🟦🟦🟦

•🔷 A BIG way to check is... do you still feel tense around them??? Do you have any signs of anxiety? If so... Trust your gut, and be very very careful (btw: anxiety can sometimes show itself as excitement too, be careful with that one as well)

•🔷 Check if their behavior changes towards EVERYONE ELSE too, if they want to change their coping mechanisms that are harmful towards people, that includes everyone

If you're the only soft spot or the only person they're nice to... Most likely it's so they make you trust them and so they don't lose your company.... This usually won't end well in long run because faking won't last forever

•🔷 favorite method of mine! FREQUENTLY CHECK HOW YOUR FRIENDS OR ANY OTHER LOVED ONES FEEL ABOUT THEM

•🔷 Another favorite one, check what they say when they're super sleepy, drunk, breaking down, lash out or not in the "right" state of mind, it's usually hard to hide your true intentions during those moments

•🔷 How do animals and children feel around their presence??

•🔷 Are they putting actual effort to improve themselves?? Or you have to keep drying your mouth to convince them into putting effort? Do they stop the effort behind your back?, guys! Remember, you can't change someone, it's THEIR OWN decision to change, if they want to do it, they will!

•🔷 (If your villainous loved one is a s/o) Check if you're infatuated, infatuation can be blinding, i would suggest frequently checking how your friends and family feel about this person while they're changing and improving their behavior, ask friends to call out any questionable behavior they see

•🔷 Last of all, don't ignore things that make you uncomfortable, Don't be like me🤣🤣🤣🤣

End of discussion _Blazer

Here's your cookie for reading everything 🍪 , eat it!

[tearingdread]

havin a normal one 👍

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

i'm kind of amazed how most of the stardew marriage candidates just want you to be their manic pixie dream whatever by agreeing with everything they like and plying them with compliments or praise or whatever (which is fine but a bit. Much) but for shane his romance is just you being there for him while he figures his own shit out... dunno why i never wanted to romance him before he's so good

[8housevenus]

8th house synastry!

hii, in this blog i'm going to talk about what your partner's planets mean in your 8th house. i'm going to focus this one on a more relationship-wise dynamic so there will be talks of sexual chemistry, kinks, and things of that nature. and of course, a lot more goes into these types of things apart from what i go over!! hope u enjoy <3

partner's sun in your 8th house - when your partner's sun is in your 8th house, you can find the sun person to be extremely off-putting and intense due to the fact that they will be very eager to figure you out. you appear mysterious to the sun person, and they will not make it unknown that they think they are the one to "repair you." there can be stubbornness in this relationship as your sun person will try to unveil your secrets and experiences you don't want to talk about. as the house person you can resent this and find it to be invasive. however, you have a deep appreciate towards the sun person due to their caring nature and abilities to handle your wounds. sex-life with this person can also be super intense, both of your vulnerabilities allow sex to be much deeper and memorable. this placement can be good for a long-term relationship as long as the house person can feel a sense of privacy. usually there is an instant sexual attraction between the two of you, especially by your sun person. it's magnetic and hard to resist.

partner's moon in your 8th house - house person will find plenty of comfort with the moon person. moon person will not be prone to criticizing your or weaponizing your feelings, they will make significant efforts to understand you and work around any dark areas. you both have very health boundaries surrounding each other's emotions, there's plenty of privacy and security between the two. moon person fulfils your emotional needs more than anybody else does. this can be very prevalent in the bedroom too; comfort is key for the both of you sexually. moon person will usually do more foreplay and deep-talk, they also will be more submissive and favorable to what the house person wants to do. usually, this moon person will be able to read you like an open book. moon person will flutter the house person with chest kisses and vice versa.

partner's mercury in your 8th house - mercury person loves to get behind the surface level discussions with the house person. they like to know you beyond the simple things. house person gives an outlet to the mercury person to express their feelings, stories, traumas, that they usually feel guilty or ashamed to share with anyone else. mercury person admires your strong tolerance towards them. they can be highly persuasive and often times appear manipulating. depending on how it is aspected. usually in the bedroom between the two, mercury person loves dirty talk, kissing, oral, and cuddling up. sex can sometimes be finished more quickly than you're used to, and be careful that the person you are dealing with isn't just using you or sees it as a "friends with benefits" situation. these people are very open to new sexual experiences and can be jumpy.

partner's venus in your 8th house - this one is so good i love love love it. venus person will find themselves in a position where they want to support your lifestyle. some of them might even go out of their way to fund you and spoil you. to them the house person is like their sugar baby. aside from money, this person finds so much beauty in the things you are usually ashamed about. they are able to glamorize the darkness that you might exude to them. as the house person, you grow to have intense ties as the venus person will have immense loyalty towards you and have a "life or death" attitude with you. sometimes this relationship feels surreal because of how hard it clicks. sex-wise, venus person will be able to create a new experience for you everytime. almost feels soul-merging. they will love to neck grab, hold you by your waist, or might even involve toys/costumes, super fantasy-like things. this person will transform your views on sex drastically. venus person can feel very possessive over you and sometimes even forget the bad things you do during the relationship simply because their love feels overpowering.

partner's mars in your 8th house - strong adrenaline rush from the mars person to the house person. sometimes it feels like you have such strong chemistry before you know each other that well. mars is so drawn to the house person that they might do impulsive things just for your attention. this person can match your darkness very well and they have no problem with doing something about settling your issues for you. they don't shy away when you open up, and often times will be protective over you in situations of life or death. in terms of sex, it will feel super intense and the mars person makes sure to go all out for you. they can be unpredictable, and you might often time underestimate what they can do, but they aren't heavy into wasting time. they love hair pulling, face grabs, or penetrations. you both find sex to be a good outlet for pent up feelings, and it definitely is a strong way to show the care between the two.

partner's jupiter in your 8th house - jupiter person will try to point out a lot of the positives through things that have hurted you in the past. they aren't heavy into dwelling on past experiences too much and have more of an optimistic view on life. these people will teach you how to deal with things progressing forward with them, like religiously or spiritually they will open your eyes. these people can also bring an immense influx of money to you and use it to go on vacations and plenty of trips to discover new things and places. you often find that going out with this person is almost healing for you. their energy feels like a breath of fresh air and distracts you from your neglective past. sexually, this person will love butt/thigh grabbing, person might also have bigger behinds or shlongs. feels rejuvenating while you are together. they make you glow in a certain way that other do not. house person finds jupiter person to be very wise and knowledgeable across the board.

partner's saturn in your 8th house - saturn can be tricky but not uncomfortable here. you might feel like this person helps you get your shit together sometimes and see things for the way they are. they will help you understand that building walls is important. between the two of you, this can be a long-lasting relationship and saturn person will be deeply committed. sometimes you might feel that saturn doesn't always understand your emotional state, oftentimes you feel that you cannot always express this to them. they can seem cold, but they are also very experienced in similar things you have dealt with. they offer good perspective and can offer you a stable life in terms of money. sexually, this person might not be too experimental, and worry a lot about if it lives up to your standards. they're more quiet and house person often helps them overcome saturn's shyness to sex. saturn however, will like touching all over your skin, infatuated by your smile, and loves gripping to your ribs. can create a heavily devoted partner.

partner's uranus in your 8th house - uranus person will love to challenege you and make you rewire many stigmas, norms, and traditional values. they love to also connect with your deep-rooted desires, as both of you might have many things in common. this dynamic can be unpredictable sometimes, house person will always see dramatic highs and lows from the uranus person. as the house person, you might like the uranus person covering topics which you find abnormal, however very interesting. sexually, uranus person will have a lot of irregular kinks and desires. usually these people will have prominent veins, have a foot fetish, or might want to indulge in a 3-party act, do it in public, etc. with them they want to break many rules with sex. sometimes this can trigger the house person with their boundaries they have, privacy is also important for the house person, and uranus challenges that.

partner's neptune in your 8th house - neptune person understands the sensitive nature of your volatile state. in a house that gets very dark, neptune matches it but tints it a little differently. you notice that the neptune person almost always has "the answers," but you have to get it out of them almost. as much as a mystery you are, they are also going to be mysterious. they will never overstep and say too much unless you ask from them to. but you notice they bring an old soul energy to you, and they will bring life changing ideas to the table. they will keep you in tune. they love you through your scars as to them it appears as strength. both of you might sense you are equally damaged, but can heal and prosper together. sexually, neptune person can give you a surreal experience. and usually the neptune person knows exactly what to do to please you, as they have a way of reading you through. they will be gentle with you in bed and only step it up if that is what the house person wants. neptune person might have some type of feet kink, or provide a gentle aftercare. interesngly enough, they will always have some fixation on some part of your body. it can seem weird but you find it very cute that they are drawn to it.

thank u for making it this far, i really hope you enjoyed reading some of these. if you feel like this was accurate or inaccurate let me know i would love to hear ur standpoint and do let me know of any other ones you would like me to do. <3

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[niyasruledbyvenus]

Astro Observations

(and maybe even controversial opinions)

Where 4h/cancer is placed can tell you about your home’s size/condition, especially childhood home.

Saturn= small/may feel constricting, Jupiter= large

poorly aspected/malefics/debilitated= ran down home/broken things.

Prey yonis (deer, rat, goat) feel safer in a group & in familiar places. Being by themselves or new places alone can cause anxiety. When out sometimes they feel that they are always in fight or flight or something’s around the corner.

Predator yonis (lion, tiger, snake) may not feel the same way. They may feel sure in themselves and how they can protect themselves. Tiger & snake yonis in particular might feel better off alone. Since both are solitary animals.

Debilitated planets aren’t bad, it just makes the person work a little harder to reap the benefits in that area. Whereas, exaltation comes easy. Which can sometimes make one lazier in that particular area, because there’s no drive. (the same with easy aspects & hard aspects)

For example,

Exalted Pisces Venus (naturally effortless beautiful, “woke up like this” minimal makeup)

Debilitated Venus in Virgo (Cosmetic procedures, tailors, professional makeup, gym trainers, spa, personal stylist/hair stylist)

Venus in Virgo/Scorpio usually tend to be even more beautiful because they actively work to put effort & keep up maintenance.

Mars in Capricorn (wake up early no alarm, straight to the gym, knows exactly their task and when to do it, doesn’t have much trouble with procrastination).

Mars in Cancer/Taurus (might need schedules, alarms, set tasks, mentor/motivator).

Saturn in Libra (gets benefits from hard work right away, not much struggle young, no problem with discipline)

Saturn in Aries/Leo/cancer (rough start in life/a lot of set backs, takes longer to see benefits or gets it after Saturn return/30s, has to actively work on their discipline).

Debilitated Saturn after hard work in younger years, later in life, they usually achieve gains & become a household name.

People tend to say Jupiter is luck. But to me it’s excess. In this world we associate excess=luck. (ie you have a lot of cars, money, children, etc) When it’s not always the case.

For example,

Jupiter in the 7h (Being in a lot of relationships or marriages. But the downside is it doesn’t last because Saturn represents commitment.

Marilyn Monroe multiple divorces

Drake dated a lot of women but no serious relationship.

Jupiter creates a surplus in whatever it touches. But it is not longevity, unless Saturn aspects Jupiter.

A planet that is a benefic can act as a malefic if debilitated & poorly aspected.

If Jupiter is debilitated & poorly aspected it can turn into a giant malefic. Because Jupiter expands what it touches. Rather it’s negativity or positivity.

Some say Mars is where your drive and aggression is. But I see it more so where you get injuries, accidents, or aggression towards yourself or others.

For example,

I’m Aries Ascendant; My Mars/lagnesh is in Virgo/6h. My most serious injuries came from doing mundane tasks around the house. I faced workplace aggression from coworkers & sometimes customers too. Also, I tend to face health issues that affect my daily life. 6h/virgo rules daily activities, physical health, workplace, coworkers.

Mars just went retrograde December 6. I can already see it’s affect on my daily routines/6h. Nonstop nausea, bloating, stomach issues, & headaches everyday. Virgo rules stomach/nervous system. Aries my 1h/Asc rules the head

My whole schedule is out of wack. Today, I dropped my breakfast on the floor and burnt my lunch lol.

Mars, Mercury, Uranus, & Jupiter are all retrograde right now. If you are taking the necessary precautions and your planets are in good dignity, you should be fine. Though it’s still going to be quite frustrating for most people.

Transits mainly do the most damage if you have debilitated or poorly aspected planet that is going retrograde.

Malefics going retrograde to some degree affect almost everyone negatively, but not in the same way. What area varies from chart to chart; the sign/houses it sits in.

Outer planets affect us as a collective. Inner planets affect us personally.

Even though in traditional Vedic/jyotish Uranus, Neptune, Pluto isn’t considered. I still see the planet’s nakshatras/signs/houses in a chart influence a person’s life. Especially, if they aspect personal planets like Sun, Moon, Ascendant.

[fishnapple]

Signs that they are the one for you

This reading is about the signs that show the person you have in mind is the one who is best suited for you and can match you the most. This is not about THE ONE(TM) or your ultimate happiness, but they might very well be that.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

If you are someone who is not always decisive, someone who takes a lot of time to commit to something seriously, someone who needs to weight all the pros and cons to arrive at a decision, then this person will make you step out of that operating mode. They will make you want to commit, fast. You will find yourself making decisions about this person, about this connection a lot easier, taking just a little time.

Sometimes, it will feel like a sudden move, a rash decision on your end. But you being decisive and committing fast is not because you are afraid, worry or want to rush things. This person, this connection, just feels right to you. You don't have to think long and hard or to find excuses and reasons to do something or not do something.

There will be elements of fatefulness surrounding the connection. Your intuition will be in top shape, there will be no illusions muddling up your mind and heart. You will see this person clearly, both their good and bad, and you won't find excuses for their bad nor focus exclusively on their good. There is a willingness to see and to understand each other truthfully. But that doesn't mean you will accept all of their problems and let them be, no, you will want to work with them, trying to help them be a better person, to improve together, to transform together. It's not the "I can fix them" mentality, it's"we can work together."

You will be able to talk freely with each other and discuss everything on your mind. Even when your opinions and viewpoints clash, it won't create conflict between you. You will feel a sense of shared missions, shared dreams, and together, you can achieve those easier, like having two hearts and two minds look in the same direction.

One of the sign that they are the one is that people will view you being together positively. I'm not saying that you should depend on opinions of other people to gauge your relationship. A lot of relationships that are considered ideal by people are actually not that ideal to the people inside those relationships. What I mean is, people will see an improvement in your life when you are together, the good impacts you have on each other will be visible.

GROUP 2

An obvious sign is that you will smile a lot when you are around this person or when you think about them. They just bring joy into your life. Other people would probably comment that you guys are a lot more talkative when together than being with others, a loud couple perhaps?

You will trust this person more easily than other people, there is a sense of familiarity, having experienced the same things, dream the same dreams. You share the same values and life philosophy that makes it easier to navigate life together.

You will want to give gifts to each other, on no special occasion, just because something reminds you of them and vice versa so you want to give that to each other. It will feel natural to share with this person. If you are someone who is independent and used to getting everything by your own efforts. This connection will make you more open to accepting from others and also sharing with others. Instead of "you" and "me", it will be "we".

The energy of this group feels very positive and active, like you guys are building something together. Lots of stones stood upwards, pointing to the same direction, almost like they were about to take flight, towards the sky. "Waking up" or "arise" would be the word.

The revelation that they are the one will hit you suddenly, likely when you're unsure of how to ground the connection, the feeling of uneasiness will keep piling up inside. Until they all fall down over the cliff, leaving behind the tiny sprout of realisation. It will be an overturn. You will feel a new creative energy. By being with this person, you will want to create something, to build something, it might translate to sexual desire. As if a restraint has been removed in your psyche and the energy inside is released and set free.

This person will feel like an answer to your long forgotten questions, a warm meal and a nice rest at the end of a hard day, they will appear in your mind when you're asked what do you see in your future.

GROUP 3

There are two distinct sides here, one is warm and dark, one is cool and light. This person will be the other side of the same coin to you. You will feel a sense of mirroring and contrast with this person. Like chirality, right hand and left hand. You will be able to balance each other out, bringing to the table the traits that the other person lacks, helping each other develop a more balanced psyche.

You will have a grounding effect on this person. As much as they are the one for you, this is the sign that you are the one for them. You will know intuitively how to work with their worries and pains. They may suffer some insomnia, repressed anger and some hidden unknown fears that are hard to express and harder to have someone understand them. But you will be that person. With you, they will feel more safe and grounded enough to work with themselves in a healthy way. And they can do that for you too, remember that you guys are mirroring each other. You just know how to touch the other person in the most caring and considerate way that makes the other person feel safe and anchored. You will probably develop some more healthy habits together, trying to get rid of toxic and unhealthy habits that have their roots in losses and insecurities.

You will be in a constant mode of being both the student and the teacher, learning and guiding each other, together. Sometimes, you can both learn to be more confident in yourself, to express your individuality, having fun, other times, you both will learn the importance of being in a social group, of friendships and how to care for society. How to be a part of something yet still have your freedom. There's no definite role for each person, each has something to share and teach while also has something to learn from the other person. You will have a sense of growth with them. That what you do and what you think matters, not just to your life but bigger, and they will make you more aware of your impact on the world.

Talk of serious, long-term commitment will be early on with this person. Similar to the other groups, you will want to commit, to build a lasting relationship with this person. The idea of having a home together, acting as one unit, and the relationship being sanctioned officially will feel natural to you.

GROUP 4

This person will make you want to dream the "impossible" dreams. Whatever you think as impossible, they will have a way to sway your belief and make you feel like it's possible after all. You will not feel contented anymore with just being small and playing it safe with your life. You will dare to cast your gaze to farther horizon, seeing yourself in a grander way, acting in a more decisive way, which may come as a surprise to the people around.

They will introduce you to many different topics and diverse subjects to widen your perspective and knowledge. They could act a little like a mentor to you, maybe they are someone who has more experience in various areas of life, regardless of their age, who's seen the world more and they are ready to share that with you. Their way is not bossy nor domineering but gentle and affectionate, making you more willing to open up to new ideas. When they're explaining something to you, it will not feel like sitting in a class, hearing the teacher droning on and on, but it will feel like sitting with a friend, eager to share experiences of their newest adventures, lots of giggling, laughing and joking.

In the most positive way, by being with them, you will become more of yourself, light up those dark, forgotten corners inside and embrace them with clarity and self-forgiveness.

I think both of you will bring some baggage and old habits into the relationship at the beginning. Could be a desire for perfection, the desire for control, to force and bend the situation to one's own will. But gradually, those baggage will be lifted and unpacked neatly, transformed into something that can work for both of you. The force that wants to lead, to direct, will be united. Instead of working against each other, you will work together.

Your appearance might even change. Notice how some couples tend to look alike and similar to each other after being committed to each other for some time. It will be a positive change. The state of happiness will be apparent physically.

GROUP 5

You will feel triggered by this person. Every action and word from them will feel like a personal attack, at first. It will be unpleasant, but only when you're not ready to face yourself. And they will be the one to help you with that task. No matter how hard it is, you can count on them to be there for you, to remind you how to be strong and yet vulnerable at the same time.

They will help you free up emotional baggage that you've held on for far too long, lighten your loads so that you can run more freely, see the world more clearly and discover the poetry in living.

Time and space will not be felt when you're connected to this person. No matter where you are, no matter how much space and time is between you, you will feel an inexplicable connection with them. You guys can disconnect for a few months, come back and resume the conversation as if no time has passed at all, you maybe continents apart from each other but the presence of the other person will always be felt. Through the conversations you have with other people, through the lyrics of the song you listen to, through the rain and cloud, through the blanket and cold hands.

You open a window so that the wind can come in at any moment, you will be like that with them. This person will be there when you have the loudest laugh, and when you have the heaviest tears, they will bear witness to them all, without a flinch, without judgement. If at first, you find their words and action harsh and cruel, you will gradually see them differently. You will see them as your pillar of strength and comfort. Has anyone ever dared to be so honest with you like that? Has anyone ever let you be that honest to them like that? If your answer is no, then you will know that this person is the one.

[deadhands69]

Passenger Seat

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab Reader

expanding on this drabble (don't worry if you haven't read it, it's included in this post too) car sex after training with Dynamite

Even pro heroes have to do training sometimes. Unlucky for you, in your semi-monthly training you've been paired up to work with Dynamite from the agency next door. You're absolutely convinced you'll end up dead. 

After an hour of ruthless sparing, you accept you'll probably lose this match. Bakugo hasn't let up a bit.

Finally, in your exhaustion, he pins you to the ground. Arms held over your head, one of his legs pinning both of yours down. Then you feel it.

He's hard. 

You laugh. Looks like you did win after all.

When you initially felt it, you weren’t sure if his erection was from winning or his proximity to you. Katsuki Bakugo would definitely get a victory boner, right?  But when he hung his head in embarrassment, cheeks flushed as red as a strawberry, you took a wild guess. Looking up at him while he bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut cursing himself, you decided to go for it.

Afterall, you’re not the one with anything to lose at this point.

One of your hands, clasped under his, reached to brush lightly on his wrist. At this he looked up, eyes making contact with yours. You glanced towards the door and back at him. He nodded.

The shuffle out was the most awkward part. While standing back up, he pulled you up with him. Grabbing both hands and keeping you close. To anyone else, it looked polite. Sportsman-like. But you knew better.

Then, you turned, still allowing him to stay close and cover his very obvious arousal while you made the increasingly long walk to the coat rack. Once he had his jacket in hand, you were good to go. 

The two of you rushed down the stairs to the parking garage. As soon as he pulled you into his car, you knew neither of you could wait any longer.

He climbed in after you, tipping the passenger seat as far back as it would go. 

Now he has you in the same position as earlier. One of his arms pressing both of yours into the headrest above you while the other grips your hip to position you closer to him. You can feel him through his hero suit as he relentlessly grinds into you.

Good thing his windows are tinted.

Your combined breath makes the windows fog up. You feel yourself getting close, and the two of you are still fully clothed. 

Almost like he could read your mind, Bakugo groans at you. “Take these off,” pulling at your pants. He presses up, giving you just enough space to slide them to your feet while he unbuckles his belt and pulls himself out. 

Leaning back in, his tip explores your entrance.

“This okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you tip your hips in an effort to push him in.

“Always wanted to do this,” he breathes into your ear, “fuck in my car.”

“You haven’t?” 

In a quick but smooth motion, he slides halfway into you.

“Have now,” he smirks as you gasp, gripping his shoulders.

After a solid hour of non-stop sparing, being pressed into his comfortable passenger seat while he stretches you around him feels amazing. You need more of him. 

“What, are you going to actually fuck me or just stay there?” you watch his crimson eyes light up at your taunt.

“You gotta be patient, [your hero name],” he says but you couldn’t miss that he shoves himself fully in you. Leaning back in, he’s so close you can feel his breath against your neck as he whispers, “don’t worry, I’ll fuck you better than any extra ever has.”

“We’ll see about that.”

A lot of talk, but he doesn’t disappoint.

He starts slow but rough. Spacing his thrusts out to tease you, once he realizes how much you want it. His hero costume has so many straps and buckles to hold onto. You grip the orange ones crossing his chest, desperately pulling him harder into you. Within a few minutes, you’ve given up any front you once had and practically beg for it.

“Faster,” you moan in his ear, “need more of you.”

That’s all he needed to hear. At that, doubles his speed. Fucking you even harder into the seat while you wrap your legs around his back. Your hands move down to the sides of the plush seat, gripping them as you half scream in his ear. Toes curling as you cream hard on him. 

Now that his job is done, he takes it as a cue that it’s his turn. Humping hard into you while you practically convulse under him. You feel yourself gushing with both of your cum, suddenly aware of how much of a mess you both made.

“It’s fine,” he laughs sliding out of you and pulling his pants up, “the seats are leather. I can just clean it.”

He climbs over to the driver’s seat, giving you a chance to put your own clothes back on.

“I’ll give you a ride to your agency,”

“That’s fine, it’s three blocks away. I can walk.”

He pretends not to hear you, backing out of the spot anyway.

After a block of comfortable silence, he breaks it.

“The best?” he asks, smirking like he already knows the answer.

“Best what?”

“Was I the best, yes or no?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease, “maybe we’ll have to try again and see.”

m.list

thanks @amande-mochin @bakemonogatarii and @blahblahblahhhhhhhhhhhhhh for asking for this one

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

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♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[yawnderu]

Sharing an air bnb with Nikto during mandatory leave because you trust each other. Finally getting to see his face, cuddling in a big jacuzzi tub.

Gaining Nikto's trust wasn't easy. The behemoth of a man had a fragmented mind, too broken from Zakhaev's torture, and yet the utmost effort you put into getting to know him proved fruitful after months.

“Jesus fuck. Put that thing away, Misha.” Your attempts at shielding your eyes are met with a laugh, feeling the water shift around your body, a mass of pure warm muscle pressing on your side. 

“... Is it hidden now?” His eyes crinkle, the smile of pure amusement hidden beneath his mask. Nikto doesn’t feel uncomfortable with nudity, and while joining you in the jacuzzi only happened because of the vodka warming his stomach up and giving him liquid courage, he was enjoying your reaction.

“Да. You can look now.” Your fingers part in front of your eyes, glancing up at him before looking down, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you realize the bubbles are covering his lower body. 

“I wasn’t expecting to be greeted by… cock.” Despite the initial surprise, there’s nothing but pure mirth dancing with your words. You feel his arm drape over your shoulder, pulling you closer, the smell of hard liquor hitting your nose, explaining why he’s being touchier than usual. 

“You’re welcome.” Despite how unpleasant and rowdy Nikto can be, your company served as a soothing balm, a small break from all the chaos going on in his head. There’s hesitation in his actions as he reaches towards the straps of his mask, his fingers stilling for a few seconds, your curious eyes looking up at him with an innocence that he finds endearing. 

“I take it off sometimes.” Not exactly a lie, yet not exactly the trust either— Nikto does remove his mask, though never in the presence of anyone else. The fear of getting judged for his face scars will always be there, and it took him months to gather the courage to even think about showing it to you.

The straps of his mask are removed with little to no effort, yet he doesn’t fully remove the mask yet. You can see the fear and doubt dancing within his light blue eyes as he holds the rough material, the only barrier between both of you. “I’m not going to judge, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Your reassurance is accompanied by your hand running up and down his back, gentle caresses that he never allowed himself to receive from anyone, until you came along. It seemed to be the only confirmation he needed, as the mask slips off, placed on a table nearby before he finally turns to look at you. 

You admire his features for the first time, your eyes running all over his face for a few seconds. Nikto has a slightly crooked nose —likely from being broken one too many times—, the skin on his face more pale than the rest of his body, and the scars lingering all over his face. They look like chemical burns, running from his chin, up to his forehead, his skin tainted in a light red color. 

“You look pretty.” Pretty. The word almost makes him scoff, his gaze drifting around the jacuzzi before looking back at you, pure vulnerability in his expression. 

“I’m serious.” You insist, leaning closer to him before your wet hand reaches up, cupping his cheek. The suddenness of your actions is almost enough to make him flinch, and yet he decides to stay still, a part of him craving the praise after so many years of being lonely, of being broken. 

Your thumb runs along his skin, being extra careful with his scars, even if they no longer hurt physically. The reverence in your eyes mirrors his, nothing but pure trust and worship displayed in your actions. Your soft finger runs across his cracked bottom lip, taking your time to continue admiring his features before he closes the distance, his lips crashing against yours.

[rubysunnday]

take my hand

summary: as much as y/n appreciates anthony's matchmaking efforts, it's hard to accept them when he's the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

a/n: 4.4k of pure angst/fluff and, yes, smut

Promenading was probably one of the most pointless endeavours the ton insisted on participating in. Miss Y/N Moore loved going on walks around the city. But when she was surrounded by the ton and their watching eyes and gossiping mouths, it was hard to enjoy anything.

"Stop glowering," her mother hissed, elbowing her in the side. "Smile."

Y/N sighed. But she raised her chin and smiled politely as they walked past the Featherington family.

There was only one reason why her mother had forced her out of the house: the Earl of Newburgh.

He'd been courting Y/N since the second week of the season. They'd danced together at almost every ball, gone to museum visits together and he'd had dinner at her house. Twice.

They were practically engaged in the eyes of the ton.

Yet Y/N wasn't happy. She liked the earl, there was nothing wrong with him. He was a lovely man. But there was no spark between them. Their relationship just felt like a good friendship.

She had never confessed it to her mother, however. If she did, Y/N was certain her mother would swoon.

"I do not see the earl anywhere," her mother muttered, rising up on to her tiptoes.

Y/N tugged on her arm and forced her back down. "He might not be here yet, mama."

"He did invite you to promenade with him, yes?"

"Yes -"

"Then why is he not here?"

Y/N kept quiet. Sometimes, when her mother got annoyed, she talked to herself, grumbling about anything and everything. It was easier to let her talk aloud and not acknowledge anything - otherwise they'd end up in a fight and Y/N knew how they always ended.

As her mother kept rattling on, Y/N gazed across the crowd gathered down by the lake. There were awnings pitched up along the edge of the clearing, providing shade to the families sitting under them. It was a beautiful day and the lake had numerous boats upon it, gently gliding over the water.

Y/N's roving gaze moved past and then came back to an awning nearest the lake. It, and the carriage, were both light blue. The carriage door boasted the Bridgerton family crest and Y/N's heart stuttered.

It was as if he knew she was looking.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton looked up. He was sat on a blanket, his youngest sister Hyacinth sat by him, tucked into his side. They were making a daisy chain together. It snaked down Anthony's legs, growing longer as Hyacinth added to it.

It was as if the world stopped for a moment, blurring everything out except Anthony.

"Y/N, darling!"

Y/N jumped slightly. She turned and saw the Earl of Newburgh walking towards her, her mother practically hanging off his arm.

"I found him!"

Y/N tried not to cringe. She kept her composure and smiled at the earl, curtseying as he approached. "My Lord."

"Would you care to promenade with me, Miss Moore?" He asked, smiling at her as he offered her his arm.

"I would love to," she replied, threading her arm through his.

Her mother giggled. Giggled. Y/N tried not to sigh but her composure must've slipped as the Earl patted her hand sympathetically.

They walked down the grass, past the families and toward the water. Y/N could feel guilt eating at her every time she glanced at the earl. She didn't want to inconvience him or hurt his feelings. But she also didn't want to trap him in a marriage that was one sided.

"Miss Moore -"

"My lord -"

They both stopped abruptly, hearing the other speak. The earl laughed, shaking his head.

"Please, go first, Miss Moore."

Y/N sighed. "My lord, I apologise but I... I would rather we remain friends than take this any further. I value you and our friendship," she added quickly, "but I just do not feel any..."

"Spark?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "I know I am running out of time," she said quietly. "And any other woman would accept your suit and gladly become a countess. But I yearn for a love match, as foolish as that might seem. I want what so many of the ton have and I am not quite ready to give up on that idea yet."

"I do not think you should either," the earl replied. He took her hand in his. "We all deserve a chance at true love, Miss Moore. I can only hope you find it."

"As do I, my lord." She curtseyed. "I hope to see you around."

It was as if her mother knew what had just happened. As the earl walked away, Y/N turned, glancing over at her. She could see the fury on her face even from this far away. Y/N swallowed as she began to walk back to her mother, bracing herself for the fallout.

"Miss Moore!"

She stilled. The voice as achingly familiar. She could smell him and it filled her with a weird warmth.

Y/N turned. Anthony Bridgerton was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a dark blue jacket.

"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, curtseying.

Anthony smiled. "I was Anthony last week," he said, moving closer.

"My mother is watching," Y/N replied softly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. "I just ended things with the Earl of Newburgh."

"Why?"

Y/N turned back to face him. She shrugged. "There was no spark."

Anthony nodded once. He glanced over her shoulder. "Well, would you like to come out onto the lake with me?" He asked, extending his hand out. "To escape your mother for a moment?"

Y/N looked at his bare hand. Slowly, she placed her own bare hand in his, letting him guide her hand to the crook of his elbow. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the dark blue wool of his jacket.

They began to walk towards the dock set up on the edge of the lake. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, sparkling off the water for a moment before disappearing again.

Anthony held her hand as she stepped into the boat. He kept her steady as it rocked, not letting go until she did. Y/N sat down on the chair built into the boat. Anthony sat down opposite her, grabbing the oars.

One of the workers untied them from the dock and gave them a gentle push out onto the lake. Anthony began to row, the oars splashing in and out of the water. Y/N sighed, relaxing back against the cushions, grateful to have escaped her mother's wrath for a moment.

Anthony was quiet for a while. He rowed them away from the dock, weaving through the other boats on the lake.

"What made you deny the earl?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Y/N exhaled softly, letting her hand trail through the water. "There was no spark," she replied. "I felt nothing but friendship towards him."

"What is it you look for?"

"A love match," Y/N replied, taking her hand out the water and shaking the droplets off. "Despite how foolish it may seem, I yearn for a love match. One that matches the stories I read when I was younger. Whilst I know it will probably never happen, younger me isn't quite ready to give up on the idea yet."

"I do not think it foolish," Anthony said softly. He slowed the oars, holding them loosely in his hands. "Nor do I think you should give up on it."

Y/N found his gaze. The intensity of it almost took her breath away.

"I must admit, however, that I do not think the earl would have made a good match."

His words snatched her out of her dream. Y/N stared at him, affronted.

"Whatever does that mean?" She asked.

"Well, he lives in Scotland -"

"Do you have some personal vendetta against Scotland?"

"Other than the bagpies and the tartan and the constant rain?"

"Anthony, have you ever been to Scotland in your life?"

"Colin has."

Y/N sighed. "Your brother does not count." She paused. "Is Scotland the only reason?"

"Oh, I have a whole list."

"Oh for goodness sake."

Y/N knew Anthony had a soft spot for her. They'd been friends since she'd come out two years previously. He'd been a desired match despite his whining about not wanting a wife. Her mother had forced them to dance together numerous times and soon a friendship had formed.

Even if that friendship sometimes comprised of a very judgy viscount who seemed to make who Y/N was courting his business.

"Anthony, when will you realise that you cannot control who I court?" Y/N asked softly.

Anthony began rowing them back to the dock. "I do not claim to try to."

"But you do."

"If you want me to stop, you need only ask."

"Anthony, that's not what..." Y/N sighed heavily. "I do not get a lot of choice in this world, please stop trying to control the one thing I do get to choose."

"I was not aware I was," Anthony replied, brow furrowing.

Y/N didn't want to say it. But she knew she had to.

"Well, you are," she replied gently. "I appreciate the concern but... I do not have long left to find my true love. And you, Viscount Bridgerton, are not helping things."

She knew it was a low blow. All Anthony wanted to do was protect her. But he kept scaring off countless suitors - sometimes before Y/N could even speak to them. It was a miracle the earl had managed to bypass Anthony at all.

The boat hit the dock. Y/N looked at Anthony and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat and stood up, pulling his jacket down.

Anthony climbed out the boat and crouched down, tying the rope back to the dock. He said nothing. Y/N hated the silence. She'd upset him, she knew that.

But she could not allow him to keep matchmaking for her when the only one she wanted was him. It hurt to see him try to marry her off to another man. All she wanted to do was be with him.

She'd denied it for months. The feelings that had begun to blossom inside her. They had become uncontrollable now, taking over her entire being whenever she saw him.

She was in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

The man who was against love, against marriage, against happy ever afters. He had made his intentions clear and Y/N knew he was not going to back down on them for her.

Her heart belonged to him and he didn't even know it.

Anthony held out his hand to her. "Miss Moore."

"Lord Bridgerton." She placed her hand in his.

Y/N stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. As she did so, she glanced down at their hands, fingers still holding on to one another.

Neither one of them wanted to let go. Even as the seconds ticked by. Anthony ran his thumb along her knuckles, hovering over the ring she wore on her middle finger.

Then, as if struck by lighting, they pulled apart. Y/N and Anthony both took a step back together, not realising another couple were directly behind them.

There was a yelp of surprise. It was a tangle of limbs and ropes and suddenly, Y/N found herself hitting the water. For a moment, she was blinded, but then she found her way upright and surfaced.

She turned her head, catching the splash as Anthony awkwardly surfaced from the depths of the lake, arms wheeling. The other man they'd knocked into the water was glowering at them but Y/N didn't care.

In fact, she was finding the entire situation highly amusing.

A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock, her mother among them. Anthony was angrily shedding his jacket and cravat, slinging them into the water.

Y/N made the mistake of looking over.

His white shirt was near see through thanks to the water. It clung to his torso, highlighting the muscles and giving her a near clear view of everything.

Her cheeks began to burn and Y/N turned away quickly.

"Anthony, are you okay?"

Y/N looked up at the dock. Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony's sister, was stood at the edge, looking down at them, his brother Benedict next to them.

Benedict looked as amused as Y/N did at the whole situation.

"No," he grunted. "This idiot decided to tie his boat where there was no space!"

"You walked into me, my lord!"

Y/N rolled her eyes as the two man began to bicker. She half swam, half waded away back to the dock. The crowd moved back as she put her hands on the edge and pushed herself up onto it, gratefully accepting Benedict's help as he pulled her back onto dry land.

She knew she looked a mess. Her dress was covered in grime from the lake and there was a stray twig stuck in her hair. Yet she didn't seem to care.

Y/N shook her head, pulling the twig out. She looked up as Benedict straightened, giving her a smile. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet

Y/N watched as Benedict crouched back down and offered a hand to his brother. Anthony slapped it aside, glowering at Benedict as he laughed at his brother's misfortune.

Anthony clambered back up onto the dock and snatched a towel from one of the workers hovering hesitantly nearby. He marched off, giving Y/N a tilt of the head as he passed by.

Y/N watched him leave. A shiver danced through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself. A warm jacket landed around her shoulders.

"So you have a reason to come by," Benedict whispered in her ear as he stepped back.

Y/N smiled up at him, pulling the jacket tight around her.

She knocked on the front door of Bridgerton house, Benedict's freshly laundered jacket in her hand. It wasn't long before the butler opened the door and ushered her inside, taking her calling card.

Y/N waited in the foyer for a moment, admiring the paintings and the walls. Then, the butler appeared again and guided her up the stairs to the drawing room.

"Y/N!"

She'd barely taken one step inside the room before Hyacinth came barreling at her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Hyacinth," Violet admonished, hurrying over. "Please do not ambush Miss Moore."

Hyacinth beamed up at Y/N before skipping away, back to her marbles.

"Miss Moore - Y/N," Violet corrected, seeing Y/N open her mouth to do so, "what do we owe the pleasure?"

Y/N held up the jacket. "I believe this is your son's." She paused. "The artistic one."

Violet chuckled, taking the jacket from Y/N. "Thank you," she replied. "I do apologise for what -"

"Oh, it was not anyone's fault," Y/N said, shrugging. "A funny accident was all it was."

Violet sighed. "I wish Anthony saw it that way. He is still rather angry at being pushed into the lake."

Y/N knew that, whilst he probably was angry at that, it wasn't the only thing. Yet, she did not say so aloud.

"I apologise for the lack of people here," Violet continued. "All of them are out. Bar Anthony, he's in his office."

"Not to worry, I only came to drop the jacket off," Y/N replied. She paused, hesitating to ask her next question.

"What is it, Y/N?" Violet asked, her mother's instinct isntantly reading the heistation on Y/N's face.

"I may have said some things to your son that upset him," she admitted softly. "I should not have done so but..." She sighed. "I cannot explain it myself, to be honest."

Violet nodded, eyes full of understanding. "You do not need to. Your relationship with Anthony is a special one. I do hope that this does not ruin it." Violet smiled. "I always think it best to be honest with someone, Y/N. Even if it's scary. It almost always helps things."

Y/N nodded. "Thank you."

As she turned to go, Violet called her name, halting her.

"His office is behind the stairs," Violet said.

Y/N smiled at the older woman. She turned and made her way down the stairs. As she got to the bottom, she turned to the right instead of heading for the front door.

It was easy to spot Anthony's office. The door was slightly ajar and she could see his jacket, abandoned on a chair by the fireplace.

Y/N knocked gently on the door.

"Just a moment, Hy," Anthony called.

Y/N stepped in, peering round the door, holding on to the edge. "Should I be flattered that you assumed I was Hyacinth?"

Anthony looked up sharply, his quill scratching along the parchment in one, thick, ink heavy line. "Miss Moore."

"I believe it was Y/N the other day," she replied, throwing his own words back at him, hoping to lighten the tension.

It didn't work.

"Why are you here?" Anthony asked, gripping his quill tightly.

"I came to return Benedict's jacket," she replied.

His reaction was obvious, despite how hard he tried to hide it. His shoulders slumped and his demeanour changed.

"Ah," Anthony replied, turning back to his papers. "Did you get lost?"

"I came to see you as well," Y/N replied. She was still hiding behind the door. "But only if you'll hear me out."

"I might."

"And if you stop being so rude."

At that, Anthony looked up again. He stood up, pushing back his chair. "What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet and opening the doors.

"To apologise for what I said," Y/N replied, edging further into the room. "I was stressed amongst many other things and I took it out on you. Of course I value your opinion and I appreciate your assistance."

"You did not seem to the other day."

"Well, I was having conflicting feelings."

Anthony scoffed. Y/N watched him pour out a glass of whiskey and drink it in one.

Y/N sighed softly. She walked further into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. "The truth is, Anthony, that... as much as I appreciate your matchmaking skills and your assistance with this whole thing I..." Y/N trailed off.

She could still change her mind. She could still lie to him, claim innocence.

But she didn't want to.

Now was her chance to tell him. To let it all out. It would hurt. The denial would sting. But she would get over it. And then maybe, she could find another match.

"I cannot have the man I love trying to marry me off to other men when the only one I want is him."

Anthony's glass clinked against the bottle he was holding. He went very still, frozen mid-pour. Y/N let the confession settle, the silence grow. She moved closer to him, the heels of her shoes against the wooden floor the loudest sound she'd ever heard.

"I can’t get you out of my head," she admitted softly. "You haunt my dreams at night and in the day. I find myself searching for you where ever I go, yearning just to hear your voice, to feel your hand in mine… your lips against my skin.

"You torment my very being. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear you there’s a spark inside me that demands to be let out. A spark that doesn’t exist with anyone but you, Anthony."

Anthony set the bottle down and turned to face her. Y/N didn't know how she expected him to react but the tears brimming in his eyes was not high on the list.

"I know that this might not be what you wish to happen," she added quickly, stepping even closer, "and if that is the case, I will walk away right now and forget this ever happened." She paused, breathing deeply. "But I think there is something, deep down inside, that yearns for this too."

That god awful silence fell again. The clock chimed from the mantle place, indicating that it was inching close to six o'clock. Anthony stared at her. Y/N stared at him. She let her fingers grip her skirt tightly.

"I will admit," Anthony said softly, his voice hoarse, "that I have felt something too. For a long time I have denied it." He swallowed. "I loved my father deeply and his loss aches even today. I fear to love anyone else as much or to allow anyone to love me as much because I do not wish to inflict that ache on anyone else.

"But what I have discovered since meeting you, Y/N Moore, is that the ache means that the love was so great, it cannot be put into words. We know what happens in the end, yet we love anyway. It has taken me a long time to accept that. To accept that falling in love will only mean more pain, more heart ache. But for you, I am willing to accept that. For you, I am willing to love again."

Y/N couldn't breathe. At some point during Anthony's confession, her breath had been stolen away by his words.

Here they were, baring their open and broken souls to one another. It shouldn't have felt this good. It shouldn't have brought her the relief it was.

Anthony stepped closer. Y/N followed his gaze, never breaking away. He lowered his lips to hers. It was slow and delicate yet the desire was there, the need for more was there. He pressed hard, pushing her lips apart slightly, wanting even more.

Then, they broke apart. Anthony took a step back. Y/N looked at him, breathing heavily. Anthony looked at her, his dark eyes burning into her soul.

There was a moment of stillness. A moment of calm.

Then Anthony surged forward, as did Y/N. They collide. His hands wrapped around her waist as he captured her lips again. They were desperate to devour one another, to know each others bodies, to feel one another after denying their feelings for so long.

Anthony lifted Y/N up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never once breaking their kiss. He walked back and sat her on the desk, knocking over trinkets and piles of papers. His hands were frantic, desperately undoing the hooks at the back of her dress as she undid his waistcoat.

Desire coursed through them. The need to hold one another overwhelming them both. Y/N's dress fell down from her shoulders and ended up on the floor, forgotten.

As Anthony stepped back, Y/N jumped off the desk and pulled Anthony forward by his cravat. She smiled, licking her swollen lips as she pushed him down until he was kneeling in front of her.

Anthony chuckled, his hands reaching up and pulling down her stockings from around her thighs. Her drawers followed next. Anthony's hands danced over her hips and upper thighs as he guided the material down.

Y/N's hands caressed his face and combed through his hair with her fingers as he undressed her and Anthony tried not to moan in delight. He paused as her hands came around his throat, undoing the cravat and then drifting down to his shirt.

Teasingly, Y/N pulled the edge up, letting her nail lightly drag across his skin. A tremor went through his body, desire flaring between his legs. The shirt landed on the floor next to her dress.

Anthony paused, looking at her. “I will stop if you want me to,” he said softly.

"Please don’t.”

Anthony realised just how much he liked her begging.

Y/N lowered herself to her knees, looking Anthony in the eye. He recognised the look in her eyes and he slowly lowered himself down to the floor, the rug brushing his bare back.

She knelt over him, fingers dancing over his chest. Her hands moved down, brushing between his legs. He nearly came undone there and then. Y/N undid his trousers, sliding the fabric down his legs until they were both exposed.

Y/N lowered herself onto him, a sweetness growing between her legs as she did so. She yearned to reach down and relieve it. Instead, she straightened up, resting on top of Anthony. He tilted his head back, a groan burning in his throat. He let her warm to him, to his touch, and then he arched up slightly, encouraging her movements. Y/N moved with him, their limbs becoming one, entangling with the other.

Anthony reached the horizon of his desire, feeling it's release all over. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, breathing hard. She leant down, kissing his lips, the space behind his ear, his collarbone. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, taking in every mole, every detail.

Anthony took her face in his hands. He gently guided her up, until they were both kneeling again. Then, he pushed her backwards, letting her lower herself onto the floor. Y/N laid on the rug, looking up at Anthony, her eyes caught in his gaze. He knelt over her, his knees either side of her waist, his knee brushing her bare skin.

He smirked as slowly lowered himself downward, caressing every part of her body as he went. His hands ran over her covered breasts, hovering for a moment, before moving down to her stomach. He paused at her thighs and then, when he heard her whimper, went down further, to the sweet spot that yearned to be touched.

Y/N splayed her hands out against the rug as the sweetness between her thighs was eased by hands that knew exactly what to do and a tongue that knew just where to touch.

She didn't even hear the noises she made, so absorbed in the feeling of Anthony's fingers inside her. Her hips bucked up and he pushed them back to the floor, resting his other hand against her abdomen.

Needing something to grasp onto, Y/N reached for his hand. Anthony found it and gripped it tightly, riding with her as each surge of breath came in quick succession.

Y/N arched up, her head tilted back, exposing her throat, as she crested the wave of her release. Anthony finished off as she fell back against the rug, her skin glowing with sweat.

He laid down next to her, his hand coming to lie against her chest. He could feel her heart beating through the corset she still wore.

Neither one spoke - they didn’t need to. Y/N closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling into Anthony’s neck and breathing in deeply. His cologne was stronger there, evidently where he’d rolled it on that morning. Anthony’s thumb rubbed back and forth along her back.

In stark contrast from the hunger and desire that had gripped them moments earlier, they were both settled now. Anthony’s kiss was soft on her cheek, his hands gentle as he caressed her bare skin. Y/N found herself drawing circles on his bare back, following imaginary lines along the divot of his spine.

She sighed softly and relaxed further into his embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to Anthony’s heart beating in time with hers.

She awoke hours later. The candles had burnt down and the sky was dark outside the window. She was still in Anthony’s embrace, his hand lazily flung across her stomach, fingers on her thigh. She turned her head to look at him and he blinked at her sleepily, his hair mussed.

“I suspect I might have to marry you now,” Anthony whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I suspect you might, Lord Bridgerton” Y/N replied, smiling back. She brushed her hand through his hair. “Luckily for you, I’m all yours.”

“Lucky for me indeed,” Anthony murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. Slowly. Deliberately.

For they had all the time in the world now.

[theostrophywife]

my collar.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: she's my collar by gorillaz (feat. kali uchis)

author's note: sometimes theo just needs to be put in his place and i'm more than happy to deliver that 😏

It was heinous.

It was criminal. 

It was downright torturous.

Your boyfriend leaned over, his lips grazing your earlobe as he lowered his voice to a husky, seductive tone. “Are you okay, principessa? You seem a little distracted.” 

Crimson colored your cheeks as you straightened against the wingback chair, clearing your throat while you looked around the table, which was currently occupied by your closest friends. All of which were none the wiser to the effect Theo had on you tonight. 

“I’m fine,” you squeaked out. 

“Really?” Theo drawled, sliding his hand down your thigh and squeezing firmly. “Because you haven’t stopped shaking your leg since dinner started. A shame. Malfoy flew in a private chef from France. He really wants to impress his girl. I know what that’s like.” 

You inhaled sharply as his hand trailed higher, his rough and calloused fingers slipping underneath the slit of your dress. “Teddy, please…” 

“Begging already, dolcezza? I thought we agreed to save that for the bedroom.” 

The teasing and taunting, the push and pull, the cat and mouse routine between you and Theo had been constant all night. Punishment for turning down his proposal for a quickie before dinner. It was hard enough to say no to Theo on a normal day, but declining your boyfriend’s proposition of hot, frantic sex while he looked absolutely sinful in a custom three piece suit was nearly impossible. Not to mention painful. 

Still, if you’d taken him up on the offer, you most likely would’ve never made it to dinner. You couldn’t do that to Draco. He needed emotional support. Tonight was his first time integrating Hermione into your friend group and you promised that you’d do everything in your power to make her feel welcome. 

With a sigh, you pried Theo’s fingers off of your thigh. “Behave, Theodore.” Your boyfriend pouted like a petulant child. “Draco needs us.” 

You nodded towards the blonde who looked equally panicked and appalled while Blaise recounted embarrassing stories to Hermione. The golden girl seemed amused by the antics, but Malfoy was anything but. 

“Save him before he ruptures a blood vessel,” you murmured to your boyfriend. For good measure, you batted your lashes up at him and gave him a look that he couldn’t refuse. “Please, baby.” 

Theo sighed, mumbling in Italian under his breath. “Gentlemen. Care for a cigar?” 

Thankfully, Zabini’s plan to embarrass the hell out of Draco was momentarily forgotten. Crisis averted. Draco shot you a grateful look, knowing that you were most likely behind the save. Salazar knows that Theo would’ve delighted in the effort of sullying his oldest friend’s reputation if he hadn’t been distracted. 

The boys rose from their chairs, excusing themselves from the room. Theo lingered beside you, dipping his head to place a kiss right underneath your jaw. He sucked lightly on the sweet spot and smirked as you melted against him. The bastard was playing dirty. 

“You owe me for that, cara mia.” 

Desire bloomed in your core, flooding heat through your body as you peered at your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but admire him in his suit. The midnight blue fabric draped over his tall and lean figure like your own personal gift and the deep stormy color brought out his eyes. You flushed as he turned, training his intense gaze on you like he was savoring the sight. With a cheeky grin, Theo shot you a wink before slipping out the door. 

Beside you, Pansy tutted in disapproval. “Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.” 

You flushed as Hermione bit back a grin. The curly haired witch patted your hand. “You have my sympathy. When I first saw Draco in a suit, I nearly spilled wine all over myself.” 

“See, Pans. I’m not the only one,” you murmured in self-defense. “I can’t help it.” 

Pansy shook her head, her glossy bob grazing her chin. “You can and you will. Don’t let Nott turn you into a simpering mess. The Y/N I know would bring a man to his knees.” 

Hermione nodded in agreement. “I think Pansy’s right. You should show Theo who’s really in control.” 

You smirked as an idea started forming in your head. “You’re more devious than you look, aren’t you, Granger?” Hermione flashed you an innocent smile, which made you laugh. Draco had his work cut out for him. You liked her all the more for it. “You two have a point. Maybe I’ll give my boyfriend a taste of his own medicine tonight.” 

Once your mind was made up, the three of you moved on to more important topics. You were fascinated to hear about Hermione’s work on curing lycanthropy while she was equally curious about the proposed laws that you were in the process of bringing before the Wizengamot. The bill was a passion project of yours because it would give rights and protections to muggle born wizards and witches that had never been afforded to them before. You were ready to fight tooth and nail to see it come to fruition. 

Needless to say, you were a little too passionate about it. The last time Rita Skeeter interviewed you under the guise of bringing light to the cause, you nearly strangled the sneaky little witch for taking more interest in your romantic relationship than the work you were trying to achieve. You were glad that Pansy worked her high society charm and publicity experience to diffuse the situation. 

In the end, she bribed and threatened the proper people to have the story killed. It was a blessing in disguise since you ended up giving exclusive rights to the Quibbler, which was now spearheaded by your old classmate Luna. She truly did the story justice. As a bonus, her tenacity seemed to have caught the attention of the pickiest witch you knew. No matter how many times Pansy denied it, you knew your friend was smitten. 

“Babe, you should take your own advice and just ask Luna out already.” 

Your friend nearly choked on her wine. Hermione watched the interaction with an amused expression. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she turned over to Pansy. “I happen to know that you’re just her type.” 

Never in your life had you seen Pansy Parkinson blush that furiously. She caught herself, holding her head high in that aristocratic way of hers. “Of course I’m her type,” your friend declared in a haughty tone. “I’m everyone’s type.” 

You and Hermione looked at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Pansy cracked a smile and laughed along. The three of you were in full hysterics by the time the boys came back. 

Theo slipped back into his seat, squeezing your shoulder gently. “What’s so funny, dolcezza?” 

“Girl talk,” Hermione answered on your behalf. “It’s not for you boys to hear.” 

You nodded in between giggles. “What Granger said.”

Draco groaned. “Bloody hell, they’re unionizing.” 

Your boyfriend raised a brow. He placed his hand back on your thigh, resuming the torturous contact from earlier in the night. “Keeping secrets from me now, Y/N?” 

You plastered a saccharine sweet smile on your face. Theo observed curiously as you peeled his fingers from your leg before firmly holding his hand. “I thought you liked a little mystery, baby.” 

Theo swallowed thickly as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. He held his breath while you pressed your palm against his chest, twirling his tie between red painted fingernails. You lowered your voice into a dark, seductive tone. “Have I told you how good you look tonight? I could just eat you up.” 

Lust blown eyes stared back at you, those familiar piercing blue irises completely swallowed by darkness. Theo shifted in his seat as his gaze dropped down to your mouth. You flashed him an innocent smile before releasing his tie and returning to the conversation happening around you. You could feel that burning gaze on you as you laughed and talked with Pansy and Mattheo. 

For the rest of the dinner, you kept up the nonchalant act. You mustered every ounce of self-control within you and rebuffed all of Theo’s advances. Every time he leaned in for a kiss, you gave him your cheek instead. When the group moved to the sitting room, you walked by his side instead of leading the way because you knew Theo would take advantage and smack your ass when no one was looking. To his surprise, you slapped his backside with a sly little smirk, causing him to glance over at you in shock. 

By the time you were seated on the expensive velvet couch, Theo was practically jittering. His knee bounced beside you as Hermione continued telling you about the Paris trip Draco had planned. Without looking at him, you placed a hand on your boyfriend’s leg and stopped his anxious bouncing. He sighed beside you, no doubt pouting like a petulant child. Yet you didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement, which only made him more desperate. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Theo whispered into your ear. “You can devour me all you’d like, cara mia.”

You shook your head. “We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet, my love.” 

When Draco brought out a spread of chocolate covered strawberries, the opportunity to tease Theo even more quite literally presented itself on a silver platter. You pinched the ripe fruit between your fingers before wrapping your lips around it. Theo watched with rapt attention as you took a slow, deliberate bite, making a whole show of sucking and licking off the chocolate. He gripped the armchair so hard that his knuckles turned white from the strained effort. 

You bit back a smirk as he crossed his legs and tried not to groan. It was obvious that you had the upper hand now. Theo was barely paying attention to whatever anecdote Enzo and Mattheo were rambling to him about. Those electric eyes were trained on you as you picked up another strawberry. 

“Want a bite, Teddy?” you asked lovingly. “They’re sweet.” 

Theo sucked in a breath before nodding slowly. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment. You offered the fruit to him, cradling his cheek gently as he wrapped his lips around the strawberry in a suggestive manner. Theo kept eye contact as he sucked the white chocolate off. You stared back, smiling sweetly as he devoured the fruit in one bite. He seemed frustrated at your unaffected expression, but you were determined not to break. You were going to come out on top tonight. In more ways than one. 

Usually, the two of you would be the first to leave. You rarely made it through an entire night without Theo dragging you into the floo so you could tear each other apart back at your shared flat. Tonight was different though. You lasted all the way through midnight, forcing yourself to laugh and chat with your friends as you ignored your boyfriend’s fuck me eyes from across the room. 

For that, you made sure you were the last to leave. Theo was convinced he was slowly dying. As soon as the two of you stepped through the floor, your boyfriend scrambled towards your direction, itching to get his hands all over you. 

You stepped out of his reach and shook your head. “I didn’t say you could touch me.” 

Theo looked utterly confused. “I’ve never needed permission before.” 

You chuckled darkly. “You really think I’d reward you for acting like a brat all night? You’re going to learn that it’s a bad idea to tease me like that in front of all of our friends.” Theo gaped at your words. “Now, sit. You can use this time to think about what you’ve done.” 

“Dolcezza, please —“

”Did I fucking stutter, Theo?” You jutted your chin to the bed. “Sit. I won’t tell you again.” 

Judging by the look on his face, Theo was stunned at the sudden change, but you knew your boyfriend well enough to notice that he was entirely turned on by it too. He settled on the edge of the bed, watching in anticipation as you made your way over to the vanity table. As slowly as possible, you took off every piece of jewelry one by one. The diamonds glittered brightly as you removed them from your neck, ears, and fingers. 

A tense silence settled in the room while you pulled the pins out of your updo, sending your hair cascading over your shoulders. Theo squirmed in place, groaning at the sight. You knew that seeing your hair down was his weakness.

“Baby,” he pleaded in the darkness. “Can I touch you?” 

You cut him a disinterested glance over your shoulder. “You can help me take my dress off.” 

Theo sighed in relief as you sauntered over to him. His slender fingers struggled with the zipper, eager to tear the fabric off of your body. You met his gaze through the mirror, giving him a stern look. 

“Slow, Theo. You need to be patient.” 

Your boyfriend swallowed thickly, struggling to reign himself in. He concentrated on undressing you slowly, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled the zipper down. He cursed under his breath when your dress pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a little lacy green set — his favorite. 

The struggle was evident in his expression. His gaze raked over your body, settling on the spiky heels that you purposely kept on. The red soled stilettos clicked against the wooden floors as you closed the gap. You smirked as you settled between his legs and tugged on his tie. 

“Your turn,” you rasped while Theo gazed at you with pure hunger. “Let me undress you now.” 

“Okay,” Theo murmured, dazed and confused as you unbuttoned his shirt. 

He hissed when you raked your nails over his chest and made quick work of his tie. Theo started unbuttoning his shirt, but reeled back when you swatted his hands away. Your boyfriend gazed up at you expectantly, letting his hands fall neatly to his sides while you took over. Without much effort, you expertly unbuckled his belt and kneeled before him to help him slip out of his pants. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes flickered back to his face.  

“Get on the bed,” you commanded. 

Theo was mesmerized, inching backwards towards the headboard on his elbows, but keeping his attention on you as you crawled on the mattress with your heels still on. Your boyfriend was completely under your spell as you brought your face close to his, your hair tickling his chest while he eagerly drank you in. 

“What do you want?” 

“I want to kiss you,” he answered without hesitation.

”Then learn to ask for it.” 

Theo nodded, biting his lip. “Can I kiss you?” 

You raised a brow, utterly unimpressed. “Try again, Theo.” 

He chewed on his bottom lip, canines sinking down. “Can I kiss you, please?” 

You smirked, pleased with the magic word. “Good boy.” 

Something dark flashed in Theo’s expression. Your words seemed to awaken a new level of lust and desire within him. The praise gave him a rush that he had never felt before. Theo surged forward, his mouth slanting over yours eagerly. He tasted like wine and strawberries, heady and sinful while he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You granted his request, licking the roof of his mouth as you battled for control. 

Theo welcomed the challenge, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap. You straddled him and tugged at his hair as you flicked your tongue over his bottom lip, licking and sucking until he groaned with need. Theo took liberties without your permission, his greed getting the best of him as he grinded his hard length against your ass. 

You weren’t going to reward his impertinent behavior. You promised to teach him a lesson tonight. Theo gasped as you bit down on his bottom lip before raising his arms above him. He blinked in confusion as you bound him to the headboard with his own tie. It all happened so fast that by the time he noticed, it was already too late. 

Theo tugged at the restraints, squirming underneath you. “Please, cara mia. I want to touch you.” 

You sighed in disappointment. “Then you should've asked.” 

His biceps flexed as he struggled, the veins on his forearms stark and prominent against his olive skin. Panic filled his eyes when he realized that there was no getting out of his binds. “I’m sorry. I got greedy. Please untie me, principessa. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll make it up to you.” 

Theo sounded desperate. You traced his swollen lips with your fingers and tugged at his messy brown waves. His eyes were wild as you straddled him. “Oh, you will,” you drawled, flashing him a devious smirk. “After I’m done with you, you’ll learn not to disobey me, my love.” 

Your boyfriend panted heavily as you kissed down his chest, sucking and nipping at his flesh in a punishing manner. He was barely breathing as you trailed further south, licking a stripe down his torso. Theo whimpered as you pressed sloppy, openmouthed kisses along his abdominal muscles, leaving hickies in the shape of your initials on his skin. You continued taunting him with your mouth, flicking your tongue along his sinfully delicious happy trail like you had all the time in the world. When you grazed your teeth against his v-lines, Theo tugged at his arms so hard that the headboard rattled. 

He was practically in tears as you palmed his cock through the fabric of his underwear. Theo held his breath as you toyed with the band of his boxers, hooking your fingers over the fabric before sliding it off his long legs. His eyes rolled back while you pumped him, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him writhing against your touch. 

A desperate little whine slipped past his lips as you licked at the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over his tip and slurping up his precum. His moans filled the room when you took him down your throat, holding his hips down so he can’t fuck up into your mouth like he wants. Theo cursed in Italian as you pumped him with both hands, all the while sucking down and hollowing your cheeks to suction him in. 

“Fuck, bella. I’m so close,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I’m going to cum.” 

You withdrew your hands and your mouth at that moment, making him whine and groan from the sudden absence. Theo’s eyes flew wide open, tears filling his vision as you shook your head in disapproval. 

“I thought I told you to ask,” you chided. “If you want to cum, use your words.” 

“Please, please, baby, I’ll do whatever you want —“

”I know,” you said before settling over him and sliding off your panties. “And what I want is for you to get me off. Think you can help me with that, Theo?” 

“Yes, yes. Just untie me and I will. I’ll make you feel good, dolcezza. I promise.” 

“Oh, but you can do that right here, right now. With your hands tied.” Theo groaned as you grinded against him, spreading his precum and your slick over him. He moaned when his cock rubbed against your swollen clit with the perfect amount of friction. Theo was bewildered, his breaths coming out in ragged spurts. 

“Be a good boy and let me use you as my fuck toy. You can do that, can’t you, Teddy?” 

There wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind. Theo felt the words escape him as you grinded against him. He felt dizzy. His cock was so hard that it hurt and he couldn’t even think straight. You hummed, brushing a finger over his balls before cupping them in your hand. 

“Use your words, pretty boy.” Theo blinked back, unable to speak. You grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing him back into focus. “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.” 

Theo whimpered before nodding weakly. “Use me, dolcezza. I’m yours.” 

You smirked in satisfaction. Theo groaned as you rubbed your pussy against his cock. When his shaft brushed against your clit, his eyes rolled back so hard that he was convinced he could see the vacantness of his empty mind. You rode him hard and fast, using his body to get you off. The depravity of it turned him on even more. The blood rushed out of his head at the dominance you exhibited. You were utterly selfish, taking what you wanted when you wanted it, and he was so fucking aroused at how cruel his girl could be. 

You raked your nails over his chest as you balanced, teasing him with your wet folds without letting him feel you. Theo bit his lip so hard that the action drew blood. You licked away the crimson droplets and he sighed against your mouth as you gave him relief, sloppily kissing him while you moaned his name. He could tell you were getting close by the way you convulsed above him and he cursed as your pussy squelched against his cock. 

Theo was in awe as you cried out, cumming while you screamed his name. You slowed the roll of your hips as you lost yourself over to the orgasm, denying him of his own again. Your juices trickled down your thighs and pooled against his stomach. At that point, his cock was so sensitive that it throbbed painfully. Theo was in shambles, his wrists raw and red from tugging so hard. 

“Please, please, baby. Let me fuck you. I need it. I need you. I’ll die if I’m not inside you.” 

You chuckled, brushing the salty tears pooling underneath his pretty eyes. “Pathetic. Are you begging for me, pretty boy? So desperate to fill me up, to feel my pussy hug around your cock while you pump your cum inside of me, hm?” 

“It hurts so bad,” Theo whined. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want. I’ll get on my knees and beg. Please, principessa.” 

“Look at you crying for me,” you cooed, caressing his cheek. “Poor Teddy. You’ve been so good. Let me take care of you now.” You soothed him with praises as you untied his arms. 

You kissed his wrists as Theo sighed in relief. “Do you want to touch me, baby?” 

Theo nodded shyly, which made you smile. His large, rough hands carefully gripped your hips. He looked to you for approval, making sure to check with you for every little thing. You only nodded, dragging his hands up to rest on your breasts. He busied himself with your bra strap, breathing raggedly as he freed your tits from the fabric. 

“Can I touch them, please?” Theo asked earnestly. 

“Is that all you want?” 

“No,” he answered honestly. “I want to kiss them. I want to suck them.” His gaze flickered to your amused expression. “Please, baby.” 

“Go ahead. You earned it, pretty boy.” 

Theo wasted no time, kneading your tits while kissing down your cleavage. He gasped in surprise when you sank down onto him, nearly sobbing in relief when he felt your pussy hug around his cock. His shaky little breaths seeped into your skin as you took inch after inch, making yourself comfortable on his lap as he sheathed himself inside of you. Theo whined when you lifted your hips until only his remained inside of you. 

“Don’t whine, Theo. Be thankful that I’m fucking you instead of punishing you.” 

He rested his head on the crook of your neck, attempting to ground himself. “Thank you, baby. I’m grateful. I don’t deserve it, but you’re so good to me.” 

With a proud smile, you slammed down to take all of him again. Theo was rendered speechless and his mouth fell open as you bounced on his cock. Desperately, he scrambled to catch your perky breasts into his mouth. Your boyfriend sucked on your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples. You moaned as he nipped at you, tensing when you yanked him by his hair. 

Theo stared at you, waiting for direction. Knowing that you had this much control over him made you clench. In your relationship, Theo tended to take on the dominant role, but now that you knew that your boyfriend was more than open to being submissive, you were ready to explore this new dynamic.

“I like this side of you,” you murmured, kissing down his jaw and neck. His breath hitched as you slowly rolled your hips. “So obedient. So willing. So submissive.” A shiver shuddered through him as you wrapped your fingers around his neck. “Tell me who you belong to, Theo.” 

“You, baby,” he rasped. “Only you.” 

“Show me,” you commanded as you squeezed his throat. It was enough to make Theo feel dizzy, momentarily cutting off his oxygen. “Fuck me like you mean it.” 

The desire to please you overwhelmed him. All thoughts of his own pleasure faded. It was secondary to the need to hear you praise him, to validate him, to call him your good boy. He hooked his arm around your waist, shifting his hips to fuck into you at a deeper angle. You moaned above him as your bodies melded together. Sweat, sin, and sex permeated the air while he worshiped at your altar. 

Theo watched his cock disappear between your folds, his gaze flickering from your pussy to your face, eager to know if his actions pleased you. You brushed his hair back, gentle and loving, while you talked him through it. 

“That’s it, Teddy. Fill me up.” Theo thrusted as you bounced, groaning as he hit the sweet spot that made your body sing. “Just like that. Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good, baby.” 

Your forehead dropped to his, rewarding him with sweet little kisses every time he hit the spongy spot that had you seeing stars. He relished in your compliments, felt himself craving it like a drug. When your pussy clenched around him to signal your release, Theo continued to fuck you through the orgasm. There was a reverent glimmer in his eyes like he was witnessing something holy when you came. 

Theo could feel his own release nearing, but he knew better than to cum without asking. It was abundantly clear to him that you were in control tonight. “Can I cum? Please, principessa?” 

“Of course you can,” you replied with a blissed out smile. “Good boys get to cum.” 

He held his breath, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. “I’ve been a good boy?” 

“Mhm,” you murmured, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “The best boy.” Even though you were sensitive and overstimulated, you made sure to reward his good behavior. Picking up the pace, sliding easily up and down his cock thanks to your wetness, you whispered the words that you knew would push Theo over the edge. “Now be a good boy and cum inside of me, baby.” 

Theo cried out with a shout, shuddering underneath you as he shot hot ribbons deep inside your pussy. You could feel his cum filling you up, warm and wet as it trickled out. He panted against your neck as his cock twitched inside of you, releasing his load with each pump. As he emptied himself out, Theo slowed, his body collapsing from the intensity of the orgasm. 

When he regained consciousness, he was flat on his back. Theo blinked away the white spots in his vision. It felt like his soul had left his body entirely. He had cum so hard he passed out. As he rejoined the physical realm, Theo opened his eyes to find you cleaning him up. You were so sweet and gentle, the complete opposite of the selfish lover you’d been just a few moments ago. It warmed his heart to know that you’d always take care of him no matter what. 

Theo smiled as you kissed his forehead. A small whimper escaped his mouth as you pulled his boxers over his legs, his cock still sensitive from the intense sex. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, soothing him as you brushed your fingers through his hair. Theo cuddled against your side and sighed happily. 

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. 

You giggled, pressing soft kisses all over his face. “Did you like that?” You asked, teasing your boyfriend. “It seems like you did.” 

He hummed against your skin, brushing his lips against your neck. “Fuck, I think you just unlocked a new kink for me.” You chuckled at his words. “That was so fucking hot, baby.” 

“You know, I was trying to teach you a lesson,” you mused. “I didn’t quite expect you to enjoy getting degraded this much.” 

“Degrade me whenever you want, dolcezza.” 

"Really?" you hummed, musing on his willingness. "How far would you let me go? If I broke out a leash and collar, would you have stopped me?"

You were half-joking, but the eager expression on your boyfriend's face told you that he was more than willing to make your suggestion into a reality.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, cara mia." Theo wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. "I'd crawl to you on my hands and knees if you asked. If you're the one asking, there's nothing I wouldn't do."

The power definitely gave you a head rush. As much as you relished in the hold you had over him, you tucked the knowledge away for later. There was plenty of opportunity to act out all your dirtiest, filthiest fantasies, but for now, you were more than content to snuggle with the love of your life.

You smirked, nipping at his jaw. “That’s my good boy.” 

[scientia-rex]

Sometimes people tell me I'm a good person. I'm not a good person by nature, or by default. I'm a good person because I've decided that it's important to me to act like one, on a daily basis, forever.

My actual nature is that I want power. I want power and I want my life to be easy and I want other people to be forced to be nice to me even if they hate me. I want other people to have to suck up to me, I want to watch people who I know hate me suffer through the indignity of having to suck up to me. I want to hurt people who hurt me. I want all of these things in the same exact deeply recognizable way that a gorilla or a chimpanzee does. I watch those documentaries and I recognize myself, intimately. The fact that I can behave like a good person in spite of that has taken me a long time and a lot of effort to achieve.

What you feel isn't as important for your "goodness" as what you do. And you get good at what you practice. So practice your skills at being polite, pleasant, kind. Practice gently interrupting negative behaviors--whether that's someone's negative behaviors directed towards themselves, or directed towards someone else. The idea that we have to be inherently without sin is such Christian garbage. It's psychological gibberish. We want things! We want everything! That is normal and human and the key is not acting on every bad feeling you have.

I have taken my insatiable desire for power and to manipulate people and I have used it for good. I have learned how to manipulate people into coming to the doctor and taking their blood pressure medication and being honest about their recreational substance use. I have taken my psychology education and I have used it to craft a persona that makes people feel at ease. I go home at the end of the day exhausted, because maintaining a persona for ten hours straight is exhausting, but I do it happy, because I manipulated the people I work with into feeling better and having brighter days. I manipulated my patients into feeling good about their achievements and recognizing where we need to do things differently.

The hard part is that when the mask slips, people find it not just off-putting but deeply upsetting. When I explain things like "I have thought very carefully about how I would conduct a career in domestic terrorism because I would genuinely like to bomb the headquarters of most American insurance companies, but I don't see a way to do it without getting caught and either killed or spending the rest of my life in prison, and at the moment I consider that an unacceptable outcome," people go from "ha ha! my wacky colleague" to "Jesus Christ, I didn't realize there was something actually wrong with you."

Anyway, don't make your kids read the extended works on Machiavelli at twelve, my dad thought he was helping me but all he accomplished was making me sad I'll never be a king.

[ode2rin]

It's painfully evident to anyone with two working eyes that Reo likes you.

Reo excels in almost anything, except hiding his devastatingly pathetic pining towards you. It's etched across his face, woven into his body language, and discernible even in his speech. It's embarrassing to the point that even someone as detached and inattentive as Nagi can discern it from a mile away.

Well, it’s not that hard to tell when Reo looks at you as though you've adorned the night sky with every sparkling star.

Nagi sometimes wonders if Reo even knows it himself. You weren’t any better too, always so oblivious of the lovesick fool fawning at everything you do — yet stealing glances when you’re certain the purple-haired isn’t looking.

Nagi had become an inadvertent witness to countless moments, each one screaming of the unspoken connection between you and Reo. From stolen glances across the classroom, where your eyes would meet, sparking a silent understanding, to the subtle brush of hands as you passed each other notes.

Watching you both tiptoe around your feelings is painful, especially considering that the two of you are the closest things Nagi has to friends. 

Maybe some minor intervention wouldn’t be a hassle, Nagi reasoned. 

“I like you, Y/N,” and so, he falsely confesses, purposely doing so while Reo stands just a few steps behind you.

Nagi observes your frozen reaction to his declaration, your bag hanging mid-air, frozen before settling on your shoulders. He notices the widened eyes and slightly agape mouth. Above all, he sees the color drain from Reo's face and the slight twitch of his eye in shock. At least he knows his plan is working.

A moment lingers, and you recover from the shock of his confession, still blissfully oblivious to Reo's presence in the room. “Sei... I-I'm sorry. I like someone else.”

I know, he says in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, prompting you to say more. 

“I’m sorry, Sei. I like Reo.”

And there it goes. 

Realization, relief, and everything in between coloring Reo’s face behind you. Reo has always worn his feelings in his sleeves— too transparent and too obvious.

“I know. I don’t like you,” Nagi admits to you, “I said it because he’s behind you.”

For the second time, you freeze at his words. The urge to turn and confirm or deny his statement tugs at you, but the fear of confronting Nagi's unerring honesty prevails.

Nagi Seishiro never lies unless he admits he does. Lying is too much of an effort, honesty is easier, he reasons.

You weigh your choices. Honestly, you'd rather be the butt of Nagi’s jokes than to face Reo if he’s really behind you. And so, you make your decision. Instead of turning to confront the embodiment of your unrequited feelings, you bolt for the door, leaving the two men to exchange silent glances.

“It's a lie?” Reo's voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” Nagi confirms. “Why aren't you going after them—”

Reo interrupts him with a confession, “I wouldn't know what to do if you liked them, too.”

I know, Nagi thinks again, staring at Reo before shrugging and collecting his belongings from the table.

“It will be a pain, I guess.” he shrugs again before finally turning his back to Reo to leave the classroom.

Suppose it's a good thing— it's a good thing Nagi doesn't wear his feelings on his face like you do, Reo.

Because it will really be a pain, indeed.

note. idk what this is but i present to you: pining reo written in nagi's pov or... i guess it could be more than that 🤷🏻‍♀️ (wrote this back in september pls throw the tomatoes gently)

[shdysders]

a cold table

pairing: vada cavell & reader

summary: in which your anniversary with vada didn't turn out like it was supposed to.

word count: 4.8k

author’s note: proof reading this honestly just makes me throw a tantrum bc it’s ridiculously bad in my view. but i’m posting this in hopes of you liking it.

You and Vada were the epitome of "opposites attract."

On the surface, it seemed almost impossible that you two would end up together, let alone be the type of couple that made people smile just by looking at you.

Vada was the kind of girl who looked like she just grabbed her dad's clothes from the laundry basket and made it work. Putting together outfits that made no sense to anyone but her.

Oversized flannel shirts, baggy jeans and sneakers that had seen better days—she wore it all with an air of confidence that dared anyone to question her choices.

She didn't care about trends, and you couldn't imagine her spending more than five minutes deciding what to wear.

You however, were the opposite—always put together, wearing clothes that you knew looked good on you because you liked feeling confident and in control.

When it came to school, Vada was effortlessly good at everything she tried.

She could ace a test without studying, participate in class debates with barely any preparation, and somehow still find time to be the laid-back, carefree person everyone admired.

She had a mind that worked faster than most, but she didn't flaunt it.

You, on the other hand, had to work hard for your grades. School didn't come easily to you, but you cared enough to put in the effort.

You stayed up late studying, agonized over assignments, and took pride in every hard-earned B+ you received. Your determination was something Vada admired, even if she never said it out loud.

Although she would tease you about how seriously you took school, but when it came down to it, she'd show up for study sessions, sometimes even surprising you by actually helping.

And even though you weren't a natural at school, you made sure she didn't slack off too much, reminding her about deadlines and sometimes dragging her to the library when she'd rather be anywhere else.

Everyone at school saw how different you and Vada were. Some people were surprised when you first started dating, while others seemed to have seen it coming from a mile away.

Vada had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when you were surrounded by people.

She listened to you, really listened, like your thoughts were the most important thing in the world. When you talked about your day, no matter how mundane, she would look at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes and nod along.

And you were always there for her, too. Vada might have been the laid-back one, but she had her moments of doubt, and you were the first person she'd turn to.

People noticed how you two balanced each other out. You didn't try to change one another, but you definitely influenced each other in subtle ways.

You brought some structure into Vada's life, and she taught you how to loosen up a bit. You didn't make a show of your relationship, but the way you naturally gravitated toward each other said a lot.

Everyone could see that, even if you didn't make a big deal out of it, you were good for each other.

And even though people didn't really talk about you and Vada much—there wasn't any drama, no on-again, off-again stuff.

You were just there, solid and steady, the kind of couple everyone figured would last. It was easy to imagine you two growing old together, the high school sweethearts who actually made it.

You thought so, too. For the longest time, it just felt like you and Vada were meant to be, that nothing could really shake what you had.

But that was before you started to doubt everything the two of you had.

Before the incident.

You were in the library that day, tucked away in a corner with your books spread out in front of you. Vada had class, and you were trying to focus on an assignment due the next day. It was just another ordinary afternoon, where everything felt routine and predictable.

Then, out of nowhere, you heard it—a loud, sharp sound that made you freeze.

At first, you couldn't quite place it, but then it happened again, and suddenly the room around you shifted.

The quiet murmur of students working turned into panicked whispers, and then, in what felt like seconds, chaos erupted.

Gunshots.

The next thing you knew, people were scrambling, and you were being pulled down to the floor by someone you didn't even know. Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst. You could barely think, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

Meanwhile, Vada had been in the bathroom, just down the hall from where the first shots were fired. She wasn't alone—Mia, the popular girl everyone knew but no one really knew anything about, was there too.

When the first gunshot echoed through the halls, they both froze, their eyes wide with terror. Without a word, they rushed into the nearest stall together, instinctively pulling their feet up onto the toilet seat to stay hidden.

In the days that followed, everything felt like a blur.

The school was closed, news crews swarmed the area, and you were left trying to process what had happened. You tried to be there for Vada, but it was hard to know how.

She was different—quieter, more withdrawn, like she was lost in her own head. You wanted to help, to say something that would make it better, but nothing felt right. It was like a wall had gone up between you, and no matter what you did, you couldn't get through to her.

Vada barely talked about what happened in the bathroom with Mia.

When she did, her voice was flat, detached, like she was telling a story that had happened to someone else. She wouldn't look you in the eye, and that scared you more than anything.

You could see the fear and anger simmering under the surface, but she wouldn't let it out. She tried to act like everything was fine, but you could see the cracks forming.

You knew she was probably feeling a million things—guilt, fear, anger, maybe even shame for surviving when others hadn't. But she didn't talk about it, and you didn't know how to bring it up without making her shut down more.

Every time you reached out, it felt like she was slipping further away, retreating into a place you couldn't follow.

The carefree attitude that used to define her was gone, replaced by a tension that never seemed to leave. You noticed how she avoided certain hallways, how she liked to be alone now, and how she wouldn't talk about it. It was like she was trying to hold it all together, to not fall apart, but you could see how much it was costing her.

Vada didn't go back to school for a long time.

But eventually, you did go back due your parents forcing you. It wasn't easy, and you felt guilty every day.

The hallways felt different, quieter, like everyone was holding their breath. You went through the motions, trying to keep up with classes and pretending things were normal, but they weren't.

Not for you, and definitely not for Vada. It was hard walking into school every day, knowing she was at home, struggling with things you couldn't fully understand.

You tried to keep things normal, to talk about school, or movies, or anything that wasn't about what happened. But even then, you could feel the distance growing.

At first, the way Vada acted—or didn't act—around you didn't really matter. You understood she was going through something unimaginable.

You were patient, giving her the space she seemed to need, even when she seemed distant or didn't respond much.

What really caught you off guard wasn't the silence or the way she sometimes snapped at you, which you could understand given everything she was dealing with.

What hurt more was when Vada started disappearing.

You'd try to check in on her, but she was often unreachable, and you had this sinking feeling she wasn't just avoiding you—she was spending time with someone else.

You'd seen Mia post something on social media, little hints that made it clear Vada had been with her. It wasn't like you blamed her for needing someone who understood what she'd been through, but it stung all the same.

The fact that she was turning to Mia instead of you made the distance between you feel even wider, and that's when the doubt started to creep in. You knew she was hurting, but you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something you weren't prepared to face.

And as the days went on, Vada started staying out late, not telling you where she was or who she was with. The first time it happened, you tried not to worry too much, but it kept happening.

You wanted to talk to her, to see how she was really doing, but every time you tried, she seemed to slip further away.

Then, one night, you decided to go over to her house, hoping to finally have that conversation.

When she opened the door, you could immediately tell something was off. She was unsteady on her feet, her eyes a little glazed over, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath.

She was drunk, and it had shook you more than you expected. This wasn't like her at all.

You tried to ask her what was going on, why she was drinking, but she just brushed you off, slurring something about needing to forget for a while.

It worried you, seeing her like this, knowing that she was hurting so much that she felt the need to numb it with alcohol. You wanted to help her, to pull her back before she fell too deep, but she wasn't letting you in.

Even with everything going on, you held onto the hope that Vada wouldn't forget about your three-year anniversary. It was the one thing you thought might still matter, even with all the changes and distance between you.

Every year, you and Vada had always done something special to mark the day. It was your tradition—whether it was a simple picnic in the park or watching the stars from the roof of your house, it was always something that brought you closer together.

You thought that this anniversary might be a turning point, a chance for both of you to reconnect and maybe find some of what had been lost in the chaos.

You knew things weren't the same as before, but you hoped that this day would remind Vada of what you had, of how much you meant to each other.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You had arranged everything perfectly. After some careful planning, you talked to Vada's parents about your idea, suggesting that they and her little sister Amelia spend the night at Vada's grandmother's house.

You knew your own parents would never approve of the two of you having the house to yourselves on a school night, but Vada's parents were different.

They saw how much you meant to each other and, more importantly, how much Vada needed something to remind her of the good things in her life. They agreed without hesitation, eager to give you both the space you needed.

With the house to yourselves, you planned to cook dinner for her—nothing fancy, just her favorite comfort foods, something that would make her feel safe and loved.

You'd set the table in the dining room with candles, making it feel cozy and intimate.

After dinner, you were going to to watch the movie you saw on your first date. It was your way of trying to bring things back to the beginning, to remind her of who you both were before everything got so complicated.

You wanted the night to be perfect, not in some grand, over-the-top way, but in a way that would show Vada that you still believed in what you had together. This was your chance to reconnect, to pull her back from the distance that had grown between you, and you were determined to make it happen.

As the day got closer, you tried not to let your anxiety get the best of you. Vada had been distant, but you convinced yourself that she wouldn't let this day slip by.

This was your day, after all—the one day you could both take a break from everything else and just focus on each other. You were counting on it, needing it to bring you back together, at least for a little while.

The day finally came, and you had everything set up just the way you imagined.

You spent hours in the kitchen, carefully preparing all of Vada's favorite dishes. The table was set with candles, the lights dimmed just right to create that warm, intimate atmosphere. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail.

The whole thing was meant to be a surprise—you hadn't told Vada anything, just that she should come straight home after whatever she had planned for the day. You imagined her walking through the door, seeing the setup, and maybe, just maybe, something in her would shift back to how it used to be.

But as the minutes turned into hours, the excitement started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of worry.

Vada wasn't coming home.

You waited and waited, watching the food grow cold on the table. You tried calling her, messaging her, hoping for some kind of response, but there was nothing. Each time your phone stayed silent, your heart sank a little deeper.

You knew deep down that just waiting around probably wasn't the smartest idea. Maybe you should've told her, given her a heads-up so she could be sure to come home.

The hours passed and the house stayed empty, you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. The night you'd planned so carefully, the night that was supposed to bring you closer, was slipping away, and with it, the hope you'd been clinging to.

You kept glancing at the clock, the numbers glowing dimly in the quiet room. It was nearly 11, and you were clinging to the hope that she'd come through the door any minute.

If she did, you'd just reheat the food, relight the candles, and try to salvage the night. It wasn't ideal, but you were ready to make the best of it.

Then, the front door creaked open, and Vada walked in. You jumped up immediately, eager to greet her.

When she saw you, her expression was a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. She looked at you weirdly, as if you were weird for being there.

She seemed off—her steps were unsteady, and there was a distant look in her eyes that made you worry.

"What... What are you doing here, Y/N?" she mumbled, her voice slurring slightly. She seemed distant, making you worry even more.

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff and uncertain. "Today's our three-year anniversary," you said, your voice filled with hesitation. "I was hoping we could spend some time together. You know, like we always do."

Vada let out a scoff and began to walk toward her room, her steps slow and uneven. She glanced at you with a weariness in her eyes, as if the effort to respond was too much. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and she seemed to be struggling to focus on you.

"Do we really still care about this?"

It hit you harder than you expected. You tried to hold onto your initial excitement and positivity, but her tone made it hard to ignore the distance growing between you.

As she took those two steps toward her room, you felt a mix of disappointment and confusion, unsure how to reach out or fix what seemed to be slipping away.

Vada walked closer, and you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath.

As she moved into the light, you noticed her eyes were red and puffy, and it was hard to tell if it was from crying or something else.

You hoped it was tears—something you could understand and help with. The thought of it being anything worse made your heart sink. You stood there, struggling to reconcile the image of her pain with the reality of what was happening.

You took a hesitant step forward and asked, "Are you drunk?"

Vada's face reddened with anger. "Are you seriously judging me right now?" she snapped.

You were taken aback by her reaction, and a wave of nervousness washed over you.

The fact that she was drunk only seemed to make everything worse.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady, said, "No, I was just wondering where you've been. Have you been drinking alone?" Your words trailed off, unsure how to continue as you watched her closely, hoping she'd open up.

Vada's anger seemed to wane as she noticed your genuine concern. "I was with Mia," she said simply, her voice a bit softer.

You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Have you done drugs?"

Vada's face flushed with anger as she spun around, muttering, "Oh my god." She shot you a fierce look, clearly irritated.

You quickly followed her, trying to explain yourself. "I was just worried because you've been spending a lot of time with Mia, and I was just wondering what you two were up to. I didn't mean to... I just wanted to know." You felt yourself rambling, hoping she'd understand your concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I just need to know if there's something more going on between you and Mia."

You knew the question was direct and might come off as rude, but you were desperate to understand what was happening.

You needed to know if this was the end for you both, if there was something significant you were missing.

Vada's eyes widened in surprise, her face flushing with a mix of anger and guilt. For a moment, she looked taken aback, as if the question had cut through a fog of confusion. Her response was immediate but hesitant,

"What are you talking about? There's nothing between us." But her tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty, leaving you more unsettled than before.

Your curiosity was driven by the fear that everything you had might be unraveling, and you were grasping at any answers that could provide clarity.

You were grasping for understanding, your voice trembling. "I don't know. It feels like you've just—"

Vada cut you off, voice loud enough to make you flinch. "Why do you always have to question everything?" she slurred, her speech thick and unsteady. "Just because we're dating doesn't mean you need to know everything I'm doing or feeling! I'm so fucking tired of you prying into every little thing!"

Her movements were uncoordinated; she stumbled slightly as she spoke, her balance wavering.

The alcohol and possibly drugs made her seem disconnected, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She swayed slightly as she continued, her anger barely masking the haze of her intoxication.

You struggled to keep calm, knowing her anger was intensified by the substances she'd consumed. "I didn't mean to pry," you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted to understand what's happening with us."

Vada glared at you, her frustration still evident. "What, do you expect me to lay out every detail of my life for you?" she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

"Do you want me to explain my feelings all the time, like it's some kind of control?"

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you quietly replied, "No, that's not what I meant." Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address. Vada's gaze remained fixed on you, her anger unyielding and her eyes burning with frustration.

Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address.

You had only been seeking clarity about your relationship, not demanding control or constant explanations. Her response felt out of touch with your intentions, leaving you confused and hurt as you tried to make sense of her accusations.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, and asked, "What did you guys do?"

You didn't expect anything shocking or out of the ordinary. You just hoped she'd tell you they hung out, talked, maybe drank a little—nothing more.

You weren't trying to accuse her of anything; you just wanted to make sure they hadn't done something reckless or dangerous.

The thought of her putting herself in a risky situation was what really worried you.

That's why you asked—to ease the growing unease in your chest, to hear something that would put your mind at rest, and to reassure yourself that everything was still okay.

Vada's eyes flashed with irritation as she responded, "Nothing."

Her tone was dismissive, but you couldn't ignore the gnawing doubt inside you. You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. "Vada, it's almost 11 a.m. You've been with her all night. Of course, you did something."

The air was thick with tension, almost suffocating. Vada's posture stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she tried to process your words. You could see her face flush, her mind clearly racing as she grappled with the confrontation.

She had always hated these kinds of direct confrontations, and it was evident she was struggling to come up with a believable excuse.

For a moment, there was a charged silence. You watched as Vada's gaze darted around, her eyes betraying her panic.

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, her face a mixture of frustration and fear as she searched for a way to deflect or minimize the situation.

Her hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to steady herself.

The silence dragged on, and you could almost see her internal struggle as she failed to come up with a satisfactory answer.

Her frustration began to bubble over, and her composure started to crack under the pressure. Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, she snapped.

"Fuck it," she burst out, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

"I smoked weed with Mia, got high and I slept with her, alright? Is that what you'd like to hear?"

Her admission was blunt and raw, a revelation that she hadn't intended to make but couldn't hold back any longer. The anger in her eyes and the way her voice wavered revealed the depth of her frustration and the extent of her emotional turmoil.

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

Her confession hit you like a punch to the gut. The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, and you could feel the room closing in around you.

The shock made it hard to breathe. You tried to stay calm but struggled to process what she'd just admitted. "You slept with her?" you repeated quietly, your voice trembling.

For a split second, you saw a flash of regret in Vada's eyes, as if she realized the weight of what she'd said.

Although that look quickly faded, replaced by her defensive stance.

The moment of vulnerability was brief, almost as if she was trying to erase it before you could fully grasp it. You were left reeling, trying to make sense of her sudden, raw honesty and what it meant for both of you.

Did she actually sleep with her? Or did she just say it out of anger or because she was under influence?

Mia had always been someone you thought was a friend to Vada, someone who was there for her in ways you couldn't be after everything that happened.

You never saw her as a threat, never imagined that Vada's connection with her could be something more than just two people sharing their trauma.

But after every late night that Vada seemed to spend with her,  the doubt had tightened its grip.

You thought you had tried so hard to be there for Vada, to break through the walls she had built up, but now it felt like those walls were never meant to let you in. They were meant to keep you out, while Mia was welcomed in.

The realization that Mia, the girl Vada used to mock for her obsession with popularity and appearances, could have become something more to her, stung.

Vada had always rolled her eyes at the way Mia cared about what people thought, about how she looked. It was something that made you believe Vada and Mia could never be more than friends.

But now, you couldn't help but wonder if all that bashing was just a cover, a way to hide the truth even from herself.

Had Vada's complaints been a way to deflect from feelings she didn't want to admit?

You could feel the tears welling up, your lips trembling uncontrollably. You didn't try to hide it, but it felt irrelevant since Vada seemed to look right through you.

Her gaze was unfocused, her pupils dilated, wide and glassy, as if she was barely seeing you. Her mouth was twisted into a slight, almost mocking smile that made your heart sink even further.

You hoped and prayed that she didn't actually found this funny.

You tried to convince yourself that she would regret this later, that she'd understand the pain she was causing, and that the real Vada—without the haze of alcohol and anger—would recognize how deeply she had hurt you.

But not even your hopes seemed to be on your side as Vada let out a heavy sigh, the anger seeming to drain from her as she suddenly looked exhausted.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled, her voice still slurred, but now quieter, almost as if the fight had taken all the energy she had left.

She turned on her heel, swaying slightly as she started to walk away.

But then she paused, her hand gripping the edge of the wall for balance, and looked back at you with a cold, detached expression.

"And clean this shit up before my parents get home," she snapped, her voice filled with disgust as she gestured vaguely at the table where the dinner you had so carefully prepared now sat untouched, cold.

"It looks fucking ridiculous." She spat out, her words like shards of glass cutting through you.

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, feeling the sting as you glanced back at the table.

Her words echoed in your mind, and as you looked at the half-heartedly arranged candles and the untouched dinner, you had to admit—maybe she was right.

It did look ridiculous.

Without waiting for a response, Vada turned away, her frustration palpable as she stormed off toward her room. The silence that followed was heavy, the flickering candles casting long shadows that seemed to mock the effort you had put in.

You stood there, feeling like a stranger in a house you had once felt so welcomed in, like an outsider in a place you had imagined as your second home.

As you cleaned up like she told you to, the weight of what had just transpired settled heavily on your shoulders.

You packed the leftover food into containers, trying to salvage what you could for Vada's parents. Each movement felt mechanical, your hands moving on autopilot while your mind was consumed by a torrent of thoughts.

You sobbed quietly, tears falling onto the remnants of a dinner that was meant to celebrate love and commitment, that was meant to fix what you guys had.

It wasn't a formal breakup, but the reality was clear.

Vada's behavior, whether from being drunk or high, had made it clear that things between you were over, even if no formal words had been spoken.

There was so much left unsaid, so many questions swirling in your mind.

Although as you walked out the door of the Cavell house, you knew the answers no longer mattered.