#i just get the feeling they might be good friends!

[lilacstro]

Astro observations pt 1

Hey y'all this is my very first post :) Please take it with a grain of salt. These are just my interpretations and observations and a placement could mean million different things on how its being viewed and understood and nothing is sure on how it manifests for you in your chart.

Jupiter in 8th house can mean many things, one of them being your spouse would bring transformative experiences into your life.

2. Scorpio mercuries may have a tendency to over analyze what is being said or always wanting to read between the lines

3. I have seen Pluto in 5th house of all the people who's mothers were dominated. Though this can mean the other way around too, and could be that the mother was dominating.

4. I think other than most people saying Pluto 1st housers go a massive change in appearance, I think it could actually mean that their personality and persona goes a massive change at some point in their life, or its constantly being evolved through learning experiences

5. Venus in 1st house people, are extremely beautiful.

6. Check Asteroid fama (408) and industria(389) if any of these positively aspect your venus, you could get fame for your beauty or work within the beauty industry.

7. Most women with major scorpio/capricorn placements appear intimidating even though it might not be so...but they indeed hold themselves to high regards mostly

8. Having an earth rising in your SR can indicate having a calmer and a predictable year. Nothing chaotic or major. I had Taurus Rising in my SR and I had lost a lot of toxic/chaotic people in my life and things were stable and peaceful throughout. I was on a gap year so I did not make friends either hahaha

9. Having sun/moon in 10th house synastry or 10th house stellium could mean you both together are quite talked about or people are aware towards your feelings towards one another visibly. Sometimes it could also mean, you two's business isnt as private as you think lmao and people are aware on whats happening.

10. Having moon in 10th house in SR can indicate your emotions being extremely visible to everyone, even if you tend to hide them.

11. Libra mars people, might not come off as too masculine but rather a little more in tune with their feminine side (thats cool imo)

12. I think Moon in Gemini people often tend to say "I never said that" when they absolutely said that or "What do you mean" even when its clear what is being talked about lmao.

13. Leo women are usually very outgoing, charismatic and fun imo. Leo anywhere in the big 3 can mean that this side exists to the native though it might be overshadowed by other aspects in the chart. The types to dance at the empty dance floor and then suddenly everyone wants to dance lol

14. I was watching Nat Geo a long time ago and saw how lioness protect their children from the Lions and often go hunting. I think all mothers are protective of their children but for Leo women, its on another level lol. Also, they might like taking pride in their children and providing for their children. Not as in boasting, but just genuinely taking pride.

15. Cancer men and the love for their mothers. NEVER met a single cancer guy who did not have a lot of love for their mother.

16. Sag placements usually Sun and risings usually have a very comforting presence. Even it maybe like you met them for the first time, they can make you feel grounded and comfortable. Very non judgmental too.

17.If you have Saturn in 6th house, please try having a routine even if you might dread it lol

18. Capricorn moon men usually have very traditional or maybe orthodox beliefs about how women should be. I have seen that a lot.

20. Taurus Mars may like slow recreational activities like cooking.

21. Wanna know how you would react during a break up? See your moon+8th house sign. Example, a Leo moon with 8th house in cancer would be extremely emotional and everybody would know.

22. Girls with Libra Sun, Rising or MC may really like makeup and have good fashion sense.

23. Having your moon sign same like your mothers sun sign may indicate some kind of special connection between two of you. It could be that you understand her much better or could be that you don't get along at all too? idk there is something much special about it.

24. Sun in 10th house could mean your dad had a status in society. Could also mean, your birth could bring him luck in his career.

25. Jupiter in second house people usually come from wealth or hold potential to create generational wealth.

That's it :) I hope it resonated with you all :)

#astrology #astro notes #astro #trending #manifesation #astro observations #astrology community #astro community #astrology observations #astrology notes #zodiac #zodiacsigns #birth chart #horoscope #lilacstro #lilacstronotes #lilacstro observations

[princessbrunette]

when lamb!reader had suggested a video call with jj instead of hanging out at her house, it felt simply preventative. she’d been having urges lately, feelings — ones she’s not used to feeling. sometimes when she was around jj, it was like her body had a brain of its own. an unholy and disgraceful brain that went against what she thought she was wishing. she was beginning to believe if they were to hang out in person one on one, she might act out of impulse to sate the desire that had built inside her.

you’d been feeling this way since he’d gifted you that stuffed lamb. he was technically just a friend, no different from the other pogues you’d been hanging out with since trying to find your feet in the obx — but there was a different sort of simmering tension you felt with him and only him. what started as annoying teasing and jabs became warm fluttering in your stomach and unholy thoughts about his hands and mouth. it was like he knew it too, jj always seemed to have this look in his eye, a curl to the corner of his mouth — like there was something about you on the tip of his tongue that he was withholding. it made you want to set yourself alight.

as the call sound rings on your screen, you ponder why you’d made your hair all pretty, and why you’d chosen your best white nightgown. it felt and looked innocent at best, but as much as you’d hate to admit it — the fact there was nothing beneath gave you a rush like no other.

your thoughts were interrupted by his handsome face on your screen.

“fancy seeing you here, lamb chop.” he smirks, that same knowing look in his eye that he always had. without thinking you fiddle with your cross necklace.

“didnt i tell you to stop calling me that?” you respond, feeling as though you hid the hitch in your throat pretty well.

“and why would i listen to you?” he jokes, shuffling in his desk chair — bedroom a mess in his background. you’re about to comment on it, tell him to tidy it on instinct to nag him but he speaks first. “lookin’ real good tonight. you get all pretty for me?”

something about the way he asks that sends heat to your lower regions, something that felt forbidden and wrong and yet addicting.

“i’m just wearing what i sleep in. i figured id check in with you before i get some rest.” it’s an attempt at sounding casual, something you’d clearly applied much time and thought to.

“you wear that to sleep? pan down for me real quick?” you hear him shuffle closer to the screen like he was really trying to get a good look, and without thinking you obey — showing him the white lace of your night gown, from the straps to the way it falls on your upper thigh. he chuckles with a quiet “mm.” sound, and you’re panning back to your face quickly — glancing subconsciously at the door, wondering what your mother might say if she saw you showing your night gown to a boy.

“thats real pretty lil lamb. like you.” you hate how smooth he was, how every compliment had heat rushing to your centre.

“no need to flatter me.” you shrug a shoulder, and he doesn’t miss the way your tits jostle a little at the movement. he even leans on his elbows at his desk, eyes pointed downward unabashedly.

“right, right so… little limbrey… talk me through your night time routine. i wanna step into your shoes for a lil bit.” he settles, always insanely good at making conversation from nothing. you purse your lips in thought, looking around your room.

“well… i showered, changed, and usually before bed i do something stimulating but relaxing to get me ready to sleep and tire me out.” you list, staring at the book going unread on your bedside table. he huffs a laugh through a smirk and his brows shoot up.

“oh yeah? you stimulate yourself? tell me more ‘bout that.” he jokes and you furrow your brows, adorably in his opinion.

“what do you mean?” you question and jj licks his lips, trying to hold himself back from laughing anymore but failing miserably.

“ah, i’m just playin’ with you babydoll— carry on.” he waves a hand but you’re curious now. perhaps you sensed there was some innuendo behind it, but you pushed anyway— your inner excitement getting the better of you. you shift on your bed to lay on your side, getting more comfortable.

“i wanna laugh too, tell me what it means?” you pout grumpily which makes him relent instantly.

“nah… i was just makin’ a joke about… you know… you playin’ with yourself. ‘lotta people do that before they sleep.” he dismisses, and usually you’d scold him or make a face — but tonight, you’re not sure what possesses you — you ask,

“do you?”

jj blinks in surprise at the question for a second.

“do…uh, well,” he coughs awkwardly and you already regret asking. you cast your eyes downwards. “yeah, i do. you don’t ever… indulge?”

you’re quick to shake your head, though you’re lying. you’ve tried a few times.

“its a sin.” the words are instinctual when they leave you, and it only deepens jj’s amused expression that forms once more across his handsome features.

“yeah uh, no shit honey. you gotta release sometimes though right? s’better that way… keeps the sinful activities at bay so you don’t go out n’make bad choices. preventative procedures n’all that shit.” he converses, scratching his temple — a habit you’d pick up on when he’s a tad nervous or apprehensive.

you’d never thought of it that way before, so you take a moment to stare into space — a rush of relief coming over you. he was right. it had to be better than going and sleeping around, surely.

“wow, that’s… uncharacteristically insightful.”

“i’on know what that means—”

“you’re right. i don’t feel so bad anymore.” you chime, looking rather elated. his smile returns and he tilts his head.

“yeah? so you do indulge?” he drags it out, like he wants to tease you but he doesn’t wanna push too hard and shut you down again. you bite your lip, mulling over his question.

“m’not great at it, but yes.” you try to remain prideful, sticking your nose up a little.

“comes with practice i guess. i’mma beat around the bush here — i’d say i know my way around lady parts pretty good so like, if you ever need any pointers… on how to… y’know, suppress your urges… i got’chu.” he tries to sound nonchalant, careful, even shrugs for added effect. what he doesn’t see, is your hand reaching blindly to your bedside table and turning the framed image of Jesus to be face down.

twenty minutes later, and you’re hot in the face with your back propped up against a load of frilly, fluffed pillows. the laptop sits between your spread legs, displaying your open glossy cunt centre screen, your fingers stroking circles over your throbbing bud as you try to suppress your whimpers.

“uh-huh, juuuuuust like that. you wanna try rubbin’ it up and down? or do you wanna stick to the whole circle thing.” beneath his desk, jj slowly rolls his fist over his cock. he felt kinda weird about it, but he didn’t wanna alert you to the fact he was helping himself too— thinking it might freak you out and make you call it a night.

“‘like it like this!” you squeak, being mindful of your volume. you knew the pain meds had likely knocked your mother out clean by now, but you could never be too careful. you buck your hips against your hand, and even through the quality of the video call jj can see the arousal pooling between your spread legs. you had no idea how needy you could be.

“god damn, mama— you needed this, huh?” he chuckles, but it’s kind and he’s not teasing, infact there’s a softness to it. an affection.

“mhmmm.” you release in a whine, and jj is thrilled. he loved that he got you like this, letting go of all your beliefs for a while, forgetting it all because your head is so hazy with pleasure.

“keep rubbing just like that, yeah? just like i’d do it.” he mutters the last part, but he knows you hear it when your eyes flutter open, hand slowing. shit. he didn’t want you to come to your senses about just how sinful this whole thing was— he was barely teaching anymore, more so talking you through it.

his eyes widen a tad and his own hand freezes. “shit, uh— sorry ‘bout that. that’s my bad, i got carried away.”

in a whisper, with furrowed brows like it pained your very being to ask, you come forth with “keep talking like that.”

it stuns him for a few second, and his thumb swipes over his tip again. “wait… for real?”

“unfortunately it’s…mmph— it’s the only thing that’s gonna get me there. i’m tired, jj… i just wanna… i wanna—”

“cum?” he tries to stop the grin by pressing his tongue to the corner of his mouth, and his expression softens when he sees the way you melt, more arousal dribbling from you.

“yeah.” you groan, causing jj to pout in faux sympathy.

“yeah? i got you mama. keep strokin’ that pretty thing. i’mma tell you right now, you’re missin’ out on this tongue. i could make you feel things you never thought you could feel. would make you cream so hard you’d have tears down them pretty cheeks. that what you wanna hear, lil lamb?”

“oh… oh god!” your toes clench, everything clenches.

“nah baby, it ain’t god. s’just me.”

#jj maybank prompt #lamb!reader #tw religion #tw jesus idk #idk how to tag these things guys please

[mechaknight-98]

Human Resources (NSFW) FT Hyewon Kang

You were working on tightening up Leo's datasheet when Hyewon's teams' message popped up in your feed. You ignored it until you finished cleaning up the datasheet. after that, you read Hyewon's message carefully.

"Hey, can you come to my office? I need to talk to you about something." The message read, and your heart sank. You knew Hyewon, or as you used to call her, Hyem. When you first started working at this company, she was your first friend, the one who made the daunting transition into a new job feel manageable. But then the big boss—the dreaded Miyawaki—made a very expedited decree that there would be no "special associations at work." That all but killed your budding relationship with the HR specialist.

You avoided her with all your might after that. No more talking about shared musical tastes or the latest anime; it was just "Hi" and "Bye." It was rough, but you endured it. Rules were rules, after all. Although increasingly, it felt like it was more rules for them and not for me, as an increasing number of your coworkers became engaged in "special associations."

You arrive in Hyewon's office after narrowly avoiding Leo, and Nako making out in the office of his door. "So much for professionalism," you mutter as you turn a corner. Before you cross the threshold you hear from down the hall.

"Yes fuck my pussy," being yelled/moaned by the Event coordinator Yena and your friend Levi. You grimaced as another one of your friends fell to this almost permeable lust that had taken everyone over, but hey at least they're not as bad as Eunbi and Izzy because that is the last time you work on a Saturday. Hesitantly you open the door and see Hyewon and she looks pissed. her pretty face is contorted in an annoyed grimace that leaves you worried.

"Hey Hyewon," you say hesitantly hoping to ameliorate whatever has her so livid, but you'd be remiss if you didn't mention how her anger was such a turn-on. it was the fourth thing you two bonded over, both of you were chaos gremlins who reveled in indignation.

when she hears your voice she looks up at you with a pleasant smile before saying, "Oh good you're here. Close the door." you do as she says and sit in the chairs across her desk as she sits in her chair.

"I suppose you're wondering why I messaged you to come in," Hyewon said calmly.

you are about to speak but are interrupted when you hear a familiar voice moan,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, make me cum daddy," you recognize the voice, and you are livid.

"that arrogant and egotistical bitch." you say. You can feel a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth despite yourself. Her passion, her fire—it’s one of the things you admire, and miss most about her. "Yeah, that sounds pretty typical," you reply, trying to keep your tone soothing yet acknowledging the absurdity. "It’s like they get off on making our lives difficult."

Hyewon’s eyes narrow, her irritation still palpable but now mixed with a hint of amusement. "Exactly! And they don't even follow their own rules. If I have to hear about another office romance getting special treatment while we’re here drowning in work because we follow the rules, I might scream. Especially since Sakura can't keep her hands off what's his name?"

"Momotaro" You answer.

"Thanks, sweetie," Hyewon says in a tone that's both adorable and alluring. you sit in your chair trying to hide your growing erection. Hyewon doesn't seem to notice.

Hyewon takes a deep breath, her fingers tapping lightly on her desk. "I know things have been... different between us since Miyawaki's decree. I hate how it affected our friendship."

You nod, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Yeah, it’s been tough. I miss our talks."

"Me too," she says, her voice softer now. "But, I noticed something lately. A lot of our coworkers seem to be ignoring that rule, and nothing's happened to them. It seems unfair that we had to stop being friends because of it."

You lean back in your chair, considering her words. "I've noticed that too. It's like the rules only apply to some people, and it doesn't seem right."

Hyewon nods vigorously. "Exactly. And I was thinking... maybe it's time we stopped letting it dictate our friendship. If others can have their 'special associations' without consequence, why should we be any different?"

A spark of hope ignites within you. "You think we can just... go back to how things were?"

"I do," she says firmly. "But more than that, I want us to catch up properly. There's a lot we've missed out on. I was wondering if you'd like to go grab lunch with me today. We can talk about everything—anime, music, life."

"Great," Hyewon says, her smile mirroring yours. "Let's meet at noon and catch up properly."

"Hell yeah, screw her. Hell, let's get lunch right now. Since the whole office is entangled in each other right now," you respond with a grin.

Hyewon smiles, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she grabs her coat and mask. "Sounds like a plan." The two of you head to her car and hop in. She speeds off towards the Korean BBQ place you two were supposed to go to a year ago before everything got complicated.

On the way there, you both fall into a comfortable conversation, the familiarity of old friends making the time fly by.

"So when did Momo and Kura become a thing?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

Hyewon chuckles, shaking her head. "I don't know exactly, but I think they started getting closer about two and a half weeks ago. That's when I noticed a change in their interactions. They started using nicknames and having more one-on-one meetings."

You raise an eyebrow. "Nicknames? Really? That's bold, even for them."

"Yeah, it's like they're not even trying to hide it," Hyewon says with a scoff. "I mean, good for them, I guess, but it’s just so hypocritical. Miyawaki's decree doesn't apply to them."

"Of course not," you agree, rolling your eyes. "It's like there's one set of rules for them and another for the rest of us."

"You know three days ago I caught her giving him a blowjob in her office after she has scheduled a meeting with me to discuss my relationship with you."

"That's such bullshit," you affirm. Hyewon nods.

At the restaurant, the two of you finally have a chance to catch up after nearly a year apart. The ambiance is cozy, with soft lighting and a low hum of conversation filling the air. You settle into a booth by the window, and the familiar scent of grilled food and fresh coffee instantly makes you feel at ease.

"So, what have you been up to?" Hyewon asks, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she takes a sip of her iced tea.

You smile, thinking back over the past year. "Honestly, just the usual grind. But I did get into a few new shows. Have you seen Elric of Melibone?"

Hyewon's face lights up. "Yes! It's amazing, right? I love the way they adapted the books. Henry Cavill as Elric is just perfect."

"I know, right?" you say, leaning forward. "The storytelling is fantastic. And the fight scenes! The choreography is just insane."

Hyewon nods enthusiastically. "Totally. Oh, and I've been watching Demon Slayer. The animation is out of this world. Have you seen it?"

"I have! The colors, the details, everything is just so beautiful. Plus, the story is gripping. I can't wait for the next season."

The conversation flows effortlessly as you both delve into the different shows and anime you've been enjoying. It's as if no time has passed at all. You talk about the latest season of Stranger Things, the mind-bending twists in Westworld, and the nostalgic joy of rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender.

"Do you remember how we used to binge-watch Naruto back after work to avoid traffic when we started?" Hyewon reminisces with a laugh. "We'd stay up all night just to see what happened next."

You chuckle, nodding. "Of course! And we had those ridiculous debates about who was the strongest character. Good times."

The waiter comes by to refill your drinks and take your orders, and you continue to chat about your favorite episodes and characters. The restaurant gradually empties as the evening progresses, but you hardly notice, lost in conversation.

By the time you both decide to head back to the office, the sun has dipped below noon, casting long shadows across the pavement. The walk back is filled with more laughter and stories, and it feels like no time has passed since you last hung out.

When the two of you get back to the office, it's empty. The usual bustle and noise are replaced by an almost eerie silence, the kind that only happens when everyone else has left for the day.

"Looks like we have the place to ourselves," you remark, flipping on the lights.

"I wonder where everyone went," Hyewon says sarcastically, knowing the two of you would be here alone until the end of the business day. She rolls her eyes as she glances around the empty office, the desks barren and the usual hum of chatter conspicuously absent.

"Probably off doing stuff," you reply with a smirk, shaking your head. "It's like Valentine's Day came early or something."

Hyewon snorts her expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Right? It's not like we have a ton of work to get through or anything." Her sarcasm is as sharp as ever, and you can't help but laugh.

Since you have the office to yourselves, the two of you decide to take advantage of the peace and quiet. You gather your work laptops and head into the conference room, setting up to watch Attack on Titan from the beginning together.

As the first episode starts, you both dive into your tasks, the sound of Eren's declarations of vengeance serves as hype background noise. The rhythm of work and anime is oddly comforting. You blaze through spreadsheets and reports, pausing only when a particularly intense scene demands your full attention.

During a mini-break, Hyewon leans back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. "You know," she muses, "I bet all those couples are out there spending a fortune on overpriced dinners and romantic getaways, while we're here getting stuff done and watching some of the best anime ever made."

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. "We are doing better. Plus, no distractions from people asking about our weekend plans or trying to set us up with their single friends."

"Ugh, exactly," Hyewon groans, rolling her eyes dramatically. "If I hear one more story about someone's perfect date, I might just scream."

The two of you share a knowing look, bonded by your mutual disdain for the forced romanticism that seems to have overtaken your colleagues. Another episode ends, and you both get back to work, the sound of keystrokes mingling with the anime's soundtrack.

By the end of the shift, you've not only finished half a season but also completed four days' worth of work. Hyewon shuts her laptop with a satisfied sigh. "See? Who needs romantic distractions when we've got Titans to slay and work to conquer?"

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie and accomplishment. "Exactly. Same time tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Hyewon grins, standing up and stretching again. "Let's see if we can finish the season and clear out the rest of the week's tasks."

You smiled as you nodded. While everyone else was off chasing romance, you and Hyewon had created your own little sanctuary of productivity and anime, and it was perfect. Before you get too invested you take a look at your watch.

"Oh shit it's 5 pm Already," you say looking at your watch. you groan. you should have left three hours ago but being here with Hyewon made the time fly by. you begin to pack up for the day but Hyewon has other plans. She gets up from her office chair and pulls you into a competition of who has the strongest tongue. She wins due to the element of surprise as you clumsily accept her kiss. when she breaks the kiss she looks at you with lust.

"You know what we should do?" she says

"Hang out at your place so I don't have to drive home and be stuck in 3-hour traffic?" Hyewon smiles.

"Yes that, but also we should fuck in Sakura's office as payback." Hyewon proposes. you nod and smile wickedly. the two of you walk up to Sakura's office. the golden hour shades Hyewon in an almost godly glow. you smile watching her.

"What?" she says bashfully as she catches your gaze. you laugh and say,

"I can't look at my beautiful girlfriend now?" Hyewon blushes at your words before lifting her sun dress's straps off her shoulders showing her toned and fit body.

"God I should go to the gym," you note. Hyewon shakes her head as she pulls you in for a kiss.

"and get rid of all this beefcake. I don't think so," Hyewon asserted before kissing you. Your hands run up and down her thighs, as I try to figure out what to do with my hands before Hyewon confidently puts them on her breasts. She breaks the kiss and begins to suck around your collarbone and neck.

"I want everyone in this office to know you're mine now, and there's nothing they can do because if they complain all I'll say is. I can file a complaint but I will have to report your indiscretions around Mrs. Miyawaki's policy as well." Hyewon declared before taking you into another kiss. you smiled as she began to grind her clothed pussy toward you. you moan into the kiss.

"Oh darling you're so hard for me. I love it. I have been thinking about this all morning."

You smile and say, "Oh really you dirty girl." Hyewon smiles before turning around and inviting you to pound her pussy. You don't even think twice as you strip out of your office clothes and plunge right into her. her wet cunt readily accepts your intrusion as Hyewon moans.

"Fuck your fat cock is filling me so well." you smile as you begin to thrust into her the indignation both of you felt about this stupid situation has you reeling as you pound into her pussy relentlessly. Hyewon moans enraptured by your cock as she takes it.

"yes, yes, yes. I'm close." Hyewon moans through your fervent and frustrated thrust. the both of you needed this. needed to defile your bitch of a boss's office so when she came you knew to push her onto your boss's desk as she squirted all over the wood and metal. when she was done she smeared all of her cum over the desk and made sure it was fully absorbed before going back to you.

"I want you to finish in her chair so when she comes in tomorrow she's bombarded by the smell of our sex," she says you smile at her dark little heart's desire and follow her as she guides you by the dick. she begins to stroke you while she whispers the most evil words of encouragement,

"Please cum. make her wallow in our sex. make her pay for separating us for a year and a half. Make her pay for all the times we could have movie dates, or gone to stay in nights just playing video games together. make her pay for all the stolen orgasms we could have had together. make her pay for all the time lost." her words are so enticing that your cum races out as your orgasm hits you like a train and your cum plasters her chair. Hyewon smiles and gestures for you to get both of y'all's clothes. while the two of you get dressed Hyewon says.

"I guess now you can officially say "HR has fucked me" like everyone else does" You laugh at Hyewon's terrible joke before going back to her place for the night.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #izone smut #izone fanfic #hyewon smut #izone hyewon #kang hyewon #hyewon

[wreckedandpolemic]

regret me - matty healy

(mdni) in which an enmity with a certain infuriating singer turns mutually beneficial. 11775 words.

warnings: oral (f and m receiving), semi-public sex, mild exhibitionism, praise, degradation, switch!matty

Entering Battle of the Bands at your local had started off as a joke. Mostly. Your bassist Sabrina had pointed out the poster last time you were there for drinks, and you’d signed your name. It’d be a laugh, you’d reasoned, a good way to get into playing live shows and meet some other local bands. Plus, a hundred quid cash prize couldn’t hurt.

But that was before you met Drive Like I Do. Or, more specifically, their insufferable little twerp of a lead singer, Matty.

He meets your eyes across the bar, smirking like he likes what he sees, and, honestly, he doesn’t hurt to look at, so you lift your drink in his direction and beckon him over. “Hi,” he grins. “I’m Matty. Are you staying for the show?” You nod, but he interrupts you before you can elaborate. “We’re on last, so you might have to sit through some right shit before it gets good. Have you seen some of the names on the lineup? I mean, True Romance? I bet they just named it that ‘cause it sounds pretty. Probably haven’t even seen the film.”

You glower, and it’s obviously not the reaction he expects, his face screwing up in confusion. “That’s my band. And True Romance is one of my favourite films, not that it fucking matters.” You get up from the table, scowling at him. “And I have a name, thank you so much for asking.”

Annoyingly, Matty’s right; most of the bands on the lineup are shit. But you figure that means you’ll wipe the floor with them, having actually rehearsed and learned your own songs that aren’t covers.

You look out at the crowd, adrenaline pumping in your veins as Grace tunes her guitar. This is probably the most people you’ve ever played for, you realise with a jolt, swallowing around the lump in your throat and stepping up to the mic. “Hello, everybody! How’s everyone feeling tonight? You feelin’ good? Yeah?” The crowd cheers back at you, and you grin blissfully. “Alright, I’m not here to dick about, I’m here to play some fuckin’ songs! We’re True Romance and this is Dream Girl.”

You throw yourself into the set, your hair sticking to your forehead as you sweat under the lights. Your gaze keeps wandering to Matty, sat in a booth with who you assume are his bandmates, nodding along and watching you with intrigue. He quirks an eyebrow at you and you tear your eyes away, grateful for the heat that hides the flush in your cheeks. The crowd is practically frenetic, cheering wildly as the final note whines out of the speakers, and you join hands with your bandmates and bow.

You blow a kiss to the audience and step off stage, passing Matty as he and his band take their positions. Checking the lineup, you scoff when you read the name of the band playing directly after you. Drive Like I Do? And he had the audacity to call your band’s name shit? But you quickly realise they could have the longest, most nonsensical name in the world, and it wouldn’t matter; they’re really fucking good. Matty looks like he was born for the stage, soaking up the crowd’s attention and magnifying their energy tenfold. It doesn’t even matter what they’re singing about (as far as you can tell, a video game) — every girl in the bar is screaming her head off, giggling to her friends when one of the boys so much as looks at her.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little smug that Matty won’t stop looking at you. You’re not blind, after all. Doesn’t make him not a cocky little prick. He comes straight over to you when his set finishes and you roll your eyes. “What, are you expecting me to fall at your feet ‘cause you can hit a few notes behind a mic stand?” you scoff, and he laughs.

“Oh, come on, love. No need for the only two good bands in here to be fighting. Promise I’ll buy you a drink after I win.” You scowl. “Oh, and she’s even prettier when she’s angry. Was it something I said?” he smirks.

“Fuck off and die,” you say with a saccharine smile.

Sabrina slides into the seat Matty just vacated. “He’s into you,” she says, passing you your pint with a slight wrinkle of her nose. You give her a look, and she scoffs, the pair of you so attuned to each other by now that you can communicate without words. “Oh, don’t be all you about it. He’s hot,” she laughs. “If you don’t, I will.”

“Be my guest. He’s a dick.”

She snorts into her Sex on the Beach. “The way he’s eye-fucking you? Tenner says he goes home alone tonight.” She leans in, smirking conspiratorially. “Or with you.”

You roll your eyes. Betting on a stranger’s sex life is… strangely on brand, for the two of you. “I’ll take that bet. Look at the state of him.” You wave a hand in his general direction, a pint glass in one hand and some girl’s ass in the other, her skirt hiked inappropriately high in plain view. She’s pouting, though, his attention clearly not on her even as he paws at her ass, gaze locked on you instead.

Sticking your middle finger up, you turn resolutely away as the other two members of your band wander up to the table. You lose yourself in the conversation, still wild with adrenaline from playing a proper show, and for a moment you forget why you were playing in the first place. When you’re announced as the second place holders, though, you remember, scowling openly because you know there’s only one band who could possibly be winning.

Matty extricates himself from the girls clinging onto him as the cheers start to die down and strolls over, setting a drink in front of you. “Here. Told you I’d get you a drink when I won,” he smirks, and you accept it grudgingly. Look, you’re not about to turn down a free drink, alright? “Don’t sulk, love. We…” He waves a hand, indicating both your band and his. “Collectively, wiped the floor with every other fuckin’ person in here. C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. Let me get you drunk, you won’t pay a penny, I swear.”

And as much as you want to punch his smug little face in, pour your drink over his vintage band tee, one you recognise as being horribly expensive, you’re tempted by the offer of getting smashed on Matty’s tab. Plus, Grace is giving Drive Like I Do’s bassist the eyes, so she’ll be fucking off over there either way.

So you take him up on it, downing vodka cokes until you can barely see straight, screaming in Matty’s face that Blur is obviously better than Oasis, come on! You don’t know how it happens, but you find yourself dancing with them and not hating it? Spinning breathlessly between Ross and George (who are actually pretty sound, in all honesty), you grab Grace and Sabrina by the hands and let them pull Alice, your drummer, into a circle, kicking your legs and laughing wildly.

Lost in sticky floors, thumping bass and a spirit-fuelled haze, you don’t push Matty away when his hands find your hips. You grind your hips back against him, let him press damp kisses to your neck, licking the sweat off your skin. A shudder runs down your spine, faint threads of desire creeping under your skin. “Stopped bein’ a sore loser yet?” he taunts, and your good mood vanishes like a snuffed-out candle.

You turn, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning in close. Matty’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips distractingly, the skin plush and soft. You have a sudden craving to bite down on the skin there, feel it tear beneath your teeth, taste blood in your mouth. You want him, and you want him wrecked. “You,” you say, low voice carrying all the intimacy of a kiss. “Are the most self-absorbed, insufferable piece of shit I’ve ever met. Bathroom. Five minutes.” Matty’s face splits in a wicked grin, leaning so close he could kiss you. You stay like that for a moment, sharing oxygen, the feeling of breathing him in intoxicating, like you’re drunk all over again.

The sticky air of the pub feels impossibly cold as you break away, Matty’s gaze burning into your back until you’re swallowed into the crowd, weaving your way into the bathroom. Matty clicks the door open a few moments later, glancing around furtively before slipping inside. All the air rushes from his lungs as you slam him against the door, one arm braced against his chest and the other tensed beside his head. A gratifying flash of fear crosses his face and you smirk at him, leaning close to speak against his lips. “Am I scaring you, baby?” He swallows thickly. “Good,” you breathe, connecting your lips in a harsh kiss.

Matty moans into your mouth, the taste of gin spilling from his tongue as you devour him. You kiss to hurt, to injure, to bruise, biting down on his lower lip and licking over the wound. He whimpers a little, from pain or arousal you can’t tell, but you have a sneaking suspicion it’s both. “Fuck, you kiss like an animal,” he gasps, chest already heaving.

You grin viciously. “Only when I hate you. C’mon, on your knees. I haven’t got all night.” Matty pouts a little. “Oh, what, did you think I was gonna let you fuck me? I don't know where you’ve been, you fucking whore.” His eyes widen, liquid desire pooling in his irises. “I’m waiting,” you hiss, and he obeys unthinkingly.

His hands come greedily up to your waist, fumbling with the chain looped through your jeans. Finally, he pulls it free, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Seemingly unable to resist, he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your panties, and you clench your jaw against the shudder that runs through you at the contact. “God, you’re so fucking pretty,” Matty groans, tipping his head forward so his curls brush against your lower stomach.

“Get on with it,” you growl, shoving your panties as far down your legs as they’ll go. Matty stares unabashedly at your cunt, slick with the only evidence of your desire you can’t suppress. You gasp as his fingers find your clit deftly, rough and calloused over your swollen nerves.

Without warning, Matty grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, so forcefully that you stumble on your feet. His tongue swipes through your folds, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips, and he smirks up at you. “Taste so sweet, darling. Like a fucking peach.”

You roll your eyes, gripping his hair and dragging him back to your cunt, his tongue lapping deliciously over your clit. “Use that pretty mouth for something better than talking,” you snap, moaning softly as he obliges. Matty’s fingers dig into your hips, nails biting crescents of frantic desire into your skin. He laps at you starvingly, tongue-fucking you deep and fast, the punishing rhythm making you dizzy. Heart rolls up your spine, his name poison-sweet on your tongue as you grind your hips down against his mouth.

You fist a hand in his curls, tugging sharply, Matty’s answering moan reverberating through you. “God, you are a fucking slut,” you groan, pleasure swirling low in your belly. “Like that I’m hurting you, hm?”

“Uh-huh,” he moans, indistinct and muffled as the sound vibrates through you. Liquid desire drips down your spine, pooling between your legs and melting on Matty’s tongue, hungry and sure as he buries it deep inside you. He pulls away to suck on your clit, your legs turning jelly-like as a pulse of blinding ecstasy washes over you. You aren’t sure if the bare bulb in the dingy little bathroom is flickering or if your vision is going dim, lost in mind-wiping desire as Matty braces your hips to press his tongue even deeper into you.

Whining, you clench your cunt around his tongue, holding him in place as his fingers come up to play with your clit. You’re barrelling towards an earth-shattering end, twined with the intoxicating power of having Matty whimpering on his knees. “Think you’re so much better than me, huh?” you murmur. “This is where you belong, on your fuckin’ knees for me.” He clings to you like you’re a mirage, like you’ll dissipate and leave him if he lets go, hard and begging and alone with your taste lingering on his tongue.

He draws sloppy figure-eights on your clit, euphoria spreading in your limbs, burning up your blood as you moan his name into the liquor-laced air. Your fingers scramble for purchase against the poster-plastered walls, losing your grip on reality, your impending orgasm stealing the breath from your lungs. A string of honey-slick moans fall from your lips, one hand buried in Matty’s curls as you roll your hips down against his mouth. He makes out with your cunt messily, wantonly, like he’s been starved.

“I’m so close, Jesus fuck—” you cry, slapping a palm over your mouth to keep from screaming as Matty bites down gently on your clit, the flash of pain enough to tip you over the edge. You tumble into oblivion, pleasure burning so hot in your veins that you aren’t sure you have any blood left. Matty licks at you, sucks on your clit, fucks you with his tongue as your cunt flutters around him, swallowing every drop of your arousal as you come undone on his mouth.

Matty’s eager, fucked-out grin is the first thing you see when you come back to Earth, legs weak and skull throbbing. Mustering up your dignity, you sneer down at him like he hasn’t just given you probably the best orgasm of your life in a cramped, dirty bar bathroom. “Just because I let you eat me out, you think that means I’m just gonna put your filthy fucking dick in my mouth?” you scoff. Casually swinging a leg, the tip of your boot meets Matty’s clothed cock, not quite a kick, but not much of anything else either. A helpless little moan tumbles from his lips and you laugh condescendingly, tilting his chin up so he’s looking in your eyes.

He grinds down against your boot, power thrumming heady in your veins. “Baby, please,” he whimpers, the sound dizzying and gratifying. 

“Pathetic,” you say, low and sweet. “Getting off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal. Bet you’d let me do whatever I wanted, huh?” He nods frantically, desperate to please, his jaw coming compliantly open when you pull down. A thrill steals up your spine as a wad of spit lands on his tongue, chased by a bolt of desire when he swallows obediently. “Don’t come back out until you can fucking control yourself.”

You dress yourself, Matty still panting at your feet, his chin slick with your arousal, and slip back out of the bathroom. Like you’d predicted, your friends are too hammered to question your absence much, accepting your excuse of having gone for a smoke without question. The four of you laugh and sing and dance the rest of the night, Grace slipping away with Ross at a tasteful two a.m., you and Sabrina exchanging a knowing look at her lack of subtlety. At some point, Matty had joined you again, throwing you looks so venomous you’re a little scared.

Just as you’re calling it a night, you scrawl your number on a damp napkin and shove it into his pocket. “In case you’re ever after a rematch,” you say, low enough not to be overheard, and his answering smirk is wicked.

Sabrina sighs dramatically at his retreating back. “Hate to see ‘em go, love to watch ‘em leave.” You snort, shoving her playfully. “Alright, pay up. What did I say? Alone, or with you.”

Groaning, you dig in your wallet and slap a ten-pound note in her outstretched palm. “Alice, have I ever told you you’re my favourite?” Giggling, the three of you stumble out to the taxi rank, the sting of your loss almost forgotten against the heat still tingling between your thighs.

Matty doesn’t text you until the next evening, and you’ll take the grin that split your face at the sight of his message to your grave.

So about that rematch?

Don’t beg it’s pathetic

Had enough of that last night

You know where to find me when you’re ready to put up a real fight

You don’t hear from him for a little while after that, but something tells you the pair of you aren’t done yet. Or maybe that’s just his voice in your head while you bury your hand between your thighs.

Sabrina throws a house party for her twenty-first, because she’s still barred from every good club within ten miles for underage drinking. You’re a little tipsy, a little high, singing along to the CD spinning in the player and sipping a cocktail while you wait for everyone to arrive. The house is a sweaty, heaving mass of bodies by eleven, screaming drunk as you stumble onto the patio. You’re alone except for one other boy with his back to you, his silhouette blurred in the dark as you fish for your cigarettes, alcohol making your body uncoordinated and slow to obey direction.

Sliding one between your lips, you call out, “Have you got a light?” The boy turns, and your heart skips a painfully embarrassing beat. Matty smirks back at you, annoyingly gorgeous with a cigarette dangling from his lips, clad in a floral shirt and a worn leather jacket.

“Long time no see, darling,” he grins. “Was wonderin’ if I’d run into you.” It’s a fight to rein in your thoughts, running wild as want licks up your spine. It’s fucking Pavlovian, you tell yourself, getting off to the thought of him setting off some instinctual reaction to his presence.

“Been thinking about me a lot?” you tease, privately curious as to the answer.

He steps closer, and you try not to flinch. “Oh, I’ve been pulling the absolute cock off myself thinking about how you kicked me in the dick and left me on the fucking ground. Kind of scenario wet dreams are made of,” he snaps.

You laugh like he’s recalling a fond memory to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks at the image of him touching himself. “Oh, don’t be a baby. Shouldn’t have made it so satisfying to kick you in the dick, then.”

Matty flashes his teeth. “You were plenty satisfied already, if memory serves. Jesus fuck, I’m cumming, oh, God, Matty, fuck,” he taunts, putting on a high, breathy affect of your voice, taking another predatory step towards you. He breathes smoke out over your face, the grey cloud curling in front of your eyes, blurring the planes of his face and casting him in a hazy glow.

“You’re making me want to kick you in the dick again,” you threaten, but it lacks any edge, all the fight draining out of you as Matty lifts your hand to slip your forgotten cig between your lips. The touch sparks under your skin, stacked kindling waiting to catch alight, burn you up in the blaze.

“Breathe in,” Matty says quietly, leaning in to press the end of his cigarette against yours, the flame passing between you in a shared breath, smoke burning in your lungs as you draw the moment as long as possible, pulling it like elastic between your hands.

You blow out your smoke, twin exhales staining the air between you. “Kiss me,” you murmur, a breathy plea delivered from chapped lips, blackened lungs, through cold air into unreadable honey-brown eyes.

Matty takes a deep drag on his cigarette and flicks it away, taking your jaw in both hands while the smoke sits in his mouth. You try not to envy that it curls on his tongue, your lips parting instinctively for him as it pours from his mouth into yours. Your inhale is quick, perfunctory, an aside to what comes after you blow it out. His lips are soft, your bite mark healed now, moving against yours with what you could almost mistake as tenderness. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently and pulling you flush against him.

When he slides his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help your relieved little moan, something cool and sharp and dangerous lodging itself in your ribcage. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Missed me, have you?”

“If I say yes, will you fucking touch me?” you snap.

“So needy,” he croons, fingers skirting just below the hem of your skirt. “Wanna stay out here where anyone could see how needy you are for me?”

You stamp on his foot childishly. “If anyone ever finds out I let you touch me, I’ll kill you,” you say, the threat familiar on your tongue, a fraction of your control reigned back in.

Matty laughs. “You’d miss me too much.” You scoff. “Alright, let’s find somewhere to keep this secret, then.”

You practically drag him to Sabrina’s bedroom, and he raises an eyebrow. “If I tried shagging in one of my boys’ rooms, I wouldn’t live long enough for you to kill me,” he remarks.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first guy I’ve ever fucked in here?” You don’t miss the way his grip tightens around your wrist, stiffening slightly. You don’t want to examine what that means.

He sits on the edge of her bed, legs spread and face expectant. “Your turn, love. On your knees, yeah?” You pause, and he laughs darkly. “Oh, you thought you were gonna get fucked?” he taunts, the words a mocking echo of your own, and you feel them like ice thawing in your spine. “Love, the first time I fuck you isn’t going to be in someone else’s bed at a house party. I wanna take my time with you, tear you to fucking pieces.” Your cunt pulses desperately, forcing you into obeisance even as you wear your disgust plainly on your face. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?” Matty murmurs, low and cruel as you unbuckle his belt and pull his cock free from his jeans. “Fuckin’ gagging for it, aren’t you? Go on, darling, get me hard.”

Your jaw falls open, saliva dripping from your tongue and trailing down his cock. You wrap a hand around him, his hips jolting at the contact. Pumping him slowly, his cock fills in your palm, precum sticky on your fingers when you dig your nail into his slit. You lean down, kitten-licking over the head, and he bucks his hips up with a gasp. “Someone’s eager,” you smirk, pushing his hips down with a smirk.

“Shut up before I shut you up,” he says, darkly threatening in a way that makes you believe him, arousal pooling between your legs.

Matty gathers your hair into a crude ponytail in one fist and you look up at him through your lashes. “If you push my head down, I’m biting your dick off,” you warn, lowering your head and wrapping your lips around his tip.

He moans, fighting not to thrust into the warmth of your mouth as your lips creep down his cock. “That’s it, baby. Go on, take it all. Take this filthy fucking dick. Good girl,” Matty croons, moaning as his cock bumps the back of your throat and you swallow a gag. You bob your head, inhaling deeply through your nose and trying to take all of him. Your nose meets his skin and you grin victoriously around his cock, sugary praise falling from his lips and his eyes fixed on you. “Look so pretty on your knees, baby. If you keep being good, I’ll let you swallow my cum,” he adds, and a bolt of lust strikes your core, tinged acrid with shame at letting him hold power over you.

You jam a hand between your legs, rutting wantonly against it, the friction hot as your clit grinds against the seam of your jeans through your panties. A moan spills out around Matty’s cock, the salt of him filling your mouth as he bucks his hips a little. Pulling up, you swallow around him, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. Matty moans your name, the sound so sweet in your ears that you want to press it into a vinyl, layer it in the back of a song you can listen to over and over. A string of spit connects your skin as you pull away from him, sitting back on your knees to look in his eyes. “I changed my mind,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them, an unbidden admission from a hazy head and swollen lips. “Fuck my mouth.”

Groaning, Matty lets go of your hair and brushes it out of your face when it falls. “Fuck, love, are you sure?”

You smirk up at him, holding his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, Healy, you know you want to. Fucking ruin me, wreck my voice, make me cry,” you say. It’s a demand, not a plea, and he knows it. Knows that he’ll be giving you what you want, conceding territory in your battle, letting you knock a piece off the chessboard. But he wants. His hand tangles in your hair, his eyes closing as he moves like he doesn’t want to see himself capitulate. The sting in your scalp feels like victory, the ache in your jaw a triumph. Matty fucks your mouth with abandon, dragging your head and thrusting up to meet the back of your throat, moaning as you gag around him.

You’re helpless, your panties soaked with arousal and your cunt clenching around nothing. Pure, unadulterated need rises in you, needy whines slipping out around his cock while he fucks your face like a toy. “You getting off on being used like this?” he taunts, eyes lidded and face flushed. “Little slut. Not so fuckin’ mouthy now, huh? Such a fuckin’ bitch until you’re on your knees gaggin’ on my cock.” Lewd, wet sounds fill the room, his words pushing you to the precipice of submission threatening to overwhelm. You grind pathetically against your palm, desperate for more than the feeble embers flickering in your belly. “You wanna cum, darling?” he murmurs, lifting you off him, your breaths coming hard and heavy and impossibly loud in the sudden quiet.

“Please,” you whine, past the point of caring for your fractured dignity. “M’so wet, Matty, I need it so bad.”

“I shouldn’t let you,” he says musingly. “Not after what you pulled last time.” He grins, knocking your knees apart with one booted foot. “But I’m a gentleman. These, off,” he orders, kicking at your thigh to indicate your jeans. You scramble awkwardly out of them, kicking them into a pile of Sabrina’s clothes that you’re definitely going to pick up a new shirt from later. Matty presses his boot between your thigh, the pressure on your clit so glorious you swear you almost cum, a wave of pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs. “Go on, baby. Get off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal,” he growls, your stolen words hitting you like a shock of ice water.

You hate yourself just a little as your hips roll, taking his cock in your mouth and moaning as he takes up his punishing rhythm. The lace of your panties is rough and scraping over your clit, pain and pleasure mingling in your belly and dripping on Matty’s shoe. Tension winds tight in your belly, a fist clenched so tight it almost breaks skin. Matty fucks your mouth messy and frenzied, his hand tight in your hair and your name sticking to his lips. It sounds like a curse, or maybe a prayer — is there a difference, if God doesn’t exist?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, darling, don’t stop,” Matty groans, head thrown back in rapture. You pull out every trick, swallowing and humming around him, swirling your tongue across his skin until he’s spilling in your mouth with a broken groan. “Fuck, yes, good girl, take it all,” he says. “My little cumdump,” he adds, the words striking at your core, pouring liquid heat directly over your nerves, achingly hot.

You pull off his cock with an obscene pop, opening your mouth to show off your painted-white tongue. A string of cum drips from your mouth, landing over his wet cock. You lap it up eagerly, Matty hissing at the contact to his sensitive skin. Your hips grind faster, cunt throbbing with need. With your mouth now freed, you whine out filthy pleas, tasting burning shame in the back of your throat. “Matty, please, I can’t—” you whimper, cut off when he grips your chin and forces your jaw shut, smirking meanly.

“You can, and you will. M’not gonna help you, baby. Can get off on my boot or not at all.” His cool, impassive tone is belayed by his flushed face, lips parted and eyes wide as he watches you grind pathetically against him. Pleasure coils under your skin, tangling with the burn of humiliation, your head thrown back and incoherent whines falling from your lips. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” Matty moans out, dragging you by the hair so your gaze falls back on him. “Pretty girl. Can’t wait to make you fall apart on my cock, shit.”

Your cunt throbs near-painfully, molten ecstasy turning your organs to liquid, your climax sweet and hot on the tip of your tongue. “M’so close,” you whimper, pleading little gasps stumbling from your lips. You grind your clit harshly against the tough leather of Matty’s shoe, fucking debasing yourself as you chase your orgasm. Digging your nails into his calf, you moan helplessly, gripping him like a lifeline as your head starts to float clear of your body. His eyes glitter triumphantly, holding all the power while reducing you to a pathetic, pleading mess grinding against his shoe.

Ecstasy swirls in your belly, dizzying. It’s thick in your lungs, stoppering your thoughts until all you know is Matty’s cruel little smirk, his lust-blown eyes, his shoe pressed against your cunt. Your final, last-ditch act of rebellion comes when the thread tethering you to your sanity finally snaps. You might have sunk low, lower than you ever thought you could, but you will not plead to cum on his shoe. That final thought circles as pleasure knocks you breathless, a keening wail ripping from your throat as your cunt pulses. Matty’s hand tightens in your hair as you cum, aching bliss coursing through your bloodstream. “Fuck,” you mumble, your legs weak as you crumple to the floor.

“That feel good?” Matty asks, flashing teeth.

“Fuck you,” you snap, painfully conscious of how little effect your words have when you’re on the floor below him, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks.

“I will,” he says sweetly, and you groan.

Trying not to stagger, you get to your feet. “This,” you gesture in the air between you. “Means nothing, alright? As far as everyone we know is concerned, we can’t stand each other. In fact, I can’t stand you.”

“S’that why you got on your knees so fast?” Matty smirks, still leaning insouciantly on Sabrina’s bed. You scoff, disgusted with yourself, and turn to leave. “Might wanna clean yourself up, love,” he calls as you shove the door open. “You look like you just sucked a dick.”

You don’t realise that leaving was a concession until the door clicks shut and you catch his smirk before he disappears from view. Slipping into the miraculously empty bathroom, you realise he’s right; you do look like you’ve just sucked a dick. Your hair is wild, raked through and tangled, mascara running down your face and your lipstick smeared over your chin. The matching ring that must sit around the base of Matty’s cock makes you smirk to yourself, a tangible reminder of the encounter that he’ll have to work to remove.

You manage to tame your appearance and wander back downstairs, finding Sabrina and Alice deep in conversation with Matty and George. “There you are!” Sabrina gasps, loud enough to be heard over the screaming music and loud background chatter. “Thought you’d fucked off home. Was just telling the boys about our gig,” she grins. Oh, right. Your actual fucking gig, where you have to play your songs to a crowd of fans there for somebody else, and somehow hold their attention for an entire set. And you’d just stopped feeling fucking nauseous about it.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me?” Matty says, mocking in a way that only you can sense, prodding at a wound only he can see.

“Oh, please.” You pour yourself a strong drink and take a long sip before you continue. “I’d rather not spew over the front row seeing your ugly fucking mug in the crowd.” George snorts and Sabrina swats your arm.

“Don’t be a cowbag, it’s my birthday,” she scolds, eyes lighting up as they land on an undrunk bottle of tequila. “I know how to loosen you up a bit,” she grins, brandishing the bottle and digging in the fridge for a net bag of limes. “Body shots!” She spins around, wiggling her eyebrows, and you tip your head back with a groan.

She grabs a knife from the kitchen drawer and wobbles over to the counter to start chopping the limes, forcing you to your feet before she lands herself in A&E. “Calm down there, Ghostface,” you laugh, grabbing the knife before she can do any damage. Slicing the limes into neat wedges with bartender-practised ease, you grin at Sabrina and clamp a slice between your teeth. She brushes salt across the top of your tit, her tongue hot over your skin when she licks it up. The shot glass slams on the counter before you even register that she’s picked it up, her lips ghosting against yours as she bites into the flesh of the fruit, the juice spilling across your mouths.

You spit the rind to the floor and cup her jaw, melting into a passionate kiss like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Licking the taste of lime out of her mouth, one of your hands threads in her hair, and Ross whistles. “Fucking hell, are we interrupting something?”

Sabrina snorts. “If that’s got you blushing, the things we’ve done to each other would make your head spin, pretty boy.”

You risk a glance at Matty, rooted to the spot with eyes as wide as saucers, like he can’t believe what he just saw. Interesting. “Who’s next?” you crow, delivering the words as a deliberate taunt to him. “I’ll even take my top off, give you some more space to work with,” you grin, peeling off your top and gratuitously squeezing a tit. 

“Do we get a snog, too?” George smirks, getting to his feet.

Sweeping your hair off your neck, you tilt your head and smile tantalisingly. “Only if you’re good.” Matty’s jaw clenches. Very interesting. Salt scrapes over your skin as George licks you clean, something molten and dangerous pooling in your core at Matty’s intense eye contact. George bites the lime out of your mouth and spits it to the floor, his lips finding yours waiting.

He’s a good kisser, his mouth sure and firm against yours, tongue brushing against your lips as he cups your jaw. Parting your lips for him, the sharp taste of lime lands on your tongue once again, George tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling slightly when he pulls away. Matty looks at you like you’re a future regret, like the narrative is written and he’s only stepping into his role when he comes towards you.

Ever overdramatic and impaired by liquor, you drape yourself over the table, lifting your head to grin up at him. Matty reaches for a shot glass, and you chide him, meeting his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, it’s called a body shot, after all,” you goad, and he swallows, gripping the neck of the tequila like a lifeline.

“You’re insane,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. The liquor is cold as he pours it into your belly button, splashing from his trembling hands. The muscles of your stomach twitch, contradictory heat pooling in your core as anticipation creeps under your skin. Salt pours between the valley of your tits, Matty cleaning it off eagerly as you fight not to squirm. You swallow a gasp as Matty sucks and licks the alcohol from your body, the feeling of his tongue swirling gratuitously against you falling straight to your cunt.

With a grimace, Matty straightens, leaning down to grip the lime between his teeth, sharp tartness soaking your bruised lips once again. You savour the sting, Matty’s eyes wide with desire as he leans in. The kiss is messy, all top lip and tongue as you lick the tequila out of his mouth, slowly sitting up and slinging your arms around his neck.

One of his hands tangles in your hair, the rest of the world melting away the longer you lose yourself in his kiss, reality tunnelling down to Matty’s skin on yours. He exhales regret against your lips, pulling away slowly and thumbing over your swollen lip. Fuck, that stings. Matty smirks like he can read your thoughts, like your pain is sweet on his lips.

“Jesus, get a room!” Sabrina scoffs, chucking a lime at your head that you don’t have the facilities to dodge. Matty goes red, wrenching his gaze away from you and fumbling for a cigarette before stumbling out of the room. Sabrina squints at the space he vacated. “Like, will the two of you just fuck already? Instead of subjecting us to whatever that was?”

You glare, folding your arms and screwing up your face as if you can’t think of anything worse. “Don’t be gross.”

Sabrina gets up, turning to face the room at large. “Right, show of hands. Who thinks she just needs to fuck Matty and get it over with.” Six hands go up, and you scowl. Okay, maybe you do want to fuck him, but does everybody need to know about it?

“Please,” groans George. “He’s insufferable when he gets like this about a girl.” He puts on a high effect of Matty’s voice, and you snort. “‘Oh, do you think she’s gonna be there? Will she like this shirt? Does my hair look pretty?’” You roll your eyes, praying the heat in your cheeks is indistinguishable from the flush of the alcohol.

“Ugh,” you say, forcing a shudder. “Get me checked for a brain tumour if I ever fall for that.” You grab the discarded bottle. “Anyway, I’m done being a shot glass. Someone else’s turn.”

Your head spins as you take shot after shot, licking salt from Sabrina’s neck, Ross’ chest, George’s belly. The passage of time slips from your grasp, and before you know it, the party’s mostly over. The last few stragglers are drifting out, Sabrina nowhere to be seen, having slipped upstairs with a girl you vaguely recognise from high school about half an hour ago. Probably shouldn’t tell her that she’s not gonna be the first (or even second) person to get off in her room tonight.

You end up crashing out on the couch, stripping out of your tight jeans and leaving them crumpled next to you — your shirt is long gone. Not a big deal, you can nab one of Sabrina’s in the morning. By some miracle, your headache in the morning is only mild, easily quelled with a glass of water and some painkillers. The house is still, the previous night lingering in sticky floors and plastic cups littering every surface.

One of Sabrina’s guitars is propped against the wall, and picking it up unlocks a vague memory of picking the beginnings of your first song on it, before you had one of your own. You smile fondly, lifting it into your lap and kicking one leg over the arm of the sofa. Your fingers move instinctively, coaxing out the melody you’ve been working on, repeating it over and over and groaning when the next notes just won’t come.

“You’re really good.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still here?”

Matty shrugs, sloping into the chair next to you, seemingly indifferent to your matching states of undress. “Hann was designated driver, and he fucked off somewhere between the body shots and the karaoke,” he snorts. “Brina said I could stay.”

“Don’t call her Brina,” you snap. “You’re lucky she’s so nice. If it was up to me, you’d be in a ditch somewhere right now. Or flattened on the motorway. Wouldn’t that be nice…” you say, wistful as if you’re daydreaming about his viscera splattered across tarmac.

“You’re such a bitch.” It’s a compliment, you can tell, despite his derisive expression.

Not dignifying him with a response, your fingers creep across the strings, plucking out a familiar riff that you can’t quite place. Matty’s smug little grin flashes you back to the day you met, and you realise with disgust that you’re playing the first four notes of Robbers over and over. Your scowl silences the taunt on Matty’s lips. “Shut the fuck up and stop looking at me like that before I make you.”

Matty shudders, shifting in his chair. “You’re so mean. Who hurt you?”

“This conversation is hurting me. Talking to you feels like voluntarily hitting my own head with a brick.” Matty just smirks at you, conspicuously dropping his hands into his lap. “Oh, my god. Is this getting you hard?” you scoff.

An infuriating smirk creeps across Matty’s face “I can’t help it,” he says. “You’re hot when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m always fuckin’ mad at you.”

“Exactly.” His grin is filthy, legs spread wide as your eyes trail down to where his cock is straining against his boxers.

Still plucking idly at the guitar, you speak without looking at him. “Touch yourself for me,” you say, snorting as Matty chokes on his inhale.

He makes a spluttering little sound, and you don’t look up from the guitar in your lap. “Are you being serious? Here? Now?”

You shrug. “You don’t have to. But don’t pretend you don’t want to. Go on, give me a show. S’just about the only thing you’re good for.”

Matty moans, the resolve in his face visibly crumbling as you lift your gaze to meet his. His cock is flushed and dripping as he frees it from his boxers, throwing his head back with a groan. Heat creeps across your cheeks, the display of him obscene. Arousal clenches in your belly as your name spills involuntarily from his lips, cock disappearing into his fist as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that,” you murmur, breathing slow and deep to keep yourself controlled. Matty’s moans are sweet and syrupy in your ear, low and melodic against your skin. Almost without your knowledge, your fingers dance across the guitar strings, pulling the next notes of your broken melody free instinctively as you watch him. “So pretty like this, baby. Know you can be louder than that. Let me hear you, yeah?”

Slick sounds fill the room, tangling with his moans flowing freely from his lips. Your cunt is dripping in your panties, pleading for attention as Matty fucks his fist, the guitar finally abandoned in your lap. Your hips shift needily against the sofa, the tiniest pulse of pleasure humming through you. “Come here,” he groans, the dominance in his tone sudden and intense.

“What did you just say?” you say, tone carrying a low threat that you don’t even think he notices.

“Can’t make a mess, can I? C’mere, come finish me off. Can see how fuckin’ needy you are from here, love.”

Carefully sliding the guitar off your lap, you stand so you’re towering over him. He gazes openly at your tits, cupped together in your bra, breath hot against your skin. “Who,” you say, voice gentle but full of steel, sliding a hand into his curls. “Do you think you’re talking to?” you demand, fisting your hand and dragging Matty’s eyes up to meet yours, his little pained whimper falling straight to your cunt. “You fucking piece of shit,” you scoff, lowering yourself into his lap. “Get your hands off.” He obeys with a whimper, and you laugh scornfully. God, he’s too fucking easy. “You fucking disgust me,” you murmur against his lips, low and reverent like you’re pouring praise against his mouth. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?”

You tuck him back into his boxers, rolling your hips down and tipping your head back as pleasure runs through you. “M’sorry,I—” You press two fingers against his lips to silence him.

“Gonna let you get off like this. That way you’re only making a mess of yourself, yeah? Say thank you, baby.” Matty ruts his hips up against yours, hungry lips meeting your neck and greedy hands tangling in your hair.

“Th-thank you,” he stammers, breath shaky against your neck. Want pulses sickly in your belly, rising into your chest and squeezing hard as Matty bucks his hips. It doesn’t take long until your name pours free from his lips, tangled in moans and expletives, and he goes limp under you.

Despite your desperate cunt screaming out in protest, you climb off his lap and smile patronisingly down at him. “Fucking filthy,” you say, staring down at his soaked boxers and committing the sight of him to memory, chest flushed and heaving. “You can get dressed and get the fuck out, now. Hope nobody points out the cum stain.”

Matty gives you a look that’s pure loathing, tinged with needy lust, and you jerk your head at him as if to say go on. “Just you wait,” he mutters darkly. “Just you fucking wait. I’ll fucking wreck you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You don’t see Matty face-to-face for a little while after that, but that doesn’t mean he stops plaguing you. A concerning number of your nights are spent with your phone on your pillow, listening to him moan in your ear as you fuck yourself on your fingers. You have to bite down on his name when you’re fucking other guys, the word bitter as you swallow it back down, longing to spill free. It only makes you hate him more.

You hadn’t thought he’d actually come see you play, but George and Ross’ silhouettes are unmistakeable in the crowd of fans screaming for the band you’re opening for. As is the head of dark curls next to them. Your heart catches in your throat, bleeding over your tongue as you step up to the mic stand. The lights shine into your eyes, adrenaline pumping and nerves jangling. You introduce yourself, introduce the band, the few scattered whoops not even making a dent against the unimpressed faces of the front row. George shoots you an encouraging grin, clapping over his head to make sure you see, and it soothes you a little; enough that your body loosens and you can coax your fingers into strumming on your guitar.

By the third song, you’ve relaxed into it, instinctive. Your hair is plastered to your forehead, jewellery tangled around your neck, sweating into your shirt. The crowd has warmed up a little, nodding their heads and swaying, even a few people singing your choruses back at you. You feel electric, a current zapping through you and echoing out of the speakers. Matty is transfixed, you can just about see — his gaze hasn’t left you for more than two seconds at a time since your set started. His thoughts are so plain on his face that you can practically hear them, filth pouring from him and pooling around you, warming your core and… Jesus. Focus.

Mentally dousing yourself in ice water, you lean close to the mic and catch Matty’s eyes. “This next song… I feel like it’s a story every girl knows. You’re at a bar, you’ve had a few drinks, and you’re lookin’ for a bit of fun, right? And you meet a boy and you think he could be the one, at least for tonight. Then he opens his mouth,” you pause as everyone laughs. “And he just won’t. Stop. Talking!” You launch into the song, unable to keep the grin off your face as Matty recognises the melody, the one you played while you watched him get himself off. The memory heats you from the inside out, identical film reels flickering in both your and Matty’s heads as your insides burn with desire.

Apparently, the song resonates with more than a few, the crowd and the cheers wilder with every song now you’ve finally attracted their attention. Disappointment twinges in your gut as you realise you’re onto the last song. “You guys have been fucking phenomenal tonight. You looking forward to the main event?” Obviously, the crowd cheers louder than they have for you all night. You try not to take it to heart, though. “Thank you guys so much for having us, seriously. You up for one more song? Yeah? Let’s fuckin’ go!” Adrenaline rushing to your head and inflating your ego, you grip the hem of your shirt and tug it up to your neck, soaking in the cheer that goes up as you show off your bare tits.

There’s only one reaction you care about, though, Matty’s jaw going slack and his gaze hot and heavy against your skin. The room melts away, the tension stringing between you a living thing that roots you to the spot. The fuse is lit and you know it, can’t stamp it out. All that’s left is to find out which of you ignites first.

You slip into the back of the crowd just before the main act starts, and immediately get suckered into a sweaty, congratulatory group hug from the boys. You don’t even push Matty off when he smacks a kiss at your temple, his low good fucking girl murmured in your ear making you shudder.

The band you opened for are a little stuck-up, but nice enough, so you take them up on their offer to celebrate after. Their frontman’s grin when he tells you to bring some friends, if you like tells you that he’s going to be very fucking disappointed, though, when the friends you bring are four blokes from a well-known local band instead of the girls he’s clearly imagining. His face falls when he sees them, pushing off to chat up a group of girls hovering around the bar.

Which leaves the eight of you in the now-familiar position of being crammed into a too-small booth, with you once again half on Matty’s lap. “Can’t believe you wrote a song about me. You’re too sweet, darling, you shouldn’t have.” he remarks, and you swing your heel back and laugh at his hiss when it connects with his shin.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first good-looking asshole I’ve ever met in a bar? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You think I'm good-looking?” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, too comfortable pushing your buttons in public. You need to grind him beneath your heel, put him back in his fucking place.

You drop your hand under the table, tracing circles in his thigh and feeling the muscles tense under your touch. “And he’s got selective hearing, too. Who's surprised?”

His hips shift needily against your hand, squirming as he tries to force you into giving him what he wants. “Oh, come on, darling. We both know this only ends one way.” He’s full of shit, false bravado layered deliberately in his voice that you can see through like he’s wrapped in cellophane. 

“In your dreams,” you bite out, pressing your hand against his cock in the same moment, kneading softly and watching blood rush into his cheeks as he swallows down a moan.

“Oh, every night, darling.”

Sabrina gags, breaking the two of you out of the bubble you’d been in, the hazy edges of your reality suddenly back in sharp focus. “Can you two stop being gross for two fucking seconds, please? For all our sakes?”

Rolling your eyes, you set your drink down on the table, dangerously close to the edge. “Oh, it’s my fault he’s fucking obsessed with me?” you scoff. “Read my fucking lips, Healy. Never. Gonna. Happen.”

You focus back into the conversation, relishing in the way Matty’s responses fall shorter and shorter as you tease, his voice going weak and breathy with barely-concealed need. With your free hand, you pull your phone out to type him a text.

i was fucking incredible on that stage today

hope youre ready for a long fucking night

not gonna stop unless you beg me.

Matty’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly as his gaze flickers across the screen, staring resolutely forward even as his hips shift and his cock fills under your palm. You slide your other hand under Matty’s jeans and boxers a moment later, his cock twitching needily in your palm. His knee jolts at the feeling of your hand against his bare skin, sending your full glass toppling over him, covering him in a sticky combination of soda and alcohol.

Withdrawing your hand, you gasp, turning and pretending to fuss over him. “Fuck’s sake, Matty, you- Oh, my God!” You give a spluttering laugh. Matty’s eyes go wide with fear, pleading with you as he correctly predicts your next words. “Do you have a boner?” you demand incredulously, pulling away from him in fake disgust. The table erupts into laughter, Matty’s face fire-engine red as his hands fall to his lap in a desperate attempt to preserve what’s left of his dignity. Oh, God, he looks so fucking good embarrassed like this, and it makes you squirm a little in your seat to know the humiliation is just turning him on more.

“He totally fucking does!” crows Sabrina, cackling and craning her neck for a better look.

“What’s got you all worked up, mate?” George taunts. “Been so long since you got your dick wet that you’re popping one from being next to a hot girl?”

“No,” Matty snaps. “I mean– I get my dick wet plenty, thank you very much. And I don’t have a boner,” he adds, attempting to push past you and escape. “I just— not feelin’ well. I should go.”

You elbow him harshly, and he winces, biting his tongue around a whine. “Aw, George, you think I’m– give me a second, sex pest, I’m having a conversation– you think I’m hot?”

He grins. “I think you’re a knockout, love. Hey, are you free tonight?”

You snort. “Not for you,” you shoot back, George holding his hand to his chest, mock-affronted. You finally take pity on Matty and let him out of the booth, surreptitiously sliding your hand into his pocket and dropping your spare key. Dramatic? Yes. A bit much? Maybe. But you’ve never claimed to be anything less. “I know it’s gonna be tough, but try not to stick your dick in anything that’ll cause permanent damage on the way home!” you can’t resist shouting at his retreating back. When he’s gone, you pull out your phone to text him your address.

go and wait for me, sit on your hands if you have to, but do not fucking touch yourself

if you’re good, i *might* let you cum tonight

do u want me to break in or something

check ur pocket

you’re insane

ill be home in an hour

can u behave until then?

He doesn’t answer, and you’re looking forward to finding out what that means. You stay for another two rounds, anticipation thrilling in your belly at the prospect of what (or rather, who) is waiting for you at home. Walking into your bedroom, you find Matty face-down on your bed and grinding desperately against your sheets, still fully-clothed as needy little whines slip from his lips. “God, you are just fucking pathetic, huh?” you murmur, your thighs clenching at the pretty picture he makes.

Matty gasps. “M’not touchin’, m’not touchin’,” he promises frantically, and you click your tongue.

“I know, baby. But that doesn’t look much like sitting on your hands, either,” you murmur, peeling out of your shirt and kicking off your jeans. “Couldn’t even be a good boy for me for an hour? Worthless little slut,” you scoff, and he whimpers in response. “Least you kept that pretty dick hard for me. Does that feel good? Grinding on my sheets like a little fucking whore?”

He whimpers, still face-down but not moving, like he won’t be able to control himself if he lays eyes on you. “Yes. M’sorry, feels good. Not as good as you. Didn’t mean to be bad, m’sorry,” he babbles, his desperation obvious.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” you order. Matty obeys instantly, a punched-out groan slipping from his lips as he takes in the sight of you, his eyes glued to the silver barbells glinting teasingly in your nipples. You snap the waistband of your panties against your waist, the action beckoning his gaze down your body. “D'you think I look pretty?” He nods furiously, but you cut him off before he can start lavishing you with praise, rolling your eyes condescendingly. “Didn’t wear it for you, before you start. Thought maybe I’d finally find some hot guy to take me home and fuck me like I deserve,” you hiss, climbing onto the bed next to him. Taking his jaw in your hand, you brush his curls out of his face. Matty shudders under your touch, pliant and needy as he melts into your palms. “Do you think you can fuck me like I deserve, Matty?”

His pride wars openly with desire in his face, eyes glassy as his tongue flickers out to wet his lips. “No,” he says finally, the admission ghosting feebly against your lips. He succumbs so sweetly that you press your lips against his, licking the taste of sugary surrender from his mouth.

“That’s what I thought. I could be getting fucked right now, you know. Could’ve had any man I wanted. But no. I get your whining, pathetic ass in my bed instead, fuckin’ rubbing yourself off on my sheets like a disgusting animal. S’bad enough that you’re making me do all the fucking work, least you could do is behave,” you snap, and Matty squirms, your cruel words rooting in his brain, digging claws tearing his every coherent thought to shreds.

“Can make you feel good, promise,” he whimpers. “Let me make you feel good, let me make it up to you, please,” Matty begs, reaching out to tug at the elastic of your waistband.

You slap his hand away, and he whines. “Behave. So greedy,”  you chide. “Did I say you could touch me?”

“N-no.”

“Do you think you deserve to touch me?”

“I— no.” You grin, wide and predatory, and tug his shirt off over his head, running your hand down his slim, toned chest. Unbuckling his belt, you help him out of his jeans, the sticky, wet spot near the waistband of his boxers evident and growing.

You thumb over it gently, pressing the digit into Matty’s mouth as he moans and accepts it eagerly, swirling his tongue pornographically. “So fucking wet,” you murmur. “Needy little whore soaking his pants for me,” you tease. “Come here,” you order, sliding your panties down your legs, cool air kissing at your wet cunt. Matty scrambles to obey, laying between your legs and gazing up at you adoringly, seemingly unsure where to look as his eyes dart between your face, your nipple piercings catching the light, and your glistening cunt inches from his lips. “Go on. Beg for it. Beg for the privilege of touching me, of tasting me, of making me cum.”

“Fuck- fuck. Please let me get you off, sweetheart. Let me taste your pretty pussy, let me make you feel good, make you forget everything. Please just fuckin’ use me, I want— mmph!” You cut him off, pulling his face into your cunt by his hair, his pained little whimper spiralling deliciously through your body.

“Forgot how fucking annoying the sound of your voice is,” you groan, rolling your hips up against Matty’s face as he licks at your cunt like melting ice cream. “Put that mouth of yours to better use, hm?” You take his wrist in a punishing grip as he attempts to slide it up your thigh. “God, it’s like you don’t even want to cum. I never said you could touch me. Can make me cum with just your mouth or you can get up and walk out of here with nothing but that little problem between your legs, okay?”

Matty mumbles something that sounds vaguely agreeing into your cunt, pleasure coiling in your veins as Matty makes out with your hole sloppily. “Thank you s’much for lettin’ me… taste so fucking good, baby,” he moans, whining pitifully when you tug harshly on his curls.

“Don’t talk.” Your grip in his hair is punishing as he whimpers into your cunt, sucking and licking like a man starved. “God, such a fuckin’ slut, baby. You like it when I hurt you, hm?” His muffled moan of yes, fuckin’ love it vibrates through you, shivering pleasure ricocheting through every corner of your body. Matty sucks greedily on your clit, your hips bucking and legs kicking in the air.

It would be a lie to say knowing he’s getting off on the degradation doesn’t turn you on beyond belief. Your cunt pulses against his mouth, his tongue starving and wild over your clit. Matty tongue-fucks you, ravenous, his moans vibrating through your body deliciously. “Fuck,” you moan out, pulling hard on his curls to grind his face harder into your cunt. Heat thrums under your skin, biting your lip so hard you taste blood to swallow your moans. You must be suffocating him, his tongue buried deep in your cunt, but he just keeps going. A moan tears free, low and shameful, and he redoubles his efforts, swirling his tongue over your clit. You’re writhing under his attentions, dripping in his mouth as he starts tongue-fucking you at a dizzying pace. Tension pulls tight in your belly, close and electric under your skin as you clench around his tongue, Matty’s name spilling free from your mouth in a crazed entreaty, tugging on his hair just to feel his answering moan spiral through you. 

His teeth scrape over your clit, the flash of pain finally tearing you loose from your body, ecstasy cascading over you as your cunt pulses against Matty’s mouth. He laps at your dripping cunt, bliss flooding against his tongue as your body wracks with sensation. “That’s right,” you groan, desire pulsing through you, leaking into the corners of your body with every thud of your wild, insistent heartbeat. “Fuckin’ swallow my cum. All of it. Yeah, just like that. Good boy.” The words only spur him on, cleaning you up with helpless enthusiasm, essentially locking himself into an impossible task. Every swipe of his tongue only serves to make you wetter, his moans stirring arousal that pools in his mouth. You pull him off you by his hair, tugging him up to meet you.

Matty grins, already hazy and fucked-out, his lips and chin soaking wet. You commit the sight to memory for a second, bruised lips and lidded eyes, your own personal, yielding little doll. “Thank you,” he says without prompting, and you grin. All it takes is a few sugared words, and he’s putty in your hands.

“Been such a good boy,” you croon, swiping your thumb across his mouth and sucking your own taste off your skin. “You wanna fuck me?”

A flash of something dances across his face, some aborted desire he’s not brave enough to voice dying on his tongue. “Yeah. I– yeah. I want that. Really bad. But… I might not… last, uh, very long. M’so fuckin’ hard, I just want–”

You prise open his jaw, silencing him as his eyes go wide. “Don’t push your luck. I’m letting you cum, ‘cause you’ve been such a good boy for me. Cum without my permission and I’ll make you wish you weren’t born,” you threaten lowly, spitting in his open mouth to seal your words.

He swallows eagerly, nodding hard. “Okay. Uh-huh, okay. M’sorry. Won’t cum, I swear.” You push him onto his back, staring impassively down at him as you straddle his waist. “Can you– I want– please,” he stammers, words tripping over themselves to escape his mouth as you laugh meanly down at him. 

You dig your nails into his chest, anchoring yourself and scraping a mark into his skin. You start to trace your first initial, something droning and possessive buzzing in your ears, then think better of it. Slowly, you circle your hips, teasing the tip of his cock at your dripping hole. “You want me? Want me to fuck you like this?” Matty grasps needily at your hips, whimpering uncontrollable pleas into the thick, lust-drenched air of your room. He cries out as you slam your hips down, unable to stopper the moan that falls from your lips as your cunt stretches wide around him.

Grinding your clit against his stomach, you gasp as Matty thrusts up into you, fucking you impossibly deep. “Shit, Matty,” you hiss, pleasure pulsing under your skin. His gaze is fixed on your tits as you bounce on his cock, timed with his thrusts so he fills you as deep as possible. Running a hand up your body, you squeeze one of your tits, twisting the barbell just enough that it smarts a little, a pained gasp weaving effortlessly between your moans. You whine as Matty’s calloused fingers come up to circle roughly over your clit; sloppy like he can barely control his limbs. “Fuck, baby. You tryin’ to get me off faster so I don’t notice how quick you cum?” You grab his jaw so he can’t look away. “Pathetic.”

Matty doesn’t even speak, just moans helplessly as you ride him, rolling your hips and bouncing on him. Liquid heat pools in your veins, your thighs starting to burn and your heart pumping ecstasy into every nerve of your body. The slick sounds of your hips meeting echo off the walls, tangling with heavy breaths and wanton moans in a lurid melody you wish you could press to vinyl. Your nails dig into his shoulders so hard you break skin, leaving a tangible, lasting mark in the unblemished marble of his skin.

You circle your hips, head swimming with desire. Matty’s desperate little moans only turn you on more, his hips stuttering as he gets closer. Pleasure hums under your skin, a soft throb in the back of your skull and the base of your spine. Your thighs are beginning to burn with the effort, but you barely feel it as you fuck him harder, chasing your own release as it hangs tantalisingly out of reach. “You feel so good,” Matty whines, breathless and needy as he fucks up into you with abandon. His blunt nails dig into your hips, pulling you down to drive deeper into you. White spots dance in your vision, everything in your world going hazy but the point where Matty’s skin meets yours. 

Pleasure courses up your spine in a sweet, sparkling arc, moans flowing freely as Matty’s fingers tease back over your swollen clit. “Fuck, feels so fuckin’ good,” you gasp. “Doin’ so well, baby. Gonna make me cum all over your cock, yeah?” He moans, rubbing tight, frantic circles at your clit. Tension coils tightly in your belly, the thread pulling taut until it finally snaps, arousal burning up your veins and flooding out against his skin, moaning helplessly as he keeps fucking into you. Dizzy, you fall forward, bracing your arms over Matty’s head and cunt pulsing around his cock. Matty’s lips close around your nipple, licking and sucking feverishly as you ride out your orgasm. “Shit,” you mutter, his other hand twisting your piercing as he groans, every motion tinged maniacal with need. “Did so well, Matty. You gonna cum for me? Go on, baby. Fuckin’ fill me up, yeah?”

Your words tip him over the edge, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, moaning your name around your tit. He gasps and whines, writhing helplessly under you. “God, feels so fuckin’ good,” he moans. “Thank you s’much,” he adds, smiling dopily up at you as you climb off him and test your weight on your feet before you stand. When you come back from cleaning yourself up, Matty’s dressed again, looking so miserable that you can’t help but take pity on him. “I’m goin’, don’t worry.”

You scoff. “Come back here.” Matty freezes, spinning on his heel so comically slowly that you stifle a giggle. “Jesus. I’m not evil. S’fucking freezing out there, I’m not making you trek back to fucking Wilmslow after that.” Matty just stares, and you roll your eyes. “Come back before I change my mind.”

Matty strips to his boxers embarrassingly fast, but you kind of don’t have it in you to tease when he slots himself sweetly into your arms. It’s almost… nice. Blech. “Did I do good?” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleep-thick.

You scratch your nails over his head and he hums happily. “Yeah, did so good, baby. Dunno what happened to all that shit you were talking about wrecking me, though. Kinda seemed like the other way around…” you tease.

He laughs softly. “I’ll get another chance. Gonna look so pretty crying on my cock, love.”

“Promises, promises,” you say, the muscles of his stomach tensing as you trace idle patterns in his skin. “Are you gonna keep them?”

“Piss me off enough and you’ll find out.”

Excitement thrills in your belly, the words sealing the two of you into some kind of promise, a brutal, delicious game of chess that you honestly couldn’t predict the winner in. “You know I will.”

#remember when i said this was gonna be shorter than white and gold #Whoops lol #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #writing #smut #regret me

[holmsister]

All jokes and horny aside I think my favourite thing about labru is that. They both suffer from a very strange sort of loneliness.

All of Laios' friends are either Falin's friends first or coworkers that only befriended him after he proved himself a good boss. Kabru is the first person to meet Laios and be like. 'I want to be his friend i want to understand him'. Even after getting reasonably closer and getting a good look at what a freak he is hes still like. 'He's a good man and he's gonna be a good king and I want to call myself his friend'.

And meanwhile Kabru is so used to rebuild himself into whoever the other person might find charming and Laios is the first person hes met on which not only this does not work but it backfires. The first person who sees Kabru fumble his words and speak his heart and say 'this one. This is the one i want to be friends with, not the nice fake one'.

A definition of loneliness that is about being in the middle of others and feeling like you're under a glass dome separating you from everyone else. Wanting to be a monster vs fearing being a monster which in both cases just means that your human skin does not fit. Spending years dreaming of the day you just can have a drink with someone without a voice in the back of your head telling you you are doing it wrong, you are BEING wrong.

And it takes months years even of beers together in the evening and walks and afternoons spent studying and prepping for whatever big event and talking casually that turns into deep conversations and sometimes arguments and then making peace and realising the other will not just drop you because you disagreed on one thing... slowly but surely until one evening after beers you'll realise. Oh you are like me. You cannot make the voice go away but you hear it too. You are also under the glass dome. Maybe we can be alone together. Do you understand what I mean is this thing on

#dungeon meshi spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #labru #dungeon meshi post canon #im so sick i should be brought behind the shed and put down #fucking yaoi man. wtf

[seouljazzbar]

could you do something about your sextape with the riize members? just what it would be like in general

i hope this is what you meant anon! includes nsfw links! proceed at your own risk

SHOTARO

I could be completely off base about this, but Shotaro would be a little nervous! He loves you and gets hard at just the idea of filming the two of you, but something about it makes his palm slick with nerves: so he really makes it a point to make the video about the two of you, ignoring the camera and making sweet love to you like there’s no one else in the world. He wouldn’t have to bother himself with the responsibility of making it look cinematic, as long as the camera captures how good he’s making you feel. His lips stay pressed against yours for most of it, whispering sickeningly sweet dirty talk for your ears only.

EUNSEOK

I’m not gonna like, Eunseok wants you to put on a show for him. If you’re gonna film it, might as well go all out, right? He’d be so vocal, encouraging you to get off just using him for your own pleasure. He’s so mesmerized by you that he completely forgets that you guys are even filming, switching to taking over just as you’re about to cum on his cock. Oh, my god, he’d be so cocky afterwards knowing that he caught your shrieking orgasm on camera and can watch it back as many times as he pleases. He’d mock you lovingly by reminding you just how desperate you sounded screaming “Eunseok! Fuck, right there, feels s-so good!”

SUNGCHAN

I feel like Sungchan would make you the center of attention, mainly because the tape in question would get the most play out of him. He’d pass on going out with the members to explore whatever city they’re doing promo in so he could have the room to himself, sextape playing at full volume in his headphones while he jerks his swollen cock to the procured memory of you bouncing on his cock. The memory of laving your breasts with his tongue in desperate strokes, trying to remember exactly how you tasted rocking your hips back and forth like a certified pornstar. From then on, it’d be one of his favorite (private) nicknames for you: my little pornstar

WONBIN

Oh, immediately yes. Wonbin’s agreeing to it before you even finish asking. But instead of a video where he’s fucking you, it’d be a video of you fucking him. He’s not shy to make the distinction when you guys are chatting specifics, and holy hell is he glad he spoke up. You fuck him with your strap so good that he sees stars, blacking out after his third orgasm of the night. The two of you have always been switches, but the routine of your relationship led to him taking control more than you did. But this? Capturing his whiny, fucked out cries for release with you pound his little hole? He couldn’t have written it better himself.

SEUNGHAN

Been there, done that. I feel like Seunghan would suggest sextapes fairly early on into the relationship, something you both were unspokenly on the same page about. You guys just match each other’s freak, and recording yourselves is nothing new for the two of you. He has a private folder that he refuses to even hint at having to any of his friends (your privacy is oh so important to him, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if anyone saw your intimate videos together). Whenever you guys try out something new in the bedroom, he props up the camera to capture it just in case. Your moans and cries are the soundtrack to his own personal erotic film collection.

SOHEE

Sohee agrees on the condition that you’re in control. It’s not a non-negotiable, but he knows that watching the tape back will be ten times hotter if he gets to hear you boss him around. Calling him a good boy while you bounce on his cock close enough for the camera to see every drop of slick that you have to offer. It would drive him crazy, thanking his lucky stars that he’s blessed enough to have you as his girlfriend. The video would make him cum so fast, but he wouldn’t be embarrassed– that just meant he got to start it from the beginning again.

ANTON

The only reason Anton agrees to a sextape is because you seem so excited by the idea :( he doesn’t wanna burst the bubble you’re in when you propose the idea to him, all smiley and turning up the charm. He’d do anything to make you happy, as long as he can lay down some boundaries: the only one being no faces. He’d fuck you better for it anyway, grabbing onto your hips with a grip that’ll certainly bruise, calling you a spoiled brat that would do anything if it meant getting fucked. He never admits it to you (mainly because you get all I told you so! about it)but he watches the tape any time he’s horny and you’re not around. Watching himself drill into your tight little pussy never gets old for him

#riize hard hours #riize scenarios #riize smut #riize imagines #riize x reader #wonbin hard hours #park wonbin smut #wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #wonbin smut #anton smut #anton imagines #lee anton smut #anton x reader #shotaro x reader #shotaro smut #shotaro imagines #shotaro scenarios #osaki shotaro smut #eunseok smut #eunseok x reader #song eunseok smut #eunseok imagines #eunseok scenarios #sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #sohee x reader #lee sohee x reader

[petew21-blog]

Bad dog

"No! Bad! Bad dog... bad boy!" jesus, now he's drinking water from the puddle. If anybody sees this I don't know how I'm gonna be explaining this

You see. The guy drinking from the puddle is... my bestfriend Finn. We have been the best mates since forever. I have been in love with him platonically, but he was definitely straight. I think he knows about me being gay, but he never asked and I never had the guts to tell him.

Today we went to the park. He brought along his dog, Max. Max is the cutest Dobrman I know. Most of the time his is cautious, alert and protecting Finn, but when he is with us, he is enjoying the attention I give him. I always rub him behind his ear, but what he loves the most are belly rubs.

We were just sitting on the ground at the edge of the park. No one in sight. Finn was shirtless, just in his shorts. I was a bit suspicious that he was commando, by the visibility of his bulge. Not like it would mean anything to me. Max was happy as always. Finn was pensive and then kept talking about his new girl crush which I didn't really pay much attention too. Not like he does pay attention to anything I say. He noticed me, not listening and said:"You might as well spend time just with him. You're completely ignoring me today."

"Max here is actually appreciating me and being a great friend. Maybe you two should exchange places." I said jokingly

But out of nowhere. Max dropped down growled and started barking at the two of us. He never did that. I was a bit scared to be honest, but he didn't seem like he would attack us. At the corner of my eye, I also noticed Finn running away from us, dropping down his shorts.

"Where the fuck are you going?! Finn!!! Come back"

He was running around. Completely naked. I looked around, but there were still no people in sight, thankfully. What would they think if they saw him now. What has gotten into him?

Now he got on the ground and grabbed a branch. With his teeth. Has he gone completely mental? Then I realised. That's not possible. I said that as a joke. But when I look at Max, who was now nodding his head, I froze. No way. The really exchanges bodies.

Finn now headed towards the puddle to drink from it. It was funny to see my bestfriend act like a dog, but if I let him keep going, he would hurt his owner's body.

"Bad! Bad dog... bad boy! Stop it!" he stopped, looked at me and ran away from the puddle and headed back to the tree where we sat originally. He must be slowly figuring it out that he is human now. Because he started using his hands as a human would. Swinging from branches and so on. Not like feet.

I ran to him. Grabbed the shorts he took of and tried to get them on him. The best I could do was to get them just above his ankles. He sat down and sticked out his tongue and started hyperventilating. Some manners are harder to let go off, I guess.

"Ok, Max. I know that's you. Do you understand me? Please try to say yes"

"A bark-like noise came out of his throat."

"No, Max. You have to use your voice now. You're a human. Say yes or no. Do you understand?"

After some bad attemps he managed to say:"yy..... yes"

"Good boy. Now. I need you to stop running ok? You are Finn now and Finn wouldn't do that. You have to act like a human now. Ok?"

"No" he answered, but sounded more confident now. He stopped hyperventilating and sat up

"Max. Please don't make this hard for me." as I spoke to Max, I also noticed that Finn has disapeared. Fuck, another problem to solve.

He hesitated and then started speaking:"You want Max. Not Finn. I Finn now"

"No Max. I like both of you. You are his very good dog and he is my very good friend. I love you both and I want you two to be ok."

"I am both now. Good dog and good Finn"

"Max... It's not like that"

"You can rub me like before. On the belly. Please"

Fuck. What the hell do I do? I am horny as fuck to have any experience with Finn, but this feels wrong. So wrong that I was now watching my own body getting closer to Max and rubbing his abs. And by the look in his eyes and now even a smile, I think he likes it. As I was slowly enyoing his well sculpted abs, his dick was getting hard. He definitely noticed, bcause he now tried to get over my leg to hump me.

"No, Max. Stop. Humans do this diferently than dogs. You're human now"

"I saw Finn with a girl many times. I'll do what she did to him." he got over me and unzipped my pants. How the fuck did he get the hang of being a human so soon? He licked his lips and took out my hard dick. I can't believe my wildest dreams are about to become real. He put his lips over the head of my cock and got down. His hand gripping the base of my dick. His other hand got my hand and he squeezed it. Did he just think about that or was this inside Finn's mind? Like some sort of muscle memory. This is amazing. I shot my load really quickly inside of his mouth. I wasn't used to being blowed. Like... ever

He got back on his back and said:"Do me now." I didn't take a second to think about it. I kissed his pecks, my left hand grpping his dick and jerking it. My right carefully protecting his abs form being alone without my touch. I smelled his armpits. He smelled just the way I was used to. I loved his smell. And I could now smell and even lick his hairy armpits. He was welcoming me to do that. Fucking amazing

I started sucking him off. He worked his ass like a pro and kept thrusting into my mouth, his hand in my hair, gripping it. Fucking amazing I tell you. He shot the cum in my mouth and I swallowed it entirely.

I just gave blow job to Finn. I was mesmerized that I looked at Finn and started making ouit with him. He returned the favour and kiss me back. Very passionately.

We were interrupted by the park guard, holding the leash with Max on the other end.

Ok, so we might have a lifelong ban to enter the park, but this day brought us some new experiences. First of all, I got to suck the man of my dreams and now it seems we'll be doing way. Second, Finn probably remembers being a human, but sometimes his animal urges take over. On the way back home he even tried to run after a squirrel. Crazy right?

And third of all, Max really enjoys being human. He really got the hang of it and now is doing an amazing job being Finn. And he is a very romantic boyfriend.

What is weird is his afinity for the Dobrman's. Like today he said he borught one of his friends he knows from the park. He spoke to the dog whole afternoon. But as long as I get to have my new boyfriend, I don't really care

Wait? Do you think they might think about swapping the other dog with someone too? That would be cool, having two great ex-dog friends. Well, depends on who are they gonna choose as the next person.

"Oh, hey Max. What are you...?" and then darkness

#body swap #male body swap #body switch

[lululandd]

wrong;

pairing: könig x f!reader

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: fluff?

note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)

summary: 

of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.

bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..

—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.

no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.

until you slipped up, of course.

you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.

hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.

horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.

the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray. 

“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”

“two months.”

“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”

he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.” 

you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.

“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”

horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”

perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.

“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.

stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”

thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.

“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.

könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.

“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.

“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”

“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance. 

to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”

the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”

your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.

what.

blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?” 

his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”

“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”

nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”

you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.

as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”

plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”

she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”

“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”

stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”

she’s right.

but,

he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.

you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.

“your funeral, bunny number two.”

—

you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.

hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?

staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.

the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.

“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”

she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.

the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.

you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.

“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.

putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”

crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”

as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.

“come in, then.” she offered.

taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.

the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.

stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat. 

könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.

bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.

“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.

first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.

“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.

bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.

“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”

you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing. 

bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.” 

the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”

hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.

he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.

oh no.

looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.

at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.

you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”

“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.

you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”

as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.

a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

[babeeangel]

soulmate give away pt2 with characters like Reo and Chigiri? :)

My pleasure ! Thank you for asking, i hope you like it, lovelyyyyy

Ion think i'd do a part 3 cause i'm running out of ideas so bad aa

soulmate give away (pt 2)

What made the bllk boys realize you might be their soulmate. 

Do you believe in soulmates ? To be fair, sometimes, some signs can be considered as dead giveaways that you and he are meant to be. 

super shorts hc, gender neutral with reo, chigiri, sae, kunigami, bachira and nagi. fluffy ig ? part 1 includes: isagi, kurona, shidou, rin, kaiser and barou.

ꕥ

Reo: Makes you want to be a better person. For an unexplainable reason, just being around him makes you feel complete and makes you want to reach higher horizons. It’s like when you’re him you know your potential can be accomplished. 

Chigiri: Has watched the same underground, unknown, arthouse unfamous movie as you did. When you guys realized you quoted the same quote, you were really, really confused and couldn't believe it. How come you and him both knew about this movie with like 17 streams AND both happen to really like it ? You called it an invisible string. 

Sae: You have his lucky charm he lost when he was a teenager. So basically up until he was 15 he had this clover keychain that was his (secret) lucky charm. Until he lost it, randomly dropping it in the metro. You picked it up and it became YOUR lucky charm. When you met him, he recognized it instantly. Your destinies liked each other enough to bring you guys to meet again. 

Bachira: You feel the same things regardless of how far apart you are. He’ll be yawing in Brazil and so will you be in Madagascar. You sneeze in the shower, so will he on the field. Sad for no reason ? He’s probably currently watching a k-drama. Ain't that a compassionate soul for ya ?

Kunigami: There is electricity whenever you touch. Literally static electric shocks every time you guys brush against each other. If you let go for just one second, the next time you touch you’ll feel a spark again. 

Nagi: You guys get each other. As in you GET each other. Without a word, you know what the other one is thinking and without a word, act consequently. Even when you were classmates, even when you were just friends. It’s like you share the same mind. People started thinking you guys had made a secret code at this point. 

A/N: yayy i don't think i've ever answered an ask this fast !!! It's not that good but i was really surprised it got a bit of love~~ Isagi smut coming sooooon (my frist 'smut' nd it's not even that smutty kkkkk)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #bluelock #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #reo bllk #reo mikage x reader #reo imagine #reo mikage #reo x reader #nagi blue lock #nagi imagines #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #kunigami smut #rensuke kunigami x reader #blue lock kunigami #kunigami x reader #kunigami rensuke #bachira imagines #bachira x reader #blue lock bachira #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #bachira x isagi #blue lock sae itoshi #itoshi sae imagines #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader

[endelineinwonderland]

Let The Light In: Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Words: 2.5K

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn

A/N: One step forward, ten steps back! :)

Even though you’d been stuck in a shoot today you had heard that it had been a beautiful day for February in Connecticut, a time when the skies are usually grey, and the streets are usually blanketed in a heavy layer of snow. The unexpected warmth, you decide, likely explained why the local ice cream parlor was bustling with people, their laughter and chatter spilling out onto the streets.

People were out in droves, couples, families, and groups of friends taking advantage of the unseasonable warmth. You sit in the car next to Paige, the both of you watching the scene unfold with matching expressions of confusion. 

“Now probably isn’t the best time for Paige Bueckers to show up, huh?”

Paige shrugs, a small smile playing at her lips. "I mean, it’ll probably be fine. It’s not like I’m with the whole team or anything. I might get stopped once, but I doubt it." She sounds confident, but you notice the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers tap restlessly on the steering wheel.

You glance nervously forward, watching as a group of girls enter the store, shedding off their coats to reveal that at least 3 of them had t-shirts emblazoned with the 'UConn WBB' logo just as Paige finished speaking. Almost as if they’d been summoned by the sound of her voice, and you let out a dry chuckle and tried to suppress immediate feelings of déjà vu from the conversation you had at the café a few months ago. When everything had truly fallen apart.

"Well, there goes that plan," your eyes flicking between the group and Paige. You silently prayed that none of them would glance over and discover the star player sitting right outside.

With a resigned sigh, the blonde leans back against the driver's seat. Her shoulder brushing against yours in the cramped space, she reaches into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out her wallet, fishing out her credit card and handing it to you, disappointment written all over her face. “We can still get ice cream if you want to run in for us. We might just be stuck eating it in the car.” 

You accepted the card (despite having no intention of using it), taking it from Paige's extended hand with a small nod. "The usual for you?" Paige rolls her eyes in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Duh.”

The moment you return to the car, clutching two plastic cups filled with two generous scoops of ice cream, Paige quickly springs out to open the passenger door for you. Taking her order and the unused credit card from your outstretched hand, settling back into the car with a smile.

Without even thinking about it, she automatically digs her spoon into your cup before taking a bite of her own. As the spoon left her mouth, her brow furrows in confusion. 

"Wait, I think they gave you two strawberry’s by mistake," she said, reaching for your cup. "It's okay, though. I can go back in and ask them to fix it."

Your hand gently grabbed at hers to stop it, taking the ice-cream bowl back. "No, it's fine. I requested that they put a scoop of cherry and a scoop of strawberry in each cup," you explain, starting to mix the two flavors together and taking a mouthful. 

"Oh. Why did you do that?" Paige asked with a slight strain to her voice, brow furrowing further as she fixated on the spoon stuck between your lips. 

Noticing her sudden change in behavior you tried to explain what you thought had been remarkably clever, panicking slightly as you spoke. "I thought it was a good idea," you began, your voice filled with slight confusion. "You know, this way we each have our own, and we don’t have to keep reaching for each other's ice cream all the time and we won’t make a mess of your car. And don’t worry, you can still have my extra if that’s what you’re worried about. Plus," you forced out a nervous chuckle, "there will be even more now since we each have a full-sized scoop."

Her expression dropped suddenly, and she quickly abandoned her barely touched ice cream on the center console. 

You called out her name, your voice laced with concern, and carefully placed your ice cream next to hers before placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Paige, what's wrong? Did I do something?” 

Paige shook her head, hands going to briefly cover her face. "It's okay, you didn't do anything," she muttered, her voice muffled, "I just... fuck, I'm sorry, it’s nothing I’m just being stupid." She dropped her hands from her face as she turned to look at you, her expression briefly meeting yours before turning away to focus on the console. "Which one's mine, again?" she asked, her tone still tense. 

You withdrew the hand that had been resting on her shoulder as you leaned down to examine the two cups on the center console. "Uh, this one I think," you nodded, pushing one of them to towards her. The temperature of the ice cream sent a chill through you, its coolness in sharp contrast to the warmth that had coursed through you when you touched her.

She reaches for it wordlessly, hastily grabbing another bite, refusing to meet your gaze.

You’ve never seen someone eat ice cream angrily you think. 

"Paige?" you asked again, softer this time, your concern growing as you watched her ignore you. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on?"

She let out a shaky breath, her spoon stilling in the cup of ice cream. "It's just... it's been a lot, you know?" she said, finally looking up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

"I mean – I thought I'd lost you for good. And I know now we're trying to fix things, but every little thing makes me worry that it's all going to fall apart again. Like, every time we’ve been near each other I’m so afraid of messing it up and then whenever we’re apart I feel like that’s part of the problem too, but I scare myself to bad and I never reach out or anything and it’s all just so stupid." her voice strained. "It's just... I don’t know. This was supposed to be simple. "

Feeling like your heart is going to give out on you every time you hear her speak is beginning to become all too familiar. 

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay. It’s just gonna take some time clearly,” you say, your attempts to be reassuring as much for you as they are for her. 

She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. "I just... I wanted today to be good. And when you changed the order, it felt like maybe things weren’t okay between us after all.” She takes a deep breath, turning to you. “I know it’s so stupid, but I feel like I have to constantly over analyze everything between us now."

“Oh P, no, that’s not what I meant to do at all.” You murmur, your eyes filing up with tears of your own. Reaching over to grab her bowl from her now shaking hands, you place it on the dashboard, grabbing yours next so you can reach over to her without the obstruction.  Her hands grip your forearm as you wrap yourself around her shoulders, leaning your head back to kiss the side of her head. “This has been hard, and I’ve been so scared to mess up too and I’m sorry that I just did.” you choke out. 

“You didn’t mess up I’m just being dramatic, it’s just I feel like it isn’t supposed to be this hard though” Paige let’s out a sob, “I don’t know why I thought that, but I really thought everything would be back to normal, I just, I don’t get what’s happening with us at all and I don’t get why I don’t get it.” 

The tears that had flooded your eyes are now making their way down your cheeks. “I hurt you, I hurt you in ways that aren’t forgivable, and I won’t be mad at you if it takes you a while to get there, or if you never do.” 

This was supposed to be light, this was supposed to be easy, a step in the right direction, but all you can feel is yourself being dragged down, deeper and deeper when you thought you were already on the ground.

She vehemently shakes her head, “no, no, just stop. Stop being so shitty to yourself, I’ve already forgiven you.” Her fingers tighten around your arms to the point that it’s painful but you stay still, “I'm the one who's been awful. I’ve been avoiding you like the damn plague, you’ve been trying so hard and I didn’t mean to.  I’ve been making your life so much harder for so long and I didn’t realize until I kicked you out of my room that night, I still don’t know why I did that but I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She repeats the apology, praying you understand it as she becomes almost completely incoherent, the words and sobs falling out of her mouth simultaneously. 

You pull her closer, holding her as tightly as you can, sitting awkwardly on your side in the passenger seat. “We’re gonna figure this out,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “This is on both of us, and we are both going to fix it, alright love?”

Paige nodded against your shoulder, her sobs slowly subsiding. “I want that,” she whispered back. “I really want that.” 

The two of you stay intertwined, listening to the quiet hum of the radio, both too afraid to speak up and say something else potentially ruinous when you’ve just started making progress again. Eventually, however, you have to move. The ice cream has melted, leaving a sticky mess all over Paige’s dashboard and the lights shut off in the ice cream parlor, the employee giving the two of you a strange glance as she locks up. 

You must be feeling unusually brave, or maybe just desperate to keep her near you, probably the latter you decide as the words seem to tumble out of your mouth before you can think twice. “Do you want to come back to mine?” You can't help but thank god when she nods.  

The silence continues as you drive back to your place. The streetlights flash by, casting fleeting shadows inside the car, the light occasionally falling on your hand, intertwined tightly with Paige’s. You both let yourself cling to the other until she has to park the car, reluctantly letting you go.

"Wanna head in?" you say, breaking the silence once the cars settled to a stop. She nods, reaching for the handle the second you say it, like she’d been waiting for your permission.

The two of you step out of the car, and the crisp night air hits your skin. You walk side by side to the front door, and for a moment, everything feels like it used to—easy, natural. Once inside, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings. "Make yourself at home," you say, gesturing towards the living room.

She sits, looking around your place as if seeing it for the first time. "It's been a while since I've been here," she says softly. "Yeah," you agree, the words are left hanging in the air as she fails to come up with a response that wouldn’t bring up any of the laundry list of things you’re both still avoiding. Paige's fingers fidget with the pillow she had moved to rest on her lap, her eyes focused on the floor.

"How about we watch a movie?" you suggest, unsure what to do in this uncharted territory.

She gives you a slight nod, reaching for the remote, opening Netflix and pressing play on some action movie that could not interest you less but for her, you’ll tolerate it. 

The movie flickers on the screen, but your attention is fixed on Paige. Her head rests gently on your shoulder, her breathing slow and steady as she drifts into sleep. The soft glow from the TV casts a gentle light across her face, highlighting her delicate features. You marvel at the way her eyelashes create shadows on her cheeks, the slight part of her lips as she breathes. She looks so peaceful, and you’re absolutely positive that no one could ever be more beautiful than she is in this moment, the thought both captivates and torments you.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump forming in your throat. ‘Why does she think I deserve her?’ The question echoes in your mind, each repetition tightening the knot in your stomach. She’s perfect, and here she is, trusting you enough to fall asleep in your arms. But the gentle sound of her breathing is drowned out by the echos of your cameras shutter and her cries pounding in your ears, each one a piercing through you, a guilt filled arrow. You shift slightly, trying to ease the discomfort, but it only intensifies.

You glance at the TV, trying to distract yourself, but the images blur together, meaningless against the backdrop of your spiraling thoughts. Your hand moves to stroke her hair, a gentle, almost involuntary motion. Her hair is soft, slipping through your fingers like silk. You want to focus on that sensation, to ground yourself, but the flood of insecurities keeps rising. ‘What if I hurt her again? What if I can’t be the person she needs?’ Each question is a weight pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

When the credits finally roll, Paige stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She looks up at you with a sleepy, tender smile. "I'm too tired to drive home. Can I stay here tonight?" Her voice is a soft whisper.

"Of course," you say, but the words feel thick, stuck in your throat. A part of you longs to hold her close, to find comfort in her presence. But another part of you recoils, terrified of the thoughts that come with her nearness. 

‘I can’t do this.’

She shifts again, laying her head on your chest and curling up against you. Her warmth practically seeps into you, a soothing balm against the cold dread that has filled you to the brim. "I love you," she mutters, half-asleep, and her words are like a knife twisting in your heart. 

‘She shouldn't love me.'

You lie there, your heart pounding in your chest. The panic is a living thing, clawing at your insides, making it impossible to relax. You replay every mistake, every hurtful word, each one a confirmation of your unworthiness. She’s so peaceful, so trusting, and it only heightens your anxiety. 

You’ve changed a lot over the course of the past year, hell, the past months. Maybe, just maybe, the reason it’s been so hard to go back to how you were is because now you’re too different, you’re not the same as you were, it’s not the same as it was. 

‘Maybe she’s in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist anymore.’

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fanfiction #uconn huskies #paige bueckers angst #fanfic #angst #wbb

[astrxq]

CHAPTER 1 → The Art of First Impressions

words: 3.4k

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Benedict felt his sister’s pull on his arm once, twice, three times before he snapped out of his reverie. Eloise scoffed, her arm linked with his, as she listened to their mother’s pleas for her to please, please, please consider dancing tonight.

"Honestly, Mother, I have no interest in prancing around like a trained pony," Eloise retorted, rolling her eyes.

Their mother sighed, exasperation clear on her face. "It's just one dance, Eloise. It wouldn't hurt to socialize a bit more."

Benedict chuckled softly, earning a glare from his sister. "You know she's not going to give up, Eloise. Might as well dance once and get it over with."

Eloise grumbled under her breath but eventually relented, albeit reluctantly. She managed to escape her mother, finding Penelope on the other side of the room, who was also standing aside, avoiding dances. Turning back, Benedict found himself face-to-face with his mother again, she smiled.

"And you, Benedict," Violet began, raising an eyebrow. "Have you considered dancing tonight? There are plenty of eligible young ladies here."

Benedict sighed inwardly, "Mother, I think I'd rather enjoy the evening in other ways. There's no shortage of good company even off the dance floor."

Violet's smile wavered slightly, but she nodded in understanding. "It's important to make an effort sometimes."

"I know, Mother," he replied, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I'll make an effort. Just not tonight."

With that, he made his way across the room, scanning the crowd for his brothers. He found his brother Colin near the refreshments, engaged in animated conversation. Benedict joined them, picking up a glass of brandy from the table.

"Escaping Mother’s matchmaking efforts, I see," Colin said with a knowing smirk.

Benedict raised his glass in a mock toast. "To avoiding dances and hungry mamas."

Colin chuckled, clinking his glass against Benedict's. "Here, here. Though I think she's got her eyes set on Eloise tonight. Poor thing."

Benedict glanced over to see Eloise and Penelope deep in conversation, both clearly intent on remaining wallflowers for the evening. 

"She'll manage," he glanced at their mother, now deep in conversation with one too many mama’s asking for her sons to dance with their daughters. "You know Mother, once she sets her mind on something, there's no stopping her."

Colin nodded in agreement, then leaned in closer to Benedict, lowering his voice before taking a sip of his drink. "Speaking of setting minds on things, I think I might ask Penelope for a dance."

Benedict raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk appearing on his lips. "Oh? And what's the occasion?"

Colin shrugged nonchalantly. "We're friends, aren't we? It's only proper to dance with a friend."

"By all means, go ahead," Benedict said, gesturing towards Penelope, who was engrossed in conversation with Eloise. "I'll take care of Eloise for you."

With that, both brothers stalked their way to where the two girls stood. Eloise, upon seeing her brothers look so determined, made a face, Penelope grinned at the sight of Colin approaching. 

“Good evening, ladies.” Benedict said, immediately linking his arm with his sister’s and pulling her to walk with him. 

Eloise made a move to let go of her brother and return to her friend, but Benedict pulled her forward. As Benedict led her away from the crowd, he could feel her resistance soften. He knew his sister well enough to understand that while she might grumble at being dragged away from her conversations, she often secretly appreciated the break from social gatherings.

"We're not escaping to the stables, are we?" Eloise quipped, a hint of amusement in her voice as Benedict guided her towards the quieter corridors of the house.

Benedict chuckled. "Not this time, though I must admit, the stables do hold a certain appeal."

As they entered the grand gallery of the house, Benedict felt a sense of calm wash over him. The opulent space was adorned with exquisite paintings, illuminated by the soft glow of strategically placed lamps. The air was filled with the faint scent of old books and polished wood. He stayed silent and walked to stand in front of the biggest painting, a landscape of the lake near their house – the water shimmered with delicate strokes of blue and green, wisps of mist floated above the surface of the lake, adding an ethereal quality to the scene. In the distance, a lady in a white dress, feeding the ducks. ‘Byron Montclair’ signed at the bottom.

Eloise rolled her eyes at Benedict's lingering gaze. "Are you going to stare at the walls all night, or are you actually going to tell me why you dragged me away from the party?"

Benedict grinned, enjoying his sister's feisty demeanor. "I thought you might appreciate a moment away from the chaos.”

She hummed, “Not because Colin wanted to dance with my friend?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Benedict watched as Eloise settled herself on a wooden bench near the walls, her posture betraying her boredom despite her attempts to appear nonchalant. Her shoulders slumped forward, legs crossed one over the other and hands falling to her lap, she played with her bracelet while Benedict slowly paced around the room, taking his sweet time to stare at each painting.

As he gazed at the various paintings adorning the walls, his eyes landed on one that seemed familiar yet out of place. It was his own work, a sunset he had painted months before and gifted to his mother, even though he was not too proud of the outcome. He approached it, lost in his contemplation, Benedict didn't notice the soft footsteps approaching from behind until a voice broke the silence.

"Do you like it?”

Benedict turned to your voice, a woman, around his age, standing next to him, eyes glued to his painting. He looked back to where his sister sat, though she was still distracted by her own boredom.

“I suppose…” he answered, now staring at you. You didn’t look at him. 

“Interesting choice of colors," you remarked, your voice soft yet carrying an air of authority. "Although I must say, the technique could use some refinement."

Benedict arched an eyebrow at the unexpected critique, feeling a mixture of surprise and curiosity at your boldness. He hadn't anticipated such an assessment of his work, especially from someone he hadn't met before.

He glanced at the painting again, then back at you, noting your composed demeanor and the confidence in your voice. 

"I see," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "And what, if I may ask, would you suggest to refine it?"

You turned her gaze towards him, finally acknowledging his presence with a subtle smile playing at the corners of your lips. 

"Well, for starters, the brushstrokes could be more fluid," you began, "And perhaps a greater attention to light and shadow would enhance the overall depth of the piece."

He stared at you, then back at the painting. He squinted as he focused on every detail you’d pointed out. You were right, it wasn’t a good painting, not his best at least. You made no move to go look at another painting, instead choosing to stand next to Benedict as he analyzed his own work.

“It’s almost as if the painter has no motivation.” 

Benedict widened his eyes, quickly turning to look at you. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

You shrugged, your gaze still fixed on the painting. "Just an observation," you replied cryptically. “If the artist is not motivated to paint, if it’s a chore to them, paintings turn out boring. Just like this one, might I add.”

Benedict couldn't help but feel a surge of defensiveness at your blunt assessment of his painting. After all, it had been a heartfelt gift to his mother, even if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the outcome himself.

"I wouldn't say it was a chore," he retorted, his tone tinged with a hint of indignation. "But perhaps you're right. It lacks a certain... spark."

You turned to him, a thoughtful expression on your face. "Exactly. Without that spark, a painting loses its soul."

Benedict couldn't help but feel a prickling sense of irritation at your bold critique of his painting. After all, who were you to question his artistic motivations and the soul of his work?

"And what, may I ask, qualifies you to critique this painting?" Benedict's voice held a subtle edge, his tone laced with a hint of skepticism.

“I am merely just making observations,” you heard Eloise chuckle from the other side of the room, quickly covering her mouth when both you and Benedict turned to look at her. “Women aren’t allowed in art school, much to your privilege, but I know when a painting is a masterpiece and when it falls short." 

Benedict's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your response. He hadn't expected such a bold and insightful remark from someone he had just met. It intrigued him, and he found himself wanting to delve deeper into this conversation.

"I see," he said, his tone softening as he regarded you with newfound interest.

Before he could ask you more questions, though, a chaperone appeared at the door, calling hands behind her back, and a serious look on her face. “Miss Montclair, the carriage you called has arrived.”

Without another word, you turned to look at Benedict, “If you need insight in how to better your… work, if you may call it that, I'd be happy to offer my expertise." 

With that, you offered Benedict a small nod before gracefully exiting the room, leaving him standing there, slightly taken aback by your departure. He watched you leave, feeling a curious mixture of intrigue and admiration for your boldness and insight.

Eloise approached Benedict, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Well, that was unexpected," she commented, gesturing towards the door through which you had just left.

He couldn't shake the feeling of fascination that had gripped him during your brief interaction. There was something about your confidence, your insight, that intrigued him.

Benedict couldn't help but smirk at Eloise's comment, her playful demeanor adding to the intrigue of the moment. "Indeed, quite unexpected," he replied, his mind still lingering on the exchange with you.

Eloise nudged him lightly with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I must admit, she certainly knows how to make an entrance and an exit."

Benedict chuckled, nodding in agreement. "That she does."

"I must admit, I haven't seen you at a loss for words like that in quite some time, brother." 

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head.Eloise leaned in conspiratorially, a playful glint in her eye. "Well, aside from her keen eye for art, I must say she's rather... captivating, wouldn't you agree?" she teased.

Benedict raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, and here I thought you were immune to such charms, dear sister."

Eloise laughed, nudging him playfully with her elbow. "Please, Benedict. Even I can appreciate beauty when I see it."

Benedict grinned, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. He couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as he found himself once again standing in front of his favorite painting, the lake, lost in its serene beauty. As he admired the brushstrokes and the way the artist had captured the essence of the landscape, he felt a gentle nudge from Eloise, who was studying the painting with a thoughtful expression.

"Isn't it interesting?" she remarked, her voice barely above a whisper. "The signature at the bottom of the painting, it's the same last name as the woman who critiqued your work earlier."

Benedict's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he followed Eloise's gaze to the elegant cursive letters that spelled out 'Byron Montclair' at the bottom corner of the painting. The realization dawned on him slowly, a flicker of curiosity igniting within him.

"You don't suppose..." he began, his voice trailing off as he turned to look at Eloise, his mind racing with possibilities.

Eloise shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. "Who knows? But wouldn't it be quite the coincidence if it were true?"

He simply glanced at the name once again, before silently following behind his sister. As Benedict and Eloise walked back to the main hall, the echo of your words and the coincidence of the painting's signature played on Benedict's mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this brief encounter than met the eye.

The sound of laughter and music grew louder as they approached the party. Eloise seemed content with their little diversion, her earlier irritation replaced with a more relaxed demeanor. She glanced at Benedict, noting his thoughtful expression.

"You're not going to stand there brooding all night, are you?" she teased, nudging him gently.

Benedict offered her a half-smile, shaking off his musings. "Of course not.”

“Even though I enjoyed seeing a woman speak her mind so freely, especially to you, brother, I must admit it was a tad rude interaction.”

Benedict chuckled softly, acknowledging Eloise's observation. "Yes, it was rather... direct, wasn't it?" Eloise smirked, her eyes dancing with amusement. 

"Direct is one way to put it."

Benedict couldn’t help but smile, cheeks tinting a slight shade of pink, his sister dramatically gasped, pointing a finger at him. He grabbed the finger and shook it, telling her to put it down, “You liked it? You freak!”

Benedict's cheeks tinted slightly pink, but he couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at his lips. "Perhaps I did," he admitted, his tone laced with amusement.

Eloise arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. "Someone's got a soft spot for a bit of sass and intellect." she snorted, her smile quickly fading away as a suitor approached, hand in front of him and ready to ask for a dance.

Benedict's smile widened as he turned to face the approaching suitor, his demeanor shifting smoothly from amusement to polite courtesy. 

"Ah, I believe you have your dance partner for the evening, Eloise," he said, gesturing towards the eager gentleman. 

She glared, and reached to hold onto his arm tightly to stop him from leaving, Eloise's eyes widened in horror, but she quickly composed herself, offering the suitor a polite smile. “Maybe later?”

Benedict elbowed her. Their mother was approaching. 

“Or, now! Yeah,”

Benedict chuckled under his breath, admiring Eloise's quick recovery. As their mother drew near, he straightened his posture and greeted her with a warm smile. Violet beamed at the sight of her children, her eyes twinkling with maternal pride. 

"Ah, there you are, my darlings. Enjoying the party?"

Benedict offered his mother a warm smile, his gaze flickering to Eloise’s clumsy dancing before returning to Violet. 

“I cannot wait to go home, mother.” he teased, linking arms with her as she shook her head with a cheeky smile. Once he noticed one of the mama’s from before, approaching him and his mother, he scurried away while Violet kindly greeted them. Benedict made his way towards the refreshment table, pouring himself another glass of brandy. The rich amber liquid swirled in the glass as he lifted it to his lips, savoring the warmth it brought. 

"Mind if I join you?" Anthony, his eldest brother, stood beside him, a smile playing on his lips.

"Not at all," Benedict replied, gesturing to the empty space beside him. "I could use the company."

Anthony poured himself a drink and took a sip, his gaze sweeping across the ballroom. 

"So, what do you make of all this matchmaking business?" Anthony asked, his tone light yet curious. Benedict shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. 

"Same as always, I suppose. Mother means well, but sometimes her enthusiasm can be... overwhelming." 

Anthony chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Indeed. But you have to admit, it does make for some entertaining evenings."

He nodded in silence, drawing another drink, “Wherever did you and Eloise disappear to? I did not see you both around the ball.”

Benedict took a thoughtful sip of his brandy, pondering Anthony's question. "Oh, just needed a moment away from the chaos," he replied casually, choosing not to delve into the specifics of their little excursion. "You know how it gets sometimes."

Anthony raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, yes. Dodging matchmaking attempts, I assume?"

Benedict chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Something like that."

As the evening wore on, the chatter and laughter in the ballroom reached a crescendo, signaling the height of the festivities. Benedict, having slipped away from the main hall, found himself once again in the grand gallery, the serene ambiance a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere he had just left behind.

With practiced ease, he approached his painting, studying it with a critical eye. The soft glow of the lamps illuminated the brushstrokes, casting shadows that danced across the canvas. Benedict couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction with his work, spurred on by the candid critique he had received earlier.

As he reached out to carefully lift the painting from its place on the wall, a voice broke the silence, causing him to freeze in his tracks.

"What are you doing?" Anthony asked.

Benedict turned to his brother, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "Just... admiring my handiwork," he replied, his tone light yet tinged with uncertainty. 

Anthony arched an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to the painting in Benedict's hands. "Ah, I see. And what do you plan to do with it? Wasn’t it a gift to mother?"

Benedict hesitated, unsure of how to articulate his thoughts. "It was, yes," he conceded, clearing his throat. He put the canvas under his arm to carry it with more ease, and without another word of explanation, he slipped away from the room. 

He retreated to the solitude of his art room, the familiar scent of oil paints and turpentine enveloping him like a comforting embrace. With practiced hands, he carefully propped up the painting on an easel, the canvas stretched taut and waiting.

Yet, as Benedict picked up his brush and dipped it into a pool of vibrant colors, he couldn't shake the feeling of dissatisfaction that gnawed at him. Each stroke felt clumsy, each hue seemed wrong, as if the colors refused to blend in harmony. His mind drifted back to the encounter with you, your candid critique echoing in his thoughts.

"Without that spark, a painting loses its soul," your words echoed in his mind, resonating with a truth he couldn't ignore. Benedict found himself scrutinizing every detail of his painting, searching for that elusive spark, that intangible quality that would breathe life into his work.

But no matter how hard he tried, Benedict couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that his painting lacked the depth and vibrancy he so desperately sought. Frustration mounted with each brushstroke, each attempt to capture the essence of the landscape that had once inspired him.

As he stood back to assess his work, Benedict couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat wash over him. The painting before him seemed lifeless, devoid of the vitality that had once captivated him. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his tousled hair as he struggled to come to terms with his artistic shortcomings.

In that moment of vulnerability, Benedict found himself thinking of you, of your keen eye and unapologetic honesty. 

With a heavy heart and a mind clouded by frustration, Benedict reluctantly admitted defeat. Setting aside his brushes and palette, he extinguished the flickering candlelight in his art room, the darkness enveloping him like a shroud as he made his way to his chambers. 

Despite the late hour, sleep eluded him, his thoughts consumed by the encounter with you and the weight of your words. He tossed and turned restlessly, the image of your gorgeous face and the echo of your soft voice haunting him in the silence of the night.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict Bridgerton x you #benedict Bridgerton fluff #benedict Bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton #bridgerton season

[lilacstro]

Astro Observations pt 2

1.If you have sun conjunct ascendant//sun in 10th house, people might really see who you really are or your real personality maybe visible to people you choose to interact with.

2. People who's sun and mercury match, they more than most of the time, say what they really mean

3. People who have Sag sun/stellium usually have a strong liking for some kind of mainstream media, like kpop? football? bollywood?

4. The sign of your fifth house can influence how you like spending your leisure time. Example:

Capricorn 5th house might like cleaning as a form of relaxing or spending their free time

Leo 5th house might want entertainment or hanging out with a group of friends, social circles

Gemini 5th house might like scrolling the internet or talking about their favourite shows and dramas

Pisces 5th house might like day dreaming or doodling or creative working

Libra 5th house might put make up on just because, or doing a whole self care routine

Taurus 5th house might just lay in bed and sleep? lol maybe cook something or play some instrument if they please.

5. Jupiter is said to expand. People who may have sun conjunct Jupiter may have huge sense of self or awareness of identity, which is really good in a world where people try to tell you who you are. However, this needs to be checked so it does not turn into a huge ego

6. Sagittarius women could really like dancing

7. 8th house stellium could deal with sleep paralysis or insomnia or some kind of mental health related problem at some point in their life for sure

8. 12th house stelliums could really like day dreaming a lot

9. Most Libra people I have met are usually already well liked regardless of anything. and the ones that aren't, really care about being liked by people.

10. Speaking of this, most libra placements, esp suns, may really be gossiped about or do gossips.

11. Sagittarius placements (sun and rising esp) always have something going on with their teeth. Its either crooked, it may have had an injury and even if its perfect, they might be a little insecure about it at least for a brief period in their life

12. Neptune in 7th house could mean the native has kind of like imaginary ideals about their partner. It could also be that they "like the idea of someone more than the person" or straight up like imaginary characters as ideals

13. Sag mercury women usually are very vocal. May advocate for things like unequal rights, feminism, maybe the first one to speak. tbh sag mercuries overall are the types to take part in global challenges and really take time out to think about it seriously.

14. Sun in 8th house is a mysterious placement. Sun in 8th house won't reveal themselves to you. To be fairly honest, growing up their personality goes through a lot of transformation before they finally get to even know themselves and who they are. They could also be very introspective if not self aware

15. while Moon in 8th house natives are usually said that they won't reveal their true emotions, I'd say that's subjective since they are actually "aware" of their feelings on a deep level. This depends on the sign and degree of the moon imo. However, they may instead absolutely illusion you into thinking "you know everything about them" lol. Also, they could eventually get very emotionally intelligent in their lives with time. They may also never fully reveal their past to someone.

16. Moon in 8th house can have two moods. I know this will happen. See this happened. OR I know EXACTLY why this did not happen lol. Very intuitive.

17. Moon in Gemini degrees can indicate being able to verbalize and intellectualize emotions better than most people. While Moon in Aquarius or Capricorn may suggest otherwise.

18. Idk how but most Aquarius people I have seen have either of these two things. Being extremely different than most people (in a good or bad way) in some way or the other, a different thinking than most. OR, being really really good with Internet related stuff, like maybe freelance? Digital Media? Social Media?

19. Venus/Sun/Moon in virgos will get you the small thing you mentioned in a random seemingly unimportant conversation for your birthday gift.

20. A placement that makes me think of "attractive personality" is Venus in harmonious aspects with mercury.

21. Mars in 5th house/1st house are said to be automatically physically active or athletic. While this maybe true, mars or any other planet at a weak degree or Mars in Earth signs may not manifest that way, even though it may seem otherwise.

22. I think mercury in 11th house is an OG placement for over thinkers or the people who are thinking how would it feel to get married while riding the car/train and looking outside, or being constantly in their head the second they woke up.

23. " I am so stupid in love"- Pisces, Cancer placements.

24. Neptune in 3rd/11th house placements could have a social media or chronically online addiction.

25. Sun in 1st house in SR can indicate getting a sense of identity and purpose and moreover finding yourself again

26. Uranus in 12th house in SR can indicate a change/transformation in old belief systems and thoughts

Well, I am thinking of making proper dedicated posts now instead of random notes like that. What suggestions do you have? I would loveee to know.

#astrology #astro notes #astro thoughts #astro #astro tumblr #astro community #astrology placements #astro observations #astro placements #astro posts #astrology community #astrology notes #astroloji #cancer moon #pisces #zodiacsigns #zodiac #horoscope #virgo #virgo sun #moon in 8th house #sagittarius #lilacstro observations #lilacstro #lilacstronotes

[pascaloverx]

DANDELIONS

Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.

Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.

ONE

"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.

"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.

"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.

"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.

"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.

"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.

"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.

"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.

"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.

"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.

"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.

"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.

"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.

"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.

"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.

"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.

"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.

"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.

"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.

"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.

"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.

"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.

"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.

"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.

"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.

You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.

"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.

"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.

"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.

"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.

"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?

"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.

#bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton x fem reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #benedict x you #colin bridgerton #violet bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #lady danbury #penelope featherington #lady whistledown #bridgerton x reader #spotify #Spotify

[meanbossart]

What does DU drow think of Karlach? Like does he think she's annoying? An ally? A friend? I'm genuinely curious 🙏

He... Doesn't get Karlach LOL

He doesn't get wy she's so upbeat and yet so resigned to her fate. He doesn't get how she's so forgiving of Wyll and so set on doing Good when life should have taught her that that is not always feasible. He doesn't understand why she talks to him like a friend when, as far as he's concerned, they have little in common besides a worm and thigh-width.

He goes back and forth between reading her as naive, to aloof, to insightful, to weak, to strong, and so on and so on. He just can't pin her. They pretty much kept at arms-length throughout the campaign save towards the end when she set out to kill Gortash - REVENGE is a concept he understands.

Despite their somewhat stilted relationship he does grow to like her, somewhat. They might have not been friends but he thought Karlach as being too determined to live to die. He was set on letting her enjoy Gortash's death and then fix her engine somehow to the end, which was a type of conflict of it's own between them. He respected her wishes to just perish, but was left with bitter feeling that flips from "She didn't try hard enough" to "I failed to fix her", which puts him face to face with the very scary fact that he can't always bend the world to his will, as he often likes to believe lol.

#ask #du drow lore #Karlach

[imsosleepyofyourbull]

I firmly believe that Kabru is autistic but masks so hard that he’s convinced himself and (almost) everyone around him that he’s neurotypical.

That man’s special interest is people and how they work, but he just thinks it’s him Being So Good At Socializing — like he doesn’t spend 95% of his time people watching and adjusting his personality in response to the traits he witnesses and obsessing over the intricacies of human interaction while mapping an ever growing relationship chart in his head. For fun. He even admits it in the manga!

Like, look at him!!!

It’s such a shame that — because he’s the narrative foil to Laios and his interest is generally considered more “socially acceptable” in both their world and our own — more people don’t realize this about him. He’s constantly misinterpreted as a horribly manipulative person who only acts the way he does to use the people around him, when that’s explicitly shown to not be the case at all. Kabru is naturally empathetic and is almost always thinking about other people, regardless of whether or not they’re right there with him or a thousand miles away.

I mean, his most defining motivation is his desire to do everything he can to avoid another tragedy like the one at Utaya. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t have a goal like that, and they most certainly wouldn’t go about it the way he does. He’s constantly working to help people who can help everyone else and tries so hard to make sure that anyone who seems like a threat is actually someone he needs to worry about before doing anything about it. His supposed aversion to Laios is only because of the ridiculous trolley problem he’s set up in his own head.

Outside of that, he (rather justifiably) hates monsters but is desperate to understand Laios’ love for them and his apparently most selfish goal in getting close to the guy was literally just to become friends with him.

When he’s interacting with the canaries and they imply that they’re going to take him and all of his friends to the West, his first thought is of Rin and how much she’d hate to be stuck in the place that gave her so many bad memories.

He helps Kuro learn Common when Mickbell is asleep and firmly looks forward to the day that the half-foot and Kuro can communicate properly so that their relationship can get properly started without any miscommunication.

And he understands Mithrun with only a handful of weeks AT BEST interacting with him, getting enraged when the elf seems to give up and immediately trying to help him find a new motivation for life.

I’m excited just thinking about the day that Kabru starts unmasking more and more around his friends — both new and old — because if being with my current friend group has taught me anything, it’s that hanging out with anyone so unabashedly themselves is bound to make you more comfortable with yourself too. It’s part of the reason why I like Labru so much! There’s something nice about imagining them hanging out in the throne room or laying in the grass outside and talking for hours on end about their special interests. They might not strictly understand what the other finds so fascinating about monsters or people, but they can grasp that shared feeling of love.

They probably influence each other in really good ways too, with Kabru helping Laios figure out what people are thinking even when it doesn’t make sense or Laios helping Kabru understand that not everyone and everything needs to be analyzed a thousand times over. They both get to learn that there are people like them and people who will love them without them ever having to change a thing about themselves. They deserve to know that they’re fine the way they are.

#I have so many more thoughts about these two #like how Laios is actually the one who couldn’t really care about people outside of his immediate friends and family #that his love is the one that would burn down the world if it meant the people he cared about got to be as safe and happy as they should be #always as themselves #never as the corrupted versions of them in their nightmares or by the winged lions distortions #which is how Kabru would learn to be more selfish and needy #encouraged to act on his own desires and help other people at the same time #these two have ruined me #especially Kabru #because I’m predictable and my other two favorite characters are Tachihara Michizou and Nara Shikamaru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi kabru #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi laios #laios touden #dungeon meshi rin #rinsha fana #dungeon meshi mickbell #mickbell #dungeon meshi kuro #kuro #dungeon meshi mithrun #mithrun #labru

[kizzer55555]

I had a crack idea and I really like your content I was wondering if you would like to hear it

Damien had an Over The Moon moment with Danny

Over The Moon Is about a little girl while building a rocket to the moon to meet a goddess so she can get advice about accepting the death of her mother

As a child Damien remembers one of his caretakers telling him the story of the god Phantom how something happened to him and how he floated up and away to space and became their God but could never see his family or friends ever again

Story that Damian got told was incredibly popular one in the infinite realms about King Phantom after he had to shut down the portals to the infinite rounds from the human world to keep the ghost safe and himself

And the ghost saw this heavily liminal child is like oh let me tell him the story of the space god Phantom

This was when Damien was still dueling Talia to find out who his birth father is and like a few days before his birthday Damien actually did find a portal that led to the infinite Realms

He ended up meeting ghosts like the Box Ghost or Johnny 13 and Kitty and going on a big adventure to the infinite rounds to meet High King Phantom who encouraged him to venture out there and find out about what it's connected to him

And turn there was a portrait made of Damien and Danny of Danny being in Royal where in Damien sitting on his lap with the brightest smile on his face

Damien ends up going back home and never telling anyone else in the League of assassins or in bat family about his adventure in the infinite Realms and king Phantom

Damien ends up getting into it like a really bad argument with Bruce and feeling unwanted so decided to go back you get advice from Phantom it ended up taking Jon with him

The bat family have to realizing that Damien's gone missing are spending most of their time trying to find Damien when Constantine calls them and shows them a portrait of Damien and the ghost King

Which leads the bat family thinking that Damian got kidnapped by the ghost King probably because of the Lazarus pits while Damian and Jonathan are out there living their Disney adventure

So the bat family and Constantine summon the Ghost came to the man Damien back while Damien trying to convince Danny at the world is changing that he might be able to go back home and see the people he loves

Anyway I just kept having the idea of Damian singing my rocket to the moon but changing out the lyrics

Anyway I hope you like my dumb idea and you might watch Over The Moon it's really good movie

This is such a cool idea! Unfortunately I don’t know much about over the moon but here’s my little spin on this idea.

The Justice league do the summoning but unfortunatly, they are still under the impression that the ghost king is Pariah Dark. So there is a bit of interference. So the summoning latches onto the last person to touch Pariah Dark (AKA his coffin) and while Danny did defeat the previous king in single combat, he wasn’t the one to turn the key. No, the last person to touch Pariah Dark was one Vlad Plasmius. So when the JL starts the summoning, they get a very confused Plasmius and before he can comprehend what’s happening a bunch of angry and colorful adults just start demanding that he return Damian.

Vlad has no idea who these people are. He has no idea who this Damian kid is. And no matter what he says, none of these strange costumed adults believe him! He’s not even the ghost king!

JL: lies. Lies and slander.

And THEN, ooooh, and then he wasn’t the only one summoned. For Maddie the cat was right there and unfortunately got caught in the summoning because it was feeding time. And because she wasn’t a ghost, naturally she was able to wander outside the circle. The JL, having multiple interactions with Kalrion assume this is the ghost king’s familiar and snatch up the fluffy white cat.

Vlad can only stare in horror.

The. Pure. AUDACITY.

You know what? FINE! Yes! It is I! The ghost king! I have your PrEcIOse little boy! You want him back?! THEN GIVE ME BACK MY CAT!

So here Damian and Jon are, having the time of their lives, chilling in a strangely warm ice castle with Danny and telling him their problems, giving Cujo scratches and meanwhile, Vlad is screaming bloody murder from his summoning circle.

JL: give us back our child!

Vlad: Give me back my princess before I ERaSe YouR exIStaNce and I’ll think about it [insert intelligible ghost swear]

Constantine: *dramatic gasp* How DARE you?!

#Dpxdc #dcxdp #Kizzer55555 ideas #Summonings gone wrong. #Vlad Plasmius commit to the bit. #You want him to be evil? He will SHOW you evil! #Danny is a wise mentor figure to Damian. He taught the boy how to fight. #Chaos in the watch tower. #Vlad summons the box ghost out of spite. #You know what? I think he still has Skulker on speed dial too.