#it's even more beautiful than I imagined it would be

[luvzshy]

I’d really like something like billie and reader are together for a while now, everybody supports them but ONE friend of billie. they managed the situation but when billie surprisingly proposes this friend decides to talk to billie and declare her feelings, while doing it reader arrives in the room and shit hit the fan lol billie being the good fiancée we know she’ll be gets on reader side ofcccc

am i crazy? you can say so

The Confession That Almost Broke Us

Word Count: 1,130 words

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, unrequited love, emotional confrontation

a/n: okay so this is interestinggggg i love drama bro and if i was lana maaann, i would be crashing out 😭😭

You and Billie had been together for almost two years now, and life was good. You fit into her world like you’d been meant to be there all along. Billie’s friends and family had embraced you with open arms, thrilled to see her so happy and grounded. But there was always one person who seemed a little distant—Lana. She was one of Billie’s oldest friends, always hanging around on the periphery, smiling politely and keeping her comments to herself. You’d tried to shake off the weirdness between you, but sometimes, when she’d look at Billie, you couldn’t help but feel a chill of something… off.

Whenever you’d bring it up to Billie, she’d just laugh and brush it aside. “That’s just Lana being Lana,” she’d say. “She’s always been a little intense.”

You trusted Billie, so you didn’t push it. After all, no relationship is perfect, and if one friend wasn’t thrilled, you’d manage. Still, there were times when you felt Lana’s eyes on you, something guarded and closed-off, like she was holding onto a secret.

It all came to a head one night, when Billie planned a small gathering at your place to celebrate the anniversary of her first album release. Friends, family, a few close people from the industry—it was an intimate, warm night, with laughter and drinks flowing. Everyone crowded into your living room, sharing memories, laughing over stories from Billie’s early touring days, and just soaking up the celebration.

As the night wore on, Billie got quiet. She held your hand tightly, glancing around the room with a smile that seemed… different, more nervous than you were used to. Then, without warning, she stood up and faced you, holding your hand tightly. She took a deep breath, and your heart stopped as she dropped down on one knee.

The room fell silent. You could see wide-eyed smiles and gasps all around you, but all you could focus on was Billie. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and warmth, her fingers gently squeezing yours.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice shaky but steady. “You have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. Being with you… it’s like, every day, I’m the luckiest person in the world. And I can’t imagine my life without you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, popping it open to reveal a beautiful, sparkling ring. “Will you marry me?”

The room burst into cheers and applause, but for you, it all faded into the background. With tears in your eyes, you nodded, overwhelmed with joy. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Billie stood up and kissed you, pulling you close as your friends and family gathered around, congratulating you both, hugging and laughing and celebrating.

Everyone, that is, except Lana. She stood off to the side, her expression a mixture of shock and something else… pain, maybe? Her face was tight, and she didn’t join in the celebration. Billie seemed to notice, too, glancing her way with a slight frown before shaking it off and pulling you back into the moment.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of laughter, toasts, and shared joy. You tried to shake off the moment with Lana, chalking it up to shock or maybe just jealousy. But later that night, when Billie left the room to get something from the kitchen, Lana slipped away, following her.

Curious, you hung back, deciding to give them a moment. But then you heard hushed voices coming from the other room. Lana’s voice, choked with emotion, drifted toward you.

“Billie, I need to talk to you,” she was saying. “Please, just… listen. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and I can’t anymore. I have feelings for you. I’ve always had feelings for you. I thought, maybe… one day, you’d see that I was the one who was supposed to be by your side. And now, seeing you with her, seeing you propose… I can’t take it anymore.”

There was a long, painful silence before Billie spoke, her voice low but resolute. “Lana… I’m sorry. I love you, but not in that way. You’re my friend, and you’ve always been special to me. But Y/N is the one I’m in love with. She’s the one I want to spend my life with.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You walked into the room, your heart pounding as Lana turned, startled to see you there. Her face flushed, and she looked away, clearly mortified. Billie’s eyes met yours, filled with concern and apology.

“Y/N,” Billie said softly, moving to your side. She took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

Lana stammered, looking down at the floor, realizing the weight of what she’d just done. “I… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I thought maybe…”

You took a deep breath, trying to find words that would hold the peace but also express your hurt. “Lana, I understand this might be hard for you. But Billie chose me. We’re building a life together.”

Lana nodded, eyes downcast, her shoulders slumping. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I’ll go.”

Without another word, she left the room, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie turned to you, her hands gentle on your face, her eyes filled with love. “You’re my everything, Y/N. No one could ever come between us.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, feeling the security and warmth in her embrace. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges might come your way, Billie was yours—and you were hers.

[halfhoursonearth-writes]

I try not to read anti-Zutara takes because like, help, I'm literally here to escape the dark divisive real world. But one point that I see over and over is that there's no time between when Katara forgives Zuko and the end of the series for the dynamic to shift between them.

I always found this kind of a surprising argument (leaving aside all the narrative and thematic groundwork already laid between these two characters, and also the in-show precedent for compressed romantic timelines like Sokka and Yue) because of the Ember Island of it all.

Between the scene where Katara forgives Zuko and the scene when he jumps in front of lightning to save her (both romance-coded visuals), they're living for weeks as unsupervised teenagers in beautiful beach house, emotions running higher than ever as they face down the end of the world as they know it, in a location the story has already told us "has a special way of smoothing even the most ragged edges."

It's kind of hard to imagine a setting or situation with more romantic potential. Except maybe the moment after Katara saves Zuko after he risked his life to save her.

I'm not saying the show cashed in on that potential, obviously. I just mean that one scene with the two of them having a heart-to-heart on the beach late at night or flirting in the surf would have been pretty much all it took.

[actuallysaiyan]

Learning To Love(Sugar Daddy!Toshinori Yagi/All Might x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, love hotel, sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, love confessions, water jet masturbation, oral sex(male receiving) word count: 3.3k!!!! pairings: Sugar Daddy!Toshinori Yagi/All Might x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader summary: you've been seeing each other for a while now and while it's supposed to be casual, it becomes everything far from casual

a/n: special thanks to @mightytato. for helping to keep me motivated and inspired!!!!!!!

dividers: @adornedwithlight.

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld

It wasn’t what he wanted. It was actually really far from what he was wanting. A love hotel wasn’t the place to bring someone special to, but damn…was he getting ahead of himself again? This is just another one of your quick dates. That’s all it is, nothing more. He has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t anything official.

You two started seeing each other about nine months ago. You met through some acquaintances that figured you’d be a good match. Toshinori was looking for someone to keep him company, and you were looking for someone to take care of you financially. And when you two finally were introduced, it was instantaneous how you two clicked.

Looking back on it, Toshinori realizes how quickly he fell for you. He knows this isn’t that kind of relationship, but he can’t help but fantasize about how good it would be to be yours for good. How proud he would be to be your lover and to be the one you call yours. He dreams about it more often than he’d like to admit.

“Toshi!” He hears your beautiful voice call out. “Hey!”

When he turns to look at you, his breath hitches in his throat. You’re wearing such a cute outfit today; then again, you always wear such a cute outfit when you’re with him. His heart flutters in his chest when you jump up and wrap your arms around him.

“Missed you so much, daddy.” You coo softly before you give him a kiss.

“Missed you too, sweetness. I’m glad you’re here.”

This is when he begins to blush. He almost forgot about his plans. A friend had mentioned this place to him and talked up about how fun it was to stay with someone intimate. The way they described the intimacy had been quite enticing to him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tenderly caressing his cheek.

He nearly coughs up blood when you ask this. “Well…uhm…”

His bangs fall down in front of his eyes and he’s trying to think of the right words to use. All he thinks to do is to pull the keycard out of his pocket and show it to you. You look at the cute design on the card and then you look at the big hotel across the street.

“I can’t imagine that’s for this hotel,” you say as you point at it.

Toshi shakes his head, “N-no…”

You look at the keycard once more and then a blush creeps up on your cheeks. Your stomach does a little flip when you start putting the pieces together. It wouldn’t be the first time Toshinori brings you to a hotel, but you two have never stayed in a love hotel.

“Someone recommended it to me,” he begins to explain. “They said it was a fun experience! This one has a maid cafe in it and there’s a hot tub with jets in the room and I think there’s even a pole for…”

You giggle softly, “what are we waiting for? Sounds like a fun night!”

You grab his hand and pull him along down the street. Toshi’s heart races at the excitement. Wouldn’t you prefer something more classy? Then again, you’ve always been happy with the bare minimum. He loves to spoil you, there’s no doubt about it. But you’ve always been so happy with anything he buys or gives you.

Come to think about it, you seem the happiest when he takes time to spend with you…

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you two stop in front of this neon-lit hotel. It looks so cute, but really you two know what’s waiting for you inside. He opens the door for you and then you both walk in. There’s nobody at the front desk, but there are a few touchscreens that showcase the rooms available.

“I’ve already booked our room for all night,” Toshi whispers in your ear.

His hand envelopes yours as he guides you towards the elevators. There’s a cute song playing as you two ride up to the top floor. You’re feeling giddy with delight as you get closer and closer. Then the elevator stops and you two step out into a dimly lit hallway.

The carpets are meticulously cleaned from the looks of it, despite the nature of the business. There’s fancy look art hung up on the walls. And then you stop in front of a mahogany door, and Toshi slides the keycard through the machine. He opens up the door and you get to take a look inside.

You’re wowed by the sheer size of the place. It’s a lot bigger than you were anticipating. It’s a plush carpet at your feet, in a sort of rose color. Then your eyes trail off to see the large, king-sized bed with the red satin sheets and heart-shaped throw pillows in the middle. Toshi nudges you gently and points at the pole on the raised platform part of the room.

“That’s the uh…”

You giggle, “Oh you want me to put on a show for you then?”

Once again, he’s hiding his face behind his bangs. How you could so easily rile him up and fluster him…

Then he takes your hand and guides you to the big bathroom. It’s dimly lit in here too, with a few ambient lights along the wall. The big hot tub sits in the corner of the room, looking ever so inviting. It’s so large and looks like it could fit way more than just two people.

“Looks like fun,” he comments as he comes behind you. Then his big hands begin to massage your shoulders. You begin to lean back against him.

“Mhm, I was just thinking that. I bet you could use a nice bath after the hard work week you’ve had.”

It was true, he had worked very hard this week. He missed you a lot more than usual, considering he hadn’t had the chance to visit you throughout the week. Toshinori had every intention of worshiping you and spending as much time as he could to pleasure you.

He leans in to press little kisses to your neck, relishing in the sweet floral scent of your perfume. You always smelled so delectable. Everything about you made his knees weak and his mouth water. Then you turn around and you pull him in for a very long kiss.

“I should be spoiling you,” you say with a soft bat of your long eyelashes. “You deserve it for being so good to me.”

He gasps when you get on your knees in front of him. Your hands are on his belt before he can protest. You’re so damn sweet to him, it makes him twitch in his pants. His eyes are full of lust as he watches you undress him from the waist down.

“I wanted to spoil you, baby girl.” He grunts as you pull his pants down. “It’s not fair…”

You giggle as you begin palming him through his boxers, “Don’t worry, daddy. You’ll get your chance later.”

He closes his eyes as you pull down his boxers. His cock bobs as it’s pulled from the cotton confines of his underwear. You notice how he’s already leaking lots of precum.

“Poor daddy, so pent up.” You say in such a saccharine tone. It makes his heart melt and his cock twitch.

Before he can say anything, you’re wrapping your plump lips around the tip of his cock. Toshi gasps at the wet heat enveloping him, and his hand comes down to tangle his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t push you, instead he’s more than content to have you set the pace. Slowly, you sink down further until you begin to choke.

“Easy, baby girl. Take your time,” he caresses your cheek, which makes your heart race.

You shouldn’t be having these feelings for him. You’ve been grateful not to see him all week because of one reason. You realized you were growing too comfortable with him. He plagues your thoughts whenever he’s not around. You’ve even begun to dream about him, which has never happened with any of your other sugar daddies.

Toshinori was becoming the real thing before you could put a stop to it.

The more you take him into your mouth, the more you grow aroused. When you look up at him and see just how turned on he is, you know you’re almost done for. You couldn’t keep holding all these feelings back. You eagerly take him all the way into your mouth, relaxing your throat and breathing out your nose.

“F-fuck sweetheart,” Toshinori groans. “H-how am I supposed to last like this?”

You pull off of him with a pop, stroking him gently before you get back to your feet. What really turns you on is when Toshinori kisses you deeply despite the fact that you just had his cock in your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he begins to undress you.

Slowly, the two of you make it to the hot tub. He turns on the water before turning his attention back to you. He begins to kiss you once more, but then as he takes off more of your clothing, the lower his kisses go.

Toshinori moans softly against your skin when your fingernails rake against his scalp. He bends down to take off your bottom and your shoes. Then he slowly peels off your underwear. The look he gives you when he’s got you fully nude is nothing short of incredibly lewd.

“You are my angel,” he mumbles before leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. “Such a pretty angel for daddy.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing when he says these filthy words. Not that Toshinori never says anything dirty, but it always sounds so damn good when it comes from his lips. Then he reaches behind you to turn on the jets. The tub is nearly full and you’re really excited to see what you’ll get up to.

“Ready for a soak, honey?” He asks, kissing your lips once more.

You nod your head, “Yeah.”

He turns off the water, then helps you into the warm and relaxing water. The jets feel so good on your muscles. Toshinori lets out a happy and relaxed sigh when he feels the jets on his worn out body. He’s beginning to think about getting one of these installed in his home.

Then his mind begins to wander to thoughts of you being there with him. Bath nights with you would be so heavenly. He would have a hard time not asking you to accompany him in the bath every night if you lived with him…

“Lost in thought, handsome?” you ask as you come closer to begin rubbing his chest.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice and your sweet touch. “Oh, yeah sorry about that.”

He then leans in close, cupping your cheeks. His forehead leans against yours in a way that makes your whole body heat up. You let your eyes close as his thumbs stroke your cheeks so sweetly.

“I should be here in the moment with you,” he whispers before he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

You wrap your arms around him, kissing him back with equal passion. It takes little time for him to pull you onto his lap. You squeal softly, making him chuckle at your cute reaction. Then he’s back to kissing you, pushing his tongue into your mouth and tangling with yours.

His cock begins to press up against your ass, and you reach down between you both and you guide him to your hole. He looks at you curiously, wondering if you’re really going for it without the proper prep.

“No,” he whispers. “Allow me.”

Then he turns you around in his lap, pushing your back to his chest. In this position, one of the jets is beginning to hit your clit. You gasp at the sudden stimulation. Toshinori smirks before he spreads you open to get that perfect stream against your clit.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbles against your skin before nipping at your neck. “You almost foiled my plans. Don’t be a bad girl for daddy.”

You can barely respond. With the rushing stream of water against your clit, you feel like you’re going to cum so fast. Lucky for you, that’s exactly what Toshinori has in mind for you. You tremble and shake with every second it hits you right where you need it to.

“D-daddy, I’m…”

Before you have a chance to finish your sentence, Toshinori prods your little hole with his cock. You close your eyes and cry out as the growing pleasure becomes almost too much. He slowly helps you sink down on his cock and the moment the tip hits your sweet spot, you begin to cum.

His grip on you tightens and he’s having to control his breathing not to spill inside of you immediately. The way your little walls contract around him and the soft cries of your voice are enough to send him right to heaven. Toshinori bites down on your shoulder to keep himself calm.

“S’okay,” you moan. “S’okay if you cum quickly.”

He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but he’s happy that you’re not mad for the sudden need to blow his load. It’s been a long week and you just feel so good. He begins pumping up into your tight, wet heat. You take him so good, fitting so snugly around his big dick. Toshinori shudders when he feels his balls drawing up.

“C-can’t hold back,”

With a loud grunt, he’s painting your insides white. His hands are tight on your body to keep you pushed down on his cock, prolonging the pleasure for him. Then he slowly begins to pull you off, setting you down next to him in the warm water. Toshinori closes his eyes as he catches his breath.

Then comes your soft and sweet touch again. You brush some hair out of his face, then you kiss his cheek. You’re in your own daze, wondering how you could ever have a better orgasm than that. And the way he so easily guided you through it and wanted it for you, it made you wonder just how long you can keep pushing these feelings down.

“Wanna check out the bed?” You ask softly, nipping at his neck.

He wraps his arm around you, “Of course. Anything for you.”

With ease, he picks you up from the bath and helps you onto the mat. Lovingly, he dries you off with one of the fluffy towels. You are beginning to wonder what his true intentions were for this little hotel trip. Then he helps you into the silky robe the hotel provided for you.

What surprises him is when you do the same for him. You even begin to apply some lotion onto his skin. Toshi blushes and tries to look away, but you won’t let him. If you were going to fall head over heels for him, then he was going to do exactly that for you. You weren’t going down alone.

He leads you back into the bedroom and gently guides you onto the bed. You let out a giggle when he gets on the bed too and crawls over to you. His lips are so soft on your body as he begins to kiss your neck, then down your chest.

“You’re obsessed with my chest,” you tease him.

He smirks up at you, “Like you’re not obsessed with mine.”

This causes you to blush. It was true, whether he was in his buff form or like this, you often took your time to press kisses and kitten licks on his chest. You even spent time kissing his scar. That had taken him a long time to show it to you, and even longer to tell you the story attached to it. Your heart clenches when you think about how much trust that must have taken for him.

“You got me there,” you whisper sweetly. “I can’t help that I really love looking at you.”

There you go, saying that damn word. Even if you didn’t say ‘I love you’, just hearing you say the word love has Toshinori’s insides in knots. He doesn’t want to hear you say that damn word, but in reality, he’d die happy if you said you loved him. He can’t hold it back now.

When he looks at you again, your eyes lock. You can see a whirlwind of emotions in those troubled eyes. Then he pulls you on top of him as he lays on his back. His hands are calloused but they feel so good on your smooth skin.

“Ride me,” he says sheepishly.

A shudder runs through you as you eagerly get into position. You begin to stroke his hardening cock. Toshinori moans and gasps as you work him so well. Then you guide him to your still dripping hole. With his cum already lubing you up, it’s not so much of a stretch this time.

His arms come up to begin holding you so close. He pulls you into his chest as you rock your hips. Something about this is much more intimate than anything you’ve ever done. You can’t help but feel a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

“Don’t want to let you go,” he chokes out. “My heart can’t take it.”

You gasp when you hear his soft words. It’s all too much. You’re crumbling as well as you continue to rock your hips. His touch is so soft on your body and the way he pulls you in for another kiss has you clenching around him.

“I promise myself I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t fall for you,” you admit. You want to look away, but he won’t let you.

“I promise myself the same thing,” he says.

There’s a look of pure pleasure on his face as you pick up your pace. He grips onto your hips, guiding you to ride him at the pace you want. He’s loving every single minute of this. Then his hands slide up your body to your breasts where he kneads them.

“You make me feel so good, you make me want to live.”

You swallow hard when he says this. “You bring happiness to my life,”

He’s having a hard time holding back once more. It’s just becoming too much. He lets one of his hands down to rub your clit, pushing you over the edge with a few more thrusts. As your walls clamp down around him, he’s grunting your name.

“I–I LOVE YOU!” He cries out as he cums hard.

Your heart skips a beat as you try to come to terms with what he’s just said. You think back on all the time you’ve spent together and it should have been even more obvious. Now, you know it’s the truth and you know you need to tell him how you feel.

As he gets his breathing under control, he’s regretting saying that right as he reached his peak. His cheeks are burning and he’s trying to get you off of him.

But then you kiss him so lovingly. Both of your hands come up to cup his cheeks. You stay on him, holding him so close to you. You know you have to confess on your part too.

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips.

Toshinori flips you both over, with him on top of you. It’s a rush of kisses and soft words from his lips. You can’t stop smiling as you begin to run your fingers through his hair. He rubs his nose against yours before kissing you once more.

“Guess we’ll have to use the pole next time, huh?” he jokes softly as he lays down next to you.

You roll over to rest your head on his chest, “It’s too bad. I was going to put on such a good show for you.”

He squeezes you tight, kissing you so sweetly. Toshinori lulls you to sleep with soft words of love. He knows he’s never letting you go now that you’re his for real. And you have no intention of letting him go either.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[thehigherseekerastro]

Random Astrology Observations (Alternative Meanings Love Edition) 2 🤨❤️🤔

DISCLAIMER: I am in no way, shape or form a professional astrologer, modern or traditional.

I HAVE been studying astrology for a while now, and analysing charts available to me, as well as my own, and noticed a lot of the info you find online doesn't make sense in real life, because it is too reductive, stereotypical or lacks broader context. So I thought I'd share some of my personal observations to see if it resonates with anyone.

This is NOT the end all, be all. Apply it as it makes sense to you.

**************************************************

The 1st House 🙋‍♂️

The 1H in synastry is a tricky one, because the first house itself is related to our individual identity. It is the house of self. So, when it comes to having a love planet here, things can get really murky. You'll often hear that it indicates instant attraction, but also only surface-level. While that is not entirely wrong, it would be a disservice to reduce it to just that. Yes, first house ties back to your physical appearance and external impact. But what does that mean for someone else being impacted and impacting that? Does it even apply in synastry? The answer is: YES. And it goes much deeper than you'd think. It will talk about an immediate recognition. It talks of being mesmerized by someone's look and demeanor, but that comes accompanied with an obsessive need to know more about you, to be around you, to soak up as much of you as possible, as if to aggressively learn you. And that's because you will tickle all the boxes the person had been holding inside (and vice-versa).

(e.g.: having someone's planet(s) fall into your 1st house doesn't just mean they will be attracted to you, if it's romantic. It also means the person feels like you two share a vibe, share interests, ideas. It means they feel like you move according to their speed, and therefore, that could lead to a lot of trust and comfort on their part, because you feel like a safe place. Not in the same sense as the 4H, but in a more "this person will have my back, cause we're the same!" kind of way. It makes the person feel like you are enough, because you fit them. So even if everyone else disagrees with them or doesn't understand them, they'll sort of look over at you, and if you validate them, that will be enough for them. They'd rather have your approval – since you are someone who gets them – than to have the approval of a bunch of people who don't understand where they are coming from.)

It truly is a beautiful thing, but even positive planets with positive aspects can lead to unwanted side-effects. The house person could come to resent the planet person because of how much they like them. Depending on who the house person is – if they have a dominant or prideful personality, for example – they may come to resent and even become angry with the planet person at times, because they'll feel so strongly for the planet person that they could start acting out of character for them, and that can make them feel like they're losing control of themselves. And as human beings, what do we do when we feel out of control? Shift blame and start looking for culprits. This DOES tend to wear off, though, exactly because of how intensely the house person feels for the planet person, but it can burn hot for a minute or two, specially if they end up getting into an ugly fight and the 1H person tries to forget the planet person, but they can't bring themselves to hate them. They'll get angry at the fact that no matter how hard they try to hate the person, they still feel enchanted by them.

(this could also create an unwanted feeling of "nobody else is like them", so the 1H could panic a bit at the thought of losing the planet person because 1H synastry creates the immediate feeling of the "perfect person for me", so imagine thinking you found the perfect person for you... it can make you feel like if you lose them you'll never recover, because no one else will be like them or able to replace them as perfectly)

All in all, though, first house Synastry tends to usually show up good results, depending on the planets and aspects involved. Another aspect of this synastry that doesn't get talked about for some reason is the fact that they tend to obsess over and notice the tiny details in each other. So it creates this effect of falling for them over and over and over again, cause they'll keep finding little things about the other person that they find enchanting, and THAT'S what creates the physical attraction. It's not that the planet or house person are conventionally attractive to everyone – they might not even fit the beauty standards –, but to the house person, those little details will sort of build up the planet person's beauty step by step, and by the time they catch on, they'll be enamored with every part of them, so, to the house person, the planet person truly is the most beautiful thing ever.

(1H house synastry also brings a 1st house energy to the attraction. NO - NOT ARIES. First house. But it will sound like arian qualities because Aries does rule the first house, after all. What this means is that a big part of the attraction for the 1H person is feeling like the planet person is independent, self-sufficient, confident, self-assured and capable. Because it's taping into their 1st house of self, the house person can sort of see the best of themselves reflected on the planet person, which means they feel like all the things they are insecure to show the world, the planet person has and is not afraid to show them. So they feel like planet person not only embodies their attraction ideal, but also the ideal personality they wish they had themselves. Which they do, but they don't realize it until planet person comes along and brings it out of them.)

First house Synastry is a complex kind of Synastry that is much more psychological than it's given credit for. People often focus on superficial physical attraction and gloss over the fact that it's like somebody is literally stepping into your mind and making your inner fantasies come out. It can feel very vulnerable and intense.

The 7th House 💍

Oh, isn't this one a gem?! Perhaps one of the most sought after in synastry. But the idea here is to provide an alternative perspective, so here goes: if it's badly aspected, or there's other challenging factors involved (the person falling into your 7H is problematic themselves), you're gonna run into the issues people often attribute to 1st house synastry, such as superficiality and a "false love" because 7H Synastry, regardless if it's good or bad, creates somebody who's "perfect on paper". They say the right things, they do the right things, they seem to fit into your whole ideals. But that does not guarantee that that's who they truly are. That's just who you think they are. Remember – the 7H is the house of "other". So it's not about you. It's about the other. But it's rather how you act around said other, and also how you perceive them.

(It's tough to say this, but you gotta be real to help some people out there who might have had 7H Synastry and didn't understand why the relationship failed, since everyone online claims it's a guaranteed soulmate. It's because Synastry goes both ways. And all houses have good and bad. There is no such thing as the perfect Synastry. But in the case of the 7H, I'd say it's the real life case of "if it's good, then it will be amazing. Truly a soulmate. But if it's bad... it will be awful. Just not immediately.)

Going off of the previous comment, another grim way this Synastry can turn out is in its binding effect. And I don't mean anything spiritual or abstract here. I mean literally binding. Imagine a relationship going sideways like that AND you are also now married or share a business together. MESS! This is the house of contracts and long-term. Remember Saturn exalts in Libra, because Libra likes things that last, and Saturn is the planet of long-term, so the house of Libra will sprinkle that lasting effect over whatever it touches. And if you're in a 7H relationship, that relationship will last with you, whether good or bad. It will take A WHILE to break off from it, either mentally, emotionally, psychologically, legally or financially.

(e.g. somebody has their moon in your 7H, but it's a moon at fall, in Scorpio, and it's afflicted in their natal chart. Now, at the beginning they will seem like a gift from God directly to you, so much so that you decide to make it official... And then, one or two years in, living together, each day it gets more toxic and draining and the dark sides just oozes out of your relationship. But now you are legally married, and divorcing will take time, bureaucracy, money and emotional energy, not to mention you'll have to uproot your entire life, explain it to your social circles and families... And what seemed like your dream come true was in fact a bitter lesson to learn).

To veer away from the dark twists of the last ones, let's dissect the correlations people make with the 7th house, like "oh, your spouse will be interested in art, and beauty, and music, and sophisticated things!" Why? Are you marrying a Libra? A Libra rising? Somebody with a Libra Venus? No? Then that has nothing to do with 7H Synastry. Houses are not signs, signs are not houses. Libra is one thing, the 7H is another. Venus rules Libra, which resides in the 7H, but Venus doesn't rule the 7H. It merely influences the 7H. It would be a better guess to say you might have met your person while they (or you) were already in a relationship than it is to say you met because of beauty-related things, or art, or music, since the 7H doesn't talk of any of those things, but it DOES talk of committed relationships.

(e.g. you might have met the person right after they (or you) got divorced. They might be connected to an ex of yours. Or another possibility that isn't talked about is how the person you eventually end up with is someone you have liked for a long time, but never got the chance to be with until now. Since this is the house of long-term relationships, having placements here could indicate that the person you ultimately stay with long-term is someone you already knew prior to getting together, but you needed to experience other relationships before you united with them.)

Another final aspect of placements in this house is the fact that it doesn't just deal with your love relationships, but also the way you consciously present yourself with others. How you behave socially. But also the mirror effect of this house, speaking directly about love. This is, after all, the house directly opposing the 1st house of self. In that regard, this is similar to 1H synastry, with the exception that in this one, instead of you coming out of your shell subconsciously, you make a conscious effort to become your best for your person here. You want to live up to all of your potential.

The 2nd House 💆‍♂️

This one is a bit tricky for me, because I'm not materialistic AT ALL. I have a Taurus Lilith in the 2nd house, so, I express it on the other end of the spectrum. When you have that placement, you either put too much value on money and material things, or you are completely unattached from it, and that's me. So the whole "money this, money that!" vibe is not my scene. I don't see a price in life, I see value. With that said, let's get this going.

Yes, this is the house of money and material things. Yes, it will deal with your personal finances. But no, unless other parts of your chart/Synastry agree with it, somebody's placements falling here should not have a lasting effect. It might merely indicate you overspending on dates and gifts. The 2H is the house of YOUR money, which means that the whole "oh, they're gonna shower you in gifts!", "And this is a sugar baby aspect!", "Your person will want to spend all their money on you and buy you expensive things!" is probably not gonna happen, sorry. If it does, it will be you spending your money.

(And if you do spend your money, the whole "gifts" thing is also not that common, because normal people don't just go around buying gifts for others every other day of the week, unless they have some sort of imbalance. Such a consumerist mindset! Not everything is about paying for things or buying things. That's a VERY American culture of dating, specially for women. This nasty idea that a man has to buy you or he's not good. Which is what encourages habits like thinking the man always has to be covering your finances (how old are you, 5? Get a job and pay for your own damn self! You are an adult woman), paying for your food, buying you a house, giving you gifts all the time and affording expensive dates. You are not a product. If your biggest incentive to be with a man is because of how much he pays for you, then that's the world's oldest profession, not a relationship of love. So this should play out more like them helping you manage your own finances. Don't go around thinking a 2H love placement is gonna turn you into Cinderella.)

If you do happen to be a stay-at-home person in your relationship, which is valid, as long as it's not all about money, 2H love placements and synastry will talk more about other material aspects of things. It will talk of stability, sustainability, longevity and security.

(e.g.: it could mean that you allocate your resources towards creating a safe, stable environment for your life together to flourish, such as buying things for your home together, revising your finances to make life goals and plans together more viable, setting budgets to achieve milestones together... as well as the literal physical aspects of valuables, so using your resources towards nourishment (food, shelter, clothing and health). Things that will ensure your relationship lasts and endures through hardships and tribulations. In the 2H of values, Synastry could indicate the relationship itself becoming your prized possession that you take care of. All the Earth houses are about caring for things, just in different ways.)

Another poorly explored aspect of the 2H is values in the moral, spiritual and emotional sense. It's WORTH. Both the causes you find worthy as well as your self-worth. A 2H love placement or Synastry can and will directly affect that. Even if you do happen to be dealing with financial/material things too, that can affect your self-worth directly.

(e.g.: say you are married to someone who is constantly in debt, or say your spouse is the breadwinner of the household and you depend on them financially. That can really take a toll on your self-worth. It can bring feelings of poor self-esteem, can you make you feel undervalued, inadequate, make you feel like a burden, or make you feel incapable of caring for yourself. It can strike your self-confidence and make you VALUE yourself less. Or the opposite. Your spouse may open you up to new possibilities of making money, which in turn gets you into a new passion project that you succeed in and that can make you feel like a worthy person, make you believe in yourself, make you feel important and valuable.)

I would argue that most often, it's the 8H Synastry that will really have your partner's materials affecting you, because the 2H is the house of your PERSONAL gains, while the 8H is the house of OTHERS' gains and possessions. Most often, the biggest impact I'd say 2H love placements have will be dealing with self-worth, self-confidence, shared values and morals, feelings of belonging and acceptance.

General Things ✨

What I see most often is that positive and negative outcomes tend to happen simultaneously. It's not all doom and gloom, but it's also not all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes it's great, sometimes it's not so great, and those ups and downs come and go. That's just life. Both are there to be worked with, worked for, or worked through. At the end of the day, astrology will not mandate your life events, and you have to always be learning from your life, and working on yourself and the things that matter to you. Astrology is just a guiding light to identify possible themes to be mindful of.

**************************************************

That's it! Thank you if you've read it this far! I might have come off a bit harsh (I hope I haven't), but I promise I'm nice lol.

My whole goal is to try to discuss astrology in as realistically as possible, but while making it clear that any possible outcome is plausible. If most times all you hear are fantastic stereotypical descriptions of placements, such as 7H, the not so great ways in which it can play out will be explored here to help people navigate them. If all you hear are bad things about a house, then I'll try to show the positive ways in which it can come out.

The whole point is to try to bring a wide range of notions to these descriptions, together with the information that is already out there and available by many other creators.

At the end of the day, remember this is all POSSIBILITIES. Your personal life has to be analysed to know what's gonna ensue. And don't be discouraged, because the truth is that positive and negative effects tend to happen together for your best.

Hope you have a good day when you find this!

MASTERLIST

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST PT2 | FC43

part one

an: not even gonna leave an an, i always had a part two lol

wc: 5.2k

Franco found out she was dating Angelo via an Instagram story. A fucking Instagram story.

But that was almost three years ago now, and Franco tried to let it go, god did he try. He was getting married now, after all. He had to forget about what could have been.

The engagement ring on his finger felt heavier than it should. Not because he hadn’t once thought it was right—he had. Or maybe he just convinced himself it was right. They’d been together for four years, maybe more, he stopped counting. She was beautiful, poised, easy to love, easy to fit into his world. That’s what he’d told himself, anyway.

But now, standing in the grand suite of the London hotel they’d rented for the weekend, Franco stared out the window at the city below, watching the lights flicker in the distance. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was missing. Not that he had any right to be questioning it. After all, he was about to get married, wasn’t he?

The last three years had been a blur of wins, podiums, and post-race parties. Formula 1 had been a dream realised, his face plastered across billboards in every country, every magazine with his name next to the headlines. He’d travelled the world, earned millions, lived a life many envied. But somewhere along the way, his heart had wandered.

And the truth was, despite the glamour, despite the fame, the money, he couldn’t shake the thought of her. The way she’d looked when she told him she loved him first. The way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears that night in Monza—before she left for good. The way she’d walked away, no longer the girl he took for granted. It was like he could still see her disappearing down the hallway of the hotel, leaving him behind, a shadow in her past.

What if I had chosen her?

He thought about that too often. But it was too late. She was gone. She’d moved on with Angelo, the guy who was everything Franco wasn’t—steady, grounded, someone who could give her a love that wasn’t tied to racing, fame, or endless, mind-numbing travel. And that fucking Instagram story—her laughing, the two of them in a café in Buenos Aires, arms around each other, looking so effortlessly happy—had been the final blow.

That was the last straw.

And now, three years later, here he was—about to get married, with the wrong person. He should have been thrilled, but something about it gnawed at him, like he was suffocating in a life that wasn’t his own. She was everything he thought he wanted. She’d followed him to every race, always the perfect girlfriend, the perfect partner. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure he loved her anymore. He wasn’t sure he ever had.

She had been the easy option. She fit into the world he’d built for himself—the shiny, public life, the world of sponsorships and media appearances. She had the right background, the right education, the right looks. She was what was expected of him. What people saw when they looked at a successful F1 driver: the perfect match, the ideal woman.

But the reality was that whenever he closed his eyes, he saw someone else. He saw her. The girl from that small village in Argentina, the one who’d loved him first and probably would, even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when he hadn’t been able to see it for what it was.

He hadn’t thought about her for a while—not in the sense that would make him ache, not the way he used to. He’d buried that pain under the chaos of the last few years. But it was like a low hum in the back of his mind. Every time he saw Angelo’s name pop up, or when he’d hear a new story about her from people back home, he couldn’t help but wonder how her life had turned out. Was she happy? Was she still with Angelo? Was she finally over him?

He could only imagine the life she’d built without him—the kind of life she deserved.

But now, standing on the edge of a new chapter of his life, Franco wondered if he’d ever be able to move on. Because, no matter how many laps he raced, no matter how many trophies he collected, it always came back to her. And now, with his wedding on the horizon, he couldn’t help but ask himself: What the hell had he been doing this whole time?

His phone buzzed on the table, snapping him back to the moment. His fiancée. A text: “Hey, I made reservations for dinner tonight!”

He sighed and stared at the screen of his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

He knew he shouldn’t, it was ridiculous. It was stupid. He had no right to send her an invitation, not after everything. He hadn’t heard from her in so long, hadn’t even thought about reaching out beyond those painful Instagram stories and the passing updates from mutual friends.

But, for some reason, there he was—typing out an invitation to his wedding.

It’s the right thing to do, he told himself. She was a part of his past. She had been the first person to love him unconditionally. They’d spent too many years growing up together not to extend an olive branch. Besides, she had a life now, a life without him. Maybe it was selfish to think she would even want to come, but maybe, just maybe, she deserved to know. She deserved to hear it from him, the way things had turned out.

He hit “send” before he could overthink it any more. The words felt hollow as they left his phone, but there was no going back now.

It was a quiet afternoon in Buenos Aires. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light through the windows of their apartment. She and Angelo had just finished dinner—nothing fancy, just pasta and wine—and now she was curled up on the couch with a book in her lap, one of the many cosy rituals they had settled into over the past couple of years.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced at it, seeing a notification from her email app. The subject line made her pause.

Wedding Invitation: Franco Colapinto.

She blinked, feeling her chest tighten before she even opened it. It had been so long since she’d thought about him—since Monza, really. It was a chapter of her life that had closed the moment she walked away. But the sight of his name brought it all rushing back. The summers spent racing bikes down dirt roads, his smile so effortless, so wide. The way he’d looked at her before everything changed.

Slowly, she opened the email, feeling a strange mixture of nostalgia and disbelief.

I hope this message finds you well. It’s been a while since we last spoke, but I wanted to reach out and invite you to something important. I’m getting married in three months' time, and I wanted to personally invite you to be a part of the day. It wouldn’t feel right without including you.

I understand if you’re unable to come, but I thought it was important to extend the invitation.

I hope everything is going well in your life.

All the best,

Fran

She stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, the words swimming in her mind. There were so many things she could have said, but the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of her heart, beating a little faster than it should. A soft ache settled in her chest.

Three years had passed. She had moved on, found a life she was proud of—one that was stable and calm, filled with love from Angelo, whose steady hand had never wavered, who had been everything Franco couldn’t be. She had built a future, and it was more than she had ever expected for herself.

And yet, the invitation sat there, a reminder of what had been. Of the boy she had loved, the boy who had never truly seen her. Of the boy who she had walked away from.

She set the phone down for a moment, leaning back against the couch. Angelo’s gentle snoring filled the living room from the slightly ajar door, a quiet reminder of the life they had made together—together, with no ghosts of the past lingering between them. But even as she sat there, she could feel the sting of Franco’s message, the painful reminder of how much had been left unsaid.

She thought about the wedding. How strange it felt to be invited to something so intimate, something so final. It was a life she would never be a part of. A life that wasn’t hers to claim, never was. But part of her, deep down, still wondered what had happened. Was he happy? Was this really the life he wanted? Or was this just another easy option for him? Another decision made out of convenience?

Why am I even asking myself this?

She shook her head, her lips curling into a rueful smile. She knew she didn’t want to go. There was no reason to go back to that part of her life, not now. Not when everything she had built with Angelo was exactly where it needed to be.

The following morning, the soft clink of Angelo’s keys echoed through their small kitchen as he got his things ready for work. He was already dressed in his crisp suit, his tie neatly adjusted, preparing for another day at the law firm. She, on the other hand, was in her scrubs, packing her bag for her shift at the hospital.

She was tying her trainers when she saw him glance at her, his eyes focused on his phone.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. “You seem a little quiet this morning.”

She shrugged, setting her bag down on the counter. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

It was only a half-lie. She had hardly slept last night after receiving Franco’s invitation. The words had stuck with her, gnawing at her thoughts, replaying in her mind like a loop she couldn’t escape.

“What’s up?” Angelo asked, watching her intently, his brow furrowing slightly.

She hesitated, then sighed and reached for her phone, pulling up the email Franco had sent her. She handed it to him without a word.

Angelo read it in silence, his eyes scanning the screen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but somehow, she already knew that he would have an opinion on it.

Finally, he set the phone down and looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. “He’s getting married, huh? I didn;’t believe it when I saw it on the news.” he said softly.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly, as if the words themselves felt like an admission. “I guess he thought I should know.”

“You’re not planning on going, are you?” Angelo asked, his voice laced with concern.

She shook her head, biting her lip. “He’s my past now. It doesn’t matter. It’s… it’s not something I need to revisit.”

Angelo nodded, his eyes softening as he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He knew how much Franco had meant to her—how he had once been the centre of her world. But that was years ago. And he had never once doubted that she was now his world.

“I haven’t seen Franco since we were sixteen,” Angelo said, his tone thoughtful. “I know things between you and him ended... well, the way they did. But maybe it might be good to go. For closure. For you, if nothing else.”

She met his eyes, her gaze wavering. “Closure?” she repeated, almost incredulously. “I don’t need closure, Angelo. I moved on a long time ago.”

“I know,” Angelo said, his voice gentle but firm. “But I think sometimes it’s easy to say we’ve moved on, that we’re over things. But there are pieces of our past that stick with us, no matter how much time passes. Maybe seeing him—seeing that life—will help you put the final chapter behind you. Don’t you think?”

She was quiet for a long moment, turning the idea over in her head. It made sense, in a way. The past had never quite been put to rest, even if she had buried it deep. Maybe it wasn’t about Franco anymore. Maybe it was about facing what had happened, about finding peace with it, once and for all.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I don’t want it to mess with what we have, Angelo. I don’t want to go and be reminded of something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Angelo smiled softly, taking her hand in his. “It won’t. I promise. You’re the one I want, mi amor You’re the one who matters. Whatever happened back then, whatever Franco was, that’s not us. It’s not our life. But if this is something you think you need to do, then I’ll be there with you. I want you to have the closure you need.”

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. Angelo had always been like that—steady, understanding, and so patient with her. He never pushed her to forget, but he also didn’t hold her to the past. He was the one who made her feel safe, who built her the life she was proud of, and the thought of him beside her through whatever this was made her feel like she could take on anything.

With a slow, hesitant breath, she met his eyes. “You’re right. Maybe it would be good to go. I don’t know what I’ll feel when I see him, but I think... I think I can handle it now.”

Angelo smiled, squeezing her hand. “Then we’ll go. Together.”

She nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. The decision was made, and it was time to let go of the last remnants of the past. Franco and his life—whatever that was now—could stay in the past, but she wouldn’t be running from it anymore.

“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “For always being here.”

“Always,” Angelo replied, his voice warm. “Now go. You don’t want to be late for your shift.”

She smiled at him one last time before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. The wedding was still months away, but somehow, her world felt just a little bit more at peace now.

Three months later

The morning of the wedding, the soft rays of the sun filtered through the curtains of their hotel suite, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress as Angelo adjusted his cufflinks in the reflection behind her. The air was filled with a quiet sense of anticipation. It had been a few months since she agreed to come to the wedding, and now, standing in this luxurious hotel in the heart of the Mediterranean, she could feel the surrealness of it all.

She was here. With him. With Angelo.

He caught her gaze in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice tender.

She smiled back, her heart swelling with a quiet joy. Angelo was always so calm, so steady, and he knew exactly how to make her feel loved without needing to say much. The simple moments like this were the ones that made her certain that their life together, their future, was the right one.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He was perfect in every way. “You look handsome, as usual,” she added with a smile.

He chuckled softly. “I try,” he teased, adjusting the hem of his suit jacket before stepping forward to take her hand. “Are you ready for this? I know it’s been a long time coming.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. I’m ready. It’s just… it’s strange. You know? We’re not the same people we were three years ago. And I feel like I’m finally letting go of that past. I just need to do it, for me. And for us.”

“Whatever you need, you have it,” Angelo said, his voice unwavering, filled with a quiet strength.

She smiled at him, grateful for his support. They had come so far, and no matter what happened today, she knew she was in the right place.

“I’m going to step outside for a second,” she said, pulling away from him gently. “I’m going to grab a photo of the schedule. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Angelo replied, watching her with those warm, reassuring eyes.

She stepped into the corridor of the hotel, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She pulled out her phone, navigating to the event details to snap a photo of the ceremony’s schedule. The hallway was quiet, save for the distant chatter of guests below and the hum of preparations for the wedding in the distance. The excitement was palpable in the air, but in this moment, everything felt calm.

That was until she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

She turned around, feeling her heart give a small, unexpected jolt when she saw him.

Franco.

He was standing there, half-dressed in a black tuxedo with his shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, his tie still loose around his neck. He looked just like he did three years ago—handsome, dishevelled in the way that made him seem effortlessly charming.

Her stomach tightened.

“You came,” he said, his voice soft with surprise. 

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before forcing a calm smile. “I said I would,” she replied evenly. Her heart beat just a little faster, but she kept her expression neutral.

He looked at her, his gaze a little more intense than she remembered, and she couldn’t quite place the mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. There was something unspoken there, something she hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t think you’d follow through,” he added, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

She didn’t know what to make of that. She shrugged. “I thought I’d at least be polite.”

A silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and thick with everything that had been left unsaid over the years. Franco’s gaze drifted toward the floor for a moment before he looked back up at her, his jaw tense, and his voice was almost pleading when he spoke.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his words hesitant.

She hesitated, feeling her pulse quicken. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to go back to the past—didn’t want to open that door again.

“I’d rather not,” she said, her tone firm, though her heart was beating harder than she cared to admit.

Franco’s expression softened. “It’s been three years. Three years overdue, don’t you think?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, the weight of everything hanging between them. She didn’t owe him anything, and yet, a part of her—perhaps the part that had loved him—knew there was still something lingering. Something that she hadn’t been able to shake off.

She finally gave a soft sigh, one that carried all the weariness of the years that had passed. “Fine,” she said quietly, her shoulders sagging slightly in resignation. “But just for a minute. I don’t have time to rehash everything.”

“Thank you,” Franco murmured, stepping forward as he gestured down the hallway. “My room’s just down here. I won’t keep you long.”

They walked down the corridor in silence, the weight of the moment sinking in. She wasn’t sure what she expected from this conversation, but she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not for either of them. When they reached his room, Franco opened the door and stepped aside to let her in.

It was a modest suite, far removed from the lavish ceremony unfolding just downstairs. The quiet of the room seemed to accentuate the tension between them. He closed the door behind them, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice distant as he turned to face her. “Water? A drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

There was a long pause. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous. For the first time in a long while, he seemed uncertain.

“So…” Franco began, taking a breath, “I guess this is awkward, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice steady, but her insides were churning. “A little.”

Before she even had a chance to settle with what she was doing, he shot her straight to the heart with the words that came out of his mouth.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I did, but that wasn’t ever my intention. You were always there for me, and I should’ve done better. I should’ve realised…”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that was all too familiar. He seemed to be gathering the courage to say something, but when he spoke, his words were not what she expected.

“I should’ve told you,” he started, voice low, almost regretful. “I should have told you that I loved you.”

She blinked, her chest tightening as she took in the weight of his words. “Don’t,” she said quickly, cutting him off. Her voice was sharp, a defence mechanism against the rawness he was trying to expose. “You can’t do that. You can’t come here and say things like that after all this time. It’s... it’s mean.”

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I should’ve told you,” he repeated, his voice thick with something she couldn’t quite place—guilt, perhaps? Regret?

She shook her head, unable to stop herself from responding. “Why are you still with her, then?” Her voice trembled slightly, the question feeling more like a challenge than a simple inquiry. She thought of how excited she must be right now getting ready, while he was confessing his love to his childhood best friend. She wondered whether she knew.

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his eyes flickered away, as though he was ashamed of the truth he was about to speak. “It’s easier to pretend to love her,” he admitted, his voice flat. “It’s easier than facing the truth.”

“Than what?” she asked, her words cutting through the air, her eyes locking onto his. “Than admitting you love me?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Franco’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, a hesitation lingering between them. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he exhaled deeply, as if trying to gather the strength to continue.

“You don’t understand,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. I still don’t.”

She looked at him, biting her lip, trying to keep herself from breaking. “You can’t do this,” she said, her voice cracking with frustration. “You don’t get to walk back into my life now and make me feel like I was some... some second choice. You don’t get to say things that undo everything we went through.”

Franco’s gaze darkened, but his next words were even more dangerous. “Say it, and I’ll leave her,” he said, his voice low and intense, as if he were testing her. “Say you want me the same way you wanted me three summers ago, and I’ll do it. I’ll walk away from her. I’ll choose you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttering in her chest. The temptation was there—familiar, painful, and so very dangerous. She could feel that old longing tug at her, the part of her that had loved him so fiercely, so deeply. But this wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t the girl who would wait around for him to realise what he’d lost.

“I can’t,” she whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I can’t do that anymore. I’m happy now. I’m happy with Angelo.”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, and for a moment, it felt like she had to convince herself of them. But as she looked into Franco’s eyes—still searching, still wanting—she realised that she meant it. She really did.

Franco’s face fell, his expression a mixture of frustration and defeat. “You don’t understand,” he said again, the words sounding more like a plea. “I never stopped loving you.”

She took a step back, shaking her head, trying to clear the emotions that were spiralling inside of her. “No,” she said firmly, her voice resolute. “You don’t get to say that, Franco. Not now. Not when I’ve spent three years getting over all of this. You don’t get to come here and break my heart all over again.”

For a long moment, they stood there, the space between them filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. But it was over. It had to be.

“I can’t undo what happened,” she added softly, her gaze not leaving his. “But I’m not that girl anymore. And I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Franco didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The weight of everything they’d been through hung heavy between them, and it was clear now that nothing could fix it. Not words. Not promises.

She turned to leave, her hand on the doorknob, but before she could step out of the room, she paused, glancing over her shoulder one last time.

“I’m happy now, Fran,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite everything. “And you need to figure out what makes you happy too. But I can’t be part of that anymore.”

She opened the door and stepped out, not looking back, not giving him the chance to say anything more.

The wedding was beautiful.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the guests who had gathered for the wedding. The ceremony was set to take place on the terrace of the luxurious hotel overlooking the sea, the soft sound of waves lapping against the rocks below barely audible amidst the murmur of excited chatter.

She sat there, a few rows back from the front, Angelo by her side. The venue was beautiful—everything that was supposed to be perfect for a wedding. The guests were in their best attire, the flowers were arranged in pristine perfection, and the atmosphere felt like a dream. But something was off. A low hum of anxiety had been building ever since the music started, and she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Franco was supposed to be standing at the altar now. But he wasn’t.

She stole a glance at Angelo, who was sitting quietly beside her, a reassuring hand on her knee. He could sense her unease.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice almost drowned out by the gentle clinking of glasses and conversations around them.

She nodded, but her eyes drifted nervously toward the aisle. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Something feels wrong.”

The minutes dragged on. The officiant glanced at his watch, confusion spreading across his face as he leaned over to whisper something to the bridesmaids. There was no sign of Franco, and the guests were beginning to exchange worried glances. The tension in the air became palpable, the excitement of the ceremony suddenly replaced by a growing sense of discomfort.

After a few more minutes, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She turned to Angelo, her voice barely above a whisper, but her anxiety was thick in her words. “Do you think he’s going to come?”

Angelo squeezed her hand gently, his gaze soft and understanding. “I don’t know, cariño. Maybe something’s happened. He’s probably just... running late.”

But as they exchanged those quiet words, it became clear that it wasn’t just a delay. The guests were shifting in their seats, some starting to murmur under their breath, the ceremony now holding a sense of surreal anticipation.

And then, just as the whispers reached a crescendo, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind. Everyone turned, their heads swivelling as they saw him—Franco. He was walking down the aisle, his face pale, his expression one of guilt and uncertainty. He wasn’t in a rush, though. It was as if he was taking his time, as though he had already made a decision.

The room fell silent as Franco reached the front. He looked out at the gathering of faces—his family, his friends, all of them waiting for the moment when he would say "I do." But he didn’t speak immediately.

He was struggling with the words, and she could feel the weight of the tension from across the room. Her heart raced, confusion and disbelief washing over her as she watched him take a deep breath, his eyes scanning the crowd before finally locking on the bride’s family sitting in the front row.

“Excuse me,” Freddie’s voice broke through the silence, shaky but loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m sorry for the disruption,” he continued, his eyes darting nervously between the bride and the guests. “I... I can’t do this. I can’t marry her.”

The air seemed to stop in that moment. His words hung like an echo, the shock rippling through the crowd. She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding in her chest as Freddie stood there, his face flushed with embarrassment, his hands trembling at his sides.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could,” he went on, his voice quiet but steady, “but I can’t marry her when I love someone else.” His gaze shifted to her, and for a split second, their eyes met. The pain, the regret, the history of everything they had been—it was all there in that single glance. But she didn’t feel anything but exhaustion. It was like watching someone else’s dream unravel.

The guests were murmuring, unsure of how to respond. His bride, stood by the doors he’d just walked in from, ready to walk down the aisle frozen and unmoving. Shelooked like she was about to collapse, her face pale as she took in the words that no one had expected.

“I’m sorry, I just—” Franco continued, his voice breaking, “I can’t do it. I can’t go through with it. I’m sorry. I—I just can’t.”

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, stepping down from the altar, leaving the bride standing alone, abandoned in front of everyone.

The room was filled with stunned silence.

Angelo reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as the reality of what had just unfolded sank in. She didn’t know how to feel—didn’t know what to think. Her chest ached with a strange mixture of relief and guilt, but most of all, there was a numbness that began to set in.

And then, just as quickly as Franco had walked away, he was gone, disappearing behind the closed doors of the venue, leaving a trail of shock in his wake. The ceremony was over before it had even begun.

She couldn’t help herself.

The guilt she felt in her stomach was strong.

It was her fault.

the end.

an: actual an, im sorry guys! i was feeling sad so i wrote this muahhah

tags: @obxstiles @charlosvibesonly @zestytimbit @taygrls

[melancholicstation]

God bless America and all the beautiful women in it —husband!jack schlossberg comfort headcanon's

jack schlossberg fan fiction is for the lovers

WIFE!READER returns and is the orion carloto archetype, who balances modelling and writing, and i imagine her making tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce on tiktok.

taglist: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl

no matter the stressor husband!jack literally treats it as a top-priority emergency

immediately goes to start a bath for you in your gorgeous copper bathtub (cause of course you have a copper bathtub ... duh) with some suzzane kaufman bath salt's that he picked up down in greenwich after a meeting with vogue's magazine department.

husband!jack is a freak for baths and it's rubbed off on you ... seriously like that man takes baths multiple times a week, on top of daily showers

if he had to be out on a day you were particularly anxious for whatever reason he would come home with a laundry bag of new tasteful yet cute stuffed animals from loewe and never tell you the prices cause he knows you'd crash out

is great at being a body pillow and has no shame just laying in silence together for hours

would try to make you feel better by getting the overpriced (not in your opinion) criterion subscription just so you could watch vintage halloween movies without running a risk of getting hacked on some third-party sketchy website

would 100% let you live in his clothes while he was out of the house so you could feel comforted even if he wasn't physically near

would absolutely try to distract you with light comedy, despite his cockiness he is indeed a funny guy so it helps slightly

husband!jack would be such a proponent of a healthy mind is a healthy body so he'd make you go do jump rope with him (cause why does jump roping have to be so humiliating) or even worse takes you out to paddle board, like imagine your knee-deep in that melancholic state where you only read plath novels and listen to unreleased lana and your boyfriend drags you out to go paddle boarding???? like cmon now

you do feel better afterwards but you would never tell him that

if you guys owned any pets together he would without a doubt tell you he's going to be out for a couple of hours and come back with one of those portrait paintings of house-pets to cheer you up (editors note: vang olsen mimi does the most delightful pet paintings if your in greenwich!)

he would absolutely NOT be above trying to self-medicate your problems (within reason) by smoking w*ed with you or sharing a cigar being the chicest couple ever!

would 100% smother you in delightfully soft cashmere blankets in the pattern of gorgeous tapestries

would earnestly read poems (robert frost, emily dickinson, and shakespeare) to you to get you to sleep on the especially hard days

is a devout optimist and routinely talks you out of your doom scrolling

always holds space for whatever emotions you are feeling but always wants to provide solutions to your problems

and when he encounters a problem he can't so easily fix he invests time into getting your mind off it and plans steps you can take to lessen the hold whatever your stressing about has on you

writes mini impromptu love letters/pep talks on the empty spaces in your agenda notebook (wife!reader would totally own more than 1 of these louise carmen organisers in an apropos shade of autumn scarlet )

encourages you to do self-care rituals with your staple skincare products by letting you do the exact same steps on him

while husband!jack cooks for you both you read him your favourite chapters of "democracy" by joan didion in the kitchen every night and it remains a pillar in your routine despite the tumult

during your hard times jack is serving peak husbandry doing the washing, cooking and cleaning

when he's on his lunch break at the office you get text messages like this:

always makes sure that you take your medication (if you take any) at the exact times its supposed to be at and has little alarms on his phone

husband!jack would increase his acts of service to 1000% like that man would be taking your row boots into the cobbler for a new sole

would bring home flowers without a special occasion, just cause

would without a doubt bring out those STELLAR accents just to see you smile

disclaimer: this is all obviously fiction and i do not know this man nor how he calms anyone down, this is all for some fun distraction in these trying times.

to anyone struggling with the results and its ramifications (same here) i would really encourage you to read this beautiful (free) essay from alanabanaxox on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/i-miss-dancing-115580140?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_fan&utm_content=web_share

[retroaria]

hiii!!!! congrats on 1.5k omg!! could i get the dialogue nsfw no. 4 with chuuya (and maybe dazai if u feel like it) with sub!fem!reader please? tysm!!

₊˚⊹♡ Chuuya Nakahara x sub!fem!reader ₊˚⊹♡

a/n: cliffhanger lol bc i love leaving the smut up to your imagination 😌

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

There was an uncanny stillness in the air surrounding Yokohama tonight. It was thin, breezy, serene - the streets were quiet and clean. “Chuu~ did you have something planned for us tonight?” you leaned against your door as you held it open, your eyes flickered up and down Chuuya’s figure before you. “It’s awfully quiet out…”

A sly smirk spread across his face as he reached out to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, “Wouldn’t want anyone dying on date night, all operations are at a halt. You’ve got me all night darling.” he cooed at you, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into your sides. “Are you ready to go?”

“You lead the way.” you tilted your head up and spoke into his ear, teasingly. His hand shifted to your lower back, guiding you out the door.

Chuuya didn’t get to spend nights like this with you often. His position in the mafia demanded his full devotion, and you knew this when you decided to entangle yourself in his madness. You meet with him in shadows as he passes through, or you’ll wake up some mornings in his arms, left to wonder how he snuck in the night before. He often would apologize profusely for his shortcomings as a partner, though you both know you couldn’t leave each other no matter how distant you felt.

On occasion, life would slow down, and Chuuya would find a way to arrange a single night where he isn’t needed. He’d call you in the morning, tell you to dress up as nice as you please, and by nightfall, there he was at your doorstep - roses in hand and a smile on his face. These clandestine meetings gave you time in between to yearn and long for each other. It made every touch feel electric, and every teasing word that melted off his tongue pool into your panties.

The night was beautiful as always, Chuuya Nakahara wouldn’t be caught dead doing anything less than extravagant for the woman he loves. A candlelit dinner, a piano playing softly throughout the room, a bottle of his finest liquor, and his hand holding yours across the table as he gazes into your eyes and listens to you speak. You spent the evening getting blissfully lost in each others presence, your temptations aided by the alcohol.

Eventually you found yourselves stumbling slightly through the streets back to your apartment, hand in hand, clingy closely to each other. He recounted a recent mission, pride and righteousness laced in his words. Chuuya was nothing but a punk who made it big in the criminal underground, surely no one in your life would approve of your relationship with him, but that only made it all the more fun. No one could rile you up this much, keep you on your toes and at the edge of your seat - ready to release every inhibition upon his command. As you neared your building, he wrapped his arm snug around your waist and pulled you close, excitement and anticipation bubbling up inside you.

You fumbled with your keys as Chuuya pushed his body up against your backside, his warm breath trailing down your neck as he nibbled playfully on your ear. “Someone’s antsy…” you said just above a whisper as you finally pushed the right key in and opened the door.

“I only have but so much time with you doll, I think we better to make the most of every second…” he said, lacing his fingers with yours as he let your guide him into your apartment. As soon as the door shut he practically yanked you into his arms, his fingertips tilting your chin up to face him, “…that is, if you’ll allow me?” he smirked at you expectantly, his thumb tracing down your jawline before moving to gently rub your cheek.

“Whatever you want…” you muttered out, entranced by his seductive touch and gaze. You aren’t even sure how it happened, he wrapped you up in his cloud of lust, and you came back to as your back fell softly against the bed sheets. Chuuya kneeled on the bed before, sat perfectly between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs to your hips.

He slipped his hands under your shirt, smoothing against the skin of your body underneath as he hummed in delight. You sat up slightly and lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head and toss it to the side, his hands supported your back and he pulled you into a passionate kiss as you worked on undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You both worked your way through each others clothes, you pulled down his boxers and watched his cock perk up against his stomach- his tip slightly leaking in anticipation. Chuuya stopped abruptly once he had you in your bra and panties. He took in the view before using his hands to pray open your legs, squeezing gently at the fat of your thighs. His fingertips grazing down until they met your clothed core, pressing slightly through the fabric of your panties. Your breath hitched and his eyes darted up at you. “Is this where you need me baby?” he said to you softly, playing with the hem of your panties teasingly.

You hummed in approval, shaking your head a bit as your hips gently grinded up further into his touch. He pulled his hand away and placed it firm against your chest, sliding up until his fingers were wrapped loosely around your neck. “Use your words doll, tell me where you need me.”

He’s barely even touched you and he’s already taken your breath away, your hips buck slightly again, “Hmph~ anywhere chuu, please…” you pleaded. His eyes darkened a bit.

“Anywhere I want?” the devilish smile he flashed down at you was painfully hot, you wanted to instinctively shut your legs for some amount of friction as you felt your wetness pooling in your panties.

“Anywhere…touch me anywhere chuu~” your approval was all he needed to finally begin playing with you as he pleased. He pulled your panties down, lifting your legs above his head so he could pluck them off and toss them to the ground. He kept one hand wrapped around you neck as he trailed the other down your thigh, feeling the gentle pulse of your nerves the closer he got to where you needed him most.

Finally, his fingertips made there way down to your heat, pushing through your folds and rubbing against your entrance, collecting your arousal to spread up towards your clit. As he drew slow circles on your bundle of nerves you let your eyes flutter shut in pleasure. You could feel his hand around your neck tighten.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” he said sternly, increasing the pressure of his fingers rubbing against your clit. Your eyes met his and you were immediately pulled into his lusty gaze, your vision locked on him as you whimpered at his touch. He released your neck hesitantly, only to use his other hand to plunge two of his slender fingers into your gushing entrance. You rolled your hips into his hands, egging him on to speed up his thrusts. He curled his digits into your sweet spot and prodded at it roughly, continuing his movements on your clit and nearly pushing you over the edge. “I want you to look at me while you cum all over my hands princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

Your eyes darted down to watch his hands work your cunt and you could see his cock hanging eagerly over the sheets, his tip red and plump, a subtle white glaze precum dripping down into his shaft. Your mind filled with dirty visions of his cock pumping rope after rope of his hot seed into your weeping cunt. Your body squirmed and tosses under his touch and you looked back up at him, brows furrowed and rolling slightly back. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he sped up all his movements.

Chuuya groaned as he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. He removed his hand from your clit and brought it back up to wrap around your neck, his other hand continued finger fucking you so rough you could feel yourself tipping over the edge. You stomach fluttered and your hips lifted slightly. You brought your hand up to wrap around his bicep, your nails digging into him as your orgasm washed over you. You moaned out and he watched you fall apart beneath him with his mouth slightly ajar, looking at you like he was ready to devour you whole.

He rode you down from your high, removing his fingers from your hole and rubbing gently through your folds. He leaned down and kissed your neck, trailing his kisses up until he reached your soft lips. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away, quickly replacing his mouth with the fingers you came around moments ago, pushing them past your lips and swirling them around your tongue. “Mmm~ good girl, taste all that cum I fucked out of you…”

He reached his other hand down to slowly pump his throbbing cock, swiping his thumb over his leaking tip with a low groan. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and gripped your hip firmly, he rubbed his cock through your slick folds and moaned, his tip swiping back and forth against your clit. You squirmed beneath him, overstimulated, and he chuckled down at you.

“I’m hardly done with you baby, I know you can take it all for me tonight, isn’t that right?” he said as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

“Y-yes, Chuu~” you cooed at him. He reached one hand up to caress your cheek gently as he looked down at you with a mixture of lust and adoration.

“Good girl, now let me make you feel good princess…”

[sakashq]

Too Late. 𐙚 kenan yildiz x fem!oc

🪬 summary. In which Isabel has never experienced love and doesn’t know what to expect of it. Once she’s shown it, she doesn’t know what to do.

🪬 face claim. this story is based on a work i had published on wattpad but have since unpublished. qlorify IS me guys i’m not stealing💔. she was a black woman in the book so i still fully see her as one here, but imagine isa as you please.

🪬 yap! I hate my ex. but i also miss him. so this is my current feelings for him written as someone else for someone else🤗. to my favorite divas who unfortunately have to go through this weird ass break up with me! @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @planetpedri @halfwayhearted 🩵

Isabel was not one to love. She just wanted to feel loved. She hadn’t yet met someone that was worthy of her love, past situations failing on the guy’s end. Love was such a strange concept for Isabel, the girl never being shot by one of Cupid’s arrows. Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t worthy of an arrow, watching everyone around her except her fall in love with their forever.

It wasn’t like there was something wrong with Isabel. She was beautiful—talented, too. Would do anything to make someone feel the way she wanted to feel, even if love was too strong and too terrifying for her.

She considered it ‘like-like’, more than liking someone, but not as much as loving them. Loving someone felt too scary, as she knew if she grew attached she wouldn’t be able to let go. And Isa wasn’t one to take no for an answer.

That’s why she couldn’t love. She’d get too attached and lose herself in that person. Who knows, if they were really worthy of her love, she’d destroy herself for them. It was like a lose/lose situation; if Isa loved, she’d lose herself. If she didn’t, she’d lose that person.

Well, this was all before him.

Someway somehow, Kenan had something different to him. He wasn’t like the other guys who wanted Isa. Personality wise, sure, but still. Something was off.

She didn’t know it at the time, but he was starting to develop feelings. They’d seen each other several times by this point, even going as far as texting everyday. He was doing what Isabel feared the most; falling in love.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Kenan was not falling in love with Isa. He fully thought he was, the idea of being with her being something he constantly thought about and highly considered. She was beautiful—talented, too. There was nothing he couldn’t like about her. Her flaws seemed like ghosts, being there but not seen. Maybe had he caught it he would’ve realized she was falling in love.

This scared Isa. She had never fallen in love with anyone. What made Kenan so different?

This scared Kenan. He had tried love a few times and desperately wanted it with Isabel, so why couldn’t he? There was something wrong with him, something so irrevocably wrong that he begun to hate himself for it.

He didn’t know it at the time, but he was scared of love with Isa.

She didn’t know it at the time, but she was scared of not loving Kenan.

He came to her door with flowers, as he had done once every week to convince himself that he really did love her. She answered as she always did, a bright smile on her face and her heart beating out of her chest.

“Hi,” she continued to smile, her stomach feeling like it was trying to crawl it’s way up to her heart.

“Hi,” he repeated back to her, a smile on his face. Why couldn’t he love her as she did him?

“Come in.”

He did as she said, putting the bouquet in their designated vase. “What’d you do today?” He inquired, hoping that conversation would plant a seed in him that would blossom into love for the girl.

“Nothing much. You?” She responded, sitting down at her counter. He sat next to her, their chairs facing each other.

“Bought your flowers.” They both chuckled. One with love, the other with anxiety.

“They’re beautiful, per usual. Thank you, Kenan.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He was so handome, she didn’t know if she could stop loving him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was so pretty, why couldn’t he love her?

They hung out for a while, soon moving to the couch. He had his arm around her, she had her head on his shoulder.

“Kenan,” she spoke softly.

“Hmm?” He replied, taking his eyes off the movie in front of him and looking at her.

Her eyes met his and she melted into him. “I’m scared.”

“Why?” His voice was filled with genuine concern. Why didn’t see feel safe with him? Was this his fault? What did he do wrong?

“I… I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. And it scares me.”

He tensed up and froze. What? She loved him? No, no, no, this couldn’t be. She couldn’t love him. He couldn’t even love her! How could someone afraid of love make an exception for someone who didn’t feel the same?

“I’m sorry, that was way too forward,” Isabel frowned, moving out of his arms. “I didn’t mean…”

“Hey,” he held onto her, using his hand to guide her head to look at him. “It’s okay. I feel the same way.” That was a lie. He didn’t even know what he wanted.

Her face lit up, her brown eyes shining brightly against the TV glow. “Really?”

He smiled at her seeing her excitement, wishing he could share it with her. “Of course.” He kissed her gently, their soft lips connecting. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this.

“What does this mean now?” Isa asked after a few moments.

“What?” He knew what she was asking. He just didn’t know what to say.

“I mean… you love me, I love you. What’s that mean for us?” She questioned.

He had to ask her the question now, if he didn’t he’d seem like an asshole. He already told her that he’s in love with her, might as well right? “We… Can I be your boyfriend?”

It was already set in motion; it was too late. Kenan was now stuck.

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

The Rivalry Born of Hatred-Jude Bellingham

The air was tense in the Santiago Bernabéu, the atmosphere vibrant as always when Real Madrid faced one of their most formidable rivals. But that night, there was a particular reason for Jude Bellingham to make the game even more interesting. It was not the match between Real Madrid and Barcelona, but a match between the two women’s teams, the stars of their respective rivals who were playing on the field.

Jude was sitting in the stands, with Vinícius and Mbappé by his side, but his eyes were fixed on you, who was coming out on the field with the Barcelona shirt. Your movements were powerful, elegant, impeccable. There was no doubt: you were one of the best players in the world, and despite Real Madrid courting you for years, you always refused, preferring to stay in Barcelona.

"My God, look how he plays," observed Vinícius, noticing that Jude’s eyes did not leave the field. " Who’s the one that keeps you glued to the screen like this?"

Kylian, who was also watching with curiosity, added: "Yes, it really looks like a war machine."

Jude, surprised by his own interest, rose slightly from his chair, his heart beating faster than he would admit. He didn’t understand why he was so fascinated by you. Not only were you a world-class player, but you were also his rival, the embodiment of everything he hated as a Real Madrid fan. Yet, there was something about you that attracted him irresistibly.

"I don’t care how good she is," said Jude, trying to hide her interest, "she’s the most hated player in our club."

Vinícius and Mbappé exchanged a look, smiling complicit. " Eh, but look she is looking at you too," said Vinícius with a funny smile, noting that you, in turn, had cast a sneaky glance towards the stands where he and his companions sat.

"Don’t say anything foolish," Jude replied, trying to hide a smile she couldn’t hold back.

The game continued, but Jude kept staring at you, admiring your agility, strength and determination. Every time you touched a ball, it seemed like time stopped. Your style of play seemed to convey an energy that he couldn’t explain, and he soon realized that he was paying much more attention to you than to the game itself.

When the game ended, and Barcelona won with a dominant performance, Jude couldn’t get you out of his head. His friends had noticed his gaze, and although he tried to minimize it, it was too obvious.

"You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?" Kylian joked, laughing.

Jude, a little embarrassed, ran his hand through his hair. "No," he said, but his voice was uncanny.

That night, when they were in their dressing room, Jude’s thoughts were only for you. He hated you, or at least he wanted to believe that, but his heart and mind were in conflict. He could not tell if it was the rivalry that fueled his interest, or if there was something deeper going on between them, an attraction he would never have imagined.

"Guys, I know I don’t like to talk about these things," Jude began, speaking to Vinícius and Kylian, "but... what do you think of her? That girl from Barcelona?"

Vinícius and Kylian exchanged another look, aware of what was happening, and Vinícius, with a mischievous smile, said: "Oh, Jude... you fell in love with your enemy, huh? But we understand you, it’s hard to resist her beauty and talent."

Jude chuckled nervously, but his smile died when his teammates added: "But you know she’s a Barcelona player, right? It won’t be so easy."

[mariaofdoranelle]

Stage Kiss

Written for Throne of Glass Microfics

This accidentally ended up the size of two microfics but I’m tagging you if you’ll still have me @throneofglassmicrofics

Prompts: mainly indulge but I ended up using mayhem too

Warning: teenagers

Words: 1,9k 🫣

1st run

Today, at 3:30 p.m., Rowan would kiss Aelin Galathynius on the cheek.

Pathetically enough, this little knowledge was on the forefront of his mind all day. Not his classes, no. Just Aelin’s ivory—occasionally rosy—cheek.

“Whitethorn!” Fenrys shouted in the hallway several steps behind, forcing him to turn and stop so his friend could catch up. “Looking good,” Fen said, playfully slapping the back of his hand against Rowan’s bicep.

Rowan rolled his eyes. He thought that going to the gym every day—plus taking supplements behind his mom’s back—would magically make him more confident. It didn’t. The only difference was that he looked slightly less thin, so now Fenrys occasionally catcalls him and reacts to his IG stories with the flame emoji.

Even worse, Remelle Wiselheade was now hitting on him. His plan to get Aelin’s attention absolutely backfired.

As if he was a mind-reader, Fenrys said, “And how does it feel to be Aelin’s husband?”

Rowan blinked. “Uh…”

“I mean in the play!” Fenrys threw his head back and cackled, then urged them towards the school theater. “Bro, you’re—“

“I obviously knew that!” Rowan said, defensive.

He was just taking theater classes because his mom thought it’d help him with the shyness. But Aelin? Aelin Galathynius could give Margot Robbie a good run for her money—in both talent and beauty.

If enduring his crush on her during classes wasn’t enough, they were acting as husband and wife for this play.

And it required him to kiss her on the cheek.

He was glad that Mr. Emrys, their drama teacher, had a no-kids-kissing-on-stage policy. Rowan was half a lip virgin—that thing with Lyria didn’t count—and while having an almost first kiss with Aelin would’ve been great, he wasn’t looking forward to a very public cardiovascular malfunction.

Once inside, he quickly found her by a wall with Nehemia. Aelin didn’t see him at first, but he slowed his pace to look at her better, making Fenrys—who was right behind him—trip and take Rowan down with him. Not down, since both recovered before falling face-first on the floor, but the whole thing was loud enough that now he had Aelin’s attention. At the worst moment imaginable.

She smiled at him and sent a tiny wave, and by the poorly hidden smirk on Nehemia’s face—very similar to Fenrys’—she must’ve figured out his crush on Aelin. She had to. Nehemia Ytger was one of the smartest people he knew, he just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut for now.

Once everyone gathered around Mr. Emrys and he gave them directions for today, the first rehearsal for Hamlet began.

It passed like a blur until the scene arrived.

[Modified Act 1, Scene 2]

The court gathers. Claudius stands before the throne—simple practice chairs, actually—with Gertrude at his side. Hamlet watches from a distance, looking somber and disapproving.

Rowan didn’t want to read too much into why he learned even the narration. He turned to his “court” and said:

Though my dear brother’s death is fresh in memory, we must also move forward.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Gently holding Aelin’s hand, Rowan swallowed and almost froze when it was time, but her encouraging smile propelled him further.

He might’ve just dipped in and out, but feeling her skin under his lips was the quickest yet longest second of his life.

His cheek kiss was followed by deafening silence. For a second Rowan thought he’d embarrassed himself somehow, until he found everyone staring at Fenrys, waiting for Hamlet.

His friend looked like a deer in the headlights.

“I forgot.”

“A little more than kin, and less than kind, Moonbeam.” Mr. Emrys took a calming breath. “Let’s do another run of this scene, shall we?”

2nd run

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Rowan took Aelin’s hand again. Both experience and her open expression made him kiss her cheek more confidently this time, and he was calm enough to enjoy the moment.

The same awkward silence again.

“Mr. E, I have ADHD,” Fenrys protested, though the twitch in the corners of his mouth betrayed the seriousness. “Don’t you think it’s a bit fascist of you to make me learn all these lines in medieval?”

It’s called ‘Early Modern Common Tongue’, Moonbeam. You’ll learn with practice.” Mr. Emrys settled back into his seat. “Let’s do another run.”

4th run

By now, Rowan was very well practiced in kissing Aelin’s cheek.

Because of the political nature of their characters’ marriage, a greater actor would make Claudius give Gertrude a triumphant look rather than a fond one, but if Mr. Emrys wanted a great actor, he should’ve thought twice before casting Rowan.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

As practiced, he reverently took Aelin’s hand and leaned in for the cheek kiss.

But she turned her head. The spot on her cheek that he focused on became a blur, and before he could grasp the situation, he felt the softness of her lips in his.

An awkward miscalculation on her part.

Or was it?

The way Rowan jerked back in surprise made their peck quicker than the other kisses.

“Whitethorn!” Mr. Emrys called, one finger pointed at him. “That was supposed to be on the cheek, mister.”

He froze, glancing wide-eyed between the teacher and Aelin’s mischievous look. He could protest and clarify that she was the one to incite the kiss, but that would just be loser—worse, virgin—behavior.

Rowan may be both, but he sure wasn’t acting like it.

With the snickers that came from the students, their teacher’s stance relaxed. He slowly shook his head and muttered, “Teenagers,” as a chuckle escaped him.

5th run

Rowan was determined to return Aelin’s peck, which meant that now stakes were higher. This time, he was even more nervous than before the rehearsal started.

She is cute. Rowan really likes her. And she kissed him first.

And this self-pep talk was shit at calming him down.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Instead of holding her hand, Rowan held her jaw instead. By their silent exchange, she had an inkling of what was coming, and her expression seemed welcoming. A quick brush of his thumb as another warning, and he leaned in.

Pillowy soft lips briefly against his was a brief shoot to the skies and back.

It was quick. It was glorious. The sweet, sticky feel of her lipgloss was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“A little more than kind, and—“

“Gods, Fenrys, it’s kin!” Nehemia shouted from the sidelines, distracting the teacher enough to forget about the kiss.

After this, Mr. Emrys stopped complaining—he had bigger battles to fight.

7th run

After their third kiss—plus four on the cheek—Rowan began to wonder if it was too soon for a “What are we?” conversation.

Maybe he should ask her out.

Scratch that, he was absolutely asking her out. If he got rejected, life would go on—after he changed schools.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Rowan stroke her cheek with his thumb and leaned in once again for their peck, but once he did, Aelin threaded her fingers through his hair and kept him there, tilted her head. She waited a second for his response, then retreated once it didn’t come.

Shit. Was this—

With hawk-like speed, Rowan grasped her face with both hands before she could draw back and… well, it was too much of a whirlwind inside his head to make sense of what was going on. All he knew was exploring tongues and her hands on his neck and his heart that threatened to leap out of his throat to interrupt the kiss.

He couldn’t believe he was kissing Aelin Galathynius, and she felt so soft. Soft lips, soft skin, a soft sigh that he felt in areas he’d rather forget to not embarrass himself.

“A little more than kin, and—HOLY SHIT”

The absolute silence turned into mayhem once Fenrys abruptly addressed what was going on. Once he did, the students howled and whistled at them.

However, the only reaction he cared about was Aelin’s, who stared at him with flushed cheeks and wide turquoise eyes that sparkled with something he couldn’t quite place. She giggled and hid it behind her hand, and the sight of her nervous excitement brought a funny feeling to his stomach.

“Okay, that’s enough,” their teacher said to interrupt everyone’s shouts and cheers. “Moonbeam, you’ll arrive with your lines fully memorized next time—this is not a request. Everyone’s dismissed except for Whitethorn and Galathynius.”

The mood immediately sobered as students grabbed their things between whispers. It didn’t affect him like people thought it would, though. Rowan had just kissed Aelin—with tongue. Mr. Emrys could put him in detention ‘til eternity, he didn’t give a fuck.

They got ready to leave along with everyone else, but gathered around the chair their teacher was still on once the theater was empty.

A twitch of Mr. Emry’s lips into a firm line told them he was trying to get into ‘stern teacher’ mode. He’s not really the authoritative type, but they broke the rules, and it was in the job description that he plays a role for discipline’s sake.

“In the script, it says ‘kiss on the cheek’, and I need my actors to do exactly as scripted, okay?”

Rowan and Aelin both muttered their agreements.

“Great. If that—“ Mr. Emrys pointed at the spot their kiss happened. “happens again, I’ll have to take measures all three of us won’t like.”

“We understand.”

“Great.” He said in an upbeat mode, without his ‘stern teacher’ frown, switching back to ‘nice teacher’ mode. “Glad that’s settled. You can go now, but I want you in your best behavior from now on.”

The thing about Mr. Emrys is that he’s a really cool dude. He rarely gets angry at his students, most times it’s an odd sort of fond exasperation. It worked on their favor this time, but Rowan wouldn’t take it for granted.

Outside, Aelin stopped once the door was closed. So did he. The playful flirtation they had during rehearsal was gone, and Rowan was unsure on how to make a move in this awkward silence.

It was now or never, though.

Aelin chuckled and went her way down the hall, which he followed beside her.

“So, that happened.”

He gave her a brief, close-lipped smile. “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” She swiftly looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Doyouwannagooutsometime?”

Rowan hoped the blood rushing into his cheeks wasn’t visible from outer space.

Aelin had both hands gripping the shoulder straps of her backpack as she fought the corners of her lips from quirking up.

“Sure,” she said. “Do you have something in mind? Because there’s this movie I really wanna watch—”

“We can watch it.”

Aelin bit her bottom lip, eyes brimming with amusement. “I haven’t told you which movie it is yet.”

He tilted his head, silently urging her to give the information.

Please, anything but that gorey demon one he saw last weekend.

“Do you wanna go see Healers vs. Demons?”

“Sounds great,” Rowan half-lied.

Any movie sounded great if it was on his first date with Aelin.

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[shalotttower]

Will-o'-the-wisp

Title: Will-o'-the-wisp

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)

Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.

Word count: 1700+

Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed

You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.

The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.

Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.

When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.

There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.

That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.

And this is where you see him for the first time.

The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.

"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."

He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."

His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.

"Thank you."

The smile widens. "You're welcome."

---

It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.

You do enjoy gardening.

Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.

The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.

You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.

---

You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.

The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.

"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."

---

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.

You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.

Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.

At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.

You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.

It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.

Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.

It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.

After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.

There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.

You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.

Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.

Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.

It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.

Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.

The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.

Then it disappears.

No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.

There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.

But it's impossible.

Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.

Why is he here?

"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."

Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.

There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.

Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.

"I need to go."

"Where?"

This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?

"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.

"And where is home?"

"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."

He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.

Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.

How?

Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.

"That's enough, dear."

"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"

A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.

"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."

There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.

"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."

It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"I didn't know!"

He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.

Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.

"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere Bard x Reader - Primal

I finally got a chance to finish this lol enjoy some smut

Summary: your childhood, musical friend Elphael is madly in love with you, fantasizing about you in secret and planning to make you his. Finally, you've seen reason and accept his love.

Warning: 18+, explicit language, explicit scenes, penetration, obsessive, toxic behavior, dub-con

Read the previous parts here:

1, 2, 3, 4

-----

Elphael's eyes roamed over your exposed skin, drinking in every curve and dip. His hands trembled as they hovered just above your chest, as if he was afraid to touch you and shatter the dream.

"You're perfect," he breathed, voice thick with awe and desire. "Even more beautiful than I imagined."

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you once more. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your collarbone, nipping and sucking as he went. His tongue swirled down your nape, the scent of his saliva made your whole body tense up. His hands finally made contact with your skin, palms sliding up your sides to cup your breasts.

You arched into his touch with a gasp, head falling back against the pillow. Elphael took the opportunity to lavish attention on your throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there as his thumbs played with your nipples. He drifted down, the warm breath pulsing against your anticipating skin.

His tongue swirled around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, sucking gently. You arched into him more with a gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair. The sensation sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

Elphael's free hand trailed down your stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire.

He was waiting for further confirmation, terrified that any wrong movement would make you disappear, that this was still a dream and he would wake up from it in a desperation. Your gazes met each other and you saw the famished eyes pierce into you. No one had ever wanted you like this before.

You gave a quick smile and nodded for him to continue.

That was all he needed, to fully let loose.

With a jolt, Elphael ripped your pants open.

His eyes blazed with lust as he gazed upon your newly exposed skin. This was a sight he had yearned for, for centuries. In his pent up agony, you noticed him tremble with anticipation. You were even more beautiful than he imagined.

"Mine," he growled, voice low and possessive. "All mine."

Before you could react, his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. His tongue laved over your most sensitive areas, drawing a startled gasp from your lips. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that exquisite sensation.

Elphael's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you. Years of pent-up desire fueled his actions, making him almost frantic in his need to taste every inch of you. The taste of you, your intoxicting zest filled his mouth as he sucked. His skilled tongue found your most sensitive spots, circling and flicking in a maddening rhythm.

You writhed under him, while you let out noises you had never heard yourself make before.

Elphael's tongue worked feverishly, lapping at your folds with desperate hunger. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he held you open, savoring every taste and texture.

You arched off the bed, gasping and trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Your hands tangled in his silver hair, alternating between pulling him closer and pushing him away as the sensations became overwhelming.

"Elph," you moaned, voice breathy and wrecked. "Please, I..."

"I need you," he interrupted, his voice was unnerving. He never sounded like that before. "All of you."

In one fluid motion, he rose up and captured your lips in another searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth. His hands roamed your body, mapping every curve.

Elphael broke the kiss to hastily remove his own clothing, revealing his tattooed lavender skin. The celestial designs seemed to shimmer in the dim light as he positioned himself between your legs. His arousal pressed insistently against your thigh, hot and eager.

His eyes locked with yours, burning with an intensity that took your breath away. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his length just barely pressing against you.

"Tell me you want this," he growled in a husky note. "Tell me you want me."

You nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. But that wasn't enough for him. He needed to hear it.

"Say it," he demanded, grinding against you teasingly. "I need to hear you say it."

"I want you," you gasped out. "Please, Elphael. I want you."

A primal moan rumbled in his chest at your words. Without further hesitation, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust. You cried out at the sudden fullness, your body half falling off the bed, shaking viciously.

Elphael stilled for a moment. You were so warm around him.

His grey eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he sheathed himself fully inside you. The tight heat of your body enveloping him was beyond anything he had ever imagined. He let out a shuddering breath, struggling to maintain control.

"Fuck," he groaned, strained with the effort of holding still. He was fearful he would explode immedietly. He needed to savor this. You.

You whimpered beneath him, adjusting to the stretch and fullness. Your hands clutched at his biceps, feeling the muscles coiled tight with restraint. After a moment, you rolled your hips experimentally, drawing a hiss from Elphael's lips.

Taking that as his cue, the drow began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, enjoying every inch of you. But his control quickly unraveled as years of pent-up desire took over. His pace increased, hips pounding down into you. The loud clapping against each other joined the chorus of your moans. He pulled you up by your arms, holding you up with his strong arm against your back. He stared into your eyes as your hot breath intermingled with his own.

Elphael's thrusts became more frantic as he held you against him, his grey eyes blazing dark and cardinal. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, drawing breathless cries from your lips with each powerful snap of his hips.

He growled again, voice rough with possessive desire. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

You gasped, struggling to form words as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. "Y-yours," you managed to stammer out. "I'm yours, Elph."

A feral grin spread across his face at your words. He captured your lips in another deep kiss, tongue plunging into your mouth as he continued to drive into you relentlessly. One hand tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as he feasted on you.

In one fluid motion, Elphael flipped you over. Your knees sank into the mattress. Elphael’s hands grabbed your ass so tightly that the intensity of his grip made your body jolt slightly. His fingernails dug into your flesh as he let out another shaky sigh. The sight of you like this drove him insane. He repositioned himself and thrust back in. The way he filled you up again made you scream out loud.

His pace grew frantic again, almost punishing in its intensity. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your breathless moans and Elphael's guttural groans. You could feel the tension coiling tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

One hand snaked around to rub tight circles against your most sensitive area, quickly pushing you towards the edge.

"Come for me," Elphael commanded, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to feel you fall apart around me."

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You had to obey him.

Your body wavered as pleasure coursed through every nerve, while his continuous thrusts made the ecstacy take over even more. Elphael groaned deeply as he felt you clench around him, your release coating his length and allowing him to slide even more smoothly in and out of your quivering form.

"That's it," he growled, his voice growing louder with the effort of holding back his own release. "You're so perfect, so beautiful when you come for me."

His thrusts were erratic, chasing his own pleasure now. One hand gripped your hip bruisingly tight while the other tangled in your hair, pulling your head back. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as he drove into you relentlessly.

"Mine, mine, mine, MINE!" he panted against your skin between kisses. "All…MINE!”

With a final, powerful thrust, Elphael buried himself deep within you.

You could feel the hot pulse of his release, filling you completely.

For a long moment, you both remained still, panting heavily as you came down from your shared high. Elphael's forehead rested between your shoulder blades, his breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin. His arms trembled slightly as he held himself above you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

Slowly, gently, he eased out of you and rolled to the side, pulling you with him. You found yourself cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid you might vanish. The rapid beating of his heart gradually slowed beneath your cheek.

Elphael's fingers played with your now wet hair. He pressed soft kisses against your temple, stopping in between to catch his own breath again.

“I love you…”, he murmured. “Please…don’t go…I didn’t think-”

You looked up at him. You could see his eyes were filled with terror. He had let himself lose control and he was anxious it had been too much.

You smiled serenly. “Don’t worry Elph. I liked it.”

Elphael's eyes widened, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over his features. "You...you did?" he breathed.

You nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek. He was so beautiful, this bashful and nervous version of him was what you knew and already loved. That primal version though… that was something else. Something you equally enjoyed.

A tentative smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He leaned into your touch, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. "I've wanted to show you for so long," he murmured. "I was afraid I'd scare you away."

You chuckled softly. "Well, you certainly surprised me. But I'm not going anywhere."

Elphael's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. A small tear escaped him.

"Good," he murmured. "Because I can’t let you go now.”

You caught yourself smiling at that statement.

[4ranghaes]

soo,, you're not-compared-to-others-good at song fics (i'm reading them with a great pleasure that you can imagine!! ty for your hard work 🐝⭐) butt what if you find time to write maybe some kind of your associations with boys based on 80s-90s movies?? i think they're all a type of retro bfs ❤️‍🩹 shout out to leehan and patrick swayze parallels istg.......

ੈ✩‧₊˚ bnd as old movie bfs

ot6 bnd x reader [fluff]

a/n - anonie your mind😍😍 i LIVE off old movies this is one of the best asks i’ve ever received

sungho ~ william thacker from notting hill

thinking specifically about the scene where he crawls across the bed to look at her boobs under the duvet. constantly wearing his glasses as you sit and watch films. stuttering as he tries to be polite as possible offering any food or drink he has available, always such a gentleman. sitting out on the terrace in a terribly boyfriend fit of button-ups and barefeet. protecting you in situations even when he comes across as a total fool. actually does many foolish things, but it’s okay, because you think he’s lovely <3

riwoo ~ cameron james from 10 things i hate about you

smitten from the moment he lays eyes on you. will learn new skills specifically to try and get closer to you. unrelentless in his pining, but always polite and respectful. drives you home. waits until you want to kiss him. may be one of many waiting in line, the more extroverted, brash men trying their hardest to get to you. but he knows he’ll get you in the end.

jaehyun ~ duckie from pretty in pink

for this i’m going back to the original ending of duckie ending up with andie. your best friend. loud, bright, funny, eccentric, and absolutely head over his heels in love with you. even as a friend, is loud and proud about how much he loves you and how beautiful he thinks you are. diligently plays his role as a friend, because he knows you’ll see him for what he is in the end. watches you love and be tortured by other men, helps you when you fall. dedicates everything to you. is so serious about being your future, he’d buy you a house ^-^

taesan ~ kevin dolenz from st. elmo’s fire

tortured poet who would rather go months and months without any romantic or sexual interaction than not have you. watches you with your boyfriend (his best friend) in a haze of jealousy while trying to bury it down deep. he knows he’s cheating on you, he knows you deserve better, but he doesn’t want to break your heart. doesn’t mean to hurt his best friend by swooping in after it falls apart, he’s just loved you for so long he can’t wait another moment for you. starts writing again after you finally know his feelings for you, he’s found happiness again.

leehan ~ ferris bueller from ferris bueller’s day off

okay this is such a strange decision to make im sure because anonie i also agree about patrick swayze, but think about it. charismatic extrovert, not overly loud but just brimming with confidence in everything he does. just wants to have fun and spend time with his loved ones while enjoying his youth, but at the same time, he knows he loves you so much he’s already ready to marry you. he’s not joking either, no matter how much he jokes about other things, this, he’s quite serious about. will organise the craziest things and go to the strangest lengths just to see you smile.

woonhak ~ knox overstreet from dead poet’s society

obsessed. this is his yawp. this is his reason for poetry and art. he doesn’t think he can go on unless he gets you, or at least lets you know how he feels. he knows you have a scary older boyfriend, but maybe you’d see how much of a tool he is once you knew him! you inspire him and he was right in the end, once you knew him, you did need him too.

[teecupangel]

(i sent my prev ask unfinished ignore it pls)

i was wondering because i have seen you talk about multiple desmond ships… any daniel cross/desmond headcanons or ideas?

I swore I’ve gotten an ask about Daniel x Desmond but I can’t find it.

For all I know, I could have just imagined it hahahaha

So let’s go full on regression setup XD

Cross wakes up back in Abstergo New York Branch. According to the calendar app in his ‘old’ phone, he had an appointment with Warren Vidic in 10 minutes.

Now that he thought about it…

He was standing in the hallway that would lead to meeting room that had been ‘set’ as the place in his calendar app’s meeting reminder.

He must have been walking towards it when he stopped to… what?

Have a vision of the future?

Or to have his conscious be taken over by his future dead self?

Either way, Daniel already knew what the meeting was about.

He would be tasked to lead the team sent to kidnap a Desmond Miles and transfer him to the research facility in Rome.

.

It was supposed to be an easy snatch and grab.

Desmond Miles was weak.

Too tired from working a double shift.

Too used to a never-changing daily life.

That was what happened in the previous timeline.

Desmond tried to put up a fight.

He even managed to hit one of the men on the neck hard enough that the man might not be able to speak anytime soon.

But he was outnumbered, rusty and tired.

There was no way for him to escape.

That was what was supposed to happen.

And now…

Daniel looked at the carnage around the supposed tired overworked underpaid runaway Assassin.

Every man who tried to charge him were on the ground, dead from precise single strikes that aimed at their neck.

And Desmond Miles…

Not a single drop of blood even touched him.

The only thing bloodied was the simple knife he had. A lean sharp knife that would have probably been used slicing garnishes for drinks.

A knife he didn’t have in the previous timeline.

Desmond flicked his wrist, cleaning off the knife’s blade effortlessly.

Daniel’s lips curved into a manic grin as Desmond faced him.

Instead of confusion and fear…

Desmond looked at him with a blank expression.

Befitting a Master Assassin.

“You came back too, didn’t you?” Daniel asked as he unholstered his gun.

He could fire off a shot or two before Desmond reached him.

He’d hit him.

He has never felt clearer than he did right now.

Nikolai has been silent this entire time.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t the old Daniel Cross.

Or maybe…

It was because Desmond Miles loves more beautiful than ever.

The determination to kill Daniel clear in his eyes.

[hauntedrabbit]

Little Vere imagine

Content warnings: blood, gore, angsty, Vere being a little shit to MC even though their passed out, Vere and MC in an established relationship

Word count: 1.5k

Out of all the nightmares you had while being here, this one would have been the last one you could have ever wished to come true.

In front of you stood Vere. Claws, teeth, everything he could’ve possibly used as a weapon at the ready. And behind him stood 6 Senobium clerics, all with one intention in mind.

To command him to kill you.

Of course you never did anything wrong, right? You did what you could to get into the giant tower to hopefully find something to rid of this wretched curse, but unfortunately, you failed miserably. The only good thing that came out of it was you and Vere becoming something more special, more intimate, more loving than any relationship you’ve ever had the blessing of being in.

But that same lover was the one standing in front of you, his tail fluffed up and still between his legs. And if you looked any closer, you can see that he was visibly shaking, ears pointed down as he focuses every part of his body on resisting the command, refusing to give into the thought of harming you.

But before you could speak, a cleric shouts at him, obviously irritated by his refusal. “Vere! What the hell are you waiting on? Kill them already!”

Vere lets out a short growl, growing angrier by the second. He knew what the consequences would be if the Senobium knew he had a special someone. But then again they always assumed a monster like him could never be capable of feeling something as powerful as love.

Vere looks at you again. Anger, fear, frustration, regret can all be seen in his eyes, he doesn’t want to hurt you, he can’t hurt you.

But you stared right back at him with an expression that was far too calm considering the situation.

“It’s okay, I should’ve known this was coming, what would happen if I affiliated with you.”

Vere’s eyes widened a bit more, surely you didn’t mean that? After all the time you spent together, you knew he loved you, right?

But in the midst of his panic, a strong, painful burst of magic shot through his body, causing him to stumble. The clerics were becoming increasingly impatient.

“Do we have to take care of this for you? Surely you understand that the punishment for resisting a command is a lot more severe than you think.”

Vere stood back up fully, turning to send a very deadly glare at the group before turning back to you, but this time, you weren’t even looking at him now.

But before he could drown in his own anger, his instincts took over.

Within an instant, he was on top of you, hand wrapped around your neck and claws digging into your skin brutally. He could see the blood flowing from your body, of course under any other circumstances he would’ve thought it was beauty reincarnated. But this time, all he wanted to do was do everything in his power to stop it.

As his claws dig deeper, and his free hand takes ahold of your left arm to pin it to the ground preventing you from moving, you suddenly reach up, and grasp on tightly to the collar around his neck.

You squeeze the chain as tightly as possible, mumbling something that fell deaf to Vere’s ears.

Vere looks down at your hand, wondering what could you possibly be doing. A part of him getting increasingly upset as you say nothing directly to him, seemingly not paying attention to the fact that he was destroying your wind pipe.

A small beam of black begins to tangle itself around your hand and the collar. But as its shape becomes larger, beams of white start forming, assumingely resisting whatever spell this was.

But somehow, someway, the incantation that you had used, proved to be stronger.

Vere suddenly felt as if a huge weight was lifted off of him. He looked down slowly, using the hand that was pinning your left arm to reach up and touch the place where the collar was. Or where it should’ve been.

Then he looked up, the collar was now resting in your hand, broken where the locks originally were placed. You stared back at him, breath shallow and shaky.

Vere could only stare right back at you, emotions frantic and desperate to understand what happened. “What…have you done?”

Your lips, slowly but painfully raised into a small smile, carefully reaching your hand up to place it gently on his chest. “Give them…..hell.”

And those were the last words you managed to utter before falling into unconsciousness.

The clerics heard it all, obviously pissed off by the fact that you were still alive.

“I’m assuming we haven’t beaten it into you enough that the direct order we gave wasn’t followed through?”

Vere’s ears shot up at the sound of their voice, but he didn’t turn around at all to truly acknowledge their presence.

Standing up to his full height, he was completely still, not muttering a word whatsoever.

The clerics watched as the shadows around them grew bigger, the air suddenly felt more suffocating, and the area around them laced with the feeling of nothing but pure rage.

“I think, someone needs a reminder, of who I am.”

And finally, Vere turned around. And the clerics got their answer as to why he hadn’t been listening.

“The collar!-“ the clerics words were cut off. I mean, it’s not like they would’ve been able to say anything else without a head to do the speaking.

What followed was nothing sort of pure carnage. The screaming, the blood, the fear in their eyes. Vere took pleasure in it all.

It must have been at least, ten minutes since Vere unleashed almost every bit of resentment built up over the course of centuries onto the clerics. Sure, they were only workers and weren’t the ones to actually imprison him. But they still worked for the Senobium, in his eyes he had every right to take his anger out on them.

Vere eventually is able to catch his breath, but this time, it felt a little more relaxed, now that the collar was finally off of him.

Wiping some of the blood of his hands, he walks back over to your body. And now that the adrenaline from the all the killing he just did was wearing off, a bit of panic rises in his chest.

He crouches down, using two of his fingers to press it against the side of your throat.

The pulse was faint, but it was still there.

He then picked you up, paying no attention to the blood that was currently splattered all across his body.

“My love, if you wanted to release me from that wretched thing so badly, you should’ve done so much earlier.” Even though you were completely unconscious, he still managed to find time to tease you.

He then begins his walk towards the clinic owned by the doctor he loathed so much. As much as he would’ve preferred healing you himself, this was no injury that could be fixed with some bandages and a kiss where it hurt. Also, Vere needed to figure out how you managed to break the collar, the enchantment on that thing dated back all the way back to when he was first imprisoned, you must’ve done something you shouldn’t have.

But alas, he was now free. Free to do whatever he pleased, without answering to no one.

And it was all thanks to you, his most precious treasure.

~~~~~~~

Leander finished getting ready, securing his pendent on his coat before making his way down the stares of the Wet Wick. It was oddly quiet this morning, lacking in the usual sounds of people talking as they walk down the street and others flooding the bar of the Wet Wick for a quick drink.

As he walked towards the door, he’s caught off guard by the sight of people crowding around a single area in the street. People mumbling about whatever that was going on and others reeling back in disgust at the sight. What happened?

Once Leander manages to get outside, what he see’s is truly nothing short of nauseating.

Six bodies all hung up like Christmas lights on some rope that was tied in between two buildings, their heads, obviously having been ripped off but still, somehow there. But when you looked closer, it looks as if whoever had done this put their heads on the wrong bodies, like it was some sort of cruel art project.

Leander continues to stare in disbelief, surely who ever could have done this was nothing but a maniac.

But unfortunately, Leander knew exactly who would’ve committed such a gruesome act. And he also knew that if he wanted any sort of peace with that person. He was going to have to do a lot of pleading.

If only Ais were here to help.

Authors note: this was inspired by me seeing post about wishing to see Vere absolutely lose it while protecting MC

[dudewhy3]

Continue yours and Myrtle's discussion about Armin being a Twilight fan, what if it's a plot twist, and it's ARMIN who introduced Mikasa to Twilight?

Like, he was *analysing* everything and reading books and watching movies, but was ashamed of it, and Mikasa once spotted him writing another long essay about, "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger: principles of the selective abstraction and polarizes thinking", and so he introduced her with the saga after this.

BONUS: before AruAni became a thing, Armin heard Annie playing and singing Paramore - Decode, and he was mesmerized by her voice, playing and beauty, and so he was so smitten with her, that he didn't even notice that Annie was, in fact, smitten with him, too. It took them a while before they became a couple, but when they did, Annie plays Decode only for him :3

HI ANNAAAA, AND OH MY GOD YES!! THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA AAAAAAGH, thank you for sending it in!! <3

It turned out rather long ahaha, so i'll put it under the cut. Please do beware of the angst ahead :3

So in a high school au, let's say Armin was 16 this year. That would mean that he was born in the same year the first Twilight movie was released (2008), just 3 weeks before. So, imagine his parents, a young couple, new parents to a little bundle of light, huddling up on the little couch in their little apartment, trying to ignore the cold, switching through channels to make the time pass. They randomly get to a channel streaming Twilight, so they watch it all. And little Armin doesn't cry once, he just stares at the screen with those big eyes of his, as if he understood everything that was going on. For the next 5 years, each November they would watch the release of another Twilight movie (except for that one time in like 2010 when they released it in June). And after the saga was complete, they'd watch it all in November, maybe even on Armin's birthday to make it more special. Until the day he turned 10, and his parents didn't come home– they never came home again, it was just him and his grandfather. Yet every time he missed them, he put on a Twilight movie, and the grief would get a little more bearable.

So as he grew older, he grew more attached to the saga. He started analysing everything about it, every little detail, because it made him feel closer to his parents. But he never shared those ideas, because they were so intimate and he was already getting bullied enough- so, he kept them in a little notebook. Until one day in math class when he was about 13 or 14, he was scribbling down ideas for that essay you mentioned- "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger" (which is such a cool title btw, love it). And Mikasa peeked over his shoulder and read a bit, and she was so engrossed with it that she didn't stop pestering him until he showed her the movies.Which was life changing for Mikasa, because she now finally had something she truly loved, but also for Armin- someone liked his ideas; he got to share his love for the series again, and it made him happy. So he finally found the courage to share his analyses and ideas, and they were well recieved by the fandom.

But he never finished that essay, not until he met Annie. He met her just as you said- he heard her singing once and was irrevocably in love. Except, i head canon that Annie would be such a distant and quiet person in high school, it would take a LOT to get close to her. Not only is she aloof, she's also extremely direct- so all his efforts to sit with her or strike up conversation ended up in her berating him for bugging her. Besides, there was Bert too, always two steps behind Annie in an almost stalky manner, but she seemed to indulge his presence better than Armin's.

So, Armin gave up on trying to pursue her. He accepted the fact that he was the Jacob in this situation and that his Bella has chosen the giant vampire, and drowned himself into his theories and analysis. He found that essay in his drafts, and decided to work on it again. "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger: principles of the selective abstraction and polarized thinking". It helped to put his own feelings and love somewhere.

But the bullies found it. They found his notebook, tore it all up, gave him one hell of a beating. Armin was left bruised and broken and with a ruined notebook. His work, his life's purpose- gone. He didn't know what to do, so he picked himself up, gathered the pieces of paper that used to be his essay, and started walking astray through the school. Until he heard soft guitar tunes coming out of the music room, and found Annie there, playing her guitar, wearing a scowl on her face. Somehow, her scowl only deepened when she saw him.

"I didn't know where else to go." He couldn't go home and worry his grandpa, and he couldn't go to his friends either, or Eren would have caused a scene. "Is it cool if I stay here? I promise not to bother you."

Annie looked him up and down, examining him thoroughly, her eyes widening the slightest bit at the sight of his bruises. "It's whatever," she finally said.

So they sat in the music room, each doing their own thing. Armin put his essay back together, and Annie carried on with her song. No word was spoken between them that day, or the next day, or the next week, yet there was peace in the quiet and comfort in the silent understanding passed between them. But Annie's silence turned into nods of aknowledgement and later into quiet 'hi's. Armin's turned into little smiles and stolen glances, and occasional "hey do you want some chips?"s. One day, two months into this arrangement, as she was taking a little break from her guitar and munching on his chips, she asked about that essay of his.

"How come you haven't finished it yet, don't you have a deadline for it?"

And so, feeling extremely self conscious, Armin beat around the bush and said that it was this silly character analyses for a show he liked.

The next day, Annie was playing another song, but he didn't recognize it at first because she played it in little sequences, never in full length. Eventually, maybe three or four weeks later, she asked him to put his essay aside for a minute and just listen, and she played Paramore's Decode, both guitar and voice. Armin was left absolutely mesmerized, so much so that he didn't know what to say, staring at Annie with a big dumb smile on his face. But the more he stared, the more self aware Annie became. She flushed a deep red, picked up all her stuff in a hurry and left.

That was the moment Armin realized he was completely smitten. He went home, sat down at his desk- and decided to finish his essay that very day, give it to Annie in the morning, and confess his love through it. Which is exactly what he did. He was an absolute zombie the next day, having barely slept, but when he made it to the music room his heart was beating like crazy against his chest.

Annie got flustered when she saw him. "This is my room, I found it first. If you're gonna sit there and mock me for what I play, then you can stick your nose right up your-"

He thrusted the papers in her arms. "Just read this," he demanded.

Annie looked between him and the papers with skeptical eyes, but eventually sat down and started reading through them. Armin sat next to her and carefully watched her face as she read, taking into account every little change in her expression.

When she was done, Annie sat the papers neatly between them.

"Okay. And?"

"What do you think?"

"What does this have to do with me?"

Armin took a deep breath in, building up his courage. He couldn't back out now.

"This is how I feel about you. What do you think?"