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#the unrequited is strong with this one
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I can't help but think about what if Buggy was raised in White Beard's ship rather than with the Rogers? In my heart of hearts I really do want to believe that Rogers cared and treasured Buggy like he did Shanks but afaik Shanks feels like a favorite; he's given the strawhat, and there's the Wano flashback of the Roger pirates about to face off the Whitebeards, and Shanks is wearing Roger's current captain hat on top of the straw hat while he's munching on some chocolate (😭) and idk, it makes me feel for the little clown
Whitebeard seems like he's a better father figure than Rogers considering his treasure is his family, so I wonder if he would have a better understanding of how Buggy feels, and how to raise a kid who doesn't take to battle as quickly as the other kids (let's say Marco bc he probably is the only other kid in the ship). Would Whitebeard celebrate and praise Buggy for his creative inventions and bombs? Would he encourage Buggy to be the flashiest boy of the Grand line, and to wear his red nose proud bc no matter what, he loves Buggy the way he is anyway? Idk I'm just thinking about what if Buggy wasn't broken and jaded :')
I'm still a Shuggy enjoyer so I want Shanks to be still a part of Buggy's childhood. What if Shanks is interested in Whitebeard's youngest bc he's also a kid too, and he's super eye catching. Shanks probably tries to fight Buggy but he gets overwhelmed by Buggy's bombs or whatever, or because Buggy's too good at dodging and/or running away (Whitebeard probably clues in that Buggy's not battle heavy, but he has immense potential when it comes to escapes and getting out of danger). Shanks just falls in love with this kid who he can't quite grasp and always looks forward to seeing again. Or maybe Shanks also gets adopted as a Whitebeard, but Whitebeard's parenting polishes Shanks and Buggy's strengths in a way where one doesn't feel inferior to the other and they're both happy kids. Lots of maybes...
Case and point, Buggy as a Whitebeard would maybe fix him 😭
buggy as a whitebeard pirate… i do think he ends up mentally healthier for it, but not necessarily because “roger’s a bad dad”—imo he’s not trying to be anyone’s dad, he’s buggy and shanks’ captain, it’s a different relationsh—*a long hook drags me offstage*
ahem. anyway.
potential upsides to being a whitebeard pirate:
if buggy’s in whitebeard’s crew, he is whitebeard’s family. there’s no room for doubt, he joined the crew this morning and has already been called ‘son’ three times.
lots of support, resources, etc. should he eat the chop-chop fruit. this is a crew with a lot of devil fruit experience, they know how to deal with the limitations that arise. if buggy mopes and complains about not being able to search for treasure underwater, i bet somebody comes up with a diving suit or a little submersible boat he can use; if he wants to swim, they find him a fresh water pool; etc.
there’s not just two kids around—he’ll get less focused attention, yeah, but the same is true for everyone. cap’n dad might play favorites, but i think that not being the favorite hurts more when there’s only two options. when there’s five, ten, dozens of other kids fighting for his attention… well, buggy might be bitter about not being the favorite, but he surely knew the odds weren’t in his favor. also, not being codependently reliant on one single peer/friend can do wonders for your mental health.
no childhood trauma over the crew breaking up and the captain dying!
potential downsides to being a whitebeard pirate:
he never gets to leave the nest. whitebeard pirates who want leadership roles can become division commanders; if they want an independent leadership role, i guess they can become captains of whitebeard subordinate crews? but it seems to me that they only leave if they die, retire, or turn traitor. i think buggy would find that stifling. whitebeard: the world’s most powerful helicopter parent?
there’s not just two kids around—if focused attention turns out to be something buggy really needs, that’s a shame, because he’s not gonna get it.
this is not a crew that cares about finding treasure or going on grand adventures. i don’t think buggy is gonna be too happy about whitebeard’s “the real treasure was the family we found along the way” ethos. though maybe he just ignores this, the way ace ignored whitebeard’s lack of interest in the pirate king title.
adulthood trauma over the captain dying and the crew falling apart/being destroyed by a traitor!
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laurikarauchscat · 2 months
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"Little sister!" The woman calls her, smile just as beautiful as Ciri remembers.
Her body, warm and soft and fun, envelops the travel weary soul.
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sunreisets · 6 months
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no one gonna write logan/oscar ft lando/oscar unrequited love au? i’ll take the matter on my hands <3
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kyouka-supremacy · 9 months
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"#Also rip to the pages that fueled my sskk unrequited love agenda for one years " Oh you're finally done ? Even after you saw the confirmation it was requited I still saw you clinging to it so I'm surprised
Okay I elaborated plenty on my thoughts on unrequited sskk in the last ask but “oh you're finally done with your sskk unrequited love agenda” may as well be the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me. Long story short the anime may have deleted its potential canon basis and the manga may have disproven it in the meantime anyway but I'm taking my unrequited sskk agenda with me to the grave by sheer power of not caring about what canon says
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canisonicscrewyou · 1 year
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she’s insane she’s a wet cat of a human being she’s got daddy and mommy issues up to here she’s pathetic she’s everything she’s a breakthrough case she’s in hiding she’s forever mourning she’s a mom she’s got trauma she doesn’t even know how to find a therapist for she loves her friends and she secretly loves attention and if one things for certain she’s never stepping foot inside of the TARDIS ever again (a lie)
#rehashing a cringey self insert OC from 2014 but making her cringe in all new ways#unsure if I’m ever going to properly write anything w her again (to share w anyone at least bc a bitch has been writing)#but at the very least it’s been fun rehashing this OC. Molly Archer you were never stable enough to be a normal companion <33#but yet you keep getting dragged back in#she does eventually get a therapist for the Issues arising from the Everything (not related to why she had one before of course)#she just finds a fantastical allegory to let her therapist wrap their head around a fantastical situation#that eventually ends with ‘yeah so I think one of my soulmates died but immediately came back as a close friend who rightfully#denied my (obviously unrequited) feelings. we had a kid. she’s kind of fucked up medically because of it. he found out and tried to hate me#about it. life moves on I guess lmao lmao’#it’s also okay bc her kid grows up fine-ish and then gets dragged into her own alien fuckshit for being A Special I guess#do adore that her kid is like a Top Ten Doctor Hater. not an enemy she just hates his guts and mostly grew out of it after her teenage years#passed#is anyone still reading this bc it’s half incomprehensible#if I write anything it’s going to be so self indulgent#but for now I just have. playlists.#if you read all or most of the tags you’re so so strong. and also should hit me up(earnest) if you want to listen to me ramble more about#this. brainworms in my head
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reginaofdoctorwho · 2 years
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everyone tells you your friends will drift apart once you all graduate but no one tells you how much it fucking hurts
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villetteulogy · 1 year
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I’m about to start climbing the walls
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neon-angels-system · 2 years
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I need to stop falling in love w every fem/nb person who is slightly pretty + nice to me. that’s not happen but it’s nice to imagine /lh -V
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chemicalarospec · 9 days
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now that it's over (seriously over btw everyone, i'm going to try to post the duology but the rest of the death note fics will probably rot in the google drive), I feel like my Death Note phase was actually one of my more insane fandom choices -- it's just very out of character for me. Like, objectively, Sethon is WAYY stranger (... yeah i'm writing their romance blossiming over christmas WHAT ABOUT IT), but looking back at my past fandoms, it makes a lot of sense. Death Note was a complete left turn from youtuber-based fandoms (before I got a tumblr, my fandom right before dnp was sanders sides so there's truly a history there haha), and honestly I'm glad I didn't follow the path farther? It just doesn't feel like me.
(Well, Lawlight was definitely a couple right up my alley, but maybe the overwhelming aro(ace) vibes of Light changed that too much for me to engage as i normally would. On the other hand, I have a list of my favorite ship tropes, and Sethon only fits one of them??? ("rpf dynamic" lmao))
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imastoryteller · 12 days
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20 Emotional Wounds in Fiction That Make Readers Root for the Character
Abandonment: Characters who have been abandoned by loved ones or caregivers can evoke sympathy from readers.
Betrayal: Being betrayed by someone close can create deep emotional wounds that make readers empathize with the character.
Loss of a Loved One: Whether through death or separation, the loss of a loved one can be a powerful emotional wound.
Rejection: Characters who experience rejection, whether in relationships or by society, can be relatable and evoke empathy.
Abuse: Physical, emotional, or psychological abuse can create complex wounds that shape a character's personality and behavior.
Neglect: Characters who have been neglected, especially in childhood, can evoke sympathy from readers.
Failure: Experiencing a significant failure or loss can create emotional wounds that make characters more relatable.
Guilt: Characters who carry guilt for past actions or decisions can be compelling and evoke empathy from readers.
Shame: Feelings of shame can create internal conflict and make characters more relatable and sympathetic.
Injustice: Characters who have experienced injustice or unfair treatment can evoke strong emotions from readers.
Trauma: Characters who have experienced traumatic events, such as war or natural disasters, can be sympathetic and relatable.
Loneliness: Characters who feel lonely or isolated can evoke empathy from readers who have experienced similar feelings.
Fear: Characters who face their fears or struggle with phobias can be relatable and evoke empathy from readers.
Self-doubt: Characters who struggle with self-doubt or low self-esteem can be relatable and evoke sympathy.
Identity Crisis: Characters who are grappling with questions of identity or struggling to find their place in the world can be sympathetic.
Addiction: Characters who struggle with addiction can be complex and evoke empathy from readers.
Betrayal of Trust: Characters who have had their trust betrayed can be sympathetic and relatable.
Unrequited Love: Characters who experience unrequited love can be sympathetic and evoke empathy from readers.
Isolation: Characters who feel isolated or disconnected from others can be relatable and evoke sympathy.
Fear of Failure: Characters who struggle with a fear of failure can be relatable and evoke empathy from readers.
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theambitiouswoman · 10 months
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Types of relationships that look like love but are not:
Infatuation: This is an intense emotional or sexual attraction to someone that can give the illusion of love. However, infatuation is often based on idealized perceptions rather than a deep emotional connection.
Codependency: Codependent relationships involve one person excessively relying on another for emotional or physical needs. This dependency can mimic love, but it is rooted in the need for validation, control, or a sense of purpose.
Unrequited love: This refers to a situation where one person has romantic feelings for another, but those feelings are not reciprocated. It may involve one-sided affection, longing, or an obsession with someone who does not feel the same way.
Limerence: Limerence is an intense and obsessive form of attraction characterized by intrusive thoughts, longing for reciprocation, and an idealized image of the other person. It can feel like love, but it often lacks a genuine emotional connection.
Conditional love: In relationships based on conditional love, affection and care are only given when certain conditions or expectations are met. This type of relationship lacks unconditional acceptance and can be manipulative or controlling.
Trauma bond: A trauma bond forms when two individuals share intense emotional experiences, often negative or abusive. Despite the harmful dynamics, there may be a strong attachment due to the shared trauma, leading to a mistaken perception of love.
Transactional relationships: These relationships are based on mutual benefit or convenience rather than genuine emotional connection. Partners may stay together for financial security, social status, or other practical reasons, rather than genuine love and affection.
Manipulative relationships: Manipulative relationships involve one person exerting control and power over the other through emotional manipulation, coercion, or gaslighting. The manipulator may feign love and affection to gain control or exploit their partner's vulnerabilities.
Fantasy relationships: In fantasy relationships, one or both partners create an idealized version of the other person, often based on unrealistic expectations or fantasies. The relationship may lack a true emotional connection, as it is based on the person's fantasy rather than the reality of who their partner is.
One-sided relationships: These relationships are characterized by an imbalance of effort, care, or emotional investment. One person may consistently give more while the other takes without reciprocation. It can create an illusion of love, but it lacks equality and mutual respect.
Love addiction: Love addiction refers to a compulsive or obsessive pattern of seeking out relationships and being dependent on the euphoric feeling of being in love. It can lead to a cycle of unhealthy relationships, as the person seeks constant validation and excitement without addressing underlying emotional issues.
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foreverdolly · 26 days
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)
word count: 3.5k
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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 
Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 
Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 
Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 
The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 
You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 
“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 
There it was. The truth. 
Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 
“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 
Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 
Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 
You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.
 It was a guard. 
So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 
He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 
“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 
Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 
You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 
You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 
Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 
With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 
“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 
Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 
And so they did. 
The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 
 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 
This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 
Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 
But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 
Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 
“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 
He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 
Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 
He had to pay for what he did to you. 
And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 
The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 
The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 
“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 
His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 
And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 
Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 
You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 
Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 
The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 
You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 
“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 
Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 
The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 
Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 
“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 
You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 
Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 
“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 
Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 
“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 
“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 
You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 
“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 
You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 
“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 
Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 
“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 
“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 
You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 
“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 
Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 
“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 
He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 
You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 
“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 
You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 
You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 
“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 
Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 
“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 
“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 
You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 
“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 
“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 
“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 
“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 
You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 
You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 
One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 
Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 
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yuujispinkhair · 3 months
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You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.
-> This is Part 2 of this drabble
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Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.
This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.
Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby
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It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.
Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.
You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,
"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"
And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.
Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,
"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"
You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.
He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.
He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.
He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.
You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.
It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.
Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.
If only things were different.
It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.
You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.
You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.
Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?
The thought makes your heart throb painfully.
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Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.
You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.
Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.
Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,
"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."
You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.
But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.
You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,
"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."
There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.
"No problem, princess."
You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.
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You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.
You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.
I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.
But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.
A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.
Maybe you should leave.
What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?
What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.
He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.
Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.
Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.
Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.
Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.
For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.
But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,
"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"
You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.
You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.
Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.
You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.
You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.
He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.
You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.
He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.
And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.
His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.
When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,
"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."
You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.
"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."
He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.
You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.
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You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.
You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.
Until it lands on you.
It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.
He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,
"Need one of my shirts again?"
You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.
He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.
And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.
His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.
He jokingly asks you,
"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"
And you chuckle and tell him,
"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."
You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.
He tells you to keep his shirt this time.
"So you have something to sleep in."
And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:
"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"
He scrunches his nose at that,
"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"
"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."
The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.
Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.
When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,
"You make me feel less alone, too."
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Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.
No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.
It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.
You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.
You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.
Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.
He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.
You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.
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"I like you."
Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.
Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.
You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.
The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,
"I like you so fucking much."
Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:
"I like you too."
Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.
He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,
"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."
"Sukuna..."
Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,
"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."
You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.
You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.
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It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.
You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.
You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too. 
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You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,
"Mine."
His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,
"All yours."
Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:
"Just like I am all yours."
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I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.
Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤
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kteezy997 · 2 months
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The Emperor's Wife// Paul Atreides
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Warnings: angst, unrequited love, slow burn kinda
"That princess shall have no more of me than my name. No child of mine nor touch nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire." The promise of Paul Atreides as he ascended your father's throne was held true for some time. But his words began to falter in time, against his will.
He married you, but remained loyal to his concubine, Chani. But he did acknowledge that you had a literary nature, and he entrusted you to sit in on his council meetings as Emperor. The more time you spent around each other, the more you became companions, and the more he relied on your mind to help him keep a balance of things.
You noticed as Paul started to become more relaxed around you. He'd even have a laugh with you now and then. It was clear that he valued your friendship as much as your ability to write and make sense of things.
One day Paul joked that Chani was his wife of passion and you were his intellectual wife. Your feelings had started to form into deep admiration for your husband, so his words were course against your ears. Though you knew that this was the way it had to be, it wasn't any easier to hear him say it.
But there was a look from him, a look where he scanned you, slowly, from head to toe. Your special training had kicked in. You could feel it; it was desire. He thought his momentary glance would go undetected, but that was nary the case.
All the late evenings in the council room, all the discussions you had about history and his interest in your writings, it all bubbled up to his vow being broken. You caught his gaze in a meeting later, and his green eyes could no longer lie to you. He was curious and desirous of you. But he could not do anything about it. He simply could not act on it.
But you, on the other hand, were tired of the intellectual relationship. This feeling was different for you, and you never expected to fall for him. Your body ached, your skin burned for your husband. Even if it was just once, you had to have him.
You hated to admit to yourself the jealousy you felt toward his Fremen woman. You wanted to feel what Chani felt. Just one full moment of Paul's desire. You needed his touch. To exchange passionate breaths with him. To have the weight of the handsome Emperor on top of you. To have his eyes on you, and only you.
..........
You ventured to Paul's sietch, into the private apartment he shared with Chani. The Fremen in the village knew you, so they did not try to stop you, or persuade you to leave. They welcomed you with respect, as you were indeed Muad’Dib’s wife.
The room was quite plain and modest for an Emperor and his woman. The bed, however, looked cozy with glow globes on either side. The scent of cinnamon and coffee hung in the air, laced with the spice melange.
You hoped he'd come soon. You hoped he would be the first one in, and not Chani. You didn't know what to say to her, if that would be the case. She had always been pleasant toward you when you were around her, but you didn’t know if her attitude would remain the same if she knew you wanted to bed her man.
You hoped that he wouldn't be harsh towards you; that he wouldn’t be angry about you invading the space he shared with his concubine. You liked to think that you had broken his walls and exposed the tender side of him. You sat on the bed, waiting.
Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, there was a tired huff from the person outside the door, and you knew the voice instantly. Paul came in, pulling off his still suit the second he entered. He didn't see you at first. You saw his shoulders and chest as he rid himself of the rubbery material. He was strong, with hard muscles and pale skin with minor scars here and there.
You could smell the dirt and sweat that he carried. It did not deter you in the slightest, but made you more eager.
He could sense you there. You knew he could.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, without even turning to face you.
You took a shaky breath, then answered, "I wanted to see you, Paul."
He finished freeing his arms from the constrictive suit, turning to look at you sitting on his bed. "And why?"
You were excited just seeing his shoulders, but now you saw his naked chest, his hard pectoral muscles and small nipples. You nearly shuddered with need. "I-uhm," I want you. "I wanted to make sure that you saw how bright and beautiful the two moons look this evening. And maybe you'd like to see my latest Muad'Dib chronicle?"
Paul nodded, "Hm." He stepped over to the window, looking up at the moons, "They are quite beautiful tonight."
You rose from the bed, joining him by the window. You could really feel his presence now, as you usually didn't get quite this close to him. His scent was stronger, too. "I brought my latest writings. If you want to read."
"Sure. You may leave them here."
He was so polite, but never overly kind. He couldn't disrespect Chani. But you so wanted things to change between you and your husband.
"Paul, I really came here to talk to you about something."
He took his eyes off the night sky outside his window and looked into your eyes. "Go on."
Your heart started thumping in your chest, you cleared your throat. "Well, I do not wish to overstep, but I think you and I have both come to enjoy our time together. I think it is safe to say that we are good friends now." You got stuck for second as you got a close look of the sweat glistening on his skin in the glowing light of the dark room.
Paul softly smiled, giving you a nod to keep going.
"But, I need you to know that no matter how amazing the moons might be on a starry night, it is no match for the way I feel when I look at you."
His expression fell, and he shook his head, "Y/n, please. I am very flattered. I appreciate you, and I care for you."
You butted in, "I can sense that you desire me, Paul. You've already broken your oath. I know that you feel distant towards your concubine, and I wonder if it has anything to do with how you feel about me."
He chuckled, walking away from you, "I thought you said you didn't wish to overstep?"
"I cannot help it. I'm sorry. But you know my training." You genuinely didn't want to disrupt anything between him and Chani.
He ran his hand over his face, pushing away the exhaustion of the day, trying to make sense of his own feelings as well. "Y/n, you aren't wrong. Chani knows that my sentiments for you have shifted."
So he admits it!
"You haven't bedded her for weeks now, have you?" you prodded, carefully.
"No," he stepped closer to you, towering over you by several inches, "not that it is any of your business."
"I don't want to make you angry, Paul. But I have seen the way you look at me, the way you brush passed me during council. You've preferred spending more and more time with me lately." You took a step forward this time, just a foot's length away from him.
Paul let his guard down, knowing that you were right about everything. His face softened, and he brought his hand up to caress your face. His hand had been roughed up by the wind and sand if the desert, but you could still see yourself melting against it as he touched you.
Paul went on to say, "You should know by now how I feel for you. But it cannot be. I made a promise. I don't ever want to be cruel to you, my y/n." he licked his dry lips, and you noticed just how blue his eyes were as a result of spice addiction. "I did not marry you for things such as love or children, you know that."
"Yes, I know." you sighed, having heard that piece of information a hundred times during your marriage. "My husband, you are a loyal man. I admired you for that, but I don't wish for anything more than the same love that you have for your concubine. You can share that tenderness with me."
He said nothing, but kept his hand on your cheek, gazing at you so fondly.
You could sense him breaking for you. "Paul," you leaned closer, placing your hand on his exposed chest, "I have seen the way your eyes narrow at me when I bow before you as my Emperor."
Then, his hand wound tightly into your hair, and his lips were being smashed against yours. He pulled you against him, he moaned into your kiss. His hands were on your body, sliding up the curves of your hips.
Your body was electrified, you ran your hands through his hair, not caring how sweaty he was. The hunger was equal on both sides.
Paul pulled away suddenly, sighing as he turned away from you.
He was still wrestling in his mind, you knew it. "I need you." you said, melancholy taking over your tone as you started to believe he was going to refuse you completely, "I need my husband. I want to made love to by Muad'Dib." You went over to him, looking at his back you noticed a scar, larger than the others on his body. You wondered if the mark was result of a fall on a sand dune or maybe the consequence of riding the great sandworm. You reached out, cautiously running your finger along the scar.
He shivered at your touch, but he didn't shy away.
You decided that maybe this plan was fruitless, that he wouldn't, and never could love you the proper way in which a man loved his wife. "Paul, if you do not love me, I will leave now. You'll never see me come back to this place. I will accept being wrong. Things will go back as they were."
"No, please, don't go." he faced you again. He relaxed more, his body language and the look in his eyes was more at ease.
"Then stop me, my dear husband."
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar
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sprout-fics · 4 months
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Danger Close
(Captain John Soap MacTavish x F! Reader)
Call of Duty Masterlist
Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI Wordcount: 3.8k Tags: Power imbalances, Unrequited pining, Shy Reader, Stuck in a lift, Dry humping, Dirty talk, Seduction, Praise kink, Vaginal fingering, Secret affair, Pet names Warnings: None (ask to tag) A/N: This is a quick little idea of the OG himself. I'll probably do more headcanon based ideas soon, but for now enjoy the filth
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The thing about Captain MacTavish is that he’s…intimidating.
The self proclaimed red-blooded Scot is built like a brick shithouse, as one of your fellow officers once put it. Ruggedly handsome, strong, thick with muscle with coarse hair over his arms and stubble along his jaw. There’s a scar over one of his eyes, a slashing wound that should have blinded him. It crinkles slightly when he offers a lopsided smirk that taunts danger, that bares a reckless nature he hasn’t fully shed despite his years of experience. You tell your bunkmate that he’d make very good money as a bouncer at a nightclub, and her laughter nearly wakes up the whole hallway.
Intimidating.
Which is not necessarily the right word, you think. The Captain has a way around his men and fellow officers, an easy likeability that’s hard to ignore. He commands respect from his troops not in the way of brute posturing or snarling demands, but in the display of capability that has saved their lives many times over. He’s the firm touch on their shoulder as they check their gear before deployment, the firm reminder of level headedness over comms, the sharp, ringing command that cuts through gunfire when everything else has gone wrong.
The man exudes leadership, and you are among those helplessly drawn to it.
Yet there’s something closed off there that you can see in his eyes, an untold story that has drawn the lines of age in the corner of his steely gaze. It feels as if there’s an invisible barrier around him that prevents others from getting danger close. Magnetic, it pulls you in despite yourself, an inextricable attraction towards the nick of a blade you long to taste. Dangerous, like a moth to flame.
Not that you’ll ever do anything about it of course. As much as you daydream about the time you saw the captain’s broad back shiny with sweat on the sparring mats as he trained the other recruits, the low lilt of his accent that clouds your thoughts, you know it’s a terrible idea to develop a crush on your superior.
It’s hard not to, not when you deliver him his daily intelligence report in the afternoon, and he always makes sure to look up and greet you as you hand over the folder, smiling and offering: “Thank you, lass.”
Traitorous, you think, how your stomach devolves into butterflies just at the sight of his pleasant grin. 
Worse is the fact that despite his gruff exterior the man is always such a gentleman to you. He gives you his full attention when you speak, ensures his other male officers do not interrupt or speak over you, holds open doors when you walk into the meeting room together, ensures his men don’t harass you just for your status of being a woman. You think it’d be easier if he was just as pompous and arrogant as his fellow officers, but instead Captain MacTavish has the ability to make you feel special, like you’re the only other one in the room with him. 
It makes you feel a little guilty, admittedly- that he’s kind and decent and you constantly think about what it would be like to bend the rules so he can bend you over his desk. 
Caught in fantasy as you are, you don’t notice the way his eyes watch you out of the corner of his eye, take note of you stretching on your toes to reach something in a filing cabinet, the way your brow scrunches in thought as you scrutinize his paperwork, the slight tremble of your hand when you pass him a cup of coffee in the mess hall, the duck of your head when he offers an amicable thanks. 
You don’t notice the way he’s thinking anything but decent thoughts about you.
It’s hard to help. You’re a sweet, shy thing, and Soap is a man not immune to the charm of your bashful nature. He enjoys your wide eyed gaze as he selfishly sneaks gentle touches, a hand on your shoulder as he scoots past you in a crowded hallway, letting his fingers linger a little too long when you pass him a stack of files for him to sign off on, the barest little hitch of breathing he hears when he lets his voice dip an octave as he speaks.
“Thank ye, bonnie.” He tells you this afternoon, and relishes the way you repress a shiver at the endearment. 
Later, when he catches you at your desk gazing dreamily into space, he enjoys the glassy tint of your eyes, and imagines you’re thinking of him.
And, secretly, he thinks what it would be like to have you mewling and trembling under his war-worn hands. 
For all his decency and charisma, there is one thing you don’t know about the captain, and that is that he’s a wolf.
And you, you’re an adorable bunny waiting for the killing bite of his seduction.
Yet shy as you are, never to act on this, Captain MacTavish decides to take things into his own hands. 
He has you move your desk to his office, helping him with his own paperwork, and offers to buy you lunch on the basis of being a good boss, a good superior. He ensures you have everything you need for your space and helps you pick out a better desk chair when you complain about the standard base ones hurting your back.
And if he uses his rank to ensure your colleagues and higher ups don’t complain? Well. That’s his business.
“Good lass.” He tells you in passing when you find a piece of intelligence he requested, offering a small squeeze of your shoulder and feeling you stiffen under him before exhaling unsteadily- unaware of his smug grin just behind your shoulder. 
Cute, the way you think he won’t notice your little reactions, your dreamy eyes and the fantasies hidden behind them. 
In all places, it comes to a head in a stuck lift.
The meeting is in fifteen minutes, and you insist on taking the lift because of the obstacle course drills you were put through yesterday, whining about your aching thighs. Soap, the good captain that he is, acquiesces and allows it, crossing his arms and watching the doors close-
Only for the lift to give a groan and shudder to a stop.
“Bloody old building.” He gripes, giving the doors a small kick in grumbling protest. “Told maintenance these things needed to be repaired months ago.”
He’s not concerned. Worse comes to worse, he’s crawled up through elevator shafts before. Besides, it’s not as if you’re on the eighth floor, merely stuck between the first and second. It’s an inconvenience, but not an inescapable or deadly one. He’s not as young as he once was, but this shouldn’t be too beyond him.
You, on the other hand, press the call button frantically, trying to ask for help and rescue. The operator is quick to tell you that mechanics and the fire brigade are on the way, and tells you to stay calm. 
“How long are we going to be stuck in here?” You ask Soap, fidgeting. A nervous little filly, he thinks, as he eyes you with mild amusement.
“Maybe an hour.” He drawls, watching as your eyes go wide.
“We’ll miss the briefing.” You manage, a little choked, as if that is the gravest of your concerns, and not the thoughts Soap has about taking full advantage of the privacy he has with you.
“Aye.” He replies with a snort. “Shame, that.”
You make a little sound at that, something between petulance and despair, slumping into the wall as your face crumples.
“Hey, easy.” Soap offers, voice gentler now as he approaches you, gloved hands easily balancing you by your elbows across the wall. “It’s alright lass. We’ll be free in no time. Take a breath for me, aye?”
You nod at that, eyes turned towards the ground to avoid his gaze as you suck in a deep breath, hold it, and then let it out slowly.
“Good girl.” He purrs, unable to help himself, and relishes the way your eyes dart up to his, pupils blown wide as you realize for the first time just how close he is.
This is dangerous.
He’s got you crowded into the wall of the lift, all but blocking escape with his brawny frame. The shadow of his figure falls over your smaller form, dwarfing you. His hands cup you by your arms, bare fingers skimming along your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps rising in their wake. Your captain’s expression is calm, but even with the overhead light backlighting his face, you can see the intent, the scarcely concealed fixation there hidden beneath kind eyes and whispered only though a knowing smirk. 
Prey in a snare.
“S-sir-” You manage, voice tight as you finally realize the true nature of his intent with the way he hums a low, deep note in his chest that makes you shiver.
“Thought I wouldnae ken you watching me, bonnie?” He asks in a low, rumbling intonation that vibrates at the base of your skull. “Sneaking looks and off with the faeries everytime I called you a good girl?”
“I-” You try, and it’s a useless effort really. You could summon a thousand excuses, but you know none of them would work on him. Captain Mactavish’s eyes are too keen, too knowing for that. If he’s seen this much, if he’s seen the way you daydream while he doesn’t look, the way you try desperately to quell your infatuation with him, then there’s no use trying to pretend otherwise. 
"You like being called a good soldier? A good lass?” He goes on, and you bite down hard on a whimper of want that threatens to bubble up your throat. Your captain’s thumbs stroke the inside of your elbow gently, pressing down on the divot of sensitive skin and loosing an unsteady breath from your chest. 
“Look at you wobbling like a wee fawn.” He purrs in that low lilt of his. “This isn't because of me, is it? Developing feelings for your superior. Tut tut. Naughty thing."
“Captain-” Your voice is a strangled thing in your throat, choked by the cognitive dissonance of this, of something straight out of your wildest fantasies, a secret you keep to yourself in the dark of your bunk with your fingers buried between your thighs.
John hums, allowing his eyes to roam down your form, gently caged into the wall as you are, eyes glimmering with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed- A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Tell me to stop.” He murmurs then, voice serious. “I won’t touch you. I’ll transfer you if that’s what you want.”
“No.” Your answer comes so quickly it surprises even you, and suddenly your fingers are gripping on the inside of his forearms as if trying to keep him from retreating. “...Please.”
He gives you a moment, then another to reconsider, to retract your agreement and shove him off you. When you don’t, your captain grins.
“Shy little bonnie.” He croons. “Didnae have the words to ask for what you wanted from your superior, did you?”
You shudder when his gloved palm cups your cheek, leaning instinctively into it, sweet and willing. His thumb presses down on the plush bed of your bottom lip, and it takes a moment of courage to part your lips, lean forward so it rests on your tongue instead.
The sound your captain makes is carnivorous.
Hungry, wanting, dark as sin as he watches you engulf the digit and make eye contact with him, as if tempting danger. He tastes like the steel like of a sharp blade, cutting through your senses and leaving crimson want dripping against your thoughts. 
He removes his thumb so a drip of spit trails after it, and before it can spill your captain bends and kisses you.
It’s dizzying, all consuming, all open lips as he groans into you, one arm snaking around to the small of you back to balance you on wobbly legs, the other gripping your chin and directing you exactly how he wants you, tilting your head just so he can kiss you deeper. You feel unbalanced by the sheer force of it, leaving little choice but to clutch at his uniform, go a little limp in his arms and mewling into his open mouth.
“Aye, that’s it.” He groans between wet, sloppy kisses, dragging his teeth over your bottom lip and feeling you press back into him, eager for more. “Fuckin beautiful, hen.”
His warm breath spills against your open throat, where you think he might bestow a killing bite if you’d let him, groaning in appreciation at the raw, heady taste of you as he takes everything you can bear to give him. 
“Sir-” You whine when he wedges a knee between your legs, hands planted firmly on your ass so he drags your clothed cunt over the rise of his thick thigh. “Oh God-”
“No God here, love.” He huffs as your head flops gently to the side, his words fanning across the shell of your ear so you shudder. “Just you an’ me.”
That might be for the best, you think. One less witness to the act of your captain defiling you the way you’ve dreamt of for longer than you care to remember. 
Your captain’s hands grasp the fat of your ass as you give an experimental rock onto his thigh, stifling a little whimper as you do. It only makes him chuckle, dark and hungry into your ear as he nibbles on the sensitive skin  beneath your jaw. 
“C’mon lass, you can do better than that.” He huffs, and you feel him smile against your neck. “Go on, take what you need. Wanna feel you get off just from grinding on my leg like this.”
You’re not sure if you can, honestly, but gods above do you want to try. 
You grab at his neck for support, pressing him further as he bows over you, engulfs you with the heat of his frame. Then you allow your knees to fold, letting him support the weight of you as you begin to drag yourself along his thigh.
The friction is delicious, sends your nerve endings alight with sensation as the pleasure of it spills past your lips with an open groan. You wonder if the mere act of this, of humping your superior’s leg like a cat in heat while he purrs praises into your ear, does more for you than the actual motion itself. Either way, you begin to feel a warmth unfurling in your core, cunt clenching down on a needing emptiness that has you bury a whimper into his shoulder. 
“Thaaat’s it.” MacTavish- John, you wonder if he’ll let you call him, croons in your ear. “Lemme hear all those pretty noises, hen.”
You do, realizing there’s no one else to hear you. You give in, allow him to hear every hitch in your chest, every shuddering gasp and breathless plea of “S-sir-”
“Feel good?” He asks, hands kneading the swell of your ass as he helps rock you along his thigh. “Just imagine bonnie, could have had this weeks ago if you’d only let me.”
He’s right. If you’d only said something to him, had made a move on him, then you could have been having his low, Scottish lilt purr right in your ear as you try to get off ages ago.
But this is good too.
“Cannae even imagine how much it took for me not to pounce on you.” He huffs, pressing fluttering kisses against the thrum of your pulse. “All those sweet little looks you thought I couldn’t see, the way you were mooning over me like I wouldnae notice-”
“That’s- that’s not-” You try, managing to sound a little indigent despite your heaving breaths. 
“Oh I know, bonnie.” He croons with a huff of laughter. “You were just trying to be a good soldier, didn’t want to get caught seducing your superior, aye? What would the other officers think?”
You whimper at that, clutching a little tighter if only out of a remnant pulse of shame. Yet John doesn’t let you stop, drags you more insistently over the bulge of his thigh straining through his pants. 
“They don’t get to know.” He tells you, smirking. “They don’t get to know how sweet ye are like this, how pretty you look trying to come all over my leg, aye bonnie?”
You feel it rising inside you, feel your oncoming climax mount with every low rumble of words against your skin, with the way his scent clouds your senses so there’s nothing else but the sensation of him, the pleasure of you grinding your wet, empty cunt against his leg.
“C’mon, little one. Can feel you trying. What’dye need?” He huffs, and you shake your head into his shoulder. 
“Empty.” You tell him in a little, shy whisper, face burning as you refuse to look him in the eyes. Yet a hand catches your cheeks, turns you up to his gaze so you have no choice but to look into his bright, glimmering stare. 
“What was that?” He asks, and Gods, you think he may eat you alive. “Need to use your words, sweetheart.”
“E-empty.” You tell him a little louder, catching sight of the glassy eyed stare reflected in his eyes, feeling your legs shake with the effort of trying to hold your own weight. 
“Oh poor wee lass.” John sighs, bending down to kiss you again, swallowing the little whimper that bubbles up your throat. “Dinnae fash, I’ll take care of you.”
He pulls away so quickly you nearly drop to the floor, were it not for the hand slung across your hip that keeps you upright. You hear the clink of a belt, and for a single hopeful moment you think maybe it’s his, only to groan in disappointment and need as he squirms his hand past your own waistband, slinking his fingers between your folds. 
“Christ almighty, lass, you’re soaking wet.” He breathes, bracing his forehead against yours so you feel his warm huff of air on your swollen lips. “Just from this?”
Yeah. This. You want to tell him. As if ‘this’ isn’t something straight out of your wildest wet dreams, him easily handling you in close quarters, treating you with greedy hands and yet touching you as if you’re something prized, a beautiful weapon he’s admired from afar for far too long. 
When he sinks a finger into you John groans a deep, resounding noise in his chest, open and appreciating the way your slick heat instantly clenches around his fingers. 
“Fuck, the feel of you, hen.” He breathes as he pumps his fingers with deliberate slowness, as you whimper and writhe and try to force yourself down onto his hand to chase your just out of reach climax. “So warm and tight, cannae even imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”
“Please.” You gasp desperately, body flushed with want as you grind against his fingers, seeking to angle them just right. “Captain.”
The sound John makes is primal, and you’re given little warning before suddenly he’s plunging a second finger into you, giving you only a moment to adjust to the stretch before he’s setting a rapid pace that has you wail into his chest. 
“Is alright lass, I got you. C’mon, wanna feel you cum all over my hand.” He growls, panting, entire body coiled tight as he pushes you further towards your climax. “I’ll fuck you proper after, promise. Just need to feel it when you come, wanna hear how pretty you sound, c’mon-”
It’s that thought, the one of him having you right here in the lift, bending you against the wall and fucking you just like this that makes you arch with a broken little shout, clenching down hard on his fingers as he slowly works you through it, murmuring sweet endearments down at you as you tremble. You feel your walls pulse around his thick digits, coating them in slick and you realize too late he never took his glove off.
You nearly buckle as the last pulse of pleasure pulses bright and powerful through you, clutching at him with a little whimper as you come down slowly. You’re warm all over, muscles flooded with a bright release that has you wobble where you stand. The pulse of your heartbeat echoes in your ears and you try desperately to catch your breath amidst it all. 
And, naturally, that’s the moment when the lift starts moving again.
You almost entirely lose your balance when the floor beneath you jolts, squeaking as you lean fully into your captain. He doesn’t seem to be caught off guard at all. If anything, John seems amused at the sudden motion of the elevator, huffing a warm sound of disbelief up towards the ceiling. 
“Think we’ll still be late for that meeting, bonnie?” He asks, grinning mischievously, as if he didn’t just make you come so hard your knees wobble.
“No sir.” You breathe, leaning back against the wall as he pulls his hand from your pants, leaning up and licking his fingers free of your wetness. 
“Fuck.” You breathe helplessly, head flopping back. “You’re glove-”
He hums, as if just now realizing you stained the palm of his fingerless glove, pulling the velcro strap with his teeth as one hand balances you while you regain your strength. 
“Keep it safe for me.” He tells you, jamming it into your front pocket as the lift whines to a halt. “Give it back to me later. After the meeting.”
After can mean a lot of things, you realize.
The lift dings pleasantly, and your captain hauls a brawny arm to keep the door open for you, ever the gentleman. 
“Go on then lass,” He smiles, friendly and easygoing despite the knowing, hungry glimmer in his gaze. “Tell them I’ll be a few. Have to give the mechanics a talkin to.”
You nod, still a little shell shocked, a little disheveled, blinking dazedly as you scoot past him, then pause. 
Checking the hallway, you twirl around and lean up to kiss him so you hear the little breath of surprise against your lips. 
“After, captain?” You ask sweetly, blinking your lashes up at him and watching his pupils blow wide. 
“After.” He declares, voice just as sultry, leaning down to nip teasingly in front of your face, fangs and all. 
You sway off to the meeting, sneak into the back row and explain the hold up, and nobody looks at you twice, shy as you are. When your captain comes in five minutes later, only you notice the way he struts to the front of the room, smirking wide and assured as he briefs his men on their next target. 
“Weapons hot, lads.” He declares, arms crossed, a smile taunting danger. “We’re danger close.”
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astrobydalia · 5 months
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Your present... Relationship observations pt. IV
I know you guys love these so here's more! As always, enjoy and happy holidays!
work by astrobydalia
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long post!
A common thing I've seen in the charts of people who are firmly monogamous is moon-mercury aspects (this is not the only indicator ofc). Their decisions and interests are guided by what they feel so once they set their heart on someone... that's it for them
A very interesting lesson that I took from doing so many synastry/composite readings is that the "like attracts like" trope is WAY more powerful than the "opposites attract" trope. Here are some of the most common similarities I've spotted:
couples sharing the same ASC (this one is SO common)
Very similar aspects to the moon: I’ve noticed many couples have each of their moons aspecting the same planets, specially, outer planets, usually in similar (sometimes even the same) aspects. For example person A has Moon Square Pluto and person B has moon opposite Pluto (both harsh aspects)
A common thing I've seen in many couples synastry is Venus square Venus aspect
On the other hand I’ve noticed that flings or really passionate relationships tend to have Moon square moon in synastry
Moon sextile Moon relationships are so perfect imo. They have the easy understanding of the trine and the passion of the square/opposition
I’ve seen a lot of unrequited love situations have Venus square/opposite Moon. The moon person is attached to and idolizes the Venus person. The Venus person enjoys moon’s company but they aren’t that romantically involved or interested
Earth Moons are very fond of stability what is known to them but they secretly want someone who takes them out of their comfort zone and opens them up to deep and exciting emotional experiences. I've noticed they usually end up with partners who are more sensitive, expressive and spontaneous
I’ve noticed Venus-Pluto natives (square, opposition, conjunction) end up building some kind of resentment towards their long-term partners overtime and won’t let them go. The type to spend years married to some they secretly hate and also the type of person who demonizes every single one of their exes. It’s like they tend to attract relationships that wake up a dark side in them
Something I keep seeing over and over is that Cancer placements are playerssssss (both men and women). They will treat you like you’re “the one” but that doesn’t necessarily mean they have an actual intention to settle with you😭 they're just getting carried away by what they feel in moment so I guess they are unintentional players???
Leo and Libra placements on the other hand are intentional players imo. They love the romance and chasing just for the validation it gives them
In order to keep a Cardinal Venus/Moon interested you need to keep showing up like your relationship is brand new. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve be together or how comfortable you are with each other, they want their partner to still make an effort to impress and romance them like it’s the first date and they're bound to do the same
Women with Libra Mars I've noticed tend to attract mamas boys or child-like men with mommy issues. These women are always the dominant or mature ones in their relationships
Capricorn Mars women are dominant too and have a strong character but they chase men who are equally as independent as them if not more
Something I’ve noticed with Pisces/Neptune 7th house (and also Pisces Venus/Juno to an extent) is that yeah they put their partner on a pedestal but they also low-key tend to take their partner for granted? I’ve noticed they expect their partner to be indulgent, permissive and basically tolerate their bs. Little is talked about how their tendency to ignore red flags goes both ways; they want their partner to ignore their red flags too and forgive all their behaviors
What is up with Aquarius and Pisces placements attracting each other all the damn time?
Water Venus/Mars win the award for most obsessive lovers out there
I’ve seen a lot of people with Mars in the 7th house who were divorced or never married. One friend of mine who has this placement says she doesn’t want to marry at all or have a relationship cause she’s too independent
Women with fixed Mars are attracted to men who have rough or bold characteristics such as beard, tattoos, toned body, deep voice, etc. or just a very bold presence in general. They also have a thing for men who have a very confident, understated and nonchalant demeanor/personality to them
Women with mutable Mars and their attraction to flighty and chaotic men who don’t give them the time of day. I’ve seen this countless times 😭😭😭
I've seen harmonious aspects between Mars-Moon in people that work very well together! This aspect typically means fertility which in a work environment translates into a fruitful relationship. The two people wanting to create/initiate things together with lots of motivation
Who came up with the idea that Aries Moon/Venus are disloyal and flighty? All I keep seeing irl is these natives tend to have a strong attachment to their partners. Once they're in your corner they won't ever let you go fr. They could have a tendency to get attached to the wrong people tho
I’ve seen many many couples having 7th house Mars in synastry but this overlay is super chaotic imo, creates a back and forth dynamic that ends nowhere. The house person is the chaser here, they are always pushing commitment on the Mars person cause they don’t want the mars person to “slip away” or something. The mars person enjoys the eagerness of the house person and finds it very attractive and could enjoy challenging the house person’s interest. Eventually if the mars person isn’t that interested they get bored and are often the first ones to walk away
A very similar outcome I've seen happens with 7th house Mars in Composite. This could make the bond between the two a bit "forced" and dragged out. This also means the connection will really be put to the test, you guys may have to fight for your connection a lot which can either bond you more or exhaust you, could eventually become tired of the relationship and how much energy it takes to keep it alive.
I have a theory that your preferred house overlays could be indicated by your Venus/7th house/Juno. For example if you have Leo Venus you might enjoy 5th house synastry, if you have Neptune or Pisces in the 7th house you might feel comfortable with 12th house synastry, etc. Let me know what you think about this
I’ve noticed that 8th house synastry results in a lot of physical touch going on so people who have this as their love language might be specially fond of this overlay. This is the couple that literally can’t keep their hands off each other
Scorpio Moons 🤝 sabotaging the few healthy relationships they have in their life. They eventually learn to keep the right people after really going through it tho
With 7th house synastry you can really feel like something's missing when you don't have that person around.
When moon falls in fire houses in synastry the two people are always excited to see each other
Moon in 1st house in synastry is the only 1st house overlay that is not superficial. The connection is usually very genuine while it lasts. This person likely sparks a lot of nostalgia and you remember them fondly
When someone’s personal planets fall in your 4th house, you feel like this person can see you for who you truly are deep down
Gemini Venus/Juno/7th house: the people they date tend to have almost identical characteristic, there's always this blatant "twin" factor in the people they date or attract. For example all their exes worked in the same industry, have the exact same personality, etc
Venus Observations...
Libra Venus has the rep for being big flirts and charmers but this is actually a Cardinal Venus thing tbh cause, as I've said in a past post, they love the chase, they just all do it in different ways
It's true Virgo Venus are picky but this doesn't necessarily mean they have high standards. Yes, stay with me here. These natives have a very clear series of characteristics they want a partner to meet and that's how they are picky/critical (earth) but if those boxes are checked, they don't care much about anything else (mutable) and can be quite flexible. They don’t really care if their partner is not the most sought after person
In contrast, Capricorn Venus are picky AND have high standards. They want the best of the best, the perfect partner
Virgo Venus wants a partner that doesn’t need validation however they want their partner to validate them all the time
Aquarius Venus will only commit if they see a future with that person. Not only they are ruled by Saturn (which rules longevity) but they are also ruled by Uranus which rules innovation, Aquarius is the visionary of the zodiac so Aquarius Venus people need to feel like their partner will help them evolve or "upgrade" as a person in some way (not in a materialistic way like Capricorn but rather mentally). That's why they are attracted to people who are "different", intelligent or eccentric
The reason why Aquarius Venus is "flighty" as per my observation is because they tend to go for partners who are radically different from them and as a result they often stumble upon many incompatible partners
Leo Venus is very underrated when it comes to acts of service, I’ve noticed this is a very common love language for them
In my experience Pisces Venus natives are SO deceitful and immature. I'm sorry I really wanted to like this placement but they always make me cringe and are only cute on the surface imo. The type to lead everyone on by saying things they don’t mean and exaggerating compliments. They’re very passive in love and romanticize bare minimum. This means they don't expect their partner to take accountability but the native never takes accountability themselves either. They ignore issues in relationships and instead of working things through they expect everything to be fixed with lovebombing and/or pretending like nothing happened. Men with this placement tend to be emotionally unavailable and always want to date a doormat girl. Women with this placement are childish and tend to have princess complex
The only Venus sign that doesn't care much about looks from what I've seen is Scorpio Venus. They care more about the bond and chemistry over their partner fitting a certain type.
Also, what is up with Scorpio Venus and dating people they don’t actually like that much or at all? 🤨 They be dating people that low-key annoy them
Libra, Leo, Capricorn and Taurus Venus very much care about looks in a partner. Taurus/Capricorn Venus natives I've noticed pay special attention to how a potential partner dresses and grooms themselves
All Fixed Venus natives are pretty obsessive to honest, it's not just Scorpio. I've noticed they like the idea of having some sort hold or control over their partner. Their love language is making themselves indispensable in some way cause they enjoy feeling like they're partner will always need them and won't get away from them
Men with Pisces/Libra/Cancer/Taurus Venus have a thing for women who are people pleasers or stereotypically feminine and charming. They like it when a woman is kind, gentle, understanding, accommodating, etc
Men with Fire Venus are attracted to confident and independent women who have this it girl vibe to them
Something else I’ve noticed with Fixed Venus natives is that they have a thing for partners that have a mysterious or reserved vibe to them. Not necessarily introverted, but people who protect their privacy or keep to themselves a lot.
Mutable Venus fall for partners that have this very open and outgoing vibe to them. Again, not necessarily extroverted, but people who have a more bubbly personality
Cardinal Venus natives will only fall in love with someone who they deeply admire. They commit to people who have this put together/respectable vibe to them
Juno Observations...
I've actually observed Juno synastry is very significant in business relationships not just romantic ones. In fact, those married couple I've seen with heavy Juno synastry also tended to be involved in business together
Sagittarius Juno I've seen manifests mostly as the native getting a spouse that is very permissive and gives them a lot of freedom, a spouse that never says no to anything. This placement overall gives a very respectful and supportive spouse. However because of this the Sag Juno native will have a tendency to cross boundaries in the marriage and take their spouse for granted
In general both Sagittarius and Pisces Juno have a tendency to "abandon" their spouses either physically or emotionally and kinda forget about them from time to time. This doesn't necessarily have to mean disloyalty tho.
Sag Juno natives want to feel like they have the freedom to go and do their own thing, like they'll leave for days or weeks on end and their spouse won't mind and will indeed support the native. They don’t like to feel like marriage hinders their desire to live freely but rather encourages it. Side note: I have seen some cases in which Sag Juno natives actually did abandon their spouses/families either for another partner or because they were perusing better opportunities
Pisces Juno natives will give a more sacrificial energy kinda like "babe I love you but I have to go, I'm sorry". There's something that stops the native from actually being there for their spouse, but this placement indicates the spouse is bound to be very forgiving because they'll see is not your fault in a way
Cancer/Capricorn Juno is an indicator of having a marriage with traditional gender roles or traditional values.
I’ve noticed Scorpio Juno natives or Scorpio ASC in the Juno PC have a marriage that REALLY rubs people the wrong way. Others could see your relationship as toxic or even predatory in nature. People believe that you landed your spouse (or vice versa) through manipulation, abuse, deceit, stalking, controlling behavior, etc. This placement also means you met when either of you were going through a hard time so there could be some case of trauma bonding here
I’ve seen that soulmate relationships tend have their Junos in the same element (most common case). Honorary mentions: Juno in opposite signs or signs ruled by the same planet
Leo Juno natives are a bit flighty and afraid of commitment. They just want a partner for the sake of the romance and feeling spoiled. They want the relationship to stay fun and playful and really dislike the sense of seriousness and "settlement" that can come with marriage sometimes
With Juno in the 7th house either you or your spouse will be in a relationship when you meet
When looking at the Juno PC, Capricorn placements/Saturn in the angels/Saturn conjunct inner planets indicates long-lasting marriage
Fixed Juno natives will have a spouse that is completely fascinated and obsessed with them. You want your spouse to worship you specially with Leo and Taurus Juno. The way your spouse will love you will boost your ego thus acting more confidently after marriage. The energy of the marriage could be a little overbearing or suffocating depending on other aspects
I've observed this in virtually all cases with Virgo Juno have a tendency to attract very inconsiderate partners that make them feel like they're not good enough (the opposite can be true). They had unsuccessful first marriage that drained the shit out of them but they eventually find someone who is very modest and nurturing
Cancer/4th house Juno natives have a VERY hard time moving on from their exes if they ever saw that person as marriage material.
From what I've seen Capricorn Juno doesn't create that much of a delay or age gap in marriage. It can of course, but in most cases these natives marry in their late 20s to their first serious bf/gf and they usually have an age difference of 2-5 years approximately. This placements I’ve seen manifests mostly as “I married my high school/collage sweetheart and we’ve been together forever” kinda scenario OR marrying someone from your past you reconnect with later in life
Scorpio, Pisces, Capricorn and Aquarius Juno indicates you'll marry your soulmate or your relationship with your fs is karmic or from a past life. You might meet your spouse after fulfilling some karmic lesson or some life milestone
Cardinal Juno/Juno in the angles tend to be very proud of their spouses or being married in general. Could be the type to be very invested in finding a life partner cause they tend to turn marriage into a very essential part of their lives and themselves
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