#how to attract women effortlessly

[hadesoftheladies]

women's sports is one of the loudest and most successful anti-patriarchy campaigns in human history. what women's sports did and does is prove, over and over again, the excellence, the raw power and strength of the human woman. it completely disrupts ideas on gender.

you have big, powerful women in rugby. fast, endurable women runners. impeccably strong gymnasts. women with strong, large bodies that take up space. that are HEALTHY. they are not RESTRICTED or ladylike. they are free of the stillness/deadness that femininity demands. no corsets. no (aesthetic) thinness. no hourglass bodies for gawking. women's sports screams to society "we are fully human, not objects, not small men. we are not domestic dolls. we are hunters and foragers. fighters."

why do you think men are so vitriolic about it? why don't they want women in football? why don't they want it televized? why do they keep harassing female basketball players? why do they insist on dressing women in sexualized uniforms? why do they now make it taboo to exculde men from women's sports?

i firmly believe it's because women's sports tears patriarchal gender ideology apart so effortlessly. it completely spits in the face of patriarchal political propaganda and shows how null it is. it forces all of us to view women as full, as the beginning of human excellence, as central to human history. not as decorative sexual objects, no matter how men want us to be.

that's why there's so much aggression and derision when it comes to women's sports from men. because women's sports destroys the idea of femininity and depicts women as non-derivative. women must be monsters and cannot afford to play into the childlikeness that femininity demands. the arena of sports forces us to focus on women's physical performance rather than appearance. their strength rather than how attractive they are. their skill and strategy. their humanity. it is a form of entertainment where all female roles are agentive and active rather than passive.

women's sports events are also hotbeds for female and lgb solidarity like you have no idea!

y'all need to start watching women's sports. not only because it is exciting, but it deprograms the patriarchal bullshit out of you so fast. you realize how much is possible. how much we can all achieve right now.

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[earlysunshines]

just pretend(?)

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.

warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…

a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)

"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”

"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.

"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”

"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.

she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”

“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“

“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”

you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.

your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”

“what?”

“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“

“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”

���that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”

“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”

“haerin?”

“she wouldn’t.”

“yunjin?”

“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”

“sakura?”

“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”

“the hell?”

“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”

“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”

danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.

she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all. 

to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread. 

yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.

the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university. 

it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–

“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”

hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”

“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further. 

“i don’t, just fake date her.”

“she wouldn’t agree.”

“sure she would, let me call her!”

you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone. 

before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.

“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”

“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”

“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni. 

“y/n was wondering if you could date her.” 

eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.” 

“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”

hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics. 

“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”

“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”

“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”

“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”

“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved. 

“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”

you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.

“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”

“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”

“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.” 

“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.

hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.

–

it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.

you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.

“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.” 

you almost choke. “what?”

“did you forget we’re dating now?”

“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.

“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”

laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”

you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.

(yet.)

–

before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.

you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.

danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.

“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”

“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.

you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”

“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”

she has too much charm. 

“dani, you’re such a dork.”

“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”

pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place. 

it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.

–

danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.

a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.

she drops you off near the register right before the small ‘employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.

she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”

she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”

danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.

you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.

as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”

“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”

you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.

“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”

“you still in love with me or something?”

she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”

“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”

sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.

–

danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.

both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle. 

she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

“sweetheart! i missed you.”

“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”

“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”

it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”

sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”

“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”

“aw, you’d do that?”

“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”

she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys. 

your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.

there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.

you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.

–

danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”

“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little. 

“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”

“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.

“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”

“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”

“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.

“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”

“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”

“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”

danielle nods in understanding.

“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.

you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is. 

she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.

long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.

“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”

“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”

you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”

pretending. 

the word makes both you and danielle tense up.

–

you clock in again, greeting sarah. 

she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.

he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.

“hey,”

“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”

“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”

you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.

sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”

“she’s working.”

“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”

“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw. 

“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”

fuck. 

you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”

“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”

“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.

once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.

you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.

“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”

“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.” 

“sarah?”

“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”

“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”

“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”

you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”

“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”

a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”

“i hope i die.”

“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”

“can we meet at my place?”

“anything is fine, that’s alright.”

“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”

“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.” 

“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”

“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.

–

“this is so dumb.” 

you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.

hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural. 

the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too. 

“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”

you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses. 

danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.

“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”

“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”

“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.

“i hate you.”

“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?” 

minji groans, making you laugh. 

danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.

it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.

the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming. 

her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.

–

you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle. 

tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”

“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake. 

“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”

“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”

“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”

“oh, sorry to wake you.”

“it’s fine, seriously.” 

“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”

“oh, me?”

you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you are.”

“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”

“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.

it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.

danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.

“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”

“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?” 

“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”

“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.

you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything. 

you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.

it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.

despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.

(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)

–

danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.

it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air. 

you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.

“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.

“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”

“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”

“you have small hands.”

“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”

“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”

“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”

“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand. 

she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”

“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”

“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”

“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”

“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”

a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”

“am i?”

“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”

before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.

the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.

danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.

you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”

“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.

“wait, you should have it.”

“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.

you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.

“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”

“ahhh~”

you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold. 

the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can. 

a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you. 

“sorry, there was… yeah.”

“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”

“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”

the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.

you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.

“you okay?”

“just happy.”

“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”

“being with you makes me really happy.”

“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”

“please.”

“it’s getting late.”

“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.

just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.

minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.

–

the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.

there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.

sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy. 

she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.

what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter. 

she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.

you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”

“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.

what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek. 

the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.

“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”

“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”

“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”

“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…” 

the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt. 

it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.

–

nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’

neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep. 

you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too. 

you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.

–

you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.

jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).

walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.

the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.

(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.

the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)

you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.

“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”

she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.

one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.

“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”

you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.

for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.

jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking. 

your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.

“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.” 

“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.

your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight. 

as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.

the room feels like it��s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures. 

you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.

clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling. 

you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.

you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin. 

the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.

your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.

“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.

you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.

“hello?”

“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”

“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”

“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”

“y/n, oh my gosh.”

“hanni, stay on the line, please.”

“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”

“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”

“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”

“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”

silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”

“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”

“y/n…” 

danielle sits in her car, heart sinking. 

you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her. 

“please come. please.”

danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes. 

–

danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly. 

she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.

“jimin,”

she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”

“where’s y/n?”

“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”

“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.

she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.

danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.

"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.

you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture. 

“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.” 

you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.

she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”

“you’re not… hanni.”

danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”

“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”

"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.

–

you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.

a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”

“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing. 

your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.

“pretty.” you sigh dreamily. 

“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”

“okay.”

“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”

“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.” 

danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.

you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much. 

there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”

–

danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.

why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?

you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.

you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.

she doesn’t know what to do.

–

danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection. 

but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all. 

you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days. 

it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.

“you didn’t even text me–”

“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”

hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.

“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”

“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”

“dude what.” 

you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind. 

hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”

“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”

“she did?”

“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”

“dude, what are you talking about.”

you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many –  you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.

you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.

“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”

“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”

“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”

“y/n what.”

“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”

“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.

you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”

“oh, well that’s not too bad.”

“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”

your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”

“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh.”

“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”

you sigh. “yes.”

“holy shit.”

“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”

“you need to talk to her.”

“she doesn’t want to see me.”

“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”

“okay it’s not the time for that–”

“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”

“i wish.”

“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.” 

“it’s not that–” 

your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.

as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.

“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”

“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”

“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”

you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.

“i’m fucking terrified.”

“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.

–

the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.

you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.

wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.

a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.

then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.

you swallow hard, body tensing. 

“thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”

“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”

“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”

your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”

“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”

she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.

danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”

“danielle, stop.”

“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”

“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”

she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”

“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”

“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.

the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.

“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.” 

“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”

“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”

“what?”

“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”

her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.

“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”

you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”

“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief. 

you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”

if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.

in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.

“it’s okay.”

“are you busy after this?”

danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”

“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”

“perfect.”

you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.

when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”

danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.

“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”

[taintedtort]

" SURFER GIRL! "

summary. brazil!hinata x surfer!reader

warnings. afab!reader, post!timeskip

a/n. wrote this bc of @/garfieldissocool . just a drabble idk

the ball slams into the sand with a dull thud, the sun hot against hinata‘s bare back. beach volleyball is always fun, a little bit harder, but more carefree. the atmosphere is more friendly, less competing to actually win the game.

the other team has possession of the ball, and he’s honestly starting to feel a little antsy to jump. as the opposite side prepares to serve, hinata glances out towards the sea. it was supposed to be a quick sweep of the beach, just because he needed to calm himself for a second. but something else catches his attention. it feels like a pull to his heart, a gut feeling that drags his gaze to you. he zeroes in on your frame in the water, stood on a surfboard and gliding with the waves of the ocean.

now, hinata knows close to nothing about surfing, but you’re staying on the board, so you must be pretty good, right? you’re doing it effortlessly too, like it’s as simple as walking to you.

for some reason, he can’t look away, his brain won’t let him. he's seen lots of surfers, they’re always out when he’s on the beach. he’s always thought surfing was cool, but he’d never tried it, too caught up with volleyball to try anything else. he keeps watching you, though, forgetting about the game that’s still ongoing around him. he’s impressed at first, impressed that you’re able to keep your balance so easily, but as you get closer to shore, he notices that…

oh… wow.

you’re beautiful.

he's seen many women in his time in brazil, but none like you. none as pretty or as intriguing as you. he’s never been interested in dating or girls in general, even in high school, he was always busy with volleyball. he still is. all he really thinks about is volleyball, that’s how it’s been for years.

but…

there’s something about you. maybe it’s your hair, or the way your skin looks wet, or perhaps the carefree look on your face. he isn’t sure, it’s just… you.

he decides right there that he has to meet you, he has to talk to you and find out what your voice sounds like. he has to see you up close, to get to know you.

however, before he can even move, the ball is flying into his face, hitting him on the side of his head. a sharp sting follows, and he falls back in the sand with a grunt, his hand rubbing at his skin. his eyes shoot back to you though, and suddenly you’re looking at him. he can’t even hear the sounds of his friends laughing or asking if he’s okay, can’t hear the sounds of the ocean or the seagulls flying overhead. all he can see is you. you and you’re pretty smile as you try to hold back a laugh.

he isn’t even embarrassed that you probably saw him get hit, and he isn’t embarrassed that he’s blatantly staring at you. he’s too enthralled by you to feel anything but attraction. his chest feels tight and fluttery… is this what love feels like? this is sort of how he feels when he eats good food, or when he gets a point.

after a handful of seconds, he finally regains his composure. after unscrambling his brain, he forms a coherent thought.

he's going over there.

[bbydoll18xx]

Plotting and Scheming

Paige Bueckers x reader

When UConn’s wbb team gets tired of Paige’s pining, they concoct a plan to get you into her arms.

Themes: Mutual pining, slight angst, fluff

Word count: 3.3k

I've gotten a lot of love on my other three little fics, so I hope this one is okay, as well. Let me know if you guys have anything specific you'd like me to write!

Here we go!

------------------------------------------------------

You sat on the sidelines of UConn’s basketball court, admiring the girls fiercely practicing. It was still early in the season, but the dream of winning the NCAA championship kept their grit going.

Having met several of the girls on the team early in your college career, the women’s basketball team had adopted you as one of their own. As a nursing student, you were deemed ‘the fixer of boo-boos’ and you were often around to tend to their cuts and scrapes or to answer their ridiculous medical questions.

That’s where it had all started, and you couldn’t believe where you had ended up because of it.

Your eyes bounced back and forth, following the balls and the whipping ponytails. You always felt so much pride watching them; they were your girls.

Your gaze finds Paige, as it always tends to, and you are mesmerized. She runs, throwing the ball from half court and making it into the basket effortlessly. Without thinking, you stand up, whooping and clapping rambunctiously. She makes eye contact with you, sending you a wink and blowing you a kiss dramatically. Your stomach lurches at the display of affection towards you, and you blush, causing you to glance around making sure no one saw.

Your feelings for the tall blonde had only grown as you got to know her throughout the last several years. She made you feel giddy, like a child with a school crush. As much as you enjoyed being her friend, you had wanted something more for a long time now.

You’d never admit that though. To anyone.

The other girls had spent countless hours trying to get you to admit your feelings for Paige. You held firm, though, vehemently denying any pull or attraction. They would over analyze every interaction between the two of you, and they loved the way your cheeks would bloom with pink from Paige’s compliments and affections. 

In fact, they were absolutely sure that the reason you broke up with your douchebag ex-boyfriend, Zach, was because of your feelings for Paige.

They did not need to know that was actually the case, thank you very much.

It had been on the forefront of your thoughts for weeks before the night where everything had finally exploded. 

You had dragged Zach along to the bar where the basketball team was partying it up, hoping your man would distract you from the longingness you felt for your friend. You felt such a pull towards Paige, and it fucking terrified you. 

You had walked into the bar with Zach, his hand around your waist possessively. The touch reminded you of the last time you and Paige had gone out drinking together. Trying to ignore how you wished it was slimmer and more feminine, you had allowed Zach to lead you towards where the team had gathered in a circle. 

The girls cheered as they saw you approach, thrusting a drink into your hand, encouraging you to catch up to their drunkenness. You glanced around, trying to find Paige in the crowd. 

“Well look who it is,” you heard from behind you. Whipping your head around, you were met with the familiar smirk of your favorite blonde.

“Paige!” you exclaimed, running up to give her a hug, eliciting an eye roll from your boyfriend. You pretended you didn’t see it to keep the peace. You melted into Paige’s embrace, feeling more comfortable in the moment than you had in days.

“K, Bueckers, you can get your grimy hands off my fuckin’ girlfriend,” Zach had sniped, walking away. Pretending as if the man did not even exist, Paige had looked down at you with a wide grin. It was getting harder to overlook her effect on both you and your relationship. 

 The rudeness and nastiness directed at Paige had immediately sent you over the edge.

‘How fucking dare he talk to my girl like that,’ you had thought.

In a sudden fury, you stomped over to him, already busy staring lewdly at some girl who was dancing provocatively in front of him. 

“You can fuck off. Paige can put her hands on me any time she’d like. We’re through. Kiss my ass!” you spat. You spun on your heel and marched back towards the team feeling lighter than you had in months.

“Let's do shots!” you screamed, missing the fond look Paige was giving you.

You snap out of your daydream as you see Paige sauntering over to you where you sat in the bleachers.

“Enjoying the show, huh?” she questions smugly. 

Feeling generous, you nod with a genuine smile. “You guys are doing so great already. You’re gonna go far this season; I can feel it.” The candor of your words causes Paige to beam.

“Listen, we’re all getting drinks tonight at Ted’s. You gonna come with us?”

“Oh I don't know, I've got homework and stuff…” you trail off, trying to find a suitable excuse.

Paige all but pouts. “The girls really want you there. They all told me,” she says knowingly. As if she had planned it, Azzi, KK, and Nika walk over to join you two, all sweaty from practice. 

KK all but jumps on you, causing you to groan under the sudden weight of her body being thrown against you.

“Y’all, please convince this one over here to join us tonight,” Paige pleads, turning back toward you with wide eyes.

You giggle as the girls all jump in, interrupting each other in an attempt to persuade you to come out with them.

You cut them off, trying to stop the cacophony that was echoing off the walls of the gym. 

“I would love to come, but I really have a lot of work to catch up on,” you reason. “If I finish up early, I’ll text you, Paige.” 

Paige nods at this, but you don’t miss the glum look that flits across her face. You sigh half-heartedly, suddenly feeling guilty. You hated making excuses. It was just so hard sometimes, liking her.

“Have fun, guys,” you wave before making your exit from the arena.

As you walk back to your dorm, you feel the pit in your stomach grow larger, enveloping you. Of course you wanted to spend time with Paige, but pining mixed with alcohol and the sensual music of a bar would cause cracks in the hard foundation of your skillful indifference. 

You had been perfecting it since freshman year, but with the way Paige had you feeling lately, you knew it wouldn’t take much for everything to come crashing down.

Walking through your door and sitting at your computer, you get to work, trying to distract yourself. After reviewing your notes for the tenth time and finishing your nursing care plan, you glance at the clock.

Fuck.

It was only 10:30. The girls would probably just be arriving at the bar now, and you really wanted to go meet up with them. 

‘Screw it,” you think. You are going to get drunk tonight, and you’re gonna look hot. You whip out your phone and send a quick text to Paige. Your heart races as she instantly responds. You needed to get your shit in order. Your emotions could not get the best of you tonight.

Over at Ted’s, Paige’s bored expression had quickly turned into an excited grin, causing her teammates to exchange looks of interest.

“What’s got you smiling like that, P?” asks Nika.

“More like who,” smirks KK, glancing at Paige’s phone at your text.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Paige grumbles, trying to hide her blush with her drink.

“Oh c’mon, Paige, this crush is getting ridiculous. Just tell the damn girl you like her,” Azzi demands. “We’re all getting tired of watching you pine over her.”

“Pine?” sputters Paige. “I’m hardly pining. If anything, I’m just admiring…” she trails off.

“Sure, P,” KK drawls sarcastically. “Nothing like admiring your friend’s ass.” 

The other girls snort derisively. KK was not at all off base with that observation.

“Whatever, I need another drink,” grumbles Paige. “Gotta be drunk when my friend shows up.”

Paige walks off, and the second her teammates lose sight of her, they circle up to discuss.

“Jesus, we really need to do something to fix this shit,” Ice says firmly. 

“For real, this is straight embarrassing now!” KK agrees loudly.

Azzi contemplates for a second, before a smirk slides onto her face. “I know what we can do. The only way to get Paige to make a move is to make her super jealous. We can all take turns flirting, and boom! We’ll have two happy lovebirds before we even know it!”

The ploy causes the other girls to laugh hysterically, reveling in the idea of a jealous Paige.

“Sounds perfect!” Nika laughs. “Paige is gonna hate us, but she will be fine once she finally admits her feelings.”

The rest of the girls agree, sipping their drinks and taking great pleasure in what would be coming. 

About an hour later, you walk into the bar feeling incredibly anxious. You were confident in the way you looked; tight jeans with rips that allowed the smooth flesh of your upper thigh to peak out, and a top that showed off your curves deliciously. Lips glossy and hair blown out, you were alluring, wanting all eyes on you tonight. You figured if you got hit on enough, you could distract yourself from Paige’s enticement. Little did you know it’d be at the hands of her own teammates.

You stretched your neck, scouring the bar for the basketball team. Considering their height, they were easy to spot. Flouncing over, you are greeted with the loud, drunken cheers of your favorite girls. 

You giggle at their enthusiasm, suddenly feeling more at ease. You look around, trying to spot the long blonde hair and the wide smile that constantly occupies your consciousness. 

“Where’s P?” you ask casually, trying to avoid any suspicion. This causes the faces of the aforementioned teammates to exchange sly glances that immediately have you worried.

“Oh, she's just over by the bar talking to some brunette,” Nika responds, attempting to gauge your reaction. Luckily, you had been training for this over the last several years.

Did it fucking hurt? Sure, it was like you were being stabbed repeatedly with a fucking knife, but no biggie. You could handle it.

“Cool,” you mumble, staying aloof. “I’m gonna grab a drink...”

Your reaction causes the girls to hoot with laughter once you’re out of reach.

“This is so mean. I feel bad,” mutters Caroline. “I thought we were only going to make Paige jealous…”

“It’s more fun this way. It’s like a secret mission!” KK exclaims. “Getting both of them jealous is fuckin’ perfect.”

As you walk over to the bar, you see Paige talking to a girl. She is smiling in a way that had your stomach doing somersaults, and your face screws up into a look of annoyance. Attempting to ignore the obnoxious giggles of the girl Paige was wooing, you flag down the bartender and order a double of your favorite drink. Lord knows you would need the extra alcohol tonight. 

You look around apprehensively, trying to move time forward with your brain. Your sobriety, in addition to the crammed bar, had you feeling panicked. You needed to get away from Paige before you combusted from jealousy.

Thanking the bartender, who finally slides your drink towards you, you head back to the basketball team, eventually catching Paige's attention.

Pretending you didn’t see your blonde best friend, you bring your straw to your lips in a seductive manner, catching it with your tongue and relishing in the way the alcohol begins to cloud your inhibitions. 

Paige trails behind you, desperately trying to avoid staring at your jean-clad ass.

KK doesn’t miss this. Neither does Ice. They share shit-eating grins, making mocking faces towards Paige, who flips them off in return, a look of embarrassment covering her face. 

You finally turn around, giving up your bit of pretend indifference. 

“Oh hey, P,” you say breezily. “Didn’t see you behind me.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi is already wrapping her free hand around your waist, bringing her closer to you. She says, “I missed you. C’mon, let’s go dance.”

The blonde’s eyes narrow, but Azzi is already leading you towards the brightly colored dance floor before she could respond to you. 

“The fuck?” Paige mumbles under her breath as the rest of the team exchanges deranged giggles at her shock.

The truth was that Paige was terrible at sharing. Especially you. Even before she wanted anything more than a friendship with you, Paige slightly resented anyone who took away your time and attention from her. 

The signs were so clear. So fucking clear.

Half of the girls follow you to the dance floor, leaving the others to stay with a pouting Paige. Her reaction to Azzi’s contact gives you the tiniest amount of hope, and it gives you a second wind of confidence. 

You dance with the girls, slightly confused at their antics. You were close with all of them, but the touching and incessant compliments had your head spinning.

What the hell was going on? 

Paige was usually the one clinging to you, wanting to make you blush and giggle. Tonight she was acting like a wounded puppy. Her face continuously flashing between a clenched jaw of annoyance and straight bitterness. 

Your attempts to avoid looking at her were futile. This did not go unnoticed by the team, who looked like they were enjoying your longingness way too much. 

You look up at Azzi, begging her with your eyes to tell you what was going on with Paige tonight. 

“Why is she acting like this?” you ask no one in particular, just trying to deduce the weird energy that had accompanied the entire night. The girls shrug and avoid the question altogether, carrying on with their laughing and gyrating.

You sigh, exhausted from the game they were clearly playing. You needed more alcohol or it was going to be a rough night; you were too sober to deal with this. 

“C’mon, shake those hips,” an evidently very drunk Nika, whispers in your ear with a smirk. She brings a hand down to rest on your waist, the other trailing down your back…lower and lower. You look at her, slightly shocked at the affection. Before Nika’s hand could even reach your ass, you feel yourself being ripped away from her by a swearing Paige.

“What the actual fuck, dude?” Paige all but yells at her Croatian teammate, her eyes wild with anger and her jaw clenched with an impressive amount of control. 

Nika just laughs at Paige’s overreaction, along with every other girl on the team.

“What’s wrong, P?” Azzi asks with a mocking tone. “Pissed that someone other than you touched your girl?”

Paige’s voice falters as she responds, “she’s not my girl…just don’t want her to be uncomfortable or whatever…”

Hearing Azzi refer to you as Paige’s girl made your head spin. What the fuck does that mean?

Your head quickly bounces between a smirking Nika, an uncomfortable-looking Paige, and the rest of the team, who were trying and failing, to hold in their laughter.

“I’m confused…” you trail off in a quiet attempt to get some answers.

A few seconds of silence pass before KK breaks it. “Girl boo, just talk to Paige. And use protection.”

Excuse me, what?

The girls vacate the area, leaving you and the blonde staring at each other, both afraid to make the first move.

“Let’s walk back to my apartment. We can talk there,” Paige finally mutters. 

You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Things felt vulnerable. Like one wrong move and everything would come crashing down into oblivion. You didn't want your relationship with Paige to be ruined; your one-sided crush already disrupting the delicate balance of it all.

The ten minute walk back to Paige’s felt like years. The air was heavy, constricting your entire being. You held back a sob as the dread seeped into your soul. You couldn’t let Paige see you cry; it was embarrassing enough knowing that she probably already knew of your feelings.

You would get through this. Just let her let you down easy and then you could escape.

As you mentally plan the funeral for your friendship, Paige reaches for your hand, cold from the bitter chill of the night. Your reflexes are quick, wanting to rip it away from her in an attempt to guard the tiniest bit of pride left in you, but you still. 

Nevertheless, you wanted her. And even worse, you needed her. So you allow her to gently take your hand, interlacing your fingers and rubbing a thumb over the smooth skin soothingly. 

It felt so intimate, and the tears in your eyes threatened to spill over your cheeks once more. You glance up, feeling relief as you spot the parking lot of the apartment building. 

As you enter Paige’s room, you look around, trying to memorize everything that made up your friend. ‘This’ll probably be the last time I’ll be here,’ you think solemnly, gazing at the purple comforter thrown haphazardly over the unmade bed. No more giddy nights spent pressed against the blonde, praying she can’t feel the thumping of your heart as she cuddles you.

You sit on the bed warily, readying yourself for the rejection from your most favorite person in the entire world. 

Paige can tell you’re anxious. You unconsciously pick at your fingernails, and your bottom lip is already swollen from being habitually bitten.

She sits beside you, placing a hand over yours again, as if she thinks it belongs there for some reason. In your version of the story, it did. Everything that was yours belonged to Paige.

“I have to tell you something. And I'm really not sure how you’ll react…” Paige trails off, hesitant of how to approach the situation. She clears her throat and continues, “I have feelings for you. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but it’s fine. And the girls knew tonight and were messin’ with me. They thought if they made me jealous enough, I’d do somethin’ about my feelings. And I guess they were kinda right.”

Upon hearing the long winded confession, your ears start ringing and your heart feels as if it might actually combust. 

She has feelings for you? 

You pinch your thigh, slightly wincing at the pain before your face slides into an elated grin. This was actually real.

She has feelings for you. 

Paige searches your face for some sort of guess on how you were reacting to her maundering. With the alcohol still in your system and the shock of her words still reverberating through you, you could do nothing except launch yourself at her gorgeous mouth.

She squeals, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden movement before realizing that the pining she had been doing the last several years was in fact mutual.

Your lips collide, fuckin’ finally, in a kiss that could only be described as heavenly. It was passionate and slow, deliberately savoring the feel and taste of what had been only daydreams for a very long time. 

Ultimately needing to break away for some air, you gaze at each other, reveling in the idea that the pain and heartbreak of years of pining and jealousy was no longer. It was peaceful. It made sense to you, though. Paige was your peace, and you were hers.

Laying down together, you whisper fondly, “I love your teammates so much. Even if their methods are a bit crazy, they really do mean well.”

Paige chuckles in reply. “We are so getting them back for that little stunt, though, right?”

“Of course,” you hum. “Two can play at that game.”

[sugasiren]

🧜🏾‍♀️ SIRENE (1009): Top 3 Sex Symbols! 💋

SIREN: A seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men; A woman who is a very attractive but dangerous temptress. 🔥🔥

The Sirene (1009) asteroid is one of my absolute favorites to explore. 🧜🏾‍♀️ And I have many! Its placement in a woman's chart tells us about her brand of Dark Femininity. How she seduces and influences. How she harnesses her power and the TYPES of men who are helplessly drawn to her. 💋 Every Sign has incredible qualities! I'm simply sharing my Top 3 Sirens based on the research I've done. So enjoy and share your Siren below!

**FYI - Men with these placements are also very sexy and captivating in their own way. 💯 So I will include some famous examples for them as well.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Siren in Scorpio 🔥

Famous Women:

Sophia Loren (pictured above)

Sade (pictured above)

Lisa Bonet (pictured above)

Lana Del Rey (pictured above)

Dita Von Teese (pictured above)

Beyonce

SZA

Traci Lords

Monica Bellucci

Mae West

Grace Kelly

Bridget Bardot

Christina Aguilera

Angelica Houston

Zeudi Araya

Liv Tyler

Siren in Scorpio MEN:

The Rock

Brad Pitt

Paul Newman

Ryan Gosling

Carlos Santana

Idris Elba

Bruno Mars

Fabio

JFK

SCORPIO SIRENS lure you in with their hypnotic eyes that are as deep as the Blue Sea. 🧜🏾‍♀️ Their powerful aura will quickly swallow you whole and you will enjoy every moment of it. 💋 They effortlessly captivate and are explosive Lovers! They love to keep you guessing. As they know, you'll be addicted to the mystery of it all and keep coming back for more. And they're right! Just like Monica Bellucci and Lana Del Rey - these women can casually sit somewhere, smoking a cigarette, and *everyone* around them is watching in total ENVY of that damn cigarette. 🔥 Others like Lisa Bonet and Sade are gentle and ethereal but they will *still* snatch your SOUL. The Male Sirens are charismatic heartthrobs who make panties drop everywhere they roam. Women submit to them with glee. They want their 'Notebook' moment with Ryan Gosling, okay! And for The Rock to lay the smackdown (and pipe) on their kitty. 😺 And nothing less.

Siren in Capricorn 👑

Famous Women:

Brooke Shields (pictured above)

Megan Thee Stallion (pictured above)

January Jones (pictured above)

Stevie Nicks (pictured above)

Amal Clooney (pictured above)

Megan Fox (pictured above)

Teyana Taylor

Doja Cat

Mamie Van Doren

Ava Gardener

Mariah Carey

Shania Twain

Tyra Banks

Karrine Steffans

Amber Heard

Ellie Goulding

Eartha Kitt

Siren in Capricorn MEN:

James Dean

Robert Plant

Robert Pattinson

Matthew McConaughey

William Holden

Prince William

Kobe Bryant

Suge Knight

Andrew Tate

AJ McLean

Gerard Butler

CAPRICORN SIRENS lure you in with their deeply earthy, erotic energy. They are smoldering volcanoes underneath their cool IDGAF exterior and this enticing contrast drives people wild! 🔥 They have monstrous sex drives yet are very grounded in their personal power and selective about who they entertain, so others seek their approval. The Female Sirens often attract highly influential and/or dominant men who crave her submission and loyalty. Their desire to control her can truly consume them! 💯 They see her as the Ultimate Challenge and want her AT ALL COSTS. Their results vary depending upon what *she* actually wants. For instance, Amal Clooney. She was able to capture the heart of life-long bachelor George Clooney with impeccable ease. 🩷 He looks at her with stars in his eyes! They have the ideal marriage. Mariah Carey ultimately made Tommy Matola (the Record Executive who signed her to his label) wait until they were married before being intimate with him. She had such an effect on her ex-husband after **opening her luscious Pearly Gates** 🙌 that he put cameras up around the house to watch her every move. He was utterly obsessed with her! Amber Heard is an example of Capricorn Siren in full Destruction Mode. And Karrine "Superhead" Steffans in literal Maneater Mode slurping her way to THE TOP. The Male Sirens simply have Big Dick Energy - period. They are Doms, Bosses and Kings. 👑 Women yearn for them to (symbolically) suck their blood and their p***y like Robert Pattinson in 'Twilight' with carnivorous passion. 🔥 They want to surrender doggystyle to a man like Gerard Butler in the '300' movie. And even when they are stone cold killers like Suge Knight or manipulative pimps like Andrew Tate... they still command respect! They possess massive amounts of Masculine charm.

Siren in Sagitarius 👠

Famous Women:

Marilyn Monroe (pictured above)

Dorothy Dandridge (pictured above)

Rita Hayworth (pictured above)

Shakira (pictured above)

Indira Varma (pictured above)

Kim Cattrall

Margot Robbie

Robin Givens

Tina Turner

Dana Delaney

Emilia Clarke

Gwen Stefani

Aishwarya Rai

Rose McGowan

Sagittarius Siren MEN:

Paul Walker

Patrick Swayze

Elvis Presley

Clark Gable

Mario Lopez

Marilyn Manson

Shia LaBeouf

Michele Marrone

Marvin Gaye

SAGITTARIUS SIRENS lure you in like smoke rising from a bonfire in an enchanted forest during a Drum Circle. They illuminate dangerous levels of heat. ☀️ That will melt you like hot lava with their dynamic sex appeal. Baddies to the bone! Their esthetic widely appeals to the masses and individuals from *all* walks of life. People from *all* ethnic backgrounds admire and lust after them. 💋 They are exciting and make people feel ALIVE. And they're often the epitome of someone's Dream Girl or Guy. Marilyn Monroe is a FOREVER Icon who lives on generation after generation. 🌟 And her Feminine prowess remains unmatched no matter how much time goes by. Rita Hayworth is another immortal Sex Symbol and proud Latina. As is Dorothy Dandridge - who broke many barriers for Black Women in film and greatly appealed to a variety of powerful men such as Marlon Brando and Otto Priminger. Margot Robbie in the 'Wolf of Wallstreet' and 'Barbie' movies? 🩷 Nuff said! The Male Sirens are usually a strong yet suave bunch - like Clark Gable and Patrick Swayze. And that's a killer combination, my friends! They are often Rebels. 💪 Whether clean-cut ones like Paul Walker, goth ones like Marilyn Manson or rebels GONE WRONG like Shia LaBeouf. Either way, they are magnetic.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

And that's a wrap for now! 💛 I'll be back soon with more on SIREN and other awesome asteroids. Thanks for reading.

[theshift]

The Deal Part 2 (Reuploaded)

The first week as Lukas was pure exhilaration. For years, Marco had been weighed down by responsibilities—running a business, maintaining a crumbling marriage, and keeping up appearances in the upper-class world. But now, in Lukas’ lean, agile body, Marco felt untethered, like he had shed the chains of his old life. Every movement, every glance in the mirror, reminded him of his newfound freedom. He couldn’t get over how effortlessly Lukas carried himself—how easy it was to slip into a life without strings attached.

Lukas’ job at his office was simple, almost mind-numbingly so, but that suited Marco perfectly. No stress, no high-stakes decisions, just a few hours a day of mundane work. But the real thrill came at night.

Marco found himself drawn to bars, nightlife, and dating apps—anonymously exploring the side of his sexuality he’d buried for so long. He indulged in hookups with men and women alike, basking in the freedom to be someone else. He reveled in the casual, unburdened encounters, the excitement of living without the weight of his old life’s judgment. Every morning he would wake up feeling more like Lukas and less like Marco.

Yet Marco's initial thrill at living in Lukas’ skin had morphed into something more complex. The simplicity of the life he had borrowed was no longer enough. He craved the power and control he had in his real life, but wearing Lukas’ face had given him something different—access to people who didn’t see him as the calculating businessman but as someone unassuming, approachable. It opened doors to the kind of men he had never encountered in his high-stakes corporate world. The tension between them was delicious. Marco had met rugged men in the bar who smelled of sweat, leather, and cigarettes, the kinds of men who didn’t give a damn about luxury but commanded respect in a different way. There was something raw about them that Marco found deeply attractive. These men were real, unrefined, and authentic in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to be in years. Vincent, though, had been the turning point. He was sophisticated, ambitious, and had taken a liking to Lukas—well, to Marco wearing Lukas’ skin.

Vincent had approached Marco at Luka's company's late night casual networking event, drink in hand, eyes scanning the room before landing on Marco-as-Lukas with a smile that was equal parts charm and calculation.

Vincent: "There you are. I was beginning to think you'd slipped away again." His tone was playful, but there was an edge to it, the subtle challenge of a man used to getting what he wanted.

Marco (as Lukas) turned, offering a boyish grin that felt foreign on his face, but fitting for the persona he’d adopted. Vincent was every bit the kind of man Marco used to conquer in business, but tonight, the game was different.

Marco: "You think I'd sneak off without saying goodbye? That’s not my style." His voice was lighter, teasing, playing into the role of the carefree, younger man Vincent thought he was. "Besides, you’re the most interesting thing here. Why would I leave?"

Vincent chuckled, the sound rich and smooth, like the bourbon in his glass. "You flatter me, Lukas. But I’ve seen you watching everything, soaking it in like someone who’s never been in a room like this before." He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to make the conversation feel intimate. "Tell me, what do you really think?"

Marco leaned against the bar, keeping his posture relaxed, easygoing—nothing like the power stance he would’ve taken as Marco. "Oh, you know..." he began, feigning innocence, "it's a lot bigger than what I’m used to. Flashy. Expensive." He paused, locking eyes with Vincent and letting his smile turn just a shade darker. "But it’s not the room that makes the night interesting, is it? It’s the company."

Vincent's eyes gleamed with interest, clearly taken with the charm. He swirled his drink, considering the words. "You’re different from the others, Lukas. Most guys in this town don’t even know what they’re missing, but you... you seem curious. Like you want something more."

Marco shrugged, his expression mischievous. "Maybe I do. Maybe I’m tired of the same old thing. Figured I’d let someone like you show me what else is out there." He let the words hang, perfectly calculated, knowing exactly how Vincent would interpret them.

Vincent took the bait, leaning in, his gaze intense. "I can show you things you’ve never even dreamed of, Lukas." His voice was low, dripping with intent. You’ve got potential—could be so much more than what you are now."

Marco suppressed a smirk, playing into the role of the eager protégé. "You really think so?" His voice softened, feigning vulnerability. He let a brief silence pass, before adding with just the right amount of edge: "I mean, it’s not like I’m completely green, Vincent. I can handle myself. But... I wouldn’t mind someone showing me the ropes."

Vincent’s smile widened, clearly enjoying the game as much as Marco. "I bet you can handle yourself just fine. But a little guidance never hurt anyone." He reached out, his hand resting casually on Marco’s arm. "You’ve got the charm, the looks—everything you need to make it big. Just need to play your cards right. Stick close to me, and you’ll go places."

Marco (as Lukas) tilted his head, the hint of a challenge creeping into his tone. "And what do you get out of it, huh? Guys like you don’t do things out of charity. You’ve got an angle. I can tell."

Vincent chuckled again, clearly amused by Lukas’ feigned boldness. "Oh, I like you even more now. Sharp, aren’t you? Well, let’s just say I enjoy investing in the right people. And you... you're an investment I’m willing to make." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a near whisper. "But only if you’re up for the ride."

Marco let his lips curl into a knowing smirk, the predatory glint of the real man shining through just for a second. He leaned in slightly, their proximity intensifying the moment. "I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises, Vincent. You might be biting off more than you can chew."

Vincent’s eyes flashed with excitement, oblivious to the hidden meaning in Marco’s words. He saw a young, hungry man ready to be molded, and that was exactly what Marco wanted. "I like a challenge, Lukas. Don’t let me down."

Marco raised his glass, clinking it lightly against Vincent’s. "Oh, I won’t. But remember, it’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

As the night deepened, the tension between them thickened, the air filled with promises of secrets and power. Marco, playing the role of Lukas, had Vincent hooked, all while hiding the truth beneath a mask of youth and ambition. It was a dangerous game, but one Marco knew how to play better than anyone. And Vincent, despite his confidence, had no idea he was dealing with a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Something darker began to brew inside of Marcos. The more he tasted this freedom, the more he realized he couldn’t—wouldn’t—go back. A voice in the back of his mind whispered, “Why should you?” He ignored it at first, but with each passing day, the temptation to stay in Lukas’ body grew stronger, irresistible.

--

Lukas had crafted a morning routine that had become his sanctuary amid the chaos of Marco’s life. He would rise early, allowing the soft glow of dawn to spill into the room, illuminating the contours of his reflection in the mirror. Each day began with a ritual: a splash of cold water on his face to shake off the remnants of sleep, some light running in the morning, followed by edging session playing with his new borrowed member. Each stroke getting Lukas horny from the sight of seeing Marco's body pleasuring itself. Something he could only have hoped to imagine when he fantasized about being with Marco, but now it was his reality.

As he stood before the mirror, he couldn’t help but admire the features that had been borrowed from Marco—strong jawline, sculpted muscles, and that enchanting beard that seemed to whisper of adventure. He snapped a quick selfie, the camera capturing a glimpse of the man he had momentarily become. He traced his fingers along his cheeks, reveling in the unfamiliar sensation of confidence that washed over him. There was something undeniably attractive about Marco, a magnetic charisma that seeped into Lukas' very being, leaving him both enthralled and envious.

He relished the sound of Marco's voice echoing in his mind—the way it rolled off his tongue, thick with an accent that made even the simplest words feel like poetry. It was a voice that commanded attention, and in those fleeting moments of quiet, Lukas felt a thrill at the thought of embodying such presence. But as the day wore on, that initial allure began to fade, and he was faced with the harsh reality of the life he was now navigating.

Lukas was drowning. Marco’s life was a far cry from the easy-going world he had known. Running a business felt like trying to steer a ship in a storm—meetings, deadlines, pressure mounting with every passing day. The people around Marco were sharp, watching Lukas with keen eyes, expecting him to perform. Every moment was a struggle to keep up, to pretend he knew what Marco knew.

But it was Marco’s family that terrified him the most.

Serena, Marco’s wife, seemed distant, almost cold, though Lukas couldn’t tell if that was how their marriage had always been or if she was starting to suspect something. But it was Marco’s two sons, Ethan and Daniel, who posed the real challenge. They were home for winter break, and Lukas was thrown into the deep end—expected to be their father, to navigate years of inside jokes, shared memories, and father-son dynamics he had no grasp of.

The tension came to a head one evening at dinner. Ethan had been quiet, but Daniel watched him closely, eyes sharp. Then Daniel asked, seemingly innocently, “Dad, remember that fishing trip we took a few summers ago? When we caught that massive bass?”

Lukas felt his stomach drop. His mind raced—he didn’t remember anything about a fishing trip. He scrambled, piecing together bits of information Marco had casually mentioned, but it was like fumbling in the dark.

“Oh, yeah… that was a good one,” Lukas mumbled, trying to sound convincing. He forced a laugh, but Daniel’s eyes didn’t leave him. There was a flicker of doubt in his son’s gaze, a knowing look that made Lukas’ pulse quicken. He had to be careful. One more slip-up, and the illusion would shatter.

That night, Lukas lay in bed, his heart pounding. He couldn’t do this anymore. Marco’s life was suffocating him. He needed out.

The only plus side were at events and high-profile gatherings, Lukas, wearing Marco’s skin, found himself gravitating toward men Marco would have likely brushed off in another life. Among these men was Richard—a sharp, ambitious figure who wielded power like a weapon. Lukas could see it in the way Richard moved through a room, his presence commanding attention and respect. Yet, there was something else about Richard, something that softened behind closed doors.

Richard had been watching Lukas-as-Marco for weeks. His glances lingered just a little too long, and his smile held a certain knowing edge. Lukas, under the pressure of maintaining Marco’s image, had mostly avoided him, understanding the dangerous game that flirting with one of Marco’s powerful business partners could become. But tonight was different. Lukas was tired of carrying the weight of Marco’s responsibilities, and Richard’s eyes were burning into him from across the room.

Lukas decided to play along, just for tonight

As the event wound down, Richard approached, his gaze piercing through the crowd. He sidled up next to Lukas, drink in hand, and a cigar in his mouth, his tone smooth and suggestive. "Marco, you’ve been keeping your distance lately. Starting to think you’re avoiding me." His smile was coy, eyes glinting with challenge.

Lukas turned, letting the faintest smirk play on his lips. "Avoiding you, Richard? Now, why would I do that?" He sipped his drink leisurely, tilting his head just enough to meet Richard’s gaze head-on, the flicker of mischief evident.

"You tell me." Richard’s voice lowered, laced with innuendo. "You’ve been...different lately. Bolder, I’d say. I like it."

Lukas let the compliment hang between them for a moment before responding, his voice casual but dripping with flirtation. "I’ve found there are some advantages to stepping out of the box. Keeps things... interesting." His eyes danced with amusement as he leaned a little closer, just enough for Richard to catch the subtle shift in energy.

Richard raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Is that so? Well, I’ve always appreciated a man who knows how to keep things interesting. But you—" He gestured with his glass, "—you’ve been a bit of a mystery lately. And I do love a good mystery."

Lukas chuckled, a soft, knowing sound. "A mystery? Me? I thought I was an open book, Richard. What you see is what you get." The lie tasted delicious on his tongue. He knew he was playing with fire, but for the first time in weeks, it felt good—liberating, even.

Richard’s gaze sharpened, his smirk deepening. "Oh, Marco, you and I both know that’s far from the truth. There’s always more beneath the surface with you. And I like uncovering secrets." He leaned in, his breath warm as he added, "What’s changed? What’s made you loosen up all of a sudden?"

Lukas shrugged, pretending to be thoughtful. "Maybe I’ve just learned to stop taking things so seriously. Life’s too short for all that, don’t you think?" He let his fingers brush the edge of Richard’s sleeve, a calculated move that sent a silent message.

Richard’s eyes flicked down to the touch, a spark of something darker flashing in them. "I couldn’t agree more," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But something tells me you’ve got more on your mind than just living in the moment."

Lukas smiled, all charm and mystery. "Perhaps," he said, leaning back casually, "but some things are better left unsaid. Keeps people guessing."

Richard chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the game. "You’re good, Marco. Very good. But don’t think I won’t find out what you’re really after."

Lukas raised his glass, his eyes locking with Richard’s. "I wouldn’t dream of stopping you."

The tension between them simmered, charged and electric. Lukas could feel the thrill of the game pulsing in his veins, the subtle dance of power and attraction intoxicating. For a moment, he forgot he was in Marco’s skin, forgot the risks—this was his release, his way of letting off steam from the crushing pressure of being someone else. It was exhilarating.

But Richard, ever the predator, wasn’t one to let his prey slip away so easily. "You know," Richard said, his voice dropping an octave, "I’ve always had a soft spot for men who keep me on my toes. It’s rare to find someone who can play at my level."

Lukas leaned in, his voice low and teasing. "Maybe you’ve just been playing with the wrong people, Richard. Some of us are just waiting for the right moment to strike."

Richard’s eyes gleamed with amusement, but beneath it was something hungrier. "Is that a challenge, Marco?"

Lukas let a slow, deliberate smile spread across his face. "It’s whatever you want it to be."

Richard paused, studying Lukas with a new intensity. "Careful, Marco," he warned, though his tone was laced with approval. "Play too hard, and you might find yourself in over your head."

Lukas tilted his head, unfazed. "I think I’ll take my chances."

The air between them crackled with the unspoken tension, both men pushing and pulling in a game neither wanted to lose. For Lukas, this was his outlet, a moment to let go of the suffocating role of Marco and indulge in something riskier, more thrilling. But Richard was dangerous. One wrong step, and Lukas could unravel everything.

Still, as the night continued, Lukas couldn’t help but savor the adrenaline coursing through him. For now, he was winning the game, and that was enough.

--

After a month of silence, the day came when Lukas and Marco were supposed to swap back. Lukas arrived at Marco’s house, jittery with anticipation. He was desperate to shed this life, and to return to his own body. Marco, in Lukas’ body, seemed eerily calm. Too calm.

They went upstairs, the house quiet except for the ticking of the clock. As Lukas reached to peel off Marco’s skin, a wave of relief washed over him—but it didn’t last. No matter how hard he tried, the suit wouldn’t budge. Panic surged through him.

"Marco, it’s not coming off," Lukas’ voice wavered, his hands trembling as he tugged at the skin suit.

Marco, still wearing Lukas' body, stood back, watching him with an unsettling calmness. "Try again," he said, his tone too casual.

Lukas pulled harder, but it was useless. The suit had fused with him, like a second skin. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as the realization dawned on him. He turned to Marco, eyes wide with fear.

“What the hell is happening?”

Marco sighed, finally stepping forward, his expression hardening. "I didn’t want it to come to this, Lukas. But there’s something I didn’t tell you."

Lukas felt the world tilting. "What do you mean?"

"I had the ability to lock the suits. From the moment we swapped, I made sure we couldn’t undo it unless I wanted to."

Lukas’ breath hitched. His blood ran cold as Marco’s words sank in. "You—what?" he stammered, his voice rising. "Unlock it. Now."

Marco shook his head slowly. "No, Lukas. I’m not going back."

Lukas’ legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the bed. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the betrayal. "You planned this the whole time… You never wanted to switch back."

Marco laughed, shaking his head. “You wanted this, remember? You wanted to know what it felt like to be me. Don't lie and admit that you enjoy being me And I... well, I got a little attached to being you.”

Lukas lunged forward, grabbing Marco by the collar. The strangeness of seeing his own face reacting with surprise only fueled his rage. “You don’t get to just decide this!” Lukas shouted, his grip tightening.

But Marco only smirked, calm and collected. “What are you going to do, Lukas? Beat yourself up?”

Lukas faltered for a moment, realizing the futility of his aggression. 

Marco’s gaze darkened, his calm facade finally breaking. "I can’t go back. You don’t understand. My life—it’s a cage. And this, being you, it’s the only freedom I’ve felt in years." He stepped closer, towering over Lukas. "You’ll get used to it. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out," Marco said coldly.

Lukas felt his world spin. Could he really let this happen? Marco, living his life indefinitely, while he remained trapped in Marco’s skin, playing the role of someone he wasn’t?

“I’ll... I’ll tell Serena,” Lukas stammered, grasping at straws. “I’ll tell everyone what you did.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed, his grin fading. “You think they’ll believe you? I’m you now. You look like me. You sound like me. Who do you think they’ll believe?”

The reality hit Lukas like a punch to the gut. Marco was right. He was trapped in Marco’s body, and no one would believe him if he tried to tell them the truth. Marco had all the power now, and Lukas was helpless to stop him.

“You’re stuck, Lukas,” Marco said softly, his tone almost pitying. “We both are, in a way. But we can make the best of it. You keep living my life, I keep living yours, and maybe—just maybe—we both come out better for it.”

--

Had to continue the story since so many of you requested. Should I do part 3? Let me know.  - The Shift

[seriallover]

Why certain people capture the spotlight?⭐️

1. The luminaries, the Sun and Moon naturally draw attention in a birth chart. People with strong Sun or Moon placements tend to light up any room they enter, effortlessly standing out.

Just like everyone loves capturing the beauty of a sunrise or the glow of a full moon, those with these placements have a magnetic energy that people can’t help but notice.

It’s almost like they’re always in the spotlight, which is why they often feel the need to look their best.☀️🌕

Beyoncé, Purva Phalguni Sun, Chitra Lagna and Venus.

Michael Jackson, Magha Sun and Shatabhisha Lagna.

Bella Hadid, Purva Phalguni Moon and Lagna.

There's not much to say about Beyoncé and Michael that isn't already well-known—they're icons in their own right, the biggest stars of our time. Bella Hadid has become the most photographed model off-duty and in 2022, she was named Model of the Year.

Gia Carangi, often hailed as the first true supermodel, paved the way for all the other supermodels that followed. She had a Shravana Sun and Lagnesh, with Hasta as her Lagna and a Shatabhisha Moon.

Britney Spears, Shravana Moon, was one of the most photographed stars for a while. The crazy amount of media attention even led to harassment and really affected her mental health.

Gisele Bündchen, Pushya Sun and Purva Phalguni Lagna, the only "Ubermodel"-that means being more than a supermodel.

Lauren Hutton, Pushya Moon and Lagna, holds the record for the most Vogue covers—26 in total.

I previously explored about how lunar-dominant people often achieve significant success on social media.

2. Chitra Nakshatra, known as the "Star of Opportunity," carries the Shakti of "accumulating merit." The word "Chitra" translates to "wonderful" and "pleasing to look at," as well as "illusion."

The deity of this nakshatra is Tvastar, the celestial architect who designed the universe. The symbol of Chitra is the "pearl" or "bright jewel," symbolizing beauty and uniqueness.💎💍

"Chitra" also means "picture," so individuals with this nakshatra are often naturally photogenic. 📸Tvastar, as the creator of Maya (illusion), grants those under Chitra the ability to craft captivating personas, making them talented models, photographers, actors, and successful on social media.

Kim Kardashian, Chitra Sun, built a career centered on her image. As one of the first influencers, she's become one of the most prominent and influential figures on social media. In 2015, she released “Selfish”, a book featuring a collection of her selfies.

Cindy Kimberly, Chitra Moon and Shravana Lagna, shot to fame because of her striking beauty. Her big break came when Justin Bieber posted about her on his Instagram. Now, she’s a major beauty influencer and a well-known model.

Anna Nicole Smith, Chitra Sun and Hasta Moon, made a name for herself as a model, completely based on her image. She was once one of the most photographed women in the world, and photographers loved working with her, often saying she was one of the easiest and most exciting people to capture on camera.

The thing with Chitra individuals is that, because of Tvastar, the celestial craftsman, their features often become iconic. For instance, Kim drew the attention to the BBL, Cindy’s nose has become a major inspiration for many women, and Anna Nicole brought attention back to curvy bodies at a time when the "heroin chic" look was in vogue, reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe's era.

3. Dhanishtha🌟 Shakti is "power to give abundance and fame," meaning "the most famous," "the most heard of." This nakshatra is recurring in the charts of people who usually marry famous individuals, making them well-known as well, often attracting more attention than their partner.

Princess Diana, Dhanishtha Moon and Magha Lagnesh, was the most photographed woman in the world, holding the record for the most sold-out paparazzi pictures, including one that sold for 6 million dollars.

Marilyn Monroe, Rohini Sun, Dhanishtha Moon, and Ashlesha Lagna, was also one of the most photographed women of her time.

4. Shatabhisha, meaning "hundred stars" and represented by a veiled star and an empty circle, is a nakshatra ruled by Rahu. ⭕️

This nakshatra is associated with illusion, the power to effect radical change, innovation, the foreign, esoteric influences, and trends. The empty circle can also symbolize the idea of a cult or community, like the Navy for Rihanna.

Rihanna, Shatabhisha Sun, stands out as one of the most influential artists and fashion icons. She has consistently set trends in the fashion world, with her style serving as an inspiration to many. Recently, her maternity looks have redefined how celebrities approach their appearance during pregnancy, bringing a stylish twist to the norm.

Demi Moore, Lagnesh in Shravana and Jupiter in Shatabhisha in the first house, set a trend for nude pregnancy photoshoots. At the time, this was quite controversial, but it has since become a common practice not just among celebrities, but also for non-celebrity women.

Elizabeth Taylor, Sun in Shatabhisha, was also a major target for paparazzi. George Hamilton once remarked:

"I remember when the word 'paparazzi' came along, and it just meant a bunch of guys who were all photographers looking for Elizabeth Taylor. Desperately looking for Elizabeth Taylor! And that was the beginning of paparazzi. They were not going for glamour anymore. They were going for the destruction of glamour."

[a-lexia11]

Beyond the gap

Jenni hermoso x reader

Word count: 6k

Warning:angst,age gap

Summary: After moving to Mexico to play for Tigres Femenil, Y/N encounters Jenni, a 5'9" tattooed Spanish woman who is 11 years older than her.

Based on this request but for Jenni.

When I first arrived in Monterrey, everything felt different—new city, new culture, new team, new language.

I don’t mean to brag, but my Spanish is flawless. I’ve been practicing it daily ever since I found out about my upcoming transfer to Mexico.

Tigres UANL Feminil was a powerhouse in women’s football in Mexico, and being transferred here at 23 felt like a dream come true.

But as much as I tried to focus on the game, there was something—or rather, someone—that kept drawing my attention.

Jenni Hermoso.

She was hard to miss. At 5’9”, with tattoos covering her arms and a confidence that could turn heads, Jenni commanded attention wherever she went.

Her presence on the field was undeniable, but off the pitch, it was her cocky yet assured demeanor that left me in awe. Jenni was older—34—and had an aura of experience and self-assurance that I found incredibly attractive.

But it wasn’t just her physical presence; it was the way she carried herself, the way her eyes sparkled with a knowing glint, and how she effortlessly dominated every room she walked into.

Yet, there was also a wall around her, one that I quickly realized was going to be difficult to break through.

From the moment we met, there was a spark between us, a connection that felt impossible to ignore. But Jenni was careful, almost too careful.

She kept her distance, her teasing and playful remarks always followed by a subtle retreat, as if she was afraid of letting herself get too close.

I could see it—the way her eyes would linger on me just a second too long, the way she’d smile, then quickly look away as if catching herself in the act.

I wanted to understand why she was holding back. Maybe it was because of the 11-year age gap. I knew that she was aware of the potential backlash we’d face if we pursued anything beyond friendship—both from the team and the outside world.

Football was a tough world, and relationships like that, if they ever became public, would undoubtedly raise eyebrows.

Despite that, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. How could I not be? Jenni was sweet, nice, and helpful, but there was an underlying fire in her that captivated me.

The more I got to know her, the more I found myself wanting to be close to her, to be the one who broke through her defenses.

——

It wasn’t long before I couldn’t take it anymore. We were sitting in the locker room after a training session, the air thick with exhaustion and the smell of sweat.

Jenni was across the room, casually chatting with a few of the girls, her laughter ringing out like music. I could barely concentrate on the conversation around me; my eyes kept drifting over to her.

Her smile, the way she playfully nudged one of the girls, the way she ran a hand through her dark hair—it all sent my heart racing.

She caught my eye and smirked, a teasing glint in her gaze that made my stomach flip. That was it. I had to make a move. It felt like the universe was giving me a push, telling me it was now or never.

“Jenni,” I called out as I walked over to her, my heart pounding in my chest. Without thinking, I took her large hand and led her to a more private space in the corner of the locker room.

Her hand was warm in mine, and the moment our skin touched, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me. She looked surprised, but she didn’t pull away.

“¿Qué pasa, Y/N?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and something else—something softer, more hesitant.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “¿Quieres cenar conmigo esta noche?” (Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?)

Her smile faltered for just a moment, and I saw a flicker of something—hesitation, maybe even fear—in her eyes.

But then she regained her composure, that cocky grin back in place. “¿Cena? ¿Solo nosotros dos?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice playful but cautious. (Dinner? Just the two of us?)

“Sí, como amigas,” I added quickly, not wanting to scare her off. “Nada serio, solo una comida.” (Yes, as friends. Nothing serious, just a meal.)

She studied me for a long moment, and I could see the gears turning in her head. Finally, she nodded, her gaze softening. “Está bien. Como amigas.” (Alright. As friends.)

But even as she agreed, I could tell that Jenni was wary. There was something holding her back, a reluctance I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Was it the age difference? The fear of what others might think? Or was it something deeper, something more personal?

——

Dinner that night was better than I could have imagined. We went to a small restaurant in the heart of Monterrey, the kind of place that was dimly lit and intimate.

The warm glow of the candles cast a soft light on Jenni’s face, highlighting the sharp lines of her jaw and the intricate tattoos that adorned her arms. She was stunning, and I found it hard to tear my eyes away from her.

Jenni was in her element, charming the waitstaff and making me laugh with stories from her career.

She had this way of drawing people in, making them feel like they were the only person in the room. And tonight, I was the lucky one in her spotlight.

We were just two people enjoying each other’s company, and I could see that Jenni was relaxing, letting her guard down. She laughed easily, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that adorable way that made my heart skip a beat.

But then, as the evening wound down and we walked back to her car, that hesitation returned. I could feel the shift in her demeanor, a pulling back that I hadn’t noticed before.

She became quieter, more reserved, as if something was weighing heavily on her mind.

“Jenni,” I said softly, stopping her before she could unlock the car door. I reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm.

The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine. “¿Qué pasa? Pareces distante.” (What’s going on? You seem distant.)

She sighed, her eyes scanning the empty street before finally settling on me. “Y/N, eres increíble,” she began, her voice sincere but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. “Pero… no sé si esto es una buena idea.” (Y/N, you’re amazing, but… I don’t know if this is a good idea.)

I frowned, confused. “¿Por qué no?” (Why not?)

She hesitated, biting her lip before answering. “La diferencia de edad, el equipo, todo… No quiero que te lastimes.” (The age difference, the team, everything… I don’t want you to get hurt.)

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. We were so close now that I could feel the warmth radiating from her body, the scent of her perfume mixing with the cool night air. “¿Y si soy más fuerte de lo que piensas?” I challenged, my voice firm. (What if I’m stronger than you think?)

Jenni looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the internal struggle playing out in her mind. Her eyes searched mine, as if trying to gauge my sincerity, my determination.

She pulled me closer, one arm sliding around my waist, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against my skin.

Her other hand found my cheek, and I leaned into her touch, feeling the heat between us intensify with every second.

Finally, she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Eres fuerte, Y/N. Lo sé. Pero a veces… la vida es complicada.” (You are strong, Y/N. I know that. But sometimes… life is complicated.)

I reached out, gently touching her arm again. This time, I let my fingers trace the outline of one of her tattoos, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips. “Lo sé. Pero vale la pena intentarlo, ¿no crees?” (I know. But it’s worth trying, don’t you think?)

She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the walls slowly starting to crumble. “Tal vez,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. (Maybe.)

——

After that night, things between us began to change, but it was a slow process. Jenni was still hesitant, always careful not to get too close, even as the chemistry between us became undeniable.

She was strong and confident in so many ways, but when it came to us, she was always holding back.

It frustrated me. I wanted more—more of her, more of whatever this was. I wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she let her guard down around.

But I knew I had to be patient. Jenni wasn’t someone who would rush into anything, and if I pushed too hard, I risked losing her altogether.

We continued to see each other, going on dates that were always framed as “just friends” even though we both knew they were anything but.

Each time, Jenni seemed to relax a little more, but there was always that undercurrent of fear, that hesitation that held her back.

One evening, after a particularly good game, we found ourselves alone in the locker room. The team had gone out to celebrate, but Jenni and I had stayed behind, both too exhausted to do anything but sit in silence.

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant sounds of celebration echoing from outside.

As I sat beside her, I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, I broke the silence.

“Jenni, ¿por qué sigues dudando?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and gently placed my hand over hers. (Jenni, why do you keep hesitating?)

Her skin was cool to the touch, and the simple connection sent a rush of warmth through me. “¿Es por la edad? ¿O por lo que los demás puedan pensar?” (Is it because of the age difference? Or because of what others might think?)

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stared down at our hands, her thumb tracing small, absent-minded circles on the back of my hand.

Her expression was conflicted, a mixture of longing and fear. I could see the war waging inside her, the push and pull of desire and caution.

“Es complicado,” she finally whispered, her voice thick with emotion. (It’s complicated.)

I squeezed her hand gently, encouraging her to continue. “¿Qué es lo que te preocupa tanto?” I asked, my heart aching for her. (What are you so worried about?)

She sighed, leaning back against the cold metal of the locker behind her. For a moment, she closed her eyes, as if trying to gather her thoughts.

When she opened them again, they were filled with uncertainty. “Y/N, tú eres joven, y tienes toda una carrera por delante. No quiero ser la razón por la que las cosas se compliquen para ti. La prensa, los fanáticos, incluso el equipo… todos tendrán algo que decir si se enteran de esto.” (Y/N, you’re young, and you have your whole career ahead of you. I don’t want to be the reason things get complicated for you. The media, the fans, even the team… everyone will have something to say if they find out about this.)

I could see the pain in her eyes, the fear of what others might think, how they might judge us. It was a valid concern.

The football world wasn’t always kind to relationships that didn’t fit the mold, and with an age gap like ours, we’d be under even more scrutiny. But I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was her.

“Jenni,” I said firmly, shifting closer so that our knees touched. I tilted her chin up so that she was forced to look at me, to see the sincerity in my eyes. “Lo único que me importa eres tú. No me importa lo que la gente diga o piense. Si tú también lo sientes… si tú quieres esto, entonces eso es todo lo que importa.” (Jenni, the only thing that matters to me is you. I don’t care what people say or think. If you feel the same… if you want this, then that’s all that matters.)

She stared at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable. I could see the wheels turning in her head, the way she was processing my words, weighing the risks against her desires.

Then, slowly, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine. Her breath was warm against my skin, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, in that quiet, dimly lit locker room, caught in the tension between hesitation and passion.

“I do want this,” she admitted in english, her voice trembling with emotion. “Pero tengo miedo. Miedo de lo que vendrá después, miedo de que nos hagan daño a los dos. Y también… tengo miedo de que esto no dure. Que en algún momento te des cuenta de que mereces algo mejor, alguien que no esté… atrapado en sus propios miedos.” (But I’m afraid. Afraid of what will come after, afraid that we’ll both get hurt. And also… I’m afraid that this won’t last. That at some point, you’ll realize you deserve something better, someone who isn’t… trapped in their own fears.)

Her words broke my heart. I could hear the doubt in her voice, the fear of being left behind, of not being enough. But to me, Jenni was more than enough.And I wanted her to know that.

“Jenni, mírame,” I said softly, cupping her face in my hands. Her eyes fluttered open, and I could see the unshed tears glistening in her lashes. “No voy a ir a ninguna parte. Estoy aquí, contigo, porque te quiero. Y eso no va a cambiar.” (Jenni, look at me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, with you, because I want you. And that’s not going to change.)

She paused, blinking as she processed what I had just said. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in and softly pressed her lips to mine.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft brush of lips that sent a wave of warmth through my entire body.

But as the seconds ticked by, it deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. It was as if all the pent-up emotions we had been holding back were finally spilling over, and neither of us could stop it.

Jenni’s hands found their way to my waist, and pulled me into her lap,her hands dangerously close to my butt.

I could feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest, the way her fingers dug into my sides as if she was afraid to let go. I responded in kind, my hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, needing to feel her, to know that she was real.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads pressed together as we tried to catch our breath.

Jenni’s eyes were bright, her lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. She looked at me with a mixture of awe and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

“Y/N,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. “¿Estás segura de esto?” (Are you sure about this?)

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Nunca he estado más segura de nada en mi vida,” I replied, my voice steady. (I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.)

She let out a shaky laugh, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Creo que me estás volviendo loca,” she murmured, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice. (I think you’re driving me crazy.)

“Eso es lo que hago mejor,” I teased, pressing another kiss to her lips, this one softer, more tender. (That’s what I do best.)

For a moment, we stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, letting the world outside fade away.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just us, and the connection that had finally broken through the walls Jenni had so carefully built around herself.

——

Over the next few weeks, things between us intensified. The stolen glances during training sessions, the secret touches when no one was looking, the late-night texts that turned into whispered phone calls… it was like we were living in our own little bubble, and I reveled in every moment of it.

But as much as I loved the thrill of our secret romance, I knew that Jenni was still struggling.

She was careful—too careful. Whenever we were around the team, she would put up her walls again, acting as if nothing had changed between us. It was frustrating, but I understood. The age gap, the scrutiny… it weighed heavily on her.

One night, after a particularly grueling match, we found ourselves in my apartment. The team had won, and everyone was in high spirits, but Jenni had been quiet the entire evening.

I could tell something was bothering her, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

As we sat on the couch, the city lights of Monterrey twinkling outside the window, I turned to her. “Jenni, ¿qué pasa? Has estado distante toda la noche.” (Jenni, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all night.)

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Es solo… todo esto. Nosotros. A veces me siento abrumada, y no sé si estoy haciendo lo correcto.” (It’s just… all of this. Us. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed, and I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.)

I frowned, my heart sinking. “¿Qué quieres decir?” (What do you mean?)

She looked at me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “Quiero estar contigo, Y/N, de verdad. Pero tengo miedo de lo que pueda pasar si esto se vuelve público. La prensa, el equipo, mi familia… ¿y si no lo entienden? ¿Y si esto nos hace daño a los dos?” (I want to be with you, Y/N, I really do. But I’m afraid of what might happen if this becomes public. The media, the team, my family… what if they don’t understand? What if this hurts both of us?)

I could see the fear in her eyes, the way she was bracing herself for the worst. But I wasn’t going to let her face this alone.

“Jenni,” I said softly, reaching out to take her hand. I squeezed it gently, trying to reassure her. “Entiendo tus preocupaciones, y sé que no va a ser fácil. Pero no estoy dispuesta a perderte por miedo a lo que los demás piensen. Si esto es real para ti, como lo es para mí, entonces vale la pena luchar por ello.” (Jenni, I understand your concerns, and I know it won’t be easy. But I’m not willing to lose you because of fear of what others think. If this is real for you, like it is for me, then it’s worth fighting for.)

She stared at me for moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and longing. I could see the internal battle she was fighting, torn between the desire to protect herself—and me—from the potential fallout, and the undeniable connection we shared.

It was as if she was standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to take the leap or retreat to safety.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jenni let out a shaky breath and nodded, her fingers tightening around mine. “Tienes razón,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Vale la pena luchar por esto. No quiero vivir con miedo, y no quiero perder lo que tenemos.” (You’re right. This is worth fighting for. I don’t want to live in fear, and I don’t want to lose what we have.)

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming, and before I knew it, I was pulling her into my arms, holding her tightly as if I was afraid she might slip away.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck,and she kissed the crown of my head as she clung to me just as desperately.

In that moment, it felt like we had crossed a threshold—no more hiding, no more holding back. We were in this together, for better or for worse.

As we held each other, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks slowly began to dissipate.

Jenni’s body relaxed against mine, and I could feel her heartbeat gradually steadying, syncing with my own. I whispered, “Vamos a estar bien, Jenni. Lo haremos juntos, y todo estará bien.” (We’re going to be okay, Jenni. We’ll do this together, and everything will be okay.)

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at me, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

I could see the vulnerability in her gaze, the lingering doubts that still lingered, but there was also a new resolve, a determination that hadn’t been there before.

“¿Prometes?” she asked, her voice small and tentative. (Do you promise?)

I cupped her face in my hands, brushing my thumbs gently across her cheeks as I looked deep into her eyes. “Lo prometo,” I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for doubt. (I promise.)

Jenni’s lips curved into a small, tentative smile, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

She leaned in slowly, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken promises and unexpressed emotions that had been building between us for so long, a kiss that spoke of new beginnings and the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As our lips moved together, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just us, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the warmth and comfort of our connection.

My hands slipped from her face to around her shoulders , pulling her closer until there was no space left between us.

Jenni responded in kind, her arms around my waist, squeezing lightly as she deepened the kiss, her movements more confident, more certain.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting together as we caught our breath.

Jenni’s eyes were shining, her lips slightly swollen from the intensity of our kiss. She looked at me with a mixture of love and determination, as if she had finally made peace with the decision we had both made.

“Te quiero, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Y voy a luchar por esto, por nosotros.” (I want you, Y/N. And I’m going to fight for this, for us.)

Hearing those words from her made my heart swell with happiness, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. “Yo también te quiero, Jenni,” I replied softly, my voice filled with all the love I felt for her. “Y voy a estar a tu lado, pase lo que pase.” (I want you too, Jenni. And I’m going to be by your side, no matter what.)

——

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. With the decision to embrace our relationship came the inevitable challenges.

We knew that going public would bring scrutiny from all angles—our teammates, the media, and even our families. But now, for the first time, we were ready to face it together.

Jenni was still cautious, but she was no longer holding back. We started small, taking baby steps towards revealing our relationship to the world.

First, it was just small gestures—holding hands when we were out alone, stolen kisses in quiet corners of the training facility, and whispered words of love when no one was around.

It was a delicate dance, balancing our desire to be open with the need for privacy, but we were determined to find that balance.

One evening, we had finished certain activities and were lying naked in bed, I was on top of her. Her hands gently traveled up and down my back, occasionally drifting to give my butt a light squeeze that made me giggle. Each time, she would tenderly kiss my forehead.

Her skin was warm and soft under my touch, and I reveled in the intimacy of the moment. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt perfect, when the world outside our little bubble didn’t matter.

Jenni gazed at me with a gentle smile, her eyes brimming with affection as one of her hands tenderly brushed through my hair.“¿Qué estás pensando?” she asked quietly, her voice hushed in the dim light of the room. (What are you thinking?)

I smiled, my fingers continuing their lazy exploration of her skin. “Estoy pensando en lo afortunada que soy de tenerte aquí, conmigo,” I replied honestly, my heart swelling with love for her. (I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have you here, with me.)

Jenni’s smile widened, and she leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Yo soy la afortunada,” she murmured against my mouth, her voice filled with sincerity. (I’m the lucky one.)

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, our kisses slow and languid, savoring the closeness we had found.

There was a tenderness in the way Jenni held me, her hands tracing gentle patterns on my back as if she couldn’t get enough of the contact.

I could feel the love radiating from her, the way she cherished every moment we spent together.

But even in those quiet moments, the reality of our situation was never far from our minds.

The age gap, the potential backlash from the media, and the reactions of our teammates and families loomed over us like a shadow. We knew that coming out publicly would be a risk, one that could change everything.

——

As we lay in bed after a particularly long day, Jenni voiced the concerns that had been weighing on her mind. “¿Crees que el equipo lo aceptará?” she asked quietly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on my arm. (Do you think the team will accept it?)

I turned to face her, my eyes searching hers in the dim light. “No lo sé,” I admitted honestly. “Pero no creo que debamos escondernos. Si somos felices, eso es lo que debería importar, ¿no?” (I don’t know. But I don’t think we should hide. If we’re happy, that’s what should matter, right?)

Jenni nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Tienes razón,” she said softly, her voice tinged with determination. “No quiero seguir escondiéndome. Si vamos a hacer esto, lo haremos juntos, sin miedo.” (You’re right. I don’t want to keep hiding. If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it together, without fear.)

Her words filled me with a renewed sense of hope, and I couldn’t help but smile as I leaned in to kiss her. “Juntas,” I whispered against her lips, my heart swelling with love for her. (Together.)

——

When we finally decided to tell our teammates, it was nerve-wracking. Jenni and I had been preparing for this moment for weeks, discussing how we would approach the conversation and anticipating their reactions.

We knew that some would be supportive, while others might be more hesitant, but we were ready to face it head-on.

One afternoon, after training, we gathered the team together in the locker room. The atmosphere was light, filled with the usual banter and laughter that came after a hard day’s work, but I could sense the tension in Jenni as she stood beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly.

“Chicas,” Jenni began, her voice steady but filled with emotion. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at us, curiosity and concern etched on their faces. “Hay algo que Y/N y yo queremos compartir con ustedes.” (Girls, there’s something Y/N and I want to share with you.)

I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on us, but I squeezed Jenni’s hand, offering her silent support. She took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over our teammates before she continued.

“Y/N y yo… estamos juntas,” she said, her voice firm. (Y/N and I… we’re together.)

There was a brief pause, a moment of silence as everyone processed her words. Then, slowly, the reactions began to trickle in.

Some of the girls smiled, offering words of congratulations and support, while others looked more uncertain, their expressions unreadable.

But overall, the response was positive, and I could see the relief on Jenni’s face as the tension began to dissipate.

One of our teammates, who had always been close to both of us, stepped forward with a grin. “Bueno, ya era tiempo,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. “Pensé que iban a mantenerlo en secreto para siempre.” (Well, it was about time. I thought you were going to keep it a secret forever.)

Laughter rippled through the room, and I felt Jenni relax beside me, her grip on my hand loosening as the tension melted away. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No era nuestra intención, pero necesitábamos estar seguras de que estábamos listas,” she admitted, her voice lighter now. (It wasn’t our intention, but we needed to be sure we were ready.)

Another teammate stepped forward, her expression a mix of warmth and understanding. “Lo importante es que se tienen el uno al otro,” she said gently, her words resonating with sincerity. “Si son felices juntas, entonces eso es lo que importa. Y estamos aquí para apoyarlas.” (The important thing is that you have each other. If you’re happy together, then that’s what matters. And we’re here to support you.)

Jenni’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she nodded, her voice thick with emotion when she replied. “Gracias, chicas. Eso significa mucho para nosotras.” (Thank you, girls. That means a lot to us.)

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for our teammates. Despite the uncertainty and fear we had faced leading up to this moment, they had embraced us with open arms. It wasn’t just about acceptance—it was about being surrounded by people who genuinely cared for us, who wanted to see us happy.

As the conversation shifted back to more casual topics, I leaned in closer to Jenni, my hand still wrapped around hers.

She looked at me with a soft smile, the weight that had been pressing on her shoulders for so long finally lifting. I could see the relief in her eyes, the joy of finally being able to live openly and freely, without fear or hesitation.

“¿Te sientes mejor?” I asked softly, my thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. (Do you feel better?)

Jenni nodded, her smile widening as she leaned in to press a kiss to my forehead. “Mucho mejor,Hermosa” she murmured, her voice filled with affection. (Much better, beautiful)

——

The next hurdle we faced was dealing with the media, and we both knew it would be an entirely different challenge—a beast of its own. We were prepared, but not fully ready for what was to come.

It started with the fans. They began noticing subtle things, like the way we exchanged gentle touches or the lingering hugs on the field.

They picked up on how we always seemed to be together, spending every moment in each other’s company, and didn’t hesitate to share it on social media. Our connection was obvious to anyone paying attention.

We weren’t trying to hide anything. We were simply living our lives authentically, sharing pieces of it as any couple would.

But as our relationship became more visible, people started speculating. And with that speculation came criticism and hate, much of which revolved around the age gap between us.

People began to make unfair assumptions, calling Jenni weird or saying she was using me to relive her younger years. They’d throw out all kinds of accusations, but I didn’t let it get to me. These people weren’t part of our world—they didn’t see what I saw in Jenni, and they certainly didn’t understand the depth of our relationship.

Jenni didn’t let it affect her either. She was confident in us, in our bond, and in what we had built together. Her unwavering belief in our relationship made it easier for us to ignore the noise. We knew who we were to each other, and that’s what mattered most.

That’s why, despite the negativity, we decided to share a small glimpse of our relationship with the world. It wasn’t about proving anything to anyone; it was about celebrating the love and connection we had, regardless of what others thought.

The picture we had chosen was a candid shot of the two of us, taken by a teammate during one of our quieter moments.

We were sitting on a bench at the training ground, our heads close together, smiles on our faces as we looked at each other. It was a picture that radiated warmth and love, capturing the bond that had grown between us over time.

The caption was straightforward, no frills, no drama:

“Mi amor. ❤️”

Within minutes, the notifications started flooding in. Comments, likes, shares—it was overwhelming. Some were supportive, some were curious, and of course, there were those who were less than kind.

But through it all, Jenni and I held on to each other, refusing to let the negativity drown out the joy of finally being free to live our truth.

That night, as we lay in bed, the glow of our phones casting a soft light in the dark room, Jenni turned to me with a smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Lo hicimos,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. (We did it.)

I nodded, leaning in to kiss her softly. “Sí, lo hicimos,” I replied, my voice equally soft. “Y ahora, no hay vuelta atrás.” (Yes, we did. And now, there’s no turning back.)

Jenni’s eyes sparkled with a newfound sense of freedom as she pulled me closer, our bodies fitting together perfectly under the covers. “No quiero volver atrás,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was filled with promise. (I don’t want to go back.)

We spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, our kisses slow and unhurried, our touches gentle and loving.

There was a sense of peace that had settled over us, a quiet understanding that no matter what the future held, we would face it together.

As I traced the lines of Jenni’s tattoos, my fingers gliding over the inked patterns on her skin, I couldn’t help but marvel at how far we had come.

The fears and doubts that had once seemed so insurmountable now felt like distant memories, overshadowed by the strength of our love.

“Te amo, Jenni,” I whispered against her lips, my voice filled with all the emotions I felt for her. (I love you, Jenni.)

“Y yo te amo a ti, Y/N,” she replied softly, her voice trembling with emotion as she pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. (And I love you, Y/N.)

We fell asleep that night wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside our little bubble fading away as we held on to the love that had brought us together. There would be challenges ahead—there always were—but for now, in this moment, we were content.

And that was enough.

FIN

[daydreamingleclerc]

gorgeous; lewis hamilton

y/n's boyfriend is arguably one of the worst men on the planet, so, she decides to hook up with a pretty boy she meets in a club.

includes; smut, oral (m, f), fingering, degradation, teasing, spanking, hair pulling, face fucking, sir!kink, dom!lewis, sub!reader, infidelity, unprotected sex, squirting. this hasn't been proofread.

this is part of my taylor swift masterlist which you can find here. thank you to @sainzcaleruega and @landopeaches for always hyping up my writing even when i think it sucks <33

he was arguably one of the most attractive people she'd ever seen. that was a fact. his skin glowed under the harsh lighting, somehow making him look ethereal in a sea of sweaty, aggressively lit men and women, and whenever he looked over in her direction her skin buzzed with a sense of anticipation she didn't find anywhere else. a sense of excitement she hadn't felt for what felt like a lifetime.

as stubborn as he was in these situations, he had to admit - she too, was one of the prettiest women he'd ever laid eyes upon. the way she looked so effortlessly, shamelessly gorgeous in a room full of women who'd tried a little too hard to impress drew him to her like a moth to a flame. she didn't have to try, not for him, anyway.

"can i buy you a drink?"

the line was cheesy, and half-expected when she waltzed up to the bar. he watched her every move, as she weaved her way in and out of the crowd with ease, as if it was a habit. her lips curled up into a half smile and she pondered on the origin of his accent.

"i've got a boyfriend," her eyes raked across the selection of flavoured liquor standing on the shelf, and she waited for his reaction to come. he waivered, only slightly. "but if you want to take me home with you i suggest you try a lot harder than buying me a drink."

the man smirked and stood in closer, only by a few millimeters. his hand draped over the small of her back, and in that moment she noticed his scent. he smelled divine, the scent of richness and old money that she'd scoured so hard to find; he smelt like a man who was familiar with the ins and outs of what he was doing and that was almost enough for her to cave.

"what are you drinking?" he questioned. his voice was soft yet firm, and even under the boom of heavy music, she could hear him crystal clear.

"surely you should be able to tell," she glanced over at him for the first time since he struck up a conversation, but soon faced the liquors again, "a man with your intelligence, expertise. you know what a woman wants, so figure it out."

he admired her nonchalant nature, and so he went ahead and ordered for her, "a whiskey on ice and a tequila sunrise," his eyes flickered over to her as he spoke and immediately flickered back to the barman.

"anything else?"

"two orgasms," the barman almost walked away until she spoke, he nodded, and she glanced over at the pretty man beside her, "i'd ask for a couple more, but that's just being selfish."

he leaned in closer again, his fingers brushing her hipbones and marking his territory to those around him. "it's rude to have no manners," his finger's ran up the side of her dress, feeling out the zip just underneath the armpit so he could toggle on it later, "but then again, you'll be using them later."

"you seem oddly confident," she rose to his game fiercely and feistily, her eyes still avoiding him, "it's almost a pity."

her cockiness was arousing to him. he loved it when women fell at his feet, but this game was so much more entertaining for him to play. he couldn't help but hide a smirk. "we'll see who's going to be pitied when you're desperate enough to beg."

the drinks were brought to the pair of them quickly, and he watched as she knocked back both orgasms without a singular hitch in her face - oh, if only she knew how the orgasms he provided would leave her reeling.

"aren't you going to ask me about my boyfriend, about why i'm here in a crowded club all alone?"

it was clear to him she'd played this game multiple times before, but now she'd just confirmed it. "no," he simply smiled, and when she startled, his face grew wider, "judging by the fact you're out, talking to me, allowing me to buy you drinks, means you don't want to talk about him," his finger circled the rim of his whiskey glass, "but it also tells me you've come here to do this before, time and time again, desperate for somebody to show you a good time. am i right?"

her mouth suddenly went dry.

she sucked the cocktail through the small straw, and he waited patiently for her response.

"you could say that's correct," it pissed her off to admit he was right; she didn't like doing that, "do you think you're up to the task?" her eyes looked right into his, and for the first time that night, she allowed herself to get lost in them, "because i don't think you've got what it takes."

their lips were so close in that moment, she could feel his breath fanning at her skin and it ignited a fire inside of her stomach. the tension could be sliced with a knife, and when he placed his finger on her lips to halt her movements, it drove her crazy.

"you couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart."

"prove it to me, then."

her lips puckered slightly so she could kiss the pad of his finger, but in his haste he allowed himself to divulge in the taste of her tongue. sparks flew inside of her stomach at the prospect of what was inevitably going to happen, and when his tongue slid along her bottom lip, she fought it. Y/N wasn't one for giving in that easily.

"i don't even know your name," the man muttered against her lips, pulling away for a short breath of air in the midst of all his hormones, "and i'd, at the very least, like to tell you mine so you know what name to type into your phone next time you go looking for a man to make you feel good."

"you're so cocky," she hummed, pulling away from him snappishly to fumble on the counter for her drink. she admired the lipstick stain smeared across his chin. "it's almost humbling."

"you're so eager," he retorted, allowing himself a moment of composure. her body language was buzzing, and her eagerness to allow him to have his way with her was radiating off of her skin and bouncing among the pair of them like energy. "you might as well just bend over and let me fuck you in here."

he watched as the glimmer in her eyes shone, and cottoned onto the notion that she loved the thought of that. she knew that he could sense it, too, and she cursed herself for allowing her eyes to be so distinctively emotional.

"your eyes say everything you don't, darling," he paused and leaned closer, and when she went in for another kiss, he laughed. "see, i'm already starting to pity you."

he watched as she knocked back her drink, and as much as he wanted to tease her some more and hang back in the club for an hour or so, this was his forte.

"i hope your boyfriends not expecting you back anytime soon," he grabbed at her hand as he pulled her through the crowd, the manner brash and needy, nothing like the way she waltzed through it last time. "my name's lewis, by the way. you're gonna need to remember that."

/

his hotel room wasn't that far of a journey, and Y/N thanked her lucky stars when her initial thoughts were right - he was rich, and she was going to make sure to be calling him again.

"you still haven't told me your name," he said, handing her a small glass filled with tequila soda.

she took a sip, "is that a bad thing?"

"i'd at least like to know your name before i fuck you, yeah," he took a sip of his and perched on the edge of the armchair opposite her. her legs looked deliciously long and slender from this angle, and the light bounced off of them and caused a sleek shine. "is that a bad thing?"

"i suppose not," she hummed, and leaned forward to place her drink on the table. her cleavage squeezed between her arms as she moved and lewis struggled to keep himself composed. "Y/N."

Y/N.

he felt at peace knowing he had a name to put to the face, and it was just as beautiful as he imagined. she leaned back in her chair and her eyes gazed over him, and he was in awe of how she did everything so effortlessly. he leaned over the coffee table and hovered over her, his hands resting on the arm of her chair.

now that they could see one another clearer, and the atmosphere was less intrusive, there was a self consciousness surrounding them, as if they didn't want to get it wrong or overstep their mark; even though they both knew what they were here to do.

when lewis leaned down to kiss her, she melted into him almost immediately, and any traces of the feisty, fiery lady she once was at the bar had subsided. she was his, ultimately and indefinitely his, for this night.

lewis' hands trailed down her arms and along the stitching of the dress in an attempt to find the zipper from earlier. "may i...?" he asked, although when she'd started to nod, he was already pulling it down.

the dress completely unzipped and when lewis sunk to his knees and helped her to shimmy out of it, she didn't stop him. his lips caressed her thighs, kissing at the hot, slightly sweaty skin just to tease her as his thumbs and forefingers massaged at her calves.

her impatience had begun to seep through and it was clear to him she was beginning to become desperate when he noticed the material of her lace underwear changing colour due to the damp patch. he couldn't help but smirk.

his lips trailed across her pubic bone, that was partially hidden by the flimsy excuse for underwear, and as he kissed along the hot skin, she jolted and shimmied in anticipation.

"waiting for something?"

Y/N bucked her hips, but lewis' hands flew to her thighs and stopped her before she could gain any friction from the contact. "i said," he repeated, "are you waiting for something?"

she grumbled, "if you're not gonna fucking do it, then i'll find someone else who will."

lewis' eyes darkened, and she soon realised she was probably going to regret saying those words. he yanked at the material of her underwear and pulled it off in one swift motion, tossing it over his shoulder. "legs up," he motioned for her to swing her legs onto the arms of the chair, and she obliged, swinging them up onto the arms despite the ache it brought to her thighs. "good girl, you do know how to listen."

he savored the moment, allowing his fingers to slide within her folds and touch her delicately, swirling the pad of his middle finger around her clit and pressing softly into her opening. she was mewling, soft little whimpers and hardly-there noise that screamed out so much.

lewis' tongue swirled around her clit and immediately her hands flew to his dreadlocks. his hands splayed across her thighs as he worked his tongue around her, his facial hair only adding to her sensations.

"you taste so fucking good," he pulled away for a minute, and she looked up to watch him conjuring up spit. "i could stay here all fucking night."

she moaned, tipping her head back and getting lost in the feeling of him. she'd never experienced head like this before, and she couldn't quite contain herself. his hands moved from her thighs down to her bum, where one massaged the flesh and the other trailed up to where she needed attention the most.

"are you sure you can handle this? hm?" he cooed, pulling his lips away from her clit and causing her to cry out, "i don't know if you're ready."

"i am," she pouted, "please, lewis."

he smirked, and with that he pressed two fingers inside of her, and immediately she began to clench. "see, i told you i'd have you begging."

his fingers inside of her felt surreal, the way they hit every ridge and curve so well and slid through her wetness. she was dripping down his hand, she knew it, and she showed no shame. his fingertips curled and when they tickled her g-spot she flinched, her legs shooting outwards with a mind of their own.

"god, fucking hell if you keep on doing that i'm gonna cum."

lewis kissed at the inside of her thigh as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, "what did i tell you earlier about your manners, darling? they really are atrocious."

"i-i'm sorry," she mumbled, "please can i...?"

"please can you what, Y/N?"

she frowned for a second but she was whipped into shape quickly when he slapped her thigh. "please can i cum?"

"see," lewis kissed her clit and made her jolt, "that really wasn't so hard, was it baby?"

she shook her head, and when lewis' movements sped up, she saw it as her sign to cum. her legs trembled and her back arched off of the armchair, and she came hard and fast all over his fingers. he looked up at her with hooded eyes as she came down from her orgasm, her arms were over her head tugging at the armchair cushion and her back was still arched. she looked fucked out already, and her heavy breathing made him hard as a rock.

he knew he needed her now, no more waiting. he had to be inside of her, he wanted to make everyone in the rooms surrounding him know he could pleasure a woman right.

she felt a buzz in her stomach at the manhandling. lewis had picked her up from her state on the armchair and pushed her onto all fours on the adjoining sofa.

"do you still believe that i don't have what it takes, sweetheart?"

she turned her face round to look at him, and when he pulled his shirt off to reveal a body full of tattoos, she almost died on the spot. he knew she was checking him out, and he couldn't help but flex a little as he weaved his belt out of his trousers, and when she shook her head with a smirk on her face, she knew she was in trouble.

"well i think you're a fucking liar." he grabbed at her neck and squeezed the flesh softly until she made an audible choking sound, and then he released her. she continued to admire him through hazy eyes, and when he stood completely naked behind her she almost felt her knees give way.

he lined himself up with her and pushed in all the way, leaving her almost screaming at the fullness. he left her no time to properly adjust to his size before he pulled out and slid back inside her again with ease.

"oh, fuck, lewis," she cried out, her head throwing back. he grabbed ahold of her hips and squeezed at the flesh of her bum, slapping and kneading it between his hands. "you're so fucking big."

he left a slap to her bum once more. he enjoyed the ego boost.

"so fucking tight," he grunted as he continued to thrust, each time getting deeper and deeper, "your boyfriend really doesn't fuck you right, does he baby? hm?"

"no," she whined, a yelp of pain drawn from her lips when he wrapped his hand around her hair and used it as leverage, too. "only you, lewis."

he slapped her bum again. "that's the right fucking answer, only i can fuck you this good," his hips were slamming against her bum now, and lewis watched the constant loop of recoils that took place in front of him. "isn't that right, baby? hm? you're never gonna go to anybody else, that pussy's all mine, isn't it?"

"n-no, sir," she choked out, and lewis audibly growled, "nobody else. yours."

he laughed at her garbled nonsense. "good girl, you sound so pretty now that there's not a thought left in that pretty little head."

Y/N knew she wasn't going to last much longer, and lewis could tell because of the wet sounds her pussy was making as he fucked her, and the way she clenched him like a vice every time he pulled back out.

"gonna cum for me, Y/N?" he left a slap to her bum and pulled her right up against his chest by her hair, until he managed to wrap an arm around her torso and lock her in with his strength. her arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged at his dreads. "come on, baby. i know you can."

his free hand reached around and strummed at her clit, leaving her no wiggling room. the overstimulation became too much, and as lewis' lips bit down on her earlobe, she squirted all around him, her pussy clenching and convulsing uncontrollably as she screamed and rode out her high.

it took everything in lewis not to cum inside of her then and there, but he knew he needed restraint. he needed to be careful.

he pulled out of her and she fell limp, but lewis manhandled her once again, "don't think you're finished yet, baby," he pushed the strands of sweaty hair from her face over to the side of her neck, "i wanna see my dick in your pretty mouth first."

she hummed, and took as much of him in her mouth as she could, and lewis couldn't help but thrust his hips. the contractions of her throat gagging around him made his groan, and he had to suck in deep breaths every time he pushed back into her mouth.

spit trickled down Y/N's chin and pooled at her knees on the floor as she sucked at him sloppily. the movements of her tongue combined with his thrusts down her throat meant he wasn't going to last long.

"hold still," lewis said, bunching her hair up into a ponytail with his hand and fucking her face, the noises falling from her mouth at the sensation enough to make him groan. "fu-uck, that's it. good girl."

one hand fell to her cheek and she looked up at him as his dick slipped in and out of her mouth, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. he pressed the base of his dick flush against her tongue, and admired her pretty face as beads of cum landed on her tongue, nose and cheeks.

she gathered it all up on her tongue and he watched as she let it drool from the tip and trickle down onto her chest, merging with her spit and sweat. he'd never been more ready for another round in his life.

Y/N sat back on her heels and when lewis held out a hand for her to get up, her legs wobbled and she had to wait several moments before they regained usage.

"thank you," she smiled, wiping her chin, "i've not had sex that good in a long time."

"ditto," lewis smiled. the pair of them sat back on the sofa in silence, enjoying the company of the other person. "if you want to stay, you can."

"thank you," she smiled again, a sincere, almost apologetic smile. "i'd love that, but i think i need to shower before i make my mind up."

he nodded, and rose to his feet with an outstretched arm, "come with me, i'll help you clean yourself up."

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations-07

Libra Venuses tend to stay in relationships that they aren’t happy in if it looks good to the outside world

Gemini moons gossip ALOT. They usually don’t mean harm by its just second nature for them because it’s hard for them to keep things in

Sagittarius suns tend to act like they are better than others (even if they are)

I notice common birthdates for famous ppl are the 15th, 11th, 3rd, 6th, 24th and 23rd

All libra risings have amazing hair, they don’t get enough credit for. It’s an effortlessly perfect look

Gemini/Aqua Venuses are usually androgynous

Taurus risings are what you’d expect aqua risings to look like. I lot of them have multicolored hair or have a more alternative style/aesthetic

Mars in Pisces men never usually make the first move whether it be when asking someone out, talking to them or sex. They find it a lot easier when the other person takes initiative

A lot of cancer moons have bad social anxiety. I’ve seen a lot rarely ever leave their home

I think Gemini suns are way more freaky than Scorpio suns

Gemini placements are either really bad at social cues or amazing conversationalists

Taurus placements tend to hog down their food like a vacuum lmao especially the (sun and mars) they can devour their plate in seconds.

Libra suns and Pisces suns are a really good match and no one ever talks about it

Having a fire grand trine is the luckiest of all the trines. Less likely to be lazy with talents because of the high motivation and optimism the fire element gives

The biggest liar I ever mets big three was a Leo rising, Libra sun and a Pisces moon

Scorpio Venus men love mysterious complex women. Attracted to a woman with a very dark personality/aesthetic.

Aries moons can be very disrespectful and burn a lot of bridges because they didn’t get what they wanted

Pisces women with Aries placements enjoy going for men that are already taken🫠

Pisces moon men are the biggest SIMPS

Lilith in Pisces probably struggled with addiction at some point I’m their lives (drugs/alcohol)

Capricorn placements are hyper aware of their surroundings which is why they always look so put together. Their image means a lot to them because many have had trauma with being embarrassed for the way they presented themselves causing them to be super aware of how they come off which is why they can come off grumpy or uptight, this is especially true with the (rising and moon)

Mutable sun men usually have commitment issues

Scorpio mars women do not take it well when they are broken up with😭 the types to get very vengeful and petty to get your attention back on them. I had one go so far to say I’ll kill myself if you leave (my ex) can be very emotionally manipulative when they feel they are losing someone. Big control issues.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

fruit stand

words: 1.2k

warnings: none, just very cute rafey <3

“rafe.”

“what is it rose?” he asks, looking up from his phone.

“i need you to pick up some fruit at the stand down the street. i need two watermelons.”

rafe rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to tell her to do it herself. there is some big dinner party tonight, and ward and rose have been overly stressed about it to the point it’s driving him crazy.

“alright, i’ll go now.” rafe stands up with a stretch, considering bringing wheezie long for a moment, but when he peeks in her room, he sees her nose deep in a book and decides to leave her alone.

rafe shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks down the street. he’s seen it briefly when driving by, the small fruit stand positioned on the corner of his block. he would think that the other people in the community wouldn’t want someone selling there, but he guesses that having easy access to fresh fruit makes up for it.

“hello there!” your voice brings rafe out of his thoughts.

he can’t speak. you’re like a ray of sunlight, bright smile on your face, dressed in a warm yellow sundress and sandals, hair down and slightly curly. you look effortlessly beautiful, and rafe has never felt this way just looking at a woman before.

“what can i get for you today?” you ask, gesturing to the fruit in front of you.

“i-” rafe clears his throat. “just two watermelons.”

“great! we have two sizes, i’m guessing the bigger one because you want two?”

rafe has no idea what rose wants, but he nods quickly anyways. “yeah.”

“alright, great! that’ll be $16. if you have cash, you can drop it in that box, we don’t take card but i have venmo, cashapp, and paypal on that sign.”

rafe quickly scans the sign in his venmo app, sending you the money. you don’t even check that it’s gone through before you’re handing him the watermelon, each now netted in a red mesh to make it easier for him to carry.

“oh gosh, that’s heavy carrying both. do you want to use my cart to take it back home? you can drop it back off any time before 6 today.”

“no, i got it.” rafe doesn’t want you thinking he’s weak as he carries one watermelon in each hand, hoping that the workout he did earlier today means his muscles are on display.

“alright!” you say, flashing him another smile that makes his knees buckle. “have a great day!” “you-you too.” rafe walks away, replaying the entire interaction in his head and cursing himself. he’s never had a problem talking to women before, even ones he finds attractive like you.

he spends the rest of the evening, all throughout the dinner party thinking of you, and he swears the watermelon tastes sweeter than normal.

--

“hello again!” you smile at rafe, recognizing the handsome man who visited your fruit stand only a couple of days ago.

“hi.” rafe smiles back, eyes quickly flipping from your face to the fruit in front of you.

“what can i get you this time…” you trail off, hoping he will provide you with his name.

“rafe.”

you smile. you’ve never heard the name before, but it fits him perfectly. “rafe.” 

“just some strawberries.” rafe picks up the box. he doesn’t even particularly like strawberries, but he would use any excuse to come back to see you again. he hopes it’s not creepy, that you just see him as a returning customer, not one with an embarrassing crush on you.

“great! that’ll be $4.” 

rafe thought ahead and brought cash this time, stuffing a $10 bill into the cardboard box.

“do you want change?” you ask upon seeing that he paid double the price.

“no, it’s a tip.” rafe smiles, hoping it comes off as genuine. he easily forgets how much smaller amounts of money means to people who aren’t as fortunate as him.

“well thank you, rafe.” you say, “i’m y/n, by the way.” you reach across and shake his hand. rafe swears he feels a slight zap at your first time touching each other.

--

“i’m going to go pick up some lemons.” wheezie says as she walks through the living room.

“wait!” rafe says. “at the fruit stand down the street?”

“yeah.” wheezie rolls her eyes like it’s obvious.

“i’ll come with you.” rafe says, getting up and smoothing out any wrinkles on his shirt.

wheezie gives him a weird look. “why? i’m 13, i don’t need you to babysit me.”

“shut up, let’s go.” rafe says, butterflies building in his stomach at the thought of seeing you again. he tried his best to find you on instagram, but with no last name, he had no luck.

wheezie rolls her eyes but lets rafe walk with her. 

“hey rafe!” your voice has him seeing stars, giving you a little wave.

“this is my little sister, wheezie.” he introduces her.

“hello there, wheezie! what can i get you?” you ask as she scans the fruit, smiling when she lands on the yellow citrus. “just some lemons!” 

“making lemonade?” you guess, and wheezie nods as she inspects the fruit.

“hold on, i’ve got some bigger ones down here.” you kneel down under the fruit stand, searching for the lemons that you were saving, looking too good to just put out.

wheezie looks up to rafe with a smirk. “that’s why you wanted to come” at least she whispers it.

“shut up.” rafe whispers out as you pop back up, holding a bag of lemons. “perfect!” wheezie says, reaching across to take it. wheezie goes to get money out of her pocket but rafe stops her, not wanting you to think that he wouldn’t pay for his little sister. he quickly scans the sign and transfers you the money.

“thanks so much wheezie!” you say with a smile, before looking at rafe, and he swears a faint blush comes over your cheeks and your voice drops an octave as you say “thank you rafe.”

--

rafe heads back to the fruit stand around 6pm, hoping that was your closing time. he sees you starting to load up fruit into the back of a pick up truck for the night, and he hurries his step up.

“let me help you.” rafe says, and you startle at his unexpected appearance.

“oh, god, rafe, you scared me.” you press a hand to your chest.

“sorry.” rafe laughs gently, you’re surprised face was just as adorable as every other face he’s seen you make. “you can hand me that crate.” you say, and quickly fall into an easy rhythm, rafe handing things up to you while you stand in the truck bed, organizing them to get everything to fit. it halves the time it usually takes you to clean up.

“all done!” you say, accepting rafe’s hand down. you take the last couple things, like your open sign and money box, and throw them in the passenger seat.

“hey- um…” you come to stand back in front of rafe as he struggles to get his words out. “i was wondering if you wanted to go grab dinner? with me?”

you’re only slightly surprised by his question, rafe hasn’t exactly been hiding his attraction to you. “yeah, yes.” you nod. “that sounds great.”

rafe smiles and lets out a breath of relief.

[svltzmans]

closer - f.g.

warnings: 18+ smut, weed smoking, fiona and reader are both high but everything is 100000% consensual, they are also not in an established relationship, but they might be after this 🫢, i can't tell if this is bad or not :(

y/n stares intently as fiona lights a blunt, inhaling sharply and turning away to blow out the resulting smoke.

"want some?" fiona gestures to y/n, clearing her throat.

"i've never tried it. i kinda want to though," y/n responds tentatively, trying to gauge fiona's reaction.

y/n and fiona had been pretty close friends for a while, but y/n had never cared to try smoking, despite fiona's own interest in it.

"wait, this is your first time? am i about to take your weed virginity?" fiona laughs, inhaling more of the blunt.

"you'll have to teach me how, though," y/n laughs back, feeling clueless.

fiona inches closer to y/n, flicking her lighter.

she gingerly sets the blunt between y/n's lips, lighting it for her.

"now just take a deep breath in," fiona instructs, watching y/n's mouth closely.

y/n exhales and coughs, laughing at her own inexperience.

"there you go," fiona praises, sending a shiver down y/n's spine.

"so, what do we do now, truth or dare?" y/n jokes, feeling her body relax.

"yeah, that sounds mature," fiona teases.

"you go first. truth or dare?"

"truth, but this is dumb."

"have you ever had sex with a girl?"

fiona freezes momentarily. sexuality hadn't been a conversation between her and y/n before.

"uh, yeah," fiona mutters, eyes heavy as they analyze y/n's reaction.

"hmm. wouldn't have guessed," y/n laughs, feeling herself blush.

"what's that supposed to mean? have you?" fiona quips, laughing alongside y/n.

"of course i have, women are beautiful," y/n effortlessly responds, her nerves melting away.

"ain't that the truth."

fiona lights the blunt again, taking another sizeable hit.

"your turn. truth or dare, y/n?"

"truth."

"boring", fiona teases, earning a feigned look of disapproval from y/n.

when y/n makes eye contact with fiona, it feels like the world slows down. y/n isn't sure if it's the weed or her attraction to the woman in front of her.

"have you ever thought about having sex with me?"

fiona knows she's being bold, but she can't help herself. she wanted to know, the coil in her stomach growing at the thought of y/n seeing her in such a way.

y/n can't help but quietly laugh at the sudden twist in the conversation, but she knows she can't get out of answering the question.

"i don't know, maybe," y/n practically whispers, knowing that she had just practically admitted to her less-than-platonic thoughts about her friend.

the pair both giggle at y/n's response, unable to contain themselves. somehow, the situation didn't feel awkward.

"have you actually?" fiona questions after she manages to stop her laughter.

y/n simply nods, suddenly feeling her nerves twisting in her chest.

"'cause i think about eating you out all the time."

for a while, y/n just stares at fiona. she's awestruck by her confession, yet turned on by the thought of it.

"you in there, y/n?" fiona waves in front of y/n's face, trying to bring her out of her haze.

"can i kiss you?"

fiona doesn't even take the time to respond before pulling y/n in for a kiss.

she pulls y/n into her lap, intoxicated by the way her body feels in her hands.

y/n wraps her arms around fiona's neck, pulling her even closer.

fiona pulls away, throwing her head back to move her hair aside.

she gives y/n a gentle push, encouraging her to lay on her back.

"i'm gonna show you what i was thinking about. that okay?"

y/n frantically nods, anticipation building in every inch of her body.

fiona pulls y/n's pants down, discarding them across the room.

she can't help but stare at y/n's entire lower half, admiring how effortlessly beautiful she looked.

she rests on her stomach on the end of the bed, hovering over y/n's legs.

"you still okay?"

"never been better," y/n reassures, giving fiona the green light.

fiona plants a tentative kiss on y/n's thigh, earning a content hum.

she continues to pepper y/n's legs in kisses, making her way higher as she goes.

y/n felt like she must be in heaven.

admittedly, she had thought about this a lot.

"stop teasing me, fi," she mutters, feeling more desperate with every touch from fiona.

without a word, fiona kisses y/n's clit before moving her tongue, instantly making y/n's back arch.

"even sweeter than i thought you'd be," fiona coos, resting her hands on y/n's hips.

the speed of fiona's tongue makes y/n dizzy, a mix of the pleasure and her ongoing high bringing her to cloud nine.

she instinctively brings her hand to her mouth to keep quiet, which only gets harder with fiona's relentlessness.

fiona pulls away, staring into y/n's eyes.

"none of that. wanna hear how good this feels," she mutters against y/n before continuing as if she had never stopped.

y/n lets herself go then, letting moans and whines escape from her lips.

"so good, fi. feels so good," she manages to say, her hand laced in fiona's hair.

fiona feels like she might be enjoying herself even more than y/n is. she squeezes y/n's hips and pulls her even closer, although it doesn't feel close enough. fiona feels like she could never be too close to y/n, as if she was addicted to her.

"fiona, i'm- i think," y/n pauses, her speech being overtaken by an almost scream-like moan.

"there you go, pretty. let it all out," fiona coos, coaxing y/n through the intensity of her orgasm.

it takes y/n a minute to readjust, her breathing and heart finally slowing.

fiona pulls her into a hug, suddenly feeling softened by y/n's beauty.

"so, was it like you imagined?" y/n questions, unable to stop herself from giggling.

fiona laughs, breaking the embrace and looking at y/n.

"somehow even better."

a/n: this was a request but i can't find the ask now? either way thank you for the request :)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

can you give me a quick bio on ghost…his personality, how you view him canon and what not

Ghost headcanons

Ghost doesn't wear a mask in public. It's easier to maintain his anonymity that way because a skull mask/balaclava would only draw more attention. The only instances he might wear it in a public place would be if he's with people he doesn't wish to get linked to/associated with (like in the famous scene where he's at a bar with Laswell & co)

He doesn't have a home, not even a rental flat. He stays at the base, stays at motels, hotels, b&bs when he's in England. Partly because having anything stable in his life is dangerous, partly because his attachment issues are so severe that even owning a place will make him feel uncomfortable. Returning to the same, dusty place with only a tv and a fridge to keep him company is depressing.

He never visits Manchester. Too many sour memories and too many people who might still recognize him when he's supposed to be dead. There's no one there left to visit either, save for a few old friends who he can't keep in contact with because he wants to protect them.

He hasn't dated since he was 20-something. He doesn't want to take the risk of losing his loved ones ever again. He's had a few one night stands but disappears before dawn, hating the man he has to be in order to protect those who might otherwise steal their way into his heart.

He's considered using escort services instead, but even the thought leaves a foul taste in his mouth because of his childhood memories and the things his father did to women. He goes to strip clubs sometimes when he has a weak moment, drinks one whiskey and then goes to his motel room and jerks himself off, feeling lousy and even more depressed afterward.

If we ignore this man's attachment issues and complex trauma and imagine he would settle into a situationship or even a relationship:

Ghost is not mean, brutal or abusive. In bed or in any non-work related circumstances (Ghost would say he's not brutal or mean at work either: he's just efficient.) He can be rough if you want and even enjoys manhandling you a little, but he would have a hard time degrading you. He's a soft dom and a service top through and through and quite the gentleman at heart.

He has a lot of money. He's not a spender and has no kids so the pile of wealth he's accumulated over the years is quite enormous. He will spend his money on you though, take you out to dinner, buy you anything you need. He does it so willingly and effortlessly that you soon get a feeling that he's your sugar daddy or at least would want to be. He pays your electricity bill if he finds it on your table and sees it's overdue, doesn't even bother to ask for your permission. And oh, do you need a gorgeous dress for some occasion? Let him buy it for you. You need a car? Sure, no problem at all.

He's paranoid to the point of not telling you when he's about to visit you. He just pops on your doorstep, looking dog-tired and ten years older than he really is. The only thing he leaves in your apartment is a toothbrush and perhaps one of his sweatshirts (if you ask nicely.)

He seems to have a sixth sense, and is very superstitious. He thinks telling you he loves you is a perfect way to attract malevolent attention and bad luck upon himself, so he refrains from being verbal about how he truly feels. You think he's indifferent, that you're just a shag for this man, but in truth he's dedicated and devoted to you and sees no one else but you, thinks about you at work so much so that he already calls you a distraction in his mind. It's dangerous, his feelings are already bringing him bad luck, and so the cycle of silence continues…

He's an incredible hacker but uses old, foolproof technology to avoid being traced. You can never call him, he always calls you. If he even calls.

He's not a drinker and doesn't like to see you drinking either. He absolutely, vehemently hates drugs.

He's embarrassed about it but he has read like 5 novels in his lifetime. All other books have been non-fiction, manuals and the like. He says he hasn't got the time to read.

He loves to see you in ultra feminine underwear. Lace, stay ups, suspenders: he loves to undress you like you're a delicately wrapped Christmas present just for him.

He loves to eat pussy. He would eat you all day, every day, for the rest of his life if he could. He especially loves it when you ride his face and he gets to feel how your thighs start to tremble next to his face.

He loves missionary. Loves loves loves to spread you open and spread his religion. You even joke about it: that his ass is so fit because he fucks you so much, and he only smiles to himself because it's true.

Ghost wants kids, but would he ever tell you that? No. He never tells you anything. You know nothing of this man, not even his favorite movie or his favorite color (which is not black, btw).

He has a terrible praise kink. He loves praising you, teasing you, making you flustered while he's inside you – but if you ever tell him he's big? He's good? That you like it when he smiles? His brain goes full error. He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts and has to gather his breath. (Then he ups the stakes and praises you even more. Because he also has to win. Always.)

If you ever tell him you miss him, that you can't sleep without him… He disappears for weeks. Then he suddenly comes back, more touch starved and desperate than ever. Your words have gone under his skin whether he likes it or not. You can't even tell whether he's fucking you or making love to you, but you're left feeling like you just got hit by the most loving, gentle bus. There's no explanation, and it's futile to try and pry what's gone into him. But just before you fall asleep, he ghosts his fingers down your arm and whispers: "Pet… I missed you too."

[violentkisses999]

cw: extreme vampirism, blood loss and lust, sexual tension, dubcon, death

vampire reader with an unsuspecting human wanda, that would explain how you had managed to get her backed against the bathroom counter of the ladies' restroom. the fresh blood seeping out of the scratch on her forehead to blame for your one track mind.

you couldn't lie, even before that fight broke out at the bar, she had caught your attention. throughout the night, you could feel yourself getting lost in the auburn red wisps of her mane. you couldn't help but admire as she babysat the same honey gold glass of mead.

occasionally, she'd make small talk with the bartender. though, for the most of it, she peacefully nodded her head to the pounding rhythm of the booming music.

when the physical discourse broke out, you had honestly found it amusing. the drunken women were shameless as they threw their own heels, snatched any locks of hair they could grip, and broke each other's skin.

however, when the metallic odor of sweet crimson hijacked your senses, your previous attraction to the lonely woman only heightened. as your admiree held her head in pain, the liquid in your glass rippled as your hand began to tremble. how she had gotten caught in the cross fire was a mystery to you.

you could imagine red fumes hot on her trail as your little dove fled to the restrooms. your gaping pupils were locked onto her until her figure disappeared behind the heavy swinging door. it'd been about a year since you'd felt a beating in your chest quite as prominent as this one. your head was swarmed with restraint, and your emotions blended into one abominable urge. your fingers wrung tighter around your nearly empty glass.

the binary question was served clearly: will you evade through the nearest exit that exposed you to the open world, or invade the four walls that protected the alluring beauty from your selfish bloodlust?

suddenly, your sensitive ears caught wind of distant whining. the poor thing must be trying to cleanse the open wound. maybe that was the straw that broke the camel's back, along with the feeble glass that was now left in ragged shards pulling cold blood from your own flesh.

however, this didn't hender you from running a bloodied thumb over her wound. she physically flinched and drew in a harsh breath. in the moment, you could only focus on how your bloods danced in the flickering artificial light. your's: dark and tainted. her's: innocent and bright.

you stalked closer to her, eliminating distance between the two of you. the tip of your nose grazed down the bridge of her's. softly, her face tensed into an adorable scrunch. you wanted to take her then and there. you needed to selfishly corrupt her in every way.

still, you took your time. for some sick and twisted reason, you wanted her to flee. you wanted to see her go running for her life. perhaps, you enjoyed the hunt more than you should. who could blame you, it's the best part?

wanda, on the other hand, was becoming impatient. your nimble fingers felt like rods of ice as they scooped up her plush thighs. she was effortlessly lifted onto the sink. why were you so cold? your cool breath sent goosebumps down the centre of her back as your lips settled on the valley of her neck.

your sly fingers snuck under the skirt of her burgundy mini dress, halting when they grazed over a thin piece of lace. her hips bucked needily, and the grin etching onto your features was downright malicious.

again, you lifted her with great ease. she gasped and wrapped her legs around your waist as you carried her into the stall the furthest from the entrance. you sandwiched her body between yourself and the wall, your nose still buried in the crease of her neck.

you had to refrain from tearing her slutty little dress to pieces. instead, you simply bunched it around her hips. slowly, you began to rut your belt buckle against her sodden panties. meanwhile, you probed at the throbbing heartbeat underneath wanda's skin, your blossoming fangs scratching over the bulging veins.

you could feel wanda's heels digging into your bottom as her hips met yours halfway. it's when her airy pants convert into thick moans as she fucked herself on your pelvis, you become practically feral.

what a beautiful sound. you wanted more.

her skin tasted so sweet. you needed more.

you couldn't stop your hand when it muffled her moans, not even when you both heard the squelch of blood as it dripped over the hill of her chin.

oops. you must've forgotten that you had slashed your hand open earlier. though the cut healed long ago, your cold blood still remained.

the heavy heartbeat in wanda's core conflicted with the terror she felt beating in her chest as your metallic blood seeped between her lips. being forced fed blood was the last thing wanda was expecting when you approached her.

her moans were chopped into ragged breaths as she attempted to push you away. it was like clawing at a brick wall. you were so lost in her scent, her sharp heels digging into your calfs did nothing to throw off your steady balance.

without thinking, she stretched her jaw to open her mouth. her cries for help were muffled by your hand. though they wouldn't need to be for long. as soon as her lips were unsealed, your dark blood leaked from your hand onto the tip of her tongue. in that moment, her kicking and pushing ceased, her vision blurring.

at the same time, your honed fangs pierced the thick layers of wanda's flesh. she didn't kick or scream. surprisingly, her head rested against yours and her eyelashes began to flutter.

suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your palm. did wanda just... bite you? though her dull human teeth struggled, she gnawed at your flesh until you bled. you had heard that vampire blood could be compelling, but you had never witnessed the power of your own at work.

she sucked and licked until your skin began to heal itself. then, she'd just tear into your flesh again. your nonverbal dance of blood lust intensified as you drained her neck. she groaned into your hand at the feeling. wanda tasted so sweet on your tongue. she was sinless and unmarred: a true artifact of nature.

you wouldn't dare complain. your little dove- so willing to give and so naively desperate to take. her grip around your wrist felt like a shackle of possession. she hadn't planned on stopping. so, you can imagine how disappointed she was when you pulled away from her neck. your darkened eyes observe her features as they shrunk into a disheartened pout.

you marveled at how easy it was to corrupt such a pure entity. wanda's downturned lips were smeared with your blood. a vast percentage of her eyeballs were dominated by her pupils. you could tell that her head was anything but lucid as she struggled to make eye contact with you.

after a moment of silence, wanda tilted her head forward, her lips ready to connect with yours. though before she could make it to you, your hand collared her sore neck and guided her back against the wall.

her lips pursed as you drew in closer to her. you could almost chuckle at how reactive she was. she begrudgingly sighed as your lips passed her's and stopped when they were next to her ear. her hands began to roam your arms, clutching at the thick fabric of your sweater. she couldn't help but want to be underneath your skin. her nose burying itself in the side of your face.

your free arm snaked around her back, pulling her closer to you. your tone was almost sinister when you whispered, "rest well, my little dove."

before wanda could question your command, a cruel snap cut through the silence around you two. her body immediately fell limp in your arms. her breathing ceased as the color slowly drained from her face. you had no struggle lifting her into a bridal hold and resting her head against your chest.

you couldn't help but admire her lifeless features. soon, they'll be reanimated- probably furiously glaring at you. you'd apologize for corrupting your little dove, but you'd never really regret it. wether sooner or later, she'll learn to accept the undying bond between the two of you.

about me main masterlist

[succulentsiren]

The Siren

(n.) A woman of allure, mystery and danger.

The Siren is a true obsession for all that are graced by her presence.

Through her captivating sex appeal, glamourous appearance and seductiveness, she heavily entices and penetrates her victims.

Her highly charged femininity, is where her juiciest powers lie. Once her charm is activated, she can effortlessly attract an abundance of suitors who itch to court her, savor her and adorn her in the highest forms of luxury.

If you ever come across a woman with such a profound presence, she'll be impossible to miss, as the Siren is a walking spell.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Think of a sophisticated and seductive woman like Alexia Demie, who effortlessly charms the masses with her suave stature and dark mystique.

Think of an ambitious and wealthy woman like Rihanna, who has withheld the pressures of the public, and became a sparkling, rich diamond.

Think of the dark feminine icon Megan Fox, who screams danger and dives head first into expressing herself and bewitching both men and women alike.

Think of a succulent woman that holds personal magnetism like Marilyn Monroe, who mastered the art of being the Siren and knew how to turn her femininity off or on by will. Her magnetism catapulted her to worldwide success and recognition and she still remains a feminine entity.

Think of a woman of exotic beauty and charisma like Jennie, who commands all eyes on her when she enters the room and mesmerizes the world through her sensual stage presence.

Now visualize that being you.

🌹You too have the ability to turn your charm on and become spellbinding.

To activate your Siren Charm, join { @The Art of Being the Siren }