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burningembers91 · 1 month ago

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Not Who I Want to Be - Choi Su Bong (Thanos) x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Thanos is tired of life, until he meets you.

A/N: I am determined to make this man likeable. Redemption story arc incoming!

Warnings: Mentions of abusive father, mentions of drug and alcohol dependency. 18+ only!

Thanos couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent 24 hours sober. He’d either been drunk, high, or both for as long as he could remember. When he was a teenager, it was a way to escape his abusive father, but the pills and drinks eventually became a crutch, one he couldn’t function without.

He still had no idea how he’d become so famous, how his music had managed to become such a hit with so many people. There were songs he didn’t even remember writing, days that were completely lost in a haze of booze and drugs. But somehow, people loved him. He was under no illusion that people loved him for who he was – he knew he was a prick. No, people loved him for his fame, his money, and his seemingly unlimited supply of narcotics.

It didn’t matter to Thanos though; he relished the attention, basked in the flirtatious attention he received from women whose names he never bothered to learn. His friends were nothing more than people desperate for fame, clinging to him in the hope he’d make them as big a name as he was.

People seemed to love his outlandish character. Every time he did something insane, his fans would go crazy for him. So, Thanos slowly became more unhinged, forgetting the little boy he’d once been, the one who’d had big dreams. He spent each night with a different woman, attending every party in Seoul. His penthouse apartment was a constant hive of activity, the people he’d picked up along the way using it as a base to get high.

He didn’t even enjoy music anymore, the words he wrote meant nothing to him. His fans constantly demanded more of him, so he worked like a dog to give them exactly what they wanted. Nothing he wrote made sense; it had no meaning, no context behind the raps. His songs were as empty as his soul; but people were eating up his words like they were gospel.

It was a usual Saturday night ritual for him to attend a club in Seoul. To make an appearance to the crowd, before getting blackout drunk. Tonight, he found himself in the throng of a sweaty crowd, so high off the pills he’d taken before coming out that he was barely clinging to existence. The usual scroungers were there, taking as many free drinks from him as they could get, posing for photos that would instantly be uploaded to Instagram for a few minutes of fame. Girls were clinging to his shirt, their slurred words ricocheting off his ears, melting into the thump thump thump of the base from the speakers to his right. He was dizzy, dehydrated and so, so fucking done with this crowd. He needed to get away, needed to breathe some fresh, sweat-free air.

Pushing himself away from his followers, he stumbled up the steps to the rooftop. It was raining, the wind pushing the droplets sideways into his face. If it was cold, his body didn’t feel the chill. It had been a long time since Thanos had felt anything. The roof was empty, expect for a figure to his left. You were stood huddled under a thin canopy, your arms crossed over your chest. You sipped periodically from a glass, shivering every now and again against the stormy night.

You were the most beautiful thing Thanos had ever seen. You seemed to light up the entire space, despite the wind and rain. Your outfit clung to your figure, accentuating your curves and leaving him breathless. You spotted him staring and offered a small smile. Half walking, half stumbling, Thanos made his way over to you. One good thing about the booze and the drugs, it gave him confidence; and he’d need a bucketful to speak to you.

“Hey girl,” he said, instantly transforming into his overly-macho, too confident persona. “You know who I am?” “No,” you simply said, taking in his tall, lean figure and bright purple hair. “Should I?” “I’m fucking Thanos, baby!” He cried, the wind drowning out his voice, making him seem as small as he felt. “Right… Sorry, doesn’t ring any bells,” you shrugged, downing the last of your drink. “Where would I recognise you from?” “My music,” he told you proudly, spreading arms so you could take him all in. This wasn’t the usual reaction he got. People usually knew he was before he’d even introduced himself, but you, you were just looking blankly back at him. “I’m award winning, senorita!” “Sure,” you smiled, “I’ll uh… I’ll take your word for it.” A clap of thunder stopped your next words, the two of you looking towards to the storm-laden skies. “We should get inside,” you said, “wouldn’t want the famous Thanos to be struck by lightning.”

Following you inside, he couldn’t help but eye your figure as you walked down the stairs. You were nothing like anyone he’d ever seen. Your indifference and unfamiliarity with him were refreshing. You weren’t scrambling to get an autograph or clinging to him in the hopes he’d buy you a drink or take you home for the night. “You here with friends?” He didn’t want the conversation to end, he didn’t want you to leave. He’d probably never see you again if you left now. “Yeah,” you nodded, “it’s my colleagues’ birthday. She really loves this place. You?” Thanos looked around, his eyes scanning the crowd for the people he knew were anything but his friends. “Yeah, baby! It’s Saturday night! It’s party night!” If he wasn’t so off his face, he’d be cringing at the way he was speaking. This wasn’t him; he knew it wasn’t. But he didn’t know how to be any other way. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your evening,” you smiled. He could tell you thought he was a joke; he knew you saw straight through his bullshit. “Wait!” He called after you. “Can I get your number”? You turned and shook your head. “Sorry, Thanos,” you smiled, “I don’t give my number to Marvel villains.” He laughed; not only were you beautiful, you were funny too. “What about your Instagram then?” You thought for a few moments, and finally agreed. Typing your account name into the search bar, you pressed the follow button. “Hey, your accounts private!” Thanos remarked, seeing the request pending written across the screen. “Yeah, it’s to stop all the weirdos from following me. You never know, I might accept. Have a goodnight, Thanos!” And with that, you disappeared into the crowd.

He awoke the next morning, his head pounding and his mouth dry. Some random girl lay next to him in bed, a bottle of vodka tipped on his side and dripping the last of its contents all over his custom-made tile floor. His memory of last night was hazy; he didn’t remember leaving the club or getting home. He didn’t remember going to bed with a stranger, but he remembered you. He remembered the way the strobe lights reflected in your eyes, the way you refused to put up with his shit. He grabbed his phone, scrolling through his apps until he found Instagram. Clicking on your profile, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you’d accept his follow request.

A message popped up on his notification banner from you. His hands shaking from nerves and withdrawal, he clicked on it. Hey Thanos, it read, I hope you didn’t get blown away in the storm last night. He laughed, harder than he had done in months. Finally, he was excited about his day. He couldn’t wait to reply, couldn’t wait to see where this new conversation could lead him. He jumped out of bed, heading for the shower with his phone clutched in his hand. For the first time in a long time, Thanos was looking forward to the day ahead.

#squid game 2 #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader #t.o.p

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rainydetectiveglitter · 8 days ago

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What People Are Jealous Of You For, Based on Your Part of Fortune (PoF):

Your Part of Fortune can reveal not only your natural talents and the areas in life where luck finds you but also what others might envy about you. Let’s break it down by house!

♈ PoF in the 1st House: aries

You seem to have a golden aura—people admire your individuality, confidence, and natural leadership abilities. You give off the impression of always knowing who you are, which others may envy.

What they won’t admit: They wish they could embody your level of independence and charisma.

♉ PoF in the 2nd House: taurus

Money and material resources seem to come naturally to you, or you find ways to live comfortably no matter the circumstances.

What they won’t admit: People might think you have a “money magnet” or assume you’re naturally privileged, not seeing the effort behind it.

♊ PoF in the 3rd House: gemini

Your wit, communication skills, and charm get you far. You have a way with words that makes others wish they could articulate themselves the way you do.

What they won’t admit: They might envy your ability to talk your way out of anything or the ease with which you connect and network.

♋ PoF in the 4th House: cancer

You have a knack for building a sense of home and stability. You may come from a solid family foundation or create your own haven of warmth and support.

What they won’t admit: They’re jealous of your seemingly unshakable roots and emotional depth, even if it looks simple on the outside.

♌ PoF in the 5th House: leo

People envy your creativity, passion, or magnetism. You attract joy, love, or even fame in a way that feels effortless.

What they won’t admit: You inspire, but your ability to light up any room can make others feel overshadowed.

♍ PoF in the 6th House: virgo

You thrive in routine, hard work, and being dependable. Your knack for problem-solving and consistency gets you ahead.

What they won’t admit: They resent that you excel at balancing discipline and grace, and secretly wish they had your work ethic.

♎ PoF in the 7th House: libra

You seem to attract partnerships, whether romantic, platonic, or professional. People admire how effortlessly relationships flow for you.

What they won’t admit: Some may assume you “rely too much on others” or get breaks from your connections that they don’t have.

♏ PoF in the 8th House: scorpio

People envy your ability to transform and rise from the ashes. You may have access to support, shared resources, or a deeply magnetic aura.

What they won’t admit: They wish they had your emotional resilience or mystique, not understanding the challenges that gave it to you.

♐ PoF in the 9th House: sagittarius

You have an enviable sense of freedom, adventure, and wisdom. People see you as expansive and full of life experiences.

What they won’t admit: They envy your ability to find opportunities in travel, education, or spirituality.

♑ PoF in the 10th House: capricorn

Success and recognition seem to find you. You radiate authority, competence, and ambition that people respect (and sometimes fear).

What they won’t admit: They may believe you have it “easy” professionally without seeing your efforts.

♒ PoF in the 11th House: aquarius

You’re surrounded by a network of friends, supporters, and community resources. People assume you always have someone to help you out.

What they won’t admit: They might think you don’t “deserve” all the support or see you as taking it for granted.

♓ PoF in the 12th House: pisces

You hold a deep inner peace, spiritual connection, or creative vision that others don’t fully understand.

What they won’t admit: They might resent your ability to find purpose or growth in solitude while feeling “lost” themselves.

#pof #part of fortune #envy in chart #house placements #house astrology #astro notes #astrology observations #astrology rants

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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago

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Pocket Money Pt 2 | Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: After some time apart, you and Lance realise your love and future mean more than fans' hateful comments

Warnings: Swearing. Sexual innuendos? Hateful fans

Female reader. All pics found on Pinterest.

prev.

F1 Masterlist

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astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by chloestroll, scottyjames31 and others

astonmartinf1 fighting for points in imola. lance brings it home in P9, securing valuable points for the team #imolagp

5,396 comments

user1 lance stroll domination might bore some people

lance_stroll the car felt good this weekend. let’s keep it up, team

user2 just me or was lance looking a little happier this weekend than he has recently?

YourUserName wonderful race result

liked by lance_stroll

→ user3 the first social media appearance we’ve had from y/n in weeks and it was in support of lance?!?! what does this mean

user4 does this mean they’re still together?

→ user5 nah he definitely dumped her ass and now she’s just trying to get him back

user6 y/n commented and lance liked it! please tell me they’re back together. most underrated but cutest couple on the grid

user7 @ YourUserName talk about trying too hard. he broke up with you, sweetie. let it go

user8 i know they’re more private but i need them to confirm they’re still together so i can sleep easy

astonmartinf1 @ YourUserName fancy paying us a visit in canada?

liked by YourUserName

user9 not a bunch of you switching up like you weren’t calling for her head on a pike

→ user10 literally, you guys are probably the reason they broke up but now you’re acting like it’s not what you wanted, and the end of the world

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astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by YourUserName, lance_stroll and others

astonmartinf1 all ready for race day tagged: lance_stroll, fernandoalo_official, YourUserName

4,889 comments

user11 omg lance looked so happy this weekend and i bet it was because y/n was there

fernandoalo_official y/n looks far better in lance’s helmet

→ YourUserName should put me in his seat next time

→ astonmartinf1 deal

→ lance_stroll my father will hear about this

→ YourUserName okay draco malfoy

chloestroll okay but i think i just fell in love with those eyes

→ scottyjames31 why are you never this publicly obsessed with me

→ chloestroll because you’re not y/n

→ danielricciardo she is the moment

BestFriend do NOT put her in the car. girly barely passed her driving test the second time

→ YourUserName you can shade me in our messages but publicly, you’re supposed to support me

→ lance_stroll you told me you did pass the first time

→ YourUserName no, i told you i tried really hard. and you claim to listen to me

→ lance_stroll i do!

→ YourUserName it’s okay. i’m still proud of you

→ lance_stroll and i’ll still let you behind the wheel so long as the drive is less than 10 minutes

user12 is this confirmation that they’re back together!!

→ user13 it has to be. not only is she in the paddock but she’s on an official post AND lance commented in response to her

user14 so you’re still trying to tell me she’s NOT a fame whore? she vanishes from social media after being found out as a gold digger to come back on an f1 page

→ user15 seriously, what is your issue? lance looked happier this race than he has in weeks, and he scored some points. there’s obviously only one reason for that

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user1 agreed with @ daddynando. when you search her business, she is literally like second face you see after the ceo. she worked hard and deserves to flaunt it

→ user2 honestly. everyone talks about her being with lance for his money like she’s not loaded herself, and earnt it

→ user3 lance stroll wins for #1 wag because he’s always been so supportive of her and proud

user4 funny how many of you have switched your opinion since finding out y/n is in charge of running a pretty wealthy company, and has enough money to keep herself comfortable without lance

user5 i also really miss y/n and lance. they were a more lowkey couple but he was always caught in the background of driver clips staring at her

→ user6 i won’t believe in love until they get back together

→ user9 @ user6 you’re such a hypocrite. you literally have rts from two months ago of hateful tweets about her

user7 i’m so happy other people are finally being supportive of lance and y/n

user8 the way the two of them used to gush about starting a family and growing old together but the internet had to make her feel horrible about being in love

user9 not that i’m not happy to see all this support for y/nance. i’m just wondering where you were when she was getting death threats?

user10 omg guys, lance just posted!

user11 aston martin reposted this as well

→ user12 so did f1

→ user13 and mclaren, redbull and mercedes

→ user14 and danny ric, charles leclerc and a whole bunch of the grid

→ user15 they really said, we’re fed up with all of you

user16 people who have actually met her in the paddock say she’s the nicest person ever so idk why all you keyboard warriors thought you knew better

user17 the grid really said “not our y/n”

user18 anyone else feel like that last sentence was a bit of a threat?

→ user19 it’s because aston martin’s legal team located one of the women who was sending the most threats and served her

→ user20 i love that the official F1 website did an article about this because it serves as a warning to others

→ user21 lance stroll will find you lol

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lance_stroll, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName here’s what you missed on glee

3,115 comments

user1 omg welcome back. we’ve missed you

user2 excuse me but all the lance pictures. my favourite f1 couple are back together!

lance_stroll my pretty girl 💚 but why did you have to post the ice-cream pic?

→ YourUserName but i also posted that hot pic with the chain 🤤

→ lance_stroll i thought we talked about that emoji

→ danielricciardo don’t try and change her

user3 woof woof (i can’t tell which of them i want to sleep with more)

user4 okay but the black shirt and the chain. i’m starting to see what miss y/n sees him in

YourBrother dude, i do not need to see your underwear on this app. please do not post what are clearly post-sex pics

→ YourUserName they were not! we did that the night before. this was me begging him not to leave for a meeting and get back in bed. he declined :(

→ BestFriend how dare he!

→ lance_stroll it was an important meeting!

→ BestFriend and she’s an important person!

estebanocon at least lance will stop moping now

→ lance_stroll i think i was allowed to mope! the love of my life was sad and in another country

→ user5 ladies, get a man who simps over you like lance stroll

chloestroll um, why am i not included in this photo dump? do i mean nothing to you?

→ lance_stroll how many times do i have to tell you that you’re not her favourite stroll

→ YourUserName it’s actually lawrence

user6 do you know what i like seeing more than happy y/n and lance? no hate comments on y/n’s post. our queen is being respected and loved as she should be

user7 excuse me, are those wedding pics in the background

→ YourUserName oops

lance_stroll just posted

liked by alex_albon, fernandoalo_official and others

lance_stroll 💚🤍

4,006 comments

astonmartinf1 everybody stay calm! We are totally normal about this!

→ user8 admin is all of us

astonmartinf1 a huge congratulations to the newlyweds but we’re still disappointed that you didn’t have an aston martin themed wedding :(

→ YourUserName we had an aston martin as our wedding car?

→ astonmartinf1 keep talking

→ user9 not admin acting like they didn't know this prior to y/n spilling on her recent post

YourUserName i love you, my darling husband

→ lance_stroll i love you more, my breathtaking wife. thank you for marrying me

→ user10 get someone who THANKS you for marrying them

danielricciardo what a beautiful day, mate. and what a gorgeous bride

→ YourUserName no amount of compliments will make me forgive you

→ danielricciardo i didn’t mean to! i was drunk

→ YourUserName you still kissed my husband

→ lance_stroll you promised you wouldn’t tell the internet!

→ YourUserName i lied!

→ landonorris this marriage is off to a great start. nice work, ricciardo

chloestroll have i stopped crying? not really. my baby brother and perfect sister-in-law

→ YourUserName i’m so lucky to call you my sister-in-law. although i think you’d do better as my wife ;)

→ chloestroll there’s still time

→ lance_stroll stop

→ scottyjames31 agreed

user11 i don’t understand how anyone could deny that these two truly love each other. the way they look at each other

landonorris could you go be ridiculously in love somewhere else?

→ lance_stroll this is my instagram?

user12 omg they still got married on their original date

YourBrother nonna says it’s time for babies now

→ lance_stroll i’m trying my best

→ danielricciardo don’t tell the internet that you’re raw dogging every night

→ YourUserName that’s it. you’re blocked

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lance_stroll, georgerussell63 and others

YourUserName say hi to baby stroll

3,421 comments

lance_stroll my amazing family 🥰 y/n, you have given me the best gift by being my wife, and then by being my partner in parenting. i love you

→ YourUserName why do you insist on making me cry, my heart. i love you and our family more than anything

user13 excuse me but where was the pregnancy announcement!

chloestroll baby and the bear

→ YourUserName baby stroll loves his bobo bear more than anything

→ chloestroll what can i say, i’m the ultimate gift giver

→ lance_stroll you gave me an old vogue magazine for my birthday last year

→ chloestroll yes but for your 18th, i got you a hot date who eventually turned into the love of your life so i think i’m off the hook until the end of days

→ YourUserName i only agreed to it because i thought i would be YOUR hot date @ chloestroll

→ lance_stroll i have feelings

user14 we get their wedding and then we get nothing until they announce a whole ass baby

scottyjames31 am i still banned from the stroll household?

→ lance_stroll idk will you stop bringing red bull baby stuff into my house

→ scottyjames31 but then how will he show that he’s uncle scotty’s #1 supporter

→ danielricciardo and uncle danny’s

→ lance_stroll because he’s his dad’s #1 supporter

→ danielricciardo @ scottyjames31 this is uncle erasure

user15 when lance told us y/n wasn’t at races for the past 5 months because she was swamped at work, what he really meant was she was hiding a baby bump from us

user16 i knew her showing up in a different team hoodie every race was more than just a running joke!

→ landonorris she wore those because she loves mclaren! she loves us!

→ YourUserName debatable

→ landonorris i thought being a mum was supposed to make you nicer

→ YourUserName it did but you’re not my child

user17 i know this is gross but from doing the math, he got her pregnant on their honeymoon

→ user18 faster than he is on track

user19 um, mr stroll, we weren’t familiar with your game. those back muscles

→ YourUserName they’re what got me pregnant

→ user20 um, hello mrs stroll. PR might be after you now

→ astonmartinf1 she’s off the hook for now. we’re kind of hoping for them to make a grid’s worth of babies

→ user21 lawrence stroll ghost wrote this

→ lance_stroll sounds like we need to get started on baby #2, sweetheart

→ YourUserName only if you push this one out

→ lance_stroll deal

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Hands up if you were shocked by Lance’s contract announcement today 😂 Never saw that coming

Baby Fever Angst Series

F1 Request are open! (They might just take some time)

Tag list

@callsignwidow @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @lav3nder-haze @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @lemon-lav @minkyungseokie @bibissparkles @peachiicherries @rosecentury @exotic-iris13

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loveemagicpeace · 10 months ago

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🧚🏽Astrology Notes🧚🏽

🎸If Jupiter is in the first, fourth, seventh, tenth house, it should protect the person from major accidents. Jupiter in the 11th house means many friends. Jupiter in the 9th house means long journeys, usually paid for by someone else. Jupiter in the 4th house means that the person has a very religious family and that he will not live where he was born.

If Saturn is in the falling house (third, sixth, ninth, twelfth), circumstances may arise during that period, but you only become aware of them a few years later. If Saturn is in an angular house (fourth, seventh, tenth) at the time of birth, it sets a pattern that a person will follow throughout his life.

Saturn in the first, second or third house can indicate a burden on a person already in his early life. This is often because of the father. Saturn in the 4th house means that the individual will build a larger valuable property.

If the Sun is in a corner house (first, fourth, seventh, tenth), this means that the exercise of individuality will be visible to others. It makes the power that can bring you fame.

If the Sun is in one of the following houses (second, fifth, eighth, eleventh), this tends to give up publicity and the individual must progress on his own. If it is accepted by the public, it is not based on a personal initiative, as the main position of the sun sign would suggest. Follow-up houses often lead y dealing with other people's lives and/or their property.

If the Sun is in the falling houses (third, sixth, ninth, twelfth), this indicates that the individual thrives best behind the scenes. It makes an individual who serves. The beauty and strength of this individual are visible only to those closest to him in close contact with him.

Uranus is the planet that shows the clairvoyance of a person and the premonitions that a person has. But it is also a planet associated with astrology.

Mercury and Uranus: each aspect helps the person to communicate well. A person writes a horoscope.

Sun and Uranus: this is one of the more important aspects. No matter how aspected it brings a person great success in the field of astrology. And people will accept him as an expert and trust that person. You will become an authority figure, so you can make sure that you are honest.

Pluto rules kidnappings and gangsters. And many people do not know that pluto is also the co-ruler of Aries. So people who have a lot of Aries and act mysteriously is also part of it.

Cancer rising people are very sensitive when someone is rude to them. They take it to heart when someone is rude to them, especially authority figures. They are very used to home and family and it is difficult for them to be with people who are not their family for a long time. Let's say: if someone takes them to a doctor, they will always want it to be a person who is related to them.

Capricorn rising people are basically unaffected by things. And they are used to people being harsher towards them. are basically unaffected by things. And they are used to people being harsher towards them. They have tough skin and are generally not that personal as a sign. They look at things from a different perspective.

Aquarius Sun tend to want more friendly relationships than romantic ones. They don't like you controlling them or telling them what to do. But they are prone to long engagements. They also say that Aquarians do not like flashy and provocative clothes, jewelry and make-up. Although it all depends on what other signs a person has.

Venus:

Venus in Aries- are often selfish in love and will always put themselves first. And it is considered unstable venus.

Venus in Taurus- are very frugal with money. In love, however, they are loyal, deep and lasting.

Venus in Gemini- in love, they tend to flirt or have several relationships at the same time.

Venus in Cancer- are emotional and tend towards the domestic environment. They can be better parents than partners. This position is not always favorable for marriage.

Venus in Leo- love to spend, especially on people they love. They like attention. They are frank, honest and sometimes too kind-hearted.

Venus in Virgo-Venus falls here. They are artistic, but they are also emotionally closed. They tend to be critical. Once they commit, they don't let up.They are often disappointed in relationships and have several.

Venus in Libra- are young at heart, often indecisive. They are determined hosts. They often marry early.

Venus in Scorpio- are passionate, intense, mysterious, jealous. They strongly desire to know the hidden motives of others. He is quick to rate people. They can have a hard time forming relationships.

Venus in Sagittarius- are positive, sincere, passionate, irresistible. They are very idealistic, philosophical. They are intuitive, loyal and love a mystical way of life. They have many friends.

Venus in Capricorn- usually not open, they are calculating, serious, careful. They are often disappointed in love, so they are afraid of relationships. They can get married for the sake of society. They marry a person who can be quite different.

Venus in Aquarius - aloof in love, quickly establish contacts with strangers. They are usually more friendly than romantic. They tend to have multiple relationships.

Venus in Pisces- often fantasize about their love life. They are sensitive and also depressed. Music has a good effect on them.

The first house covers areas of life such as: early life impression, causes of financial losses, long journeys of children and their religious inclinations, friends of brothers and sisters.

The third house covers areas of life such as: incidental sciences, willpower, speech and hearing, reasons for moving away from home, long journeys of a spouse.

The fifth house covers areas of life such as: spouse's friends, grandchildren's long journeys, person's passions, ways of relaxation, cause of bankruptcy.

The seven house covers areas of life such as: the description and characteristics of a marriage partner, friends in other countries, rivalries, quarrels and fights, enemies and rivals, things that are the most difficult for a person to achieve, the outcome of diseases, the mentality of children, the later life conditions of the father in the female chart, later life conditions of the mother in the male chart.

The eighth house covers areas of life such as: natural death of a person, business friends, transition to the astral world, gateway to the spiritual world, acquisitions due to partnership, acquisitions due to marriage, investigation of lawsuits, short trips to work.

The second house covers areas of life such as: inner emotions and feelings, financial visions, the propriety of borrowing money, a person's ingenuity, the ability to be comfortable, what you give is what you get, family friends, time and reputation of children, inheritances and inheritances by marriage partner, cause of death partner.

The fourth house covers areas of life such as: family traditions, situations in later life, kitchen, causes of sadness due to love relationships, inheritances from other countries.

The sixth house covers areas of life such as: favors, small animals, attitude to diet, restrictions due to marriage, restrictions due to partner, working conditions, food, clothing.

The ninth house covers areas of life such as: rites and ceremonies, types of church, gains from spiritual experiences, gains from psychic experiences, the person's consciousness, the hygienic conditions of the person's home, the care or neglect of property, the mentality of the spouse, the health of the parent of the opposite sex, the end of the life of uncles, restrictions or losses in business, situations of children's romantic relationships.

The tenth house covers areas of life such as: the house of pride, reward karma, grief and loss of friends, long journeys due to money matters, children's health, the cause of death of loved ones, the end of the life of a spouse, money that you can earn from traveling.

The eleventh house covers areas of life such as: societies and organizations to which one belongs, punishments, fines that a person has to pay, the way money is spent, agreements in foreign countries, attitude towards entertainment of the spouse, potential cause of loss of property, health of uncles and aunt on your mother's side.

The twelfth house covers areas of life such as: a symbol of the most difficult battles, a symbol of the most difficult tasks, a symbol of accidents, losses, fate, enemies, hospitals, asylums, the house of spies, the cause of the end of romantic relationships, residence in a foreign country, how someone sleeps and relaxes, house hindsight, self-analysis, friends' finances, friends' acquisitions, closest point of contact with a person's soul.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🧚🏽🪐🎸

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrological houses #astrology observations

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m00nlightshine · 4 months ago

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241015 JUN weibo & instagram

#seventeen #241015 #jun #behind the scene #svt behind #wen junhui #love money fame behind #jun instagram #jun weibo

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theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago

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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,” Franco’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

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yourprettylildoe · 1 month ago

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𝒟ℯ𝓋ℴ𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

Yandere!bodyguard

♡ Money or not, he's always near.

Note: slight violence, implications of a bad relationship.

Once upon a time, you too were a little girl staring at the TV screen all starry eyed. It was a dream of yours to be like one of those lovely women living the life.

Now, you felt what it was like. Basking in the warmthness of luxury and popularity, it was all you ever wanted.

But fame had an ugly side to it.

Forget the hate — the feeling of eyes wathing your every move, picking apart your every expression to the last bit was exhausting. It was a price to pay, a fellow co-star once advised as your career shot up drastically.

Thankfully, the problem didn't really persist. Matteo was by your side. Even if he was getting paid to do so.

The bodyguard had the muscles for the job and his experience was nothing short of amazing. He worked with countless celebrities bigger than you ever would be. Though, that is the bit that confused you. Why would he settle for you? A big name in the fim industry did offer him a job that paid twice than what you did.

He was doing this for the money...

...right?

♡

"Matteo," you sung softly from behind the curtain. Currently, you were at a store and trying on some outfits.

"Yes, ma'am?" Matteo replied, carrying designer bags on both arms.

Strutting out, you twirled around in the dress. It was a pretty blue colour that fitted you perfectly, almost made specifically for you. He swallowed, throat going dry.

You gushed, "Oh, isn't this perfect? I just have to get it. What do you think?"

His mind went a little fuzzy at that, his heart beating thump thump against his chest. Almost as if he forgot how to speak.

No one could rival a sight like yours, and he's seen lots of sights ever since he decided to protect famous figures worldwide from his youth. However, you carried a charisma, an air about you that was so...enticing.

Was it an exaggeration? No.

Well, was it an understatement? 100%.

Before Matteo could even process the overwhelming feelings all at once, your concerned face came into view. "Are you okay?"

Almost frantically, he nodded. "Yes, yes, I'm fine."

The baby blue dress bounced up and down as you beamed, amusement creeping nto your tone.

"Do you not think my dress looks nice?"

How could you even think that? Just seeing you like this made him so giddy like a schoolgirl, because you were trying on dresses for him. It was a privilege.

"N-no, ma'am, it's so..." Matteo breathed out, "...beautiful."

"Then I'll get the dress! It's not everyday you call something beautiful, 'teo!" You clapped your hands, disappearing back into the dressing room and not giving him time to even react at yiur careful consideration of his opinion.

A smile grew upon his lips as heat rushed to his cheeks and the area downwards.

For the first time in all his years of looming over his clients like a shadow, he never felt wanted, the relationships consisting of professional contracts.

He wouldn't get a single cent and still thank you for letting him protect you.

You got him in too deep. Suffer the consequences of your actions.

Surely, keeping him around meant something?

♡

The car halted in front of the gala.

Perched on the backseat, you wore the pretty blue dress along with your hair and makeup styled to match.

Matteo stared longingly at you through the rear-view mirror. Your pouty lips were coated in gloss, a forbidden place he'd never touch but only look

He cleared his throat. "Ready to go in, ma'am?"

With a nod, you both walked into the event. A bombshell and the striking wolf behind her.

Familiar faces painted on forced smiles as they mingled, paparazzi's cameras flickering constantly.

You were the only authentic one.

"Oh, y/n, I just adore your outfit." A woman who walked up to you complimented.

As you thanked her, Matteo watched like a hawk. He couldn't afford any risks especially when someone tried to slip someting in your drink right in front of him last time.

Amidst the crowd, you both failed to notice some of the paparazzi's attention zeroing in on your bodyguard's intense eyes thay never left you.

Click.

It would make a good story.

All it took was one, stupid glance away, then you vanished out of thin air.

Everything went downhill from there.

Like a rabid dog, Matteo tore through the sea of people, his eyes looking around for your gorgeous, unmistakable features.

Where are you?

You can't go. A dog can't be left alone without his owner.

Please be okay.

♡

You were not okay.

"C'mon, honey, I know you want this too!" That disgusting voice pleaded, paired with a sleazy grin.

Your imbecile of an ex boyfriend couldn't seem to take a hint.

Over a year ago, you had to leave the toxic relationship. Along with being a professional cheater, he also seemed to have a masters in manipulation and narcissism. Now, you were stuck with him in a secluded area. Great.

Frantically, you looked around for Mattheo. Surely, he'd be here any minute. Did he not notice your absence?

"Get off of me! I told you I don't want to see you ever again!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking at the end and making you sound so weak.

All it took was a moment of vunerability for him to go absolutely condescending on you, "I missed you too, babe. Stop playing and let's go back to the way we were." You smelt alchohol on his breath, dread filling your stomach. He got the scariest when drunk.

No matter how much you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, he didn't budge. Were the endless articles about your breakup that went on for months not enough to drive him away?

"Leave me alone!"

"Babe, don't play hard to get."

"No, I'm not, go away."

"You are. Let's go ho-"

"No!"

Without thinking, your hand connected with his cheek, leaving a pink mark in its wake.

Slowly, he reached up to touch it in shock, his dumb gaze flickering from you to his hand on his face. Then, those eyes went absolutely feral.

Almost instantly, he pushed you to the floor, making you hit your side with a wince.

In a terrifying voice, he snarled: "Disgusting woman. I don't know what I even saw in a girl like you who thinks she's all that. Ungrateful."

This is what happened every time. It was like a cycle that no matter how much you tried to break, it managed to suck you back into the same scenario with new blooming bruises to match the old ones.

"I should teach you a lesson. Put you back in your place, what do ya think?

Tears filled your eyes as you peered up at him, "p-please no-"

"Shut up!" He barked, "how annoying can you be? I should get it over with, maybe you'll thank me for it someday."

You raised a hand to cover yourself from the-

A certain force collided into his body.

The two figures tumbled to the ground. Wide, almost insane eyes peered into your ex's.

Matteo. He never looked this terrifying, almost possessed.

Over and over again, the guy received punches like hammers to the point where he almost looked unrecognisable. In that moment, all he saw was red.

"You think you can touch her and can get away with it? You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as her, damn it!" Your guard dog snarled, his teeth bared.

The only things that stopped him from killing the pig were the people who held him back, otherwise Mattheo would be in prison. However, it was still a struggle to hold back the muscular hulk.

Matteo glared while he struggled, "If she wasn't here, you'd be six feet under by now."

His fists shook as the voices inside him demanded more.

Kill him.

He touched your girl.

Snapping out of it, he looked over to where you were curled up against the floor, pitiful sobs escaping your lips. Poor thing.

A silhouette crouched down to your level, despite it still towering over you.

The familiar hands, now coated in blood, cupped your face. "Don't cry. See? I took care of him. The punk doesn't deserve your tears."

Your face was tilted up, your teary eyes framed by the smudged eye makeup.

He brought your shivering form to his chest, nose buried in your hair. Your arms wrapped around him, sobbing into his chest, the safe haven you found solace in.

"You should know by now I'd do anything to protect you."

That was a promise he kept and intended to still keep. Even if he wanted to break it, he couldn't.

After all, loyalty was burned and embedded into his soul, like the devoted man he'll always be.

♡

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

#yandere #original story #writing #writes on tumblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #yandere x you #yandere x reader #Yandere blog #Bodyguard #soft yandere #yanderecore #Love

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lotus-slumbers · 28 days ago

Text

Introduction to Platonic Yandere! Superman...? [New Character for Request Unlocked: Yandere! Superman]

There's such a thing as hypocrisy, in the way that police officers will turn a blind eye to their peers' brutality and the way political officials will see the money being handed off underneath tables and turn a blind eye. Protector's turned abusers and servants turned benefactors. The world's corruption runs deep and even those who hold themselves to the highest regard are not exempt from the poison of it. It's just too intoxicating.

— Yandere! Batfam is NOT exempt from this cruel law of nature, no matter how hard they try not to stray from the path of the good and righteous. They crack underneath the pressure of their obsession with you, feed off of each other's own delusions, and unanimously agree that this is true and right, even if society sees it as wrong.

— Yandere! Batfam is good at evading an audience. If they don't want to be seen, they won't be. It's as simple as that. Their power and fame are to be used by them, for their goals, not the prying eye and gossiping tongues of the media.

— Yandere! Batfam doesn't lose a wink of sleep at night about your safety within the manor or how the world may view the situation at hand— how closely it could be misunderstood as a kidnapping, ruining their lives and risking Gotham's safety.

— Yandere! Batfam is secure, just as safe as the massive manor they keep you locked up in. It would take something, someone truly unstoppable to break through their defenses.

— Superman makes quick work of it on an odd Sunday afternoon when he finds you trying to shimmy the lock to the Batcave. He stands behind you for a second, watching the thin hairclip do a sorry job, bending and twisting, while he's trying to recount all of the kids Bruce had taken in over the years.

— Superman even puts a hand up, counting out on his hands. Since when was there another? Was there another? He'd never seen you out on patrol with the Bat and he seemed to love endangering orphans.

— Superman, too caught up in his own thoughts, forgets to even lower himself to the ground like a human would. Instead, he hovers there, a massive form even more imposing when you turn and see him. Would it have been worse for Bruce to find you or Superman?!

— "Couldn't bother to Youtube this beforehand?" There is a small grin on his face. He wouldn't be threatened by such a little thing, especially when you look so scared yourself.

— Superman believes you when you scramble to explain your situation, clinging desperately to him like he was a lifeline. Your hero— he likes the sound of that. Except Superman doesn't believe you completely. At first, he thinks there might be something wrong with you.

— Superman leads you to sit, nodding and patting your shoulder as his eyes rove over you. He's searching, ruling out as much as he can. You don't seem intoxicated, you don't seem like you've sustained a head injury...

— Superman isn't a spy. Or, at least he isn't most of the time. He broke into the Wayne Manor in search of Batman and had made no effort to be subtle about it. The alarms had been set off; his great accomplishment was getting inside in the first place.

— Yandere! Batfam was alerted the moment it happened, each one getting the highest-graded emergency alert for the otherwise silent alarm in the manor. They nearly lose themselves in a panic.

— Superman can only start to make sense of the situation when he's looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Alfred Pennyworth, armed and ready, gives him the kindest and most cordial of smiles as he lowers the gun and makes a quip about using the front door. Alfred is as lethal as a neurotoxin, inducing fatal type paralysis. So few can escape his charm, being lulled into a sense of security and trust.

— Yandere! Batfam nearly breaks the door down when they get there, Bruce and one of his heathens, armed and pointing a katana, followed by another and then two more. It's a mess, really. Once one puts their guard down, realizing who it is, another one comes in ready to kick some ass. Eventually, it all settles but the small one with a katana never lowers his blade >:))

— It doesn't take Superman long to figure out just how pissed off Yandere! Batfam is, especially Yandere! Bruce Wayne. Even with his weapons put back away, he looks like he would half the mind to jump him. But, behind that normal annoyance and passive-aggressive remarks Clark is used to getting from Batman, there's something else. For the first time in his life, Superman thinks he sees Batman anxious.

— Superman is scolded. Dick Grayson pulls you from underneath his grasp and his wing instead. This is your only chance, though, God be damned the repercussions you'll suffer later if it doesn't work. You struggle, you cry. "They've kidnapped me!" An awkward tension fills the room. Tim avoided eye contact, Jason stone-faced and glaring alongside Damian, just daring him to try something. Dick joins Alfred in a smile, loudly laughing like the whole thing is a joke.

— Superman makes perfect sense of the situation when Bruce tells him with a genuinely heartbroken look that you're "not well" and "can't understand what's going on." Clark and Bruce may have their differences and fallingouts from time to time, but there's hardly anyone else he knows he can trust and count on. Hardly anyone else he can say is, genuinely, a good man.

— Seeing you cry like that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, lowering himself down a little and softening his voice to apologize to you. When you don't answer him, now defeated and grieving your failed attempt in the safety of Dick's embrace, it feels worst than a gut punch for Superman. He caused this, he thinks. Bruce only reinforces this guilt when he tells him that they should head somewhere else and talk, ordering the rest of Yandere! Batfam to take care of you and bring you back upstairs to get some rest.

— So, Superman finds himself in the Batcave, relaying important information and threats back to Batman, distracted by the thought of you. He's no good at hiding it, either. Your tears had gotten to him.

— Good, Yandere! Bruce Wayne thinks. Superman has been convinced.

— But... doubt and anxiety still lay underneath his stoic expression. When the topic comes back around to you, right in the middle of Yandere! Bruce Wayne trying to usher him back out the door again, he has to humor him and lay it on him thick because if there's anyone in the world who stood a chance at taking his precious child away from him, it would be the man of steel.

— So, when the Man of Steel insists that he should come back in a week to check on you, to ease his mind (and doubts), Yandere! Bruce Wayne has no choice but to agree and to thank him for wanting to help. It would just be all the more suspicious if he denied him.

— Yandere! Superman does just that exactly a week later to the day and hour, having not stopped thinking about you the whole time he was away...

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bbokarimenu · 2 months ago

Text

Heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

pairing: idoldadbangchan! x fem reader!

genre: Angst

warnings: none

an: Love is a journey, not a destination. Thank you for reading! ❤️

Masterlist

The soft hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand was the only sound breaking the stillness of the room. I sat on the edge of our bed, staring at the digital clock glowing 2:37 AM. My chest tightened as I fought the urge to cry.

Bang Chan wasn’t here again.

It had been weeks since he’d had a proper day off, weeks since we’d spent more than a fleeting moment together as a family. He was always working—writing, producing, rehearsing. And while I knew his role as the leader of Stray Kids demanded so much of him, it felt like his role as a father and partner had taken a backseat.

A soft cry crackled through the baby monitor, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“Shh, I’m coming,” I whispered to no one, pulling myself together and heading into the nursery.

Our daughter, Luna, lay in her crib, her tiny face scrunched up as she whimpered. I reached in, scooping her up gently, and began rocking her in my arms.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” I cooed. “Mommy’s here.”

Her cries subsided into soft sniffles, and I kissed her forehead, inhaling the faint scent of baby powder.

I felt a pang of sadness as I looked down at her. She deserved more than this. More than just me. She deserved her dad too.

The front door creaked open just after 4 AM. I was sitting on the couch, Luna finally asleep in her bassinet beside me.

Chan stepped inside, his shoulders slumped and his hoodie pulled low over his face. He looked exhausted, but when he saw me sitting there, his eyes widened in surprise.

“(Y/N), you’re still awake?”

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “How could I sleep when I don’t even know if you’re coming home anymore?”

He winced, shutting the door quietly behind him. “I’m sorry. Practice ran late, and then I had some things to finish in the studio—”

“It’s always practice or the studio or something else,” I interrupted, my voice trembling with frustration. “Do you even realize how long it’s been since you spent time with us? With her?” I motioned toward the bassinet.

His gaze flickered to Luna, and guilt flashed across his face. “I know. I know I’ve been… absent. But you know how important this is. I’m doing this for us. For her future.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Her future? Chan, she doesn’t need all the money or fame in the world. She needs her dad. I need you.”

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” I asked, standing up. “Because it feels like your best is reserved for everyone else but us.”

His shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)? Quit? Walk away from everything I’ve worked for?”

“I’m not asking you to quit,” I said, my voice softening. “I’m asking you to find a balance. To make time for the family you chose to have.”

He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he nodded, his expression weary. “You’re right. I’ve been… I’ve been failing you. Both of you. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did.

Days turned into weeks, and while Chan did make more of an effort to be present, it still felt like his heart was elsewhere. He’d hold Luna and play with her, but his phone was always nearby, his mind half in another world.

One evening, after putting Luna to bed, I found him in the living room with his laptop open. He was reviewing tracks, his headphones on, completely absorbed.

“Chan,” I said, standing in the doorway.

He didn’t respond.

“Chan,” I said again, louder this time.

He finally looked up, pulling his headphones off. “What’s up?”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “Is this what it’s always going to be like? You here, but not really here?”

He frowned, closing his laptop. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us,” I said, stepping closer. “I’m talking about how I feel like I’m raising Luna on my own while you chase this dream that seems more important than we are.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You knew what you were signing up for when we started this. You knew my career would demand a lot of me.”

“I didn’t know it would mean losing you,” I shot back, tears spilling over.

His face softened, and he stood, reaching for me. “(Y/N), don’t say that. You haven’t lost me.”

“Haven’t I?” I whispered, pulling away. “Because it feels like I’m standing here begging for scraps of your time, your attention. And I shouldn’t have to beg, Chan. We shouldn’t have to beg.”

He looked at me, pain etched across his face, but he didn’t say anything. And in that silence, I felt my heart break a little more.

That night, I packed a bag for Luna and me.

I didn’t want to leave. I loved Chan more than anything, but I couldn’t keep living like this. I couldn’t keep feeling like we were an afterthought in his life.

When he found me in the nursery, his eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“I need some space,” I said, my voice trembling. “I need to figure out what’s best for Luna and me.”

“(Y/N), please,” he said, his voice desperate. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave.”

“I don’t want to,” I admitted, tears streaming down my face. “But I can’t keep waiting for you to choose us.”

He reached for me, his hands trembling. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll do better, I swear. Just don’t go.”

I looked at him, my heart breaking at the sight of his tears. “I love you, Chan. But love isn’t enough if we’re the only ones fighting for this.”

With that, I picked up Luna and walked out the door, leaving behind the man I loved and the life we had built together.

The days that followed were some of the hardest of my life. I stayed with my sister, trying to find clarity amidst the chaos of my emotions.

Chan called and texted every day, apologizing, begging for another chance. I wanted to forgive him, to run back into his arms and pretend everything was okay. But I knew we needed more than just promises.

One evening, about two weeks after I left, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find Chan standing there, holding a small bouquet of flowers and a stuffed bunny for Luna. He looked exhausted, but there was a determination in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

He sat down on the couch, his hands trembling as he set the flowers and toy on the table. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he began. “About us. About everything.”

I sat across from him, waiting.

“You were right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I’ve been neglecting the most important people in my life. And I hate myself for it.”

Tears filled my eyes, but I didn’t say anything.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continued. “I don’t want to lose our family. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. To be the husband and father you both deserve.”

“Chan,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I don’t need perfection. I just need you to try. To really try.”

He reached across the table, taking my hands in his. “I will. I swear, (Y/N). You and Luna are my everything. And I’m going to prove it to you every day.”

Looking into his eyes, I saw the sincerity there. The love. The man I had fallen in love with.

Maybe it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe we had a long road ahead of us. But for the first time in weeks, I felt hope.

And that was enough to take the first step toward healing together.

#kpop imagines #stray kids imagines #bangchan imagines #bang chan angst #dad chan #lee felix fluff #lee know #lee felix #skz x reader #stray kids #skz imagines #bang chan smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

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ladybyakuya · 5 months ago

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| ALL I WANTED + GOJO SATORU .

+cw. — female!wife!reader x clan-head!husband!(sub)!gojo satoru, arrange marriage, hurt, angst, canon typical elements, smut, f!masturbation + m!masturbation & orgasm interruption.

+wc. — 2.3k

+syn.— satoru comes home from a bunch of missions only to find his wife in their shared bedroom not wanting him, or waiting for him but busy seeking pleasure that was his share to pour into you.

+notes. — special thanks to @gojoest for hyping me up with this idea. & thanks to @sugurouge for beta reading otherwise this never get posted lol | redirect to blog navigation.

The current head of the clan you belong to, your father stands facing his back to you. He is now the housemaster, not your father. “You’re going to be married,” said he, as his palms remained tightly clasped at his back while he looked out through the window. What you once called home became a distant memory in an instant. “You’re going to be married—” as his face turned towards you, “to Gojo Satoru.” you could figure out why he was looking away. “That monster!” he screams tears streaming down his face as his lips tremble in rage and disbelief; how of all people did the marriage broker who has been his friend for a long time have even agreed with such a decision? The thought of him suggesting the idea to the council does not even cross your father’s mind. How utterly naive! a low grunt followed as your father swatted away his chair knocking it down to the ground before killing every bit of hope you had despite the rumors. “This marriage. . . it is nothing but a hopeless dream. ”

Yes! You knew that already. The housemaids and staff just love to gossip about the doom of their sole source of bread and butter. The moment your father summoned you into his study room and told you the news while staring at the greenery of the garden of this mansion you knew your life was going to turn upside down and it did, just like you expected yet you were still disappointed, frustrated even when you came back to your room.

Satoru Gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in history ever known since Sukuna Ryomen was sealed. No other name has ever made it to the pages of jujutsu history. He is at the top of the jujutsu society regarding status, power, fame, and money. So, what do you do with the strongest of all? worship them out of devotion? subdue them with offerings lest it might lash out? swearing loyalty out of fear? Those were the thoughts that stemmed at the back of your mind when you first came to know about the fact that you were going to be the wife of the Gojo Satoru from a maid whose life never even crossed the threshold of your home. Her world was limited to the mossy parts of the mansion you resided in. Still, she could tell what kind of marriage you would be walking into.

Nothing shocking happened even on the night of your wedding. It was just as you anticipated. Two different futons were kept side by side. There was no sharing of words, glances, or kakebuton . Just both of your backs faced each other. At dawn, you woke up with your wedding kimono intact, a stainless white futon, and an empty room without Gojo.

The maids here knew better than to talk about it, even behind your back. They were aware of the power and status you held and that made everything a lot worse than you expected it to be. You had access to a lot of things, the family history archives, the financial sources, his previous missions— everything tied to him. Your husband, Gojo Satoru, was the clan head as well as the master of this mansion so there were no elderly people pushing responsibilities onto your shoulders like back at home. There was a sense of serenity in the air but how could you breathe it in for the rest of your life?

Satoru Gojo was the kind of man whom one could easily desire. Despite being his wife and the future mother of his children, trying to love him felt like a cyanide for you. You wanted your husband, not some Satoru Gojo oozing with knowledge and power. You wanted to look him in the eye, not just his back which you barely get a glimpse of at the crack of dawn as he occupies the sad side of the bed under a separate duvet. In earlier stages of this marriage, there was no curtain separating you and your husband’s side of the bed but after a month of utter silence and stealing glances, the first thing he installed was a curtain in the shared canopy bed. If he needed some privacy he could easily ask you to shift into another room but he bothered to talk one of those clan servants to install a fucking curtain as if the silence was not enough of a gulf in between you two.

Sometimes you thought that he was cheating on you but you always pushed it under the rug telling yourself, “You’re the wife of Satoru Gojo. No one can take that from you unless you walk out of this marriage. Not your father. Not that marriage broker —”

— Not even Gojo Satoru himself because he only married you to silence those nosy elders of his clan who pretend to be oh-so-worried for him. You were not foreign to that concept, after all, you are wrapped in the same shroud for all your life.

“You’re the wife of Gojo Satoru . . .No one . . .”

“You’re the wife of Gojo Satoru . . .”

“You’re the wife . . .”

“You’re . . .”

But the thought of getting his dick sucked by some other woman or man, or him putting his dick into someone — it filled you with too much anger to sleep in bed that night. For the first time, you miss home because there you are free to go anywhere even at night.

Satoru came home early that night, which was odd for his schedule, and was greeted with an empty bed after a long while. The sky is yet to be cracked open by sunlight. It is still too dark to be wandering around. Where could his wife have been gone to at this hour? He takes a spoonful of strawberry ice cream from the giant tub he held in his other hand before starting to look for you. But where should he look first? He does not know anything except the fact that he had put veils in different places of his house just to keep this house free of low-energy cursed spirits. Those veils sure did their job well but sometimes they would keep out non-sorcerers, people like you. His heart rejoices at the thought that he has to look for you in places only he is aware of, which means this is going to take a little less time, and he will find you much faster. Come to think of it, he has not been in the library section for a while but it is still as spotless as the first day he came here. Have you been visiting? Man! That sure worries him.

The pink layer of the tub has come down to half along with its skin being wet while the spoon is still experiencing the fierce appetite that Satoru had for anything sweet. He stands at the entrance of a long hallway before checking, thinking that this is the last place he has to look for but could it be possible that you were embarrassed enough to go back to your home?

Ahh…ahhh!

The spoon hits the wooden floor with a dull clatter as a wretched realization comes crashing down through his veins. Have you been cheating on him all this time? In his house? With some lowly servant ? Well, that sure makes it easier to end this sham of a marriage. He opens the door of a certain archive room as swiftly as possible trying to minimize the sound of his presence, making sure he does not shock you awake from your rendezvous. He is determined to catch you red-handed but when he opens the door he witnesses something that could have knocked the lights off his brain if he were not one of the greatest sorcerers of his time. The sight was not something of a fair appetite for ordinary people yet you sat by the marble slab of the giant window, with one of your arms nuked under your sapphire jinbei in between your legs as your skin glowed under that pale moonlight as if diamonds and pearls were embedded on your skin.

You were sweating, arching your body, moaning and all your husband could do was watch in awe. Your free hand travels from the bottom of your cleavage and up to the apex of your nape as you turn your head opening your eyes for a brief moment. You see the world so blurred that it spikes your approaching high, but as you open your eyes for the second time your high is gone like it never existed. Your husband, Gojo Satoru stood before you like an ivory statue of certain abandoned ruined cathedrals. The dress covers most of your body so a wave of relief washes over him despite realizing how dangerous the spot you chose . . .to . . .umh. . . pleasure yourself .

How long? How long was he watching you ? You shift your body to face him, and your hand slowly emerges from the warmth between your thighs. Satoru tries to ignore but traces of your arousal and his yearning are flourishing like fluorescence on your fingers as it rests on your thigh. You watch him gulp. Suddenly, Gojo Satoru is out of words. Teacher to his students of Jujutsu High, the strongest sorcerer, Nanami’s certified yapper is suddenly out of words. The slight slice of your boobs visible through your robe does not help either in the coherency of his thoughts. He had plans. He had plans to walk out of this marriage without being tainted as a “cheater” because the jujutsu society is so fucked up that they will not stop until they found this particular person that had made this marriage impossible to work on so that you, the wife, had to walk out it and dear God, they certainly are not fond of obstructions.

“What a nice place you chose to—” he finally looks away to keep the tub of semi-molten room-temperature strawberry ice cream on some bookshelf but before he could shift back his gaze on you again you were gone like a storm. The sound of your footsteps echoed in his ear till it stopped before he heard the click of a door. He does not understand if you are just too dumb or too brave to act the way you are acting right now. He follows you as a grunt of dismissal escapes from his chest. As he stands in front of the bathroom door he drowns yet again in utmost disbelief. He can still hear your shrill gasp of pleasure and he is not liking how his cock is responsive to it. At first, he hesitates to touch himself but the faint sound of your moans, the wet squelching sounds of your fingers moving in and out of your damp folds despite the door of the bathroom being locked buzzes in his ears like bees out in the hunt of honey.

Satoru gave up . You hear a thud as you continue to finger yourself knowing full well that your husband must have followed you all the way here after witnessing you in such a state. Indeed, you could have been accused of cheating on him without him checking the door and it would have been much worse. He sits against the bathroom door unfurling the black ribbon with a swish to take his cock out of his baggy white pants. The tip is already leaking. His cock is throbbing in his palm as he encapsulates his fingers around it, moving his fingers up and down slowly. On the other side of the door, as you could finally feel the pinnacle of your high you heard a soft groan; a pain, that seemed familiar, was palpable underneath that shrill cry of pleasure. Still when your fingers touched the part inside you that almost felt like unknotting something from inside you, at the basal of your navel Satoru’s hand moved faster to chase the similar high that had started to bubble in his body under the influence of your ripples of pleasure. You heard your husband moan as tears rolled down your cheeks when you closed your eyes feeling the knot finally unwinding.

Perhaps, both of you came simultaneously. Perhaps not, because you immediately opened the door after you had calmed from your high, only to be greeted with Satoru sitting right at the opposite wall of the bathroom door, legs folded in L-manner so that he could keep his hand over his knee. His cock is still visible through his white pants and it is still so hard. One of your eyebrows raises in silent reply . Satoru notices that. He looks at you and then looks away. You extend your hand towards his face, gaining his stern azure pair of eyes shining against whatever dim light the crack of the bathroom door could allow. There was no sign of resistance in him so as your palm touched his cheeks, you waited and gave him time to protest. yet none ever followed, instead, he surrendered to your touch, and your fingers curled under his chin as you ran your thumb over his lips. Satoru coiled against your touch imbibing as much as he could like a tide being high enough to touch the moon . . .a familiar voice shocked both of you awake.

“Lady Gojo. . .”

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