#simply cannot let fun thing be fun

[trainchomp]

Harry did Dexter so dirty. He took a troubled boy with mental health and emotional regulation issues, did not get him the help he needed, and instead pushed him towards harmful behaviors and forced him to hide from everyone in his life including his mother and sister. And then, when confronted with the consequences of his own actions, Harry kills himself, leaving Dexter alone with mountains of trauma and a huge, terrible secret that he’s not allowed to tell anyone because his father instilled in him this deep seated fear that he is, at his core, unlovable. What a horrible thing to teach your child.

And Dexter wants help, he tries to get help. He goes to NA, he tries to find god, he confides in his sister. Until there’s a little roadblock, a little set back, he meets a psycho sponsor and a murderous Christian and he decides there’s no way he’ll get better and he goes back to what he knows how to do. Because it feels good, and even though he knows it’s bad, indulging in the behavior feels better than trying to avoid it, which is painful, and difficult, and it’s just easier not to.

I was really upset when he gave up on NA, I think they really could have helped him. He is addicted to killing. Regardless of who he’s killing or why, it feels good and he wants to keep doing it. He can put up this wall of “i only kill bad guys” and “some people slip through the cracks” except that he regularly goes after people the police are actively trying to catch. Home boy did not “slip through the cracks”, you deliberately hid evidence from the cops in the hopes that you would get to them sooner.

Mostly I just hate Harry because everyone puts him on this pedestal of being a great cop and a good father and not only do we have absolutely 0 evidence of him being a good cop (the only thing they ever actually say about his detective work is that he was sleeping around with a Lot of CIs and never made Lieutenant), we also have 0 evidence of him being a good father! He accepted Dexter’s killing *in theory* but when confronted with it literally chose to kill himself instead of face what he had done, and actively abandoned his other child??? No matter how high one child’s support needs, your other child also has needs and neglecting them is abuse.

And actually, while we’re at it, why do they keep getting rid of characters like they never existed? What happened to the Irish nanny? What happened to the girl Angel was dating before the writers just decided to put him and LaGuerta together for no good reason? Where did they go and could you not have thrown them a line or two of dialogue?? Literally have Dexter say they need to hire Angel’s sister cause the old nanny moved back to Ireland and I’d be happy.

Meanwhile apparently Deborah is in love with Dexter despite us not getting any evidence of this leading up to the moment she realises it and their dynamic changing not at all afterwards.

Why is this show so bad? They had a fantastic premise, some pretty good actors, and I’ve never read the books, but I’ve heard they’re decent. They had everything they needed to make something watchable and they chose to make this instead? It’s so bad I have to wonder if they’re doing it on purpose. Is the whole thing meant to be ironic? are we supposed to understand that despite everyone parroting the opposite, Harry actually sucked? Are we supposed to think critically about Dexter’s actions, or are we just supposed to accept that it’s a good thing that he’s killing killers? Or was no one ever meant to think about this show too hard because it was primarily made for ad slots

[peachcitt]

it’s about to be june everybody :)

[elainemorisi]

one of my absolute fussiest annoyances is cocktail names that have no obvious relationship to their ingredients, which is nuts, because... duh

that being said, A Thousand Blue Eyes is both a great name and delicious, and if you use butterfly pea ice cubes you can coerce it into compliance!

[baepsays]

BOUND TO BE ⟢⸻ Ryomen Sukuna

cw ──★ NSFW, MDNI, husband & wife dynamics, established relationship, fem reader, descriptions of fem anatomy, m! masturbation, spanking, spit stuff (i am fully down this rabbit hole), cum play, breeding, headlock, arguments, rough sex, manhandling, i cannot remember anything else.

a/n: when i am a chill guy and i try to divorce my husband for fun.

Trying to divorce your husband, Sukuna, is hard.

Because it does not matter how much effort you put into packing up your most essential belongings, making arrangements to stay with a friend for a while, and getting a lawyer to serve him; it all sums up to be null.

Sure he gets served with the papers, but he's sending you a picture of the documents all shredded up by his German shepherds. And a text that follows, 

“You know I hate reading.” 11.45 AM, Read.

But he definitely read those papers. He hated them more than any piece of paper he has ever read. And he hates reading to begin with! So he did the most convenient thing and simply destroyed them. 

Hence, when you call to yell at him, it changes nothing. And even if you still have a set of the same documents, or if you warn him that you will send those papers again, and how he better keep them intact this time—all that he hears is your pretty voice yelling at him, but he has no idea exactly what you were even saying. But damn did you sound great just burning his ears. Cursing him out for everything and anything you can, calling him an asshole, and hanging up on him with a ‘fuck you’. 

He knows that the blows are not going to get any softer if you knew what he was doing right now.

It is not even that he is thinking about anything particularly lewd when he gets bricked up in the middle of the day, it is just the kind of effect you have on him. He is sitting in his office chair, hard as a rock in his pants, and telling his secretary to cancel the board meeting. So he can jerk off while listening to the audio recording of the call he just had with you. 

Ryomen Sukuna has no shame in whipping his cock out of his slacks, leaning back in his very expensive chair, in his very spacious office; spitting on his cock, and jerking it off, with nothing and no one, but his wife on his mind. The recording of the call he just had with you playing on repeat in the background, and you yelling and shouting at him all angry just makes his wrists pick up the pace.

His mind wanders off to daydreaming about how he would bend you over his desk, and slap your ass and cunt until it's red and stinging. How he would only rub his cock in your juices and tease your hole with a little taste and pull away, until you stop whining and groaning and go straight to yelling at him, like you did on the phone. How he would like to put you in a headlock, and have you drool on the gathered up sleeves tightly bunched up on his biceps, and leave a patch on it. 

How your eyes would gloss over and roll back in the inside of your head, and all the yelling and shouting would get stuck in the back of your throat because how good it’d feel to have his warm body weigh you down on the cool surface of his desk. As he thrusts into your cunt mercilessly, until your cervix is bruised, and your walls remember the shape of him. How he will have your cunt clenching to keep all of his seed safe inside your womb, along with his cock, tightening around it and making it difficult for him to pull out. Just how he would clean you up and pick you up in his arms, and drive back home, to fuck you on you two’s bed, until you are well bred and full of noting but his cum.

The squelching sound of his precum and spit—helping him slide his hands around his cock faster and with ease—could never compare to your cunt making sweet sweet noises when he is thrusting in her, the wetness cannot be even compared, and the way your walls hug him tight, warm, and snug; cannot be replaced with anything else.

So how can he just let his wife leave him?

He is a firm man.

He has always been so, with firm beliefs and convictions. And it is part of the reason why you fell in love with him, to even stay married to him for over a decade. But everything has its limits, and you are only a human. Being able to hold your ground may be one thing, but being inflexible to the point that you push away your own wife, is another.

Unfortunately Sukuna did not know the answer to perfect equilibrium. 

And hence, he is in this situation. Trying to give space to his wife, for once, when she actually needs it. Instead of pushing himself into her space when she didn't need him to do that, and withdraw when she tried to reach out to him. For once Sukuna has done the right thing.

Until he did not.

Driving down to your friend's place, to take you back with him, because of course he knows where you are despite your best efforts. You even went out of your way to not go back to your parents’ place this time so he would not be able to trace you down as quickly as he always does. But he has his ways of getting a hold of you, he always has. 

When the bell to your friend’s place rang at twelve AM, you simply thought maybe it was her boyfriend visiting. He has always had odd timing, so you got up to open the door, instead of your friend who was almost halfway asleep on the couch. 

“Are you done throwing a tantrum?” The last person you expected to be standing behind the door when you opened it, with no guard up or whatsoever, was standing in front of you. Clad in a three piece suit, messy pink hair, newly formed bags under his eyes, and signature frown—it was your husband.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

“Is the yelling necessary?” 

“YES!”

His eyebrows furrowed further at the state of you. You looked like shit, in terms of that you didn't look taken care of. And that is simply unacceptable. 

“Why did you open the door so easily? Did you even check before opening it? What if it was some creep huh?” His nagging made something flutter in your stomach. Oh, how much you have missed him.

“Yeah, like you are any better.” But this was no time to show him that.

He simply sighed at you, folding your hands on your chest, looking like you had no intention of hearing him out or planning on packing your bags to leave with him. 

“Alright. You made me do this.”

With effortless movements on his part, and some flailing around like a fish on your part, you were on his shoulders; hanging like a sack of potatoes. To be then driven back to the house you built into a home with your now soon to be ex-husband. It did not even make him huff out some air, to walk to his car with you throwing punches on his back. With one large hand on your back, and another around both of your legs—so you do not kick him and tumble off his shoulder in the process.

He sat you down in his passenger seat, while mumbling something about how he would come and pick up your bags tomorrow. He did not even flinch or get angry at you for yelling crude profanities at him, or pulling on his hair, before he locked you in the car. So he could easily get to the driver’s seat, without you trying to escape, like you ‘ve done before. You just wanted him to get pissed enough at you, so you can make an excuse out of that and make him leave you alone. 

Or so you wanted to make yourself assume.

Because trying is all you can really do. Throw some fits and tantrums, try to get him to sign those papers—but you know he would never. His apathy and disdain for communication aside, he is a great husband, and he loves you maybe more than what you can fathom.

And at this point you're so far beyond the point of return, that you don't even think you can do without him, nor can he do without you. He looked paler, and thinner, and the crease between his eyebrows looked worse. But you also looked horrible, with the shine in your hair gone, skin looking dull, visible marks of tears on your cheeks—you missed him dearly, and waited for him earnestly. 

What even the fuck is ‘giving space,’ and how did Sukuna, your husband, of all people got to know about it? Maybe you would have returned home much earlier, if he simply chased after you like he always did. So you tried to stretch your little bubble, to see how long before it really pops, because if the pressure of the air is not enough, what is even enough? 

Saying you hate him? That you cannot stand him? Or that you want a divorce? If only he figured out the easy way around your wrath, maybe then he would not have the unnecessary lawyer’s fees charged on his card that he gave you. 

“You're done with this now?”

It took you a few minutes to answer his question, you just silently sat there with your face planted on the window, as you continued to stare at his reflection—how one of his hands remained on the steering wheel, while the other you could feel rubbing up and down on your bare thighs, barely covered by your shorts. He just knows exactly  how to shut you up. And this is how it goes, you get defeated and you refuse to look at him, until he has you back home, on your bed, and you cannot help but look at him, just him.

“Yes.” The mumble was loud enough to get to his ears, which made the corners of his lips twitch. 

“Good girl.” 

“Shut up, or else I'll actually divorce you!”

He laughed to himself, but he felt the threat deep in his bones. Oh to be threatening Ryomen Sukuna and have him in the palm of your hands.

“Sure. Let's just go home. But you are still getting punished.” His voice sounded at ease, to finally have you with him, but nothing about what he said was going to be easy for you. Sure it sounded playful, or endearing, and filled with love—because it was, but that did not mean the threat was not present. 

But you would have it no other way. Just him talking to you with sweet threats, and mean punishments. Sure it is going to be hard when he will have you crying tears of pleasure and pain, bent over his lap—but you know you are going to enjoy every second of it.

“I know Kuna.”

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

a/n: divider by @/omi-resources.

have fun :3c this opened new doors for me. you will be seeing more of him from me >:)

I'd provoke him sm just so he'd rock my shit

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojao @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @soupicidesquad @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @gojosconsort @ricecake-mochi @veahhcarothers

[maenefa]

Why does Eowyn want to die?

Because Aragorn won’t love her? Because she feels trapped in her feminine gender role?

These are the explanations we get in the text. However, none of the characters really acknowledge Eowyn’s darkest fear: being taken alive by the enemy.

There are some bad takes on Eowyn that boil down to patronizing her and downplaying the seriousness of her problems. People say that she had a naive desire for glory and Faramir teaches her that war isn’t actually fun. Then there’s the whole “Eowyn was a deserter who selfishly ran away from her duty” argument.

You can only say these things if you ignore how dire the situation was, how close Sauron was to winning, and how gruesome Eowyn’s fate would have been if he won. She knew that death or capture likely awaited her, and she knew that dying in battle was the least bad option. (She also knew her own worth and believed that she was too useful a warrior to be left behind with the civilians. And she was right.)

Eowyn’s actions are ruthlessly practical! She wants to die fighting because that’s better than waiting around for The Horrors. Let’s be real, Eowyn is too sensible to be suicidal over an unrequited crush.

Here are some of her most revealing quotes:

“All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honor, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.”

“And those who have not swords can still die upon them.”

“Nor is it always evil to die in battle, even in bitter pain. Were I permitted, in this dark hour I would choose the latter.”

“But I do not desire healing…. I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died and has both honour and peace.”

In the end, Eowyn only stops wanting to die after Sauron is defeated. Just before the Ring is destroyed, she tells Faramir:

“I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but whether there is any light behind me I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom.”

Eowyn can’t turn to light and life until the war is over. Hope is too painful; death at least offers “honor and peace.” This passage is so important because it EXPLICITLY links Eowyn’s despair to the outcome of the war and makes it clear that she is not simply having a meltdown because Aragorn rejected her.

There are two important moments where Eowyn is threatened with violence. The very first time we meet her, we are told by Gandalf that Wormtongue planned to turn her into a sex slave after Saruman conquered Rohan. Even though this threat is dismissed quickly, it’s a disturbing reminder of what could happen to Eowyn if Sauron wins.

Then we have the most triumphant moment of Eowyn’s story: her battle with the Witch King. Once again, Eowyn is not threatened with death, but with captivity and torment:

“Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye.”

Eowyn laughs at him and makes sure to announce that she is a woman before killing him. Her victory is all the more satisfying because the Witch King has just threatened her with captivity, loss of agency, the violation of her body and mind—all threats that Eowyn has faced before. But the Witch King’s words continue to haunt Eowyn and us. He threatens to withhold death; and death is therefore framed as an escape, a gift. Eowyn is taken to the Houses of Healing, but she is obsessed with returning to battle and fighting until she dies.

When Eowyn says that she fears “a cage,” this is a brilliantly simple metaphor for the entire spectrum of oppression she has faced: from the well-meaning restrictions of her culture to the horrifying enslavement threatened by Wormtongue.

Once the war is over, Eowyn is able to laugh at her fears. She teases Faramir: “And would you have your proud folk say of you: there goes a lord who tamed a wild shieldmaiden of the North!” Her fear of being caged has been turned into a bit of flirtatious banter. She feels completely safe with Faramir, and the idea that he “tamed” her is nothing but a joke between them.

[pomefioredove]

Could I HCs for the headmasters (or only Riddle, Leona and Azul) reacting to one of their students asking to be transferred to ramshackle? like a small club of Yuu admirers :3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yuu Admirer Club!

I misread this the first time and thought it was yuu transferring to THEIR dorms but, actually, I like this better. this is fun

summary: yuu admirer club :) type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

seeing as Heartslabyul hasn't had an expulsion, transfer, or dropout since Riddle became housewarden, this comes as...

...quite a shock

he thought Ace had been joking at first

or annoying him on purpose...

and then he comes down to the lounge one morning with his bags packed and a forged letter from Crowley

despite Riddle's strong feelings towards you

(and they are strong)

he's still offended!

all of the loving and tender discipline he's given, and Ace just leaves?

well, he can't stand for that

Riddle marches to Ramshackle, ready for heads to roll, but before he can even knock, you're there, dragging Ace and his things to the door

"oh, thank goodness. TAKE HIM BACK!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona doesn't even notice that Jack has been missing until he passes the spelldrive disc at morning practice and there's no one there to catch it

more of a "huh" reaction

then he forgets about it, takes a nap, and only remembers to ask Ruggie the next morning

"he's been gone for two weeks. he moved to Ramshackle, remember?"

Ramshackle? weird choice, but okay

Jack has always been a little... strange

Leona's reaction is more or less, "huh. nice kid. oh, well,"

but after that, he starts seeing you and Jack together more and more

and he starts to feel... weirdly jealous

it's like he's rubbing it in Leona's face

taking up all your time, always making you smile and laugh...

Jack was never that funny at Savanaclaw

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it takes Azul at least three days to start worrying about Floyd

he and his brother are known to disappear at random

then, the Mostro Lounge has to open an hour late because someone didn't show up for his morning shift

now Azul suddenly can't remember the last time he saw Floyd at the Lounge

after a brief manhunt, he finds Floyd all cozied up on your couch, in your slippers, with a mug of hot chocolate

great

"you cannot transfer dorms by avoiding your old one!"

"exemption!" Floyd says. is he also wearing your robe? "I'm simply a part of the Yuu Admirer Club"

Azul rolls his eyes

...and drags Floyd back to the lounge

after all, if there was such a club, Azul would have been the first to hear of it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil can feel something is off even before Epel is late

and, as always, he's right

Epel misses curfew, and Vil sets out on a mission like a mother hen missing a chick

of course, he knows just where he's hiding

and he lets himself in unannounced

"Epel, here. now,"

the poor boy looks like he's seen a ghost

you're not even involved in the conversation, but Vil's tone alone is enough to send a chill down your spine

"but- but- I got permission! this is the Yuu Admirer Club!"

Vil, of course, has no patience for this

"I gave you no such permission, and there is no such club,"

you can admire them on your own time like the rest of us, he thinks

luckily, Epel is saved

he's not the only member of the club, after all

"now, judge not so quick, dear Roi du Poison! does our admiration for our Trickster not exemplify that of a club?"

"wh- Rook?"

[gf2bellamy]

I just want to say that I love all of your fics! They are so sweet and cute and 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Can I please request reader meeting Penelope at like a pottery club or art class or cafe or something and the two of them hit it off and become really good friends and reader mentions that her boyfriend is coming to pick her up and just gushes about how sweet he is and how much she loves him. And then Spencer shows up and Penelope is like “oh my god!!!”

coffee — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: absolutely loved this idea tysm for ur request ! <3

You took the last sip of your coffee, laughing loudly at the story Penelope had just told you.

“I cannot believe you actually said that,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, still grinning.

Penelope simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Someone had to say it,” she quipped, smirking as she took another sip of her now nearly empty cup.

You had met Penelope purely by accident—a mix-up at the coffee shop when the barista had mistakenly switched your orders. You could have just exchanged cups and gone on with your day, but somehow, the two of you ended up talking. And talking.

One thing led to another, and suddenly, you were sitting together at the same table like old friends.

Now, as you noticed her cup was empty too, you felt reluctant to let the moment end.

“We should do this again,” you said, tilting your head at her.

Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes. Yes. Most definitely yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, already reaching across the table for your phone before you could even offer it.

“I’m going out tonight with some friends from work,” she explained as she tapped her number into your contacts. “They’re wonderful people, and we’d have so much fun. You should totally come with.”

She handed your phone back, her enthusiasm contagious. You smiled, appreciating the offer, but you shook your head apologetically as you glanced at your screen.

“Can’t,” you said. “My boyfriend’s picking me up and we're grabbing dinner together.”

At that, Penelope’s brows arched with intrigue. “Boyfriend?” she echoed, her smirk returning.

You nodded, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Her grin widened as she leaned in slightly. “And? Tell me about this mystery man.”

You laughed softly at her curiosity, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well… he’s kind of the sweetest person I know,” you admitted, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Like, the kind of person who remembers all the little things—my favorite snacks, the way I take my coffee, even the books I say I want to read but never get around to.”

Penelope let out a dreamy sigh. “Okay, I love this already. Keep going.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s ridiculously smart, but he doesn’t act like he knows everything. He’s just… thoughtful, in a way that sneaks up on you.” You glanced at your phone again, checking the time. “Like, this morning, he woke me up with pancakes. He burned the edges a little, but he still insisted on making them.”

Penelope gasped dramatically. “Okay, I’m officially obsessed with him. He sounds like a dream.”

You laughed, nodding. “He really is.”

Before Penelope could press for more details, your phone buzzed in your hand. You glanced down at the screen, your heart skipping a beat at the name flashing across it. “That’s him,” you said with a grin, slipping your phone into your pocket.

Penelope’s smirk grew as she crossed her arms. “Well, now I have to meet this perfect man of yours.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah,” you admitted, checking the time. “He should be outside right about now.”

And with that, the two of you stood up, walking out of the coffee shop together.

There he was—Spencer—standing just outside with his back to you, hands casually tucked into his pockets. The familiar sight of him sent a warm flutter through your chest.

“Spencer,” you called softly, excitement bubbling in your voice as you walked toward him, a wide smile spreading across your face.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his own smile instinctive—warm, genuine. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, his expression faltered. His shoulders stiffened, his smile slipping away.

Your steps slowed. “What?” you asked, brow furrowing, your arms—once ready to wrap around him—now hanging uselessly at your sides.

His gaze wasn’t on you. It was locked onto Penelope.

The two of them stood there, staring at each other, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Spencer wore a shocked and worried expression, while Penelope’s face was a mask of smug satisfaction.

“Uh…” you said, glancing back and forth between them, trying to decipher the sudden tension. “Spencer, this is Penelope. I met her at the coffee shop today. And Penelope, this is Spencer, my boyfriend.” You lightly touched his arm, hoping to draw his attention back to you.

And then—

“Oh my god,” Penelope suddenly squealed, her eyes practically glowing with excitement.

You turned to her, utterly bewildered.

“Spencer Reid,” she announced dramatically, planting her hands on her hips. “How dare you hide this from me?”

Spencer, whose face had somehow turned even redder, mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.

Penelope, however, was having none of it. She spun toward you, pointing at him. “This?! This is your boyfriend?”

“…Yes?” you said slowly, the confusion growing.

She gasped, clutching her chest as if she had just heard the most scandalous news. “The Spencer Reid you’ve been gushing about? The one who makes you pancakes and remembers every single detail about you ?”

Your mouth opened slightly as realization dawned. “Wait. You know Spencer?”

“Oh, honey.” Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh. “Know him? I work with him. He is my Spencer.”

You blinked. “Your Spencer?”

Spencer finally let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Garcia…”

“Reid,” she shot back with a gleeful grin.

You took a step back, looking between them, still processing. “Wait, you’re Garcia?”

Penelope gasped again, looking mock-offended. “He didn’t tell you my name? I thought we were friends now!”

Spencer rubbed his temple. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think?” she interrupted, feigning shock. “Did you not think I would love her?”

He sighed, defeated.

You, meanwhile, had fully shifted from confusion to amusement, the situation far funnier now that you understood. “In his defense, I only knew you as ‘Garcia.’”

“Well, that changes now!” Penelope declared, looping her arm through yours as if you had been best friends for years. “Come on, we have so much to talk about.”

Spencer sighed again, but there was a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he watched you two.

[books-and-catears]

MC: Solomon...I- I thought you were on my side. I thought we were supposed to protect each other no matter what...

Solomon: I'm sorry MC, but all I ever wanted from you was your powers. And now that I have them I have... no use for...for...

Solomon: *distressed and shaking his head* No I can't do this. I simply can't do this. I'm sorry MC. *hugs them tight*

MC: Solomon it's just acting it's okay. We are just acting-

Solomon: Even at my absolute worst, I cannot even imagine saying such a thing to you, MC! I forfeit this ridiculous dare.

Mammon: Hah! And you all made fun of me for crying!

Lucifer: *on his sixth glass of demonus* It was a foolish dare to begin with.

Levi: *curled up in a ball and shaking with misery*

Satan: *busy punching an already cracked wall*

Asmo: *mascara running down his cheeks*

Beel and Belphie: *jointly hugging a pink sheep pillow tight, looking miserable*

Luke: Wow good thing Simeon and I didn't participate...poor Solomon was practically forced into it too

Simeon: Indeed just watching everyone try and act out such a sad scenario was heartbreaking on its own.

Diavolo: Barbatos, my heart feels rather heavy. I feel like begging for forgiveness from MC on my knees.

Barbatos: I understand how you feel, Young Master. But MC will no longer let me bow to them because it appears I'm overdoing it.

Thirteen: And that's all of them! Goodness not one of them could finish this simple dare of pretending to betray you?!!?

Solomon: Bold words from a person who went tongue tied and started throwing all your happy prank machines when MC pretended to cry.

[rechvlle]

۶ৎ sticky like lipgloss ₊˚♡

ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis ── after a particularly intense fight with your boyfriend, thanos, you seek out the comfort of his best friend, nam-gyu, which, not only is wrong—at least to thanos—but it ends up wrong, too.

♡ featuring ── thanos/choi su-bong (player 230) x female!reader x nam-gyu (player 124) ♡ word count ── 3.4k ♡ content warnings ── college au (they have money and aren't in debt, not as bad, anyway) ◞ established relationship ◞ cheating ◞ soft!namgyu ◞ desperate!needy!reader ◞ slight (more implied) emotional abuse ◞ manipulation ◞ toxic relationship(s) ◞ impulsive decisions ◞ kissing ◞ mentions of make-up sex ◞ vaginal fingering ◞ vaginal penetration ◞ pet names (baby, sugar, etc.) ◞ praying mantis position ◞ downward doggy position ◞ safe sex ◞ slight praise kink ◞ lowkey vanilla ◞ spanking ◞ mentions of anal ◞ coincidental creampie ♡ author note ── me after finishing fanfic after months of deleting and rewriting over ten…? i mean, this is a one-shot so… anyway tho, the title has kinda no correlation to the fic, i just needed a title guys, don't sue me :-( anyway, had fun writing this ^_^ tell me if I missed any tags…

What could—no, what is worse: being held at gunpoint, fearing for your life, or having an argument with your boyfriend? Being held at gunpoint; the choice is obvious and it isn’t arguable, it’s quite objective. Whilst fearing for your life is truly terrifying and will, most certainly, cause trauma to one another, your body simply cannot tell the difference between such.

It’s pitiful, truly. In a way, you’re too attached to your drugged-up, junkie-ass boyfriend, so due to the amount of love you have for him, whenever the two of you argue, it’s as if you—and your body—cannot tell the difference in a near-death experience versus arguing or being yelled at by your boyfriend. You are truly pathetic.

It’s sickening at how easily you and Su-bong, or well, Thanos, fight.

Oddly enough, not too soon after he started his rapping career, he wanted you to call him Thanos. You two fought about that—except, he started the fight. He thought that you didn’t love him because you weren’t going to familiarly call him Thanos instead of Su-bong. You obliged in the end, though; you didn’t want him to think the worst of you.

You were addicted to his touch, his love, his affection—anything and everything that he would be willing to give you—so whenever he’s upset, you need to make him happy, to resolve things as quickly as possible. So, sex was common after fights. Su-bong never rejected the offer, he wanted it, too—almost always, anyway.

Except, this time, he wasn’t going to fold so easily.

“Come on, baby! We both know what happened,” Su-bong said, gripping your forearm tightly with his left arm.

His nails dug into your skin, leaving small crescent marks; expression guarded, angry, almost hateful. Su-bong slightly shook you, not hard enough or just enough to make you dizzy, but the right amount to make you annoyed.

“Su-bong, I didn’t—“

The hand that held your arm shot up to your face, interrupting you with his index finger to your lips.

“Ah-ah, not my name,” Su-bong spoke in a sing-song voice, almost mocking.

“Thanos,” you started—his face turned towards more approving, but you could still see (and sense) his anger. “I wasn’t flirting with anyone.”

Right. He’s upset, no, furious, at you for “cheating on him,” because you “flirted” with someone else (you asked for a pen during class). And of course, like the “professional accuser” that he is—and due to you and him having that class together—he took your words as flirting.

Because 1) why would you need anything else from anyone other than him? Is he not good enough for you? 2) you don’t need to talk to anyone else other than him, let alone ask for something. It’s disrespectful, you’re cheating, a liar.

“Don’t lie, now. You didn’t need to ask him,” Su-bong—no, Thanos—whined. He pulled his hand away from your face, rolling his eyes in the process.

“It was just for a pen. You know I’m not like that!” You almost screamed, you were already breathing pretty hard; you were overwhelmed, overstimulated.

Thanos is high, of course, so there’s no telling how extreme his reactions will be. Once, he slammed you against the wall, even smacked you, but nothing too fatal or hurtful. Maybe.

“Y/N, I’m bein’ pretty fuckin’ lenient with you right now,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, yet again.

“Thanos, I’m sorry, really! It didn't mean anything!” You pleaded with him, your hands coming to grasp his arms, biting your lip.

You gave Thanos your signature look: seductive eyes, bitten bottom lip, the touches—oh, he loved it all. Yet, to him, at this moment, he doesn't feel any sort of sympathy for you, he doesn't feel aroused or turned on by this. He finds it too serious—especially when he’s high out of his mind, much like how he is now.

“Nuh-uh, baby, that isn't going to work on me right now.”

You could, in a way, feel your heart drop. What did he mean it wasn't going to work? Doesn't he see how stressed out you are right now? How needy—in a way—that you are right now?

“Thanos, please, let me make it up to you!” You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, the pouty, desperate look you had on your face.

“Nah, I know what you’re trying to do. Cheat me out like a whore, huh?” He pulled away from your touch, shoving you in the process.

“Why don’t you go to that bitch you asked to borrow from?” He looked at you, almost crazed, gripping your arms now, hard, his nails, yet again, digging into your skin. It was painful.

Your mouth was agape as he continued to yell at you, hurling a few insults your way: “Fuckin’ whore,” “dumb bitch,” would be a few.

You couldn't take it. You were borderline hyperventilating, stressed, and hurt. Why would Thanos think of you as a cheater? You’ve never done anything that could prove you to be one; never cheated or lied to do something with another. He has, yet you trust him.

As soon as you got out of Thanos’ grip, you bolted out of your guy’s dormitory. You could smell the weed on him, the redness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Normally, you didn't care if he was high or got high, as long as it wasn't hardcore drugs—although, he lied every time you asked, always saying it was weed. You knew better, you’re smarter than that, yet you still trusted him.

Now, though? You’re upset and hurt, and who was the first person that came to your mind? Nam-gyu. Every time you and Thanos fought, he was always there for you to cheer you up, make you feel better, and reassure you when Thanos didn't (or wouldn’t).

The knocks against Nam-gyu’s door were insistent; your knuckles rasped against the wood of it. You stood outside for a few seconds, waiting, your arms slightly crossed, your hands holding onto your elbows.

Nam-gyu opened the door, rubbing his eyes for a moment, his gaze focusing on you.

“Y/N? What’re you doin’ here?” He asked, grabbing one of your arms, and pulling you inside.

“It—he…” You couldn't get your words out, just shaking your head. Nam-gyu understood, though.

“‘Ey, it’s okay, c’mere,” he pulled you in for a hug, nothing tight, though. “Just tell me what happened.”

Of course, you did, through a series of sobs and pauses, but he gave his advice.

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. Look, I’m sure he didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” he held you against his chest, sitting down on the couch in his living area.

You sniffle, nodding, your hands draped around his neck. He could feel your cold hands against his warm neck. Nam-gyu always smelt of some sort of musk and drugs, dirty. In a way, it was a very comforting smell to you.

He rubbed your lower back before patting your head, running his hands through your hair, rubbing your scalp, too. It was always so comforting to you: his touches, the way he softly kisses your head, rubs your body, makes you feel so good.

“Nam-gyu, can you…?” You stopped yourself before you could finish your sentence, a bit unsure of how to word your question.

“Yeah? What is it?”

You stayed silent for a moment before looking up at him. You spoke softly to him, “Make me feel better, please.”

Nam-gyu was a bit stunned; you’re Thanos’ girl, not his, not Nam-gyu’s. Yet ever since Thanos introduced you two, Nam-gyu has always had a thing for you: checking you out, those subtle touches and “platonic,” “reassuring” kisses that he’d give you, the soft and sweet way he’d talk to you.

In a way, he wanted to take you as his own. He knows that Thanos would be upset, angry, really fucking angry. Yet he can’t help himself to these thoughts, these sick, dirty thoughts.

Nam-gyu quickly recovered, though, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, baby, just let me take care of you,” his voice was sickeningly sweet, twisted, a little.

Nam-gyu cradled you, picking you up in one swing, your hands still wrapped around his neck, his hands holding you by your waist and your butt. He kept you close, walking you to his bedroom. (His dorm mates were out, no need to worry.)

He sat you down on the edge of his bed, just your feet sticking out. His sheets were rough, nothing like the silk you sleep on in your room. You didn't mind it, though.

You know it’s wrong; just before leaving, you told Thanos that you’d never cheat, yet here you are. Although, a part of you didn't care. Thanos was being a dick, a complete douche. Maybe all you need is a little break from his toxic cock, maybe you need to try his friend’s.

Nam-gyu pulled your shirt up and over your head, the cute, lace, pink bra you normally wear fully exposed to him. He smirked in response, wrapping one of his arms around your upper back, pushing your body up just enough to unclasp your bra, pulling the straps of your bra down, and pulling it off of you.

You felt fully exposed. You’ve only ever been this close to Thanos and an ex from high school. Nam-gyu would be the third person to ever be this close, this intimate.

He let go of her body, letting her body hit the bed.

“You know, you’re beautiful, Y/N,” he spoke, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses down your neck, collarbone, and then to your chest. His mouth found the areola of your breast, licking and sucking on your nipple. His right-hand kneaded at her breast, sending stimulants.

You softly moaned at the sensation. It wasn't as intense as rubbing your clit would be or penetration, but it was still stimulating to get you wet (and ready).

Nam-gyu continued to suck at your breast while his left-hand unbuttoned your jean shorts, slipping his hand through the rough fabric of the denim and the same, lace fabric—of your matching bra—of your panties.

You sucked in a breath, your corresponding hand coming to grab at the one inside your pants.

“Nam-gyu, wait—”

His mouth retracted from your breast, his hands still their movement. He thought you wanted this.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Your lips twitched. You wanted to tell him to stop, that this would be wrong. You asked for it, though, and truly you wanted it, so you retracted your hand. Nam-gyu didn't let your hesitant expression slip his interest.

“You want me to stop?”

You quickly shook your head. Nam-gyu smirked, muttering an “okay,” before slipping your denim shorts off. His eyes stayed on the lace fabric of your panties, he could see the damp spot, your wetness, your arousal.

His fingers went to massage the area, swirling the fabric around with his fingers.

“Man, look at that…” His tone was almost mocking, it made you whimper, almost reminding you of Thanos’ toxic words. “You’re so wet, sweetheart.”

His words made you clench, around nothing, too. That didn’t go unnoticed by Nam-gyu, he could just feel your desperation through your panties. He pulled his fingers away, slipping them off of you.

Your breath hitched at his actions. You could feel the cold air of Nam-gyu’s dorm against your core. He noticed and took advantage of that: moving his hand in a way that would blow air toward you. He noticed your slightly erotic reaction and slathered himself in the success of pleasing you, even just slightly.

You whined, “Don’t tease, please,” your voice was almost angelic to him, the neediness in it just spoke to him like a siren to a sailor.

Nam-gyu obliged, of course. He didn’t want to put any more stress on you than there already is. He dove right in: his middle and ring finger rubbing at your already-wet clit.

“You wanted this, baby?”

You eagerly nodded at Nam-gyu’s words, softly whimpering at his actions. He reveled in the fact that he could pleasure you, maybe even better so than Thanos. His fingers continued their ministrations on your clit, rubbing you just the right way; you moaned at such, almost wanting to beg for more.

Nam-gyu took your whimpers, moans, and gasps as a sign to go further. His fingers moved away from your clit to the inside of your cunny. It was a fast movement, it made you gasp a bit louder, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, your hands found themselves clawing at his sheets. He kept his fingers at a steady pace, curling them up at just the right spot.

“Oh-oh, Nam-gyu…” You whined out the last vowel in his name, feeling his fingers curl up at your g-spot.

“Yeah? Wha’d’ya want, sugar?” He continued to speak with a mocking yet also prideful tone.

You couldn't respond, as you could barely form a coherent thought. The only thing that you are thinking of right now: is Nam-gyu, and the damn-good way that he’s fingering you.

Except, something clicked in your mind. Sugar. He called you “sugar.” Thanos would often use that nickname on you whenever he was doting on you, loving on you—overall, just being a good boyfriend. Except for the fact that his emotions can change like a flipped switch…

That didn't matter to you, though, you quickly blocked it out of your mind. You didn't want to focus on your piece of shit boyfriend.

Just as quickly as the thought occurred to you and as quickly as you pushed it out, you came; your orgasm crashing down on you. Nam-gyu certainly knows how to work with his hands, and you loved that. (Maybe his work was better than Thanos’.)

He pulled his fingers out of you, looking at the sticky substance that coated them, a thin line that connected between his ring and middle finger. He rubbed his hand back onto your pussy.

“Come on, sugar, time for the real show.”

Nam-gyu shrugged his sweatpants and boxers off in a blink, his thick cock springing out. He was already leaking pre-cum.

“Condom?” He asked you, his eyes darting away from your wetness.

Your eyes met his, nodding. If you were going to cheat, you didn't want to be an absolute bitch and get pregnant by his best friend. Just “casual,” “I need some stress relief,” fucking (because of your boyfriend’s douchebag ways.)

Nam-gyu sat up and off of his bed, he grabbed a condom off of a random shelf in his room. You didn't question it.

“Scoot up a bit.”

You did as he asked, moving your body up until your head felt the (very slight) comfort of his pillows. He smiled at the action, moving over and on top of you. He lined his manhood up to your wet entrance.

“You ready, baby?” He asked, his hands coming to rub on your sides, you nodded.

Nam-gyu almost immediately enveloped himself inside of you. You scream-moaned. He was thick, nothing like Thanos—not to say he wasn’t, but the difference was transparent.

“Fuck, fuck…” You breathed heavily, and your hands went to grab at his shoulders, feeling the pain of being stretched out.

Nam-gyu was a patient man, though (sometimes, not really), he didn't want to rush you.

“Too much?”

You shook your head at his question, almost whining. You didn't want him to stop. The stretch was fucking intense, but good God did it feel good.

Nam-gyu nodded, moving slowly at first, just to test the waters.

“Oh-Ah!” Your nails dug into his shoulders, fuck, it felt good.

Nam-gyu halted his movements, his eyes making contact with yours as you moaned. He gave you a look (as if) to ask: “Keep going?” or “Are you okay?” You nodded when you two made eye contact. You wanted this.

Nam-gyu did so. He started sluggish, sensual as if to memorize the feeling of your insides. You were tight, perfect. God, he loved the way that you felt.

It was almost teasing at how slow his movements were. Of course, he wanted to prolong the moment, but you needed this release.

“Nam-gyu, please, just go a bit faster, because shit, I—”

Almost as on cue, he heard you say “faster,” he did. His hips moved at a swift pace, you could hear the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin.

He moved his right hand from your side, using it to grab your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. His cock went deeper inside you.

“Aah—Nam-gyu!” You couldn't help but moan, your head leaning back into the pillow, your hands marking up his back, now.

He grunted at your sounds, not letting up his pace. After such a toxic night with your boyfriend, how could he not give you what you want, what you need?

Your legs twitched at his movements, God, you loved it. His cock hit your cervix a few times, and his movements became a bit more rough. With the new angle, his balls were slapping against your ass.

He kept up, his hand roughly smacking against the thigh that he held up. He knows that you're close, and he wants you to feel that pleasure, yet at the same time, he also wants to prolong this moment as long as possible. He needs this pussy, your pussy.

Just as he felt your walls clench around him, he pulled out—not like he was about to cum.

“Flip over for me, sugar,” He said, patting your thigh before letting it go.

You knew where this was going, and you wanted to entertain that, so you obliged. Your head was in the pillow, ass up.

Nam-gyu held onto your hips as he pushed his dick back inside you.

“Shit, I’m never letting you go after this.”

Nam-gyu knew how upset Thanos would be if he knew that he was fucking his girlfriend right now, but she came onto him. Not his fault (even if he did like her first.) In a way, though, he didn't care about his reaction, all he was focusing on was the pretty pussy that he was fucking right now.

You moaned at the sensations, loud and slutty; like a whore. In which, you were one, but you didn't care about that at the moment.

“So good for me, sugar. Just the way I like it,” Nam-gyu picked up on the fact you liked being praised.

You couldn't help the moan of pleasure and need that came out of your mouth from his words. Good God, how much you like being praised, being told how good you are, it’s pathetic; makes you go completely weak, like a helpless puppy.

You moved your hips against him, in a way so you could feel more of him, get him as deeply inside you as possible.

Nam-gyu smirked at your actions, one of his hands smacking your ass.

“Shh, c’mon. Let me do the work,” He sounded so confident, so sure of himself that he could please you, and you loved it.

The way his thrusts were almost rhythmic yet rough. His cock was thick and just perfect for you, the move of his hips was perfect, too.

“Nam-gyu, fuck…” You couldn't help but moan out his name, it felt so good on your tongue.

He smacked your ass again, speaking to you with a bit more authority, “Yeah, ‘atta girl. Who do you belong to?”

“You! You, Nam-gyu!”

You couldn't help the words that just rolled out of your mouth. Thanos would always ask you that question during sex, while his dick was deep inside your cunny or your ass, you’d always say that you belong to him.

Nam-gyu continued his assault on your pussy, his movements becoming more ragged and uncontrolled. He knew he was close. You were, too; the way your gummy, little walls were clenching around his dick.

With a final thrust of his hips, he came inside the condom inside of you. Your orgasm came washing down over you at the same time he did. You breathed heavily, feeling his cock leave you empty. Yet, at the same time that he pulled out, so did another substance.

©2025 rechvlle do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on any other sites.

[bendover-productions]

bless tenor @lagging-jets for coming through with the details:

WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME SAM WAS A DANIEL RICCIARDO FAN OR WAS I JUST SUPPOSED TO FIND THIS OUT BY WATCHING SEASON THREE MYSELF

[txkby]

My experience with the Void State.

Before I discovered the Void State, I practiced meditation regularly in 2022 (literally the year of the Void State on Tumblr), the sensations I had when meditating were truly exquisite, that tranquility and peace are simply incomparable with people, material things, etc.

I swear that nothing has filled my soul like those sensations.

(This is very important, remember it)

I stopped meditating afterwards because I didn't have time and when I wanted to do it I fell asleep, like when you want to get to the Void, don't you think? LOL

I discovered the Void around the beginning of 2023, but I never gave it any importance, i've almost never liked the methods, because it get obsessed, and that's what I did, I got obsessed.

I became so obsessed with the Void that I was constantly looking for information everywhere, on Google, here on Tumblr, Twitter, YouTube, and in endless places.

And every day I spent time doing methods to get there, meditations, affirmations, etc. But I just couldn't get there, I couldn't.

I felt so bad guys, I felt tired, have you ever felt that tiredness that feels more like giving up? That's what I felt.

I felt dissatisfied with my life, and it's hard because you feel ungrateful to the universe, to people, to everything.

But I kept on trying every day to get to the Void, but again, I never got there, not that way.

So I went back to the beginning, I went back to the basics, what is the Void? How do you get there? And I realized that I forgot what the Void really was, I forgot everything because of my desperation and obsession to get there.

What I did to get to the Void was the following:

- I gave up, but not giving up by throwing in the towel, but by letting myself go.

- let it go, detach myself from it

- remember that the Void is a state, it is something attached to us that simply cannot be prevented

- I stopped trying to reach the Void with extreme methods, I stopped trying to get there with steps, with rules.

- I stopped forcing myself to reach the Void, because the Void is not effort, it is relaxation, it is letting go, it is surrendering

- I changed my focus, instead of wanting to reach the Void by manifesting my desires, I changed it to simply having a good time, to relax

- I started doing simple meditations, nothing like "meditation to reach the Void, meditation for this, meditation for that", no, just simple meditations.

- don't look for symptoms because that takes you away from relaxation, it takes you away from the key to reach the Void

- relax, that's the Void, never forget it

And I remembered that the sensations I had when meditating for 2022 were the same as the Void, which means that I had possibly reached the Void State at that time, but since I didn't know about the subject, I didn't make an effort to reach the Void, I just wanted to meditate for fun, and this is very important because when we concentrate and force ourselves to reach the Void, we don't get there, when we are desperate to reach the void we won't get there, when we are anxious to reach the Void we won't get there.

So, after doing all that, remembering all that, I reached the Void.

And it didn't take me more than 1 week after to understand everything I just said.

In the Void I felt what I felt when meditating, that exquisite tranquility, that peace, that happiness, and of course you have no emotions, thoughts and you don't feel your body at all.

I didn't manifest much, I only changed my name, time of birth, my personality, my mentality and voice, because that was why I wanted to get there, I felt bad about myself because during 2020 to 2022 I suffered from depression, my father passed away, the changes that occurred in those times affected me mentally, I had social anxiety, I suffered, it was horrible.

But by manifesting my change of mentality and personality my perspective on life changed, therefore now I am happy.

The thing about my time of birth was simply for fun LOL, and my name, my old name, mmm 🫤 , I never felt identified with it, I was not her.

Like all of you, I suffered for wanting to get to the Void, for looking for symptoms

And not letting myself in getting there, because of my focus, because of my low self-confidence, because of my obsession, because of my desperation.

Give up to enter the Void.

And well guys, that's my experience with the Void, this post is so long but necessary, byee.

(I hope the translation is correct LOL) 🫂😝

[scorpieuns]

I’M YOURS | JAKE SIM

pairing: ex!jake x afab!reader, friend! sunghoon x afab!reader

summary: despite your best friend and sunghoon’s attempts to get to you move on from your ex-boyfriend, you just simply cannot get over jake—and he can’t either.

word count: 6.1k

genre: friends to undefined. exes to ambiguous. college setting.

warnings (18+): smut (absolute filth.) fluff (if you use a microscope lmfao). alcohol. mentions of breakups. (slightly) possesive jake. kissing. grinding. nipple play (f. recieving). fingering (f. recieving.). unprotected sex. slightly rough sex. doggie. slight hair pulling. multiple orgasms. both reader and jake are stubborn as hell. (let me know if there’s anything missing!)

A/N: inspired by the request posts from @rivaillescum and @teddursa — I got wayyy to carried away lol but first long fic post!

“What about him?” Aeri yells over the music, your eyes following her pointed finger towards a man leaning against the wall with his eyes glued to the phone in his hand.

“Park Wonbin from art history?” You turn to the girl with an eyebrow raised, “Park Wonbin, who’s had a girlfriend since last fall?”

Aeri's shoulders sink, “I should’ve known someone who looked like that wasn’t single.” You laugh at her bummed out expression, sipping the drink in your hands as you subtly dance to the music playing.

“Now him?” She nods towards the direction of another man, expressively dancing in the large crowd, “I cannot have a one night stand with a wannabe tiktoker Ae.”

“Why are you so difficult?” She groans, resting her head against the wall.

“Just give up already.”

“I can’t,” she whines, “I brought you out tonight so you could have fun, and get over Jake.”

You almost choke on your drink, “What? It's been like…two weeks since we broke up.”

“Exactly.” She retorts. “That’s why I shouldn't catch you staring at his contact all the damn time.” Your mouth falls open, “That was just one time!”

Aeri raises her eyebrows and you fall silent, already foreseeing your defeat in this little argument.

“Look,” Aeri says, her voice softening, “what matters is that this time you’re really done with him.” Her words were gentle, but the weight of them hit you harder than you expected. Aeri meant well, but the truth was embarrassing.

It had been two weeks since you broke up with Jake—for the third time in four months. Yes, third.

And no, you didn’t know why you kept going back either. Maybe dating a frat boy who happened to be a soccer star wasn’t your brightest idea.

Looking back, it seemed like you'd signed up for trouble with a side of emotional whiplash and good sex.

At first, Jake had been amazing.

Sophomore year started like a rom-com: he treated you like royalty, planned cute dates, stayed up all night with you in the library (even though he wasn’t the one with exams), and Jake just couldn’t get enough of you. The first six months were straight out of your dreams.

Your friends were gagging at how cute you were, even painting your face with his team colours to cheer him on with your friends from the bleachers like the supportive girlfriend you were—waiting for him to sweep you off your feet with a kiss whenever he won a game.

Then, everything changed after the final soccer game for the College Cup. Jake’s hero moment brought home the trophy, and suddenly, soccer was his whole life. You were still proud of him, of course, but things quickly started to feel…off.

Calls became shorter, dates were postponed, and before you knew it, you were practically his motivational speaker, squeezed in between practice sessions and interviews.

By the end, it felt like you were on his schedule, like a convenience more than a priority. He only called when he needed something—and that was obviously whenever he was horny and wanted to fuck what ever stress he had out of him.

You finally confronted him about it, hoping he’d realize that he was treating you like a fuck buddy more than his girlfriend—but instead, Jake argued, claiming he was too “busy” for “all that other dating stuff.”

That was your tipping point.

So, you broke up. And just when you thought you were free and ready to move on, summer ended and Jake reappeared like some kind of relationship boomerang.

He apologized, said all the right things, told you how much he missed you—and boom. Hours later, you’re back in his bed, wondering how it all happened.

The cycle was maddening. Each time he’d win you over with apologies and promises, things would feel perfect again, and then…well, you knew how it went.

“This time, it’s really over,” you declare over the pounding music, convincing yourself more than anyone else.

The last breakup was the worst yet. You argued for hours, screaming about relationships and priorities, and it finally hit you: Jake didn’t really deserve your time.

So why was it so hard to let him go?

You brushed away the ache in your heart as your argument came to mind, downing what was left of your drink to somehow dull the pain and take solace in the alcohol settling into your system.

“You just need a rebound.” Aeri says over the music, “I promise you, a good one night stand might just give you a fresh start and get you out of Jake's chokehold.”

“So is that why you dragged me to a party being hosted by his frat house?” You inquired with amusement. “Oh come on! Not every guy here belongs to the frat.”

You mull over her ‘rebound’ statement, eyes surveying the crowd as your nails made dents into the empty can. “Speaking of...” Aeri trails off and you follow the direction of her gaze to another one of your university's well known juniors and soccer players, Park Sunghoon.

Your eyes landed on his, staring at you from across the room with a gaze that made your cheeks warm. Sunghoon was one of the other popular boys in the year. He was sweet, funny, playful and damn that smile— you understood why girls fell at his feet.

You and Sunghoon had a few interactions before. You volunteered as a first aid for their soccer games on a few occasions, and he consistently took the chance to talk to you whenever you were present or needed his supposedly real injuries examined.

“He's been watching you for quite a while now.” She adds, playfully bumping her shoulder against yours. You divert your attention from him and look back at your best friend who was sporting a cheeky grin.

“The goalkeeper, Ae? That’s such a low blow.”

The girl besides you shrugs, moving her body to the beat of the music, “So…? He clearly likes you and I’m one hundred percent sure he’d treat you better than he ever did.”

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when she cuts you off. “Oh! I think I have to go to the…bathroom! I’ll see you later (Y/N).” She says, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before rushing away from your side.

Your eyebrows meet in confusion as she dashes away from you, mouth agape at her sudden and abrupt departure—even running the opposite way.

But before your mind can conjure up any reasons, you hear your name being called in the loud crowd, turning to see Sunghoon making his way to you.

Oh. I see what you did there Aeri.

"Hey, angel," Sunghoon’s voice is low, with that unmistakable charm as he saunters up to you, eyes locked on yours.

"Sunghoon," you breathe, smiling as he closes the distance, his arms opening for you. His gaze flickers over your face, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Knew I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere," he murmurs as his arms slip around your waist, pulling you close.

For a moment, you let yourself sink into him—his scent wrapping around you, the firm warmth of his hands pressing against your lower back. It’s like everything around you fades except the feel of his body, the way your heart picks up in rhythm with his.

“How’ve you been?” you ask softly, voice catching just a bit as he pulls away, though his hands stay where they are, fingers resting casually on your hips.

“Any ‘injuries’ since I’ve been gone?” You tease, and the sound of his laugh sends a thrill through you.

“You noticed, huh?” Sunghoon’s voice drops a notch lower, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles just above your hip.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "How many times were you going to fake a knee injury in one game?”

“As many times as it took to get you close.” His hand lifts, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin just enough to make you bite your lip.

“It’s kinda hard to keep my eyes on you when I'm supposed to be, y’know…playing.” His lips curl into a slow smirk, eyes burning into yours.

“Well,” you whisper, feeling the heat rise between you, “you’ve got me all to yourself now.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops to your lips, making your pulse race. The air thickens, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?” His voice is pure temptation, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Do I get to kiss you too?”

You don’t even have to think about it. You nod, lips parting slightly, eyes dipping to his mouth. His smirk deepens as he closes the distance, and your breath catches, waiting for the touch you've been craving.

Sunghoon wasted no time kissing you, softly crashing his lips against yours in a way that made you hum in content.

You could taste the remnants of his drink as he kissed you slowly and softly, meticulously exploring your mouth with his tongue as his hands stayed glued to your hips, rubbing your sides through the silk fabric of your minidress.

Your hand drifted to his, guiding it down to cup your ass which made him groan into your mouth. Sunghoon broke away from the kiss, softly biting your bottom lip as he pulled away with a smirk.

He leans closer to the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Do you want to take this upstairs?” The feeling of his hand caressing your ass makes you sigh, already feeling the fabric of your underwear sticking to you.

But before you could even respond, your eyes landed on someone who had suddenly materialised across the room, heart dropping to your stomach and your breath catching in your throat.

Jake.

His clenched jaw made you conclude that his eyes were seemingly already on you for what must’ve been like a while now, searing holes through you and Sunghoon from afar.

Your ears grew warm, gently pushing the tall man off you with a strained exhale. “Is everything alright? Did I do anything wrong?” Sunghoon asked as he scanned you worryingly.

“Of course not!” You immediately protest, “I just…” you trailed off as your eyes darted to the man who was still staring at you before they landed back on Sunghoon’s concerned ones.

“I don’t think I’m feeling well.”

It wasn’t a lie. You felt like you were gonna throw up with all the bile that was rising in your throat.

Why did he have to appear right now?

You could feel yourself slowly sobering up as you glanced at Jake once again, warm brown eyes staring you down in a way that made your breathing stutter.

“I think I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter as you look away, swallowing the unwelcomed lump in your throat.

“Oh…the line to the bathroom looks pretty bad right now, you could use ours upstairs?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Sure!” He nods with a smile, “do you want me to go with you?”

You shake your head, “It's okay, I’ll…I’ll be back” You smile weakly, pressing a quick kiss on Sunghoon’s lips before you slip away from his hold.

You couldn’t even bother to reply to his distant “call me if you need me” as you travelled through the sea of bodies, trying to find your way to stairs as your heart hammered out of your chest.

Shit.

Nothing could’ve prepared you to actually see Jake, even if you half-heartedly expected it. The frat house was so large, you had concluded that you probably wouldn’t have to see him.

Some part of you—regrettably and painfully so, already concluded that he was probably somewhere, rutting into some girl that threw herself at him, celebrating the freedom of being single or something.

You stormed up the stairs, making a beeline for the bathroom, relieved to find that it was empty as Sunghoon had mentioned, and as soon as the door closed behind you, you let out a weary sigh, muttering a curse under your breath.

Now you were mad at yourself. Why did you push Sunghoon away?

You could’ve let the junior lead you upstairs all while Sunghoon watched, knowing he knew exactly what you’d be up to–but you pushed him off. You could already imagine Jake’s joy when you walked away, leaving Sunghoon alone in the crowd.

Well done (Y/N).

Well-fucking-done. You thought to yourself as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, but your little self berating session was interrupted by the suddenly louder and crispier sound of music emitting into the bathroom, eyes travelling to the opened door.

When Jake comes into view, you roll your eyes and sigh inwardly. “What the hell do you want, Jake?” Is all you say, instantly plagued by irritation.

It was hard to admit, but he did look good tonight. All traces of his once blonde tinged hair were drowned out by the colour of jet black and it suited him so well.

He was dressed in a black dress shirt, chain around his neck and pair of loose fitting jeans that hung around his hips—a simple outfit that still looked undeniably great on him.

“I just came to check on you,” he shoves his hands in his back pockets as he nods his head to the door, “you didn’t look so well out there.”

“I’m fine.” You say, turning away, “can you get fuck out now?”

“Woah, just hang on a sec,” Jake sighs, “I haven’t seen you in ages, princess.”

Princess.

“I’m not your princess anymore Jake,” you deadpanned. “We broke up, remember? For good this time.” You added, emphasising the finality of it.

You wanted to make it clear that there was no going back, that this time Jake couldn't make you cave or entice you to return.

You were ready for something–someone– new, and you were pretty sure he was still waiting for you downstairs.

This was the perfect time to leave before you’d probably do anything you’d regret, especially when you noticed Jake’s lingering gaze on your minidress.

You cleared your throat, rolling your eyes as you tried to slip past Jake, but he blocked your way, his hand grabbing your wrist. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to halt you. “So, you’re really going back to him?” His words were sharp, a hint of desperation creeping in.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “That’s none of your business.” Yanking your hand free, you spun on your heel, making for the door without so much as a second glance.

“(Y/N), baby, wait.” He followed closely, reaching out again, but you dodged him with a huff, crossing your arms tighter around yourself.

“Jake, seriously, just leave me alone.”

“Baby—” He finally managed to catch your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You groaned, throwing your head back with exaggerated frustration. “What now, Jake?”

He tried to meet your eyes, but you refused, stubbornly staring at anything that wasn’t his face. His hand cupped your chin, gently turning your face to his.

“Can we please talk? Please?” Jake’s voice was soft, almost pleading, and that stupid thumb of his traced along your jaw, sending a wave of heat through you that you definitely did not want to feel right now.

“Fine. Whatever,” you muttered, not quite looking at him but letting him lead you into his room.

As the door closed behind you, muffling the noise of the party downstairs, your gaze drifted around the room, filled with memories you weren’t ready to be reminded of yet.

But Jake didn’t give you the chance to settle into those thoughts. “Sunghoon?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief as he turned to you. His expression darkened instantly. “Seriously? Sunghoon?”

You snorted, shrugging carelessly. “Yeah, so what? He’s hot.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you could practically hear his teeth grinding together. “So, what—you’re actually gonna sleep with him?” He sounded like he couldn’t decide if he was hurt or furious.

You folded your arms, lifting your chin defiantly. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” He stepped closer, and this time, you didn’t flinch. You wanted him to be mad. You liked him like this, all riled up and focused on you.

“You’re gonna fuck the one guy you told me not to worry about? The guy who’s been after you since the day we got together? My friend and my teammate?”

His eyes narrowed at you and you shrugged again, feigning indifference even though your heart was beating way too fast. “We’re not together anymore, Jake. I can sleep with whoever I want.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite read—anger, hurt, jealousy, all rolled into one.

“Wow. You really don’t care, do you?” His voice had gone quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel something twist in your stomach.

You opened your mouth to snap back, but the words didn’t come out as easily as you wanted them to. “I don’t…I mean, I told you, I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t get to—

“I don’t get to?” He cut you off, his laugh bitter as he ran his hand through his hair, pacing in front of you. “You’ve really moved on, huh? That easy?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go. But before you could say anything, he stepped closer again, backing you up until your legs hit the bed.

“You still feel something, (Y/N),” he said, his voice low, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to deny, even if you wanted to. “You’re still mine. You know it.”

Your heart was racing now, his closeness making it hard to breathe. But you weren’t about to let him win that easily. “I’m not yours, Jake. Not anymore.” Your voice wavered, just slightly, but you held your ground.

His hand reached out, fingertips brushing your arm, the touch so light it made your skin tingle. “Say it again,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Tell me you don’t care.”

You swallowed, hating how your resolve was crumbling under his touch. “I—I don’t care,” you repeated, but the words sounded less convincing now, and you both knew it.

“I’m done with you, Jake.” Your voice came out sharper, laced with defiance, but the flicker of doubt behind it didn’t go unnoticed by your ex boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” Jake’s words were smooth, almost teasing, as he leaned in closer, fingers drifting over to the slope of your neck.

He saw the way your eyes betrayed you, flickering to his lips for a brief second, and his smirk grew. “Because you don’t look over me.”

You rolled your eyes, even though your pulse quickened. “Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?” The bitterness in your laugh didn’t mask the heat that rose to your cheeks.

“Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any less true,” he said, his voice infuriatingly smug. “I saw you staring at me out there, (Y/N). You couldn’t keep your eyes off me, even with him standing right there.”

“You’re delusional,” you shot back, but the words didn’t have the bite you wanted them to. There was an edge of frustration—at him, at yourself—that you couldn’t shake. “I wasn’t staring at you.”

Jake chuckled softly, stepping in just enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. “Sure, baby. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You are such an asshole,” you hissed, trying to inject some venom into the words, but it came out more exasperated than you intended.

Jake tilted his head, his gaze softening in that maddening way, like he knew exactly how to unravel you. “Come on (Y/N), don’t be like that. You know you miss me.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach, the warmth creeping into your chest. “I don’t miss anything about you.”

“Really?” he whispered, his hand finding its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his touch sent sparks through your skin. “Because I miss you. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the traitorous warmth spreading through your veins.

His eyes—those stupid, beautiful brown eyes—were staring right into yours, and you hated that they still had that effect on you. But you weren’t about to give in. Not this time.

“I bet you have,” you muttered, rolling your eyes, though the sarcasm lacked its usual punch. “Probably because you miss having someone at your beck and call.”

Jake’s smirk faltered, but his gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not it, and you know it.” His voice was lower now, more intimate, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I miss you.”

Your chest tightened and you hated how easily he got to you, how your demeanor crumbled the second he looked at you like that.

“I’ve moved on,” you said, but your voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

“Have you?” He breathed, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of his bated breath against your lips, “because right now, you don’t look like someone who’s moved on.”

You should’ve pushed him away, told him off like you promised Aeri you would. But instead, a warm feeling fluttered in the pit of your stomach as his lips hovered just out of reach.

Jake’s fingers traced the line of your jaw, then down the side of your neck, sending electric shivers through your body as he leaned in even closer.

The air between you was thick with tension, your breath shaky as you struggled to maintain control, slowly failing your resistance to give in to the desire that threatened to pull you under.

Jake’s lips brushed against yours before crashing against them in a heated, desperate kiss, his hand falling waist with tightening grip as if he was afraid to let go.

You kissed him back fiercely, your hands gripping his shirt as if to anchor yourself to the moment, all the anger, frustration, and unresolved feelings pouring into the kiss.

His soft plump lips moved unrelenting and hungrily against yours, his hands moving to cup your cheeks, fingers resting on your jaw as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to stay balanced as so many feelings crashed over you in equal measures, desperately leaning up into the kiss as you tried to match his fervour.

Oh, how you missed it.

His lips, his touch.

It all felt like a drug, a drug you disappointingly couldn't get enough of.

You fell into the bed softly, letting Jake hover over you without breaking the kisses, “I missed you.” he whispers, before kissing you again.

For a split second, you pulled back, breathless, your chest rising and falling as you looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re still an asshole,” you muttered, though there was no bite left in your voice now.

Jake’s lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one slower, softer. “Yeah, but you’re still kissing me,” he whispered against your lips.

Jake’s lips continued to moved against yours and you could barely breathe from the tightness in your chest, tangling your fingers into his soft hair as you drew him closer.

He pulled away and you barely had a second to think before his lips were on your neck, head falling to the side as soft sloppy kisses were pressed onto your skin, eliciting a soft moan from you.

You could feel Jake smirk against your neck, sucking marks into your skin that you were sure he wanted to show.

Your eyes flutter shut as his hands slowly ease down your body, his touch firmer than last time, lips lingering on the slope of your neck and fingers sliding under your dress.

Jake’s warm palm slid up the inside of your thighs and a wave of anticipation and desire coursed through you, a sound escaping your throat only to be muffled by his lips.

He pulled away and latched his lips to your collarbone, sucking and littering the skin with hues of purple as his fingers traced along your underwear making you arch your back reflectively.

"I’ve missed this." Jake whispers, hooking his finger around the waistband of your underwear, pressing a trail of sloppy kisses down the valley of your breasts as he slowly pulls your underwear off.

A shaky sigh fell past your lips at the feeling of the cool air hitting your cunt, and you couldn’t help but cry at the feeling of Jake’s fingers running up your glistening folds.

“Well…I…haven’t.” You breathe out stubbornly as his other hand pushes your straps over your arms, fingers brushing the cup of your dress away and running over your naked breasts.

The feeling of his cold rings grazing over your nipples makes you clench around nothing, half lidded eyes staring back at his lustful ones.

“Hmm. Really?” He asks, looking down between your legs, raising his eyebrow as he looked up.

“That was probably…” You begin, slowly losing your train of thought at the feeling of his hand caressing your breasts. “Shit—that was probably Sunghoon” You only manage to say in between swallowed moans.

“Come again?”

Your cheeky smile was quickly wiped off, as his fingers traced up and down your folds, biting your lip with a whine as he circled your wet entrance.

A soft breathy moan leaves your lips, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as his fingers slid into you with ease, leaning into his touch. “Jake, shit—” Your voice cuts off, mouth falling agape as he slowly drags his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s what I thought.”

Prick.

Jake’s plump lips latch onto your erect nipple, tongue swirling and sucking on the sensitive bud and your head falls back into the pillow biting your lip as your hands weave into Jake’s soft hair.

Jake groaned around your sensitive bud, making your whole body twitch at the vibration. His tongue moved to your other one, giving it the same treatment and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding against him, needing more.

His tongue and fingers were doing wonders on you, trying to silence the sounds falling from your lips. You resisted your moans by biting your lip to avoid giving him that satisfaction—which he obviously hated.

Jake could still tell that you were falling apart, ruining the fabric of his shirt and grinding into his fingers breathlessly, but that wasn't enough, he wanted to hear you.

“So we’re playing it that way, huh?” He pulled away, chest heaving against yours as you grabbed his arm, fingers continuing to pump into you, throwing head back with a breathy, almost silent moan before looking back at him.

“What way?” You rasped, feigning innocence, watching your ex-boyfriend chuckle to himself.

“Okay.”

And before you could get lost in the feeling of his fingers any longer, he slips out of your cunt, whining at the loss of his touch.

You were barely given time to protest or process anything before he swiftly flipped you over, face meeting the soft pillows that adorned his bed with a surprised gasp.

You could feel your heart thrum against your chest, face growing warm at the compromising position Jake just put you in.

You turned around, glancing at Jake's lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking your arousal clean off with a delighted hum.

He eyes darted over to yours, and you tore your eyes away, that dull ache returning to your thighs from the sight.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” Jake's eyes trailed over your backside, “you’ll scream my name.” He groaned, kneading the soft flesh of your ass as your breath stuttered.

Jake quickly got rid of his clothes and you hated the way your heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

“Are you sure about that?” You challenge, almost yelping when he suddenly grabs your hips flush to his own.

He leaned over to you, brushing your hair away from your face as he pressed a soft kiss on the side of your temple.

“You and that damn attitude.” Jake clicked his tongue as he ran his cock along your folds, soft whimpers leaving your lips as he slowly pushed himself into you.

Jake watched as he eased himself in, moaning at the way your warmth and wetness sucked him in like a vacuum.

The stretch felt so good, so undeniably good and you hated the way your walls instantly fluttered around him, soft pathetic sounds falling out of your lips as he began to move, grabbing the sheets beneath with your swallowed cries.

You clamp your hand over your mouth and Jake glares, shaking his head with an affronted expression as he grabs that wrist, pinning it behind your back as he continues to work himself in and out of you.

“Shit.” You gasp, letting a few whimpers slip past your lips, cheek flushed against the soft pillows, a few moans escaping your throat at the feeling of him brushing over you in a way that made your vision cloudy before closing your mouth.

"You're taking me soooo well, baby.” Jake’s brows drew together with a moan, snapping his hips to yours as you clenched around him.

"Fuck, you missed this didn't you?" He hissed, watching you writhe in pleasure.

You were a mess beneath him, tears pricking your eyes at the way he relentlessly pounded into you.

You let out a loud gasp when Jake reached under to play with your clit, pressing his finger into it, "Jake." You whispered with a whimper, fisting the sheets, still stubbornly refusing to make any sound—which Jake only took as a challenge.

Your heart couldn't help but swell with guilt when Sunghoon came to mind, still awaiting your return.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe after a few minutes had passed, he went over to check on you, only to hear your moans emitting from the crevices of Jake's door before walking away.

Jake really did have a chokehold on you.

The man pulled out with a curse, and you cried at the sudden loss. You were about to turn around to protest when Jake gripped the base of his cock, lining up with your puffy entrance again.

With no warning, Jake plunged his dick into your tight heat, the sound of skin slapping against each other and a scream leaving your lips as the man fucked you relentlessly.

“That's it, princess, let me hear those beautiful moans.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, gasping and writhing, arching your back and pushing yourself against his cock, begging for more.

“You're so fucking good around me- fucking made for me.” Jake groans, low moans tumbling from his lips.

"You're mine aren't you?"

Of course, you wanted to scream no—you wanted to deny his claim, but his name spilled out of your lips, again and again, begging him not to stop.

"Say you're mine." He hissed, pounding his cock into you. Your heart raced, and you were certain that he could feel it as the pleasure continuously washed over you.

"Say it."

“Jake oh my—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hit your sweet spot, your face hot as you let out lewd sounds into the pillows with no control of your own, throat strained already.

"Fuck—Yes! I'm yours." You screamed, tears spilling out of your eyes as he worked his hand around your clit.

“I’m yours.” You moaned, clawing at the sheets. He continued to rub his finger over your swollen bud, his other hand reaching over to gently grab a fistful of your hair bringing you flush to his chest.

You could feel your legs begin to tremble as profound pleasure coursed through you, hands flailing around to grip on his shoulder as you continuously surged forward from Jake’s thrusts.

“That’s right, baby.” He rasped, almost bordering whimpers as he continued to pump in you, thick velvety walls hugging him so tightly, slipping in and out of you with such ease.

Your whimpers and screams echoed through the room, legs threatening to give out from just how good he felt, dizzying and intense pleasure washing over you everytime he thrusted into you.

You were too fucked out to be self conscious about your loud moans, or concerned that maybe people could somehow hear Jake fucking your brains out over the loud music.

If you weren’t so clouded and already fucked out, you would’ve guessed that Jake probably loved how loud you were.

It felt like he was telling the whole house that you were still his no matter what—especially Park Sunghoon.

Jake would notice the goalkeeper staring at you from across the field, cozying up to you as if he wasn’t just a few metres away from you— the nerve.

Like what the fuck happened to bro code?

“Do you think he can make you feel this way baby?” he asks and your mouth falls agape, brain foggy. You shook your head with a whimper.

You were so out of focus, his dick so good and stupefying that you couldn't even speak.

Jake revelled in the moans of his name tumbling past your lips. The thought of another guy’s name leaving those pretty lips drove him crazy, you were his, he had no idea what was going in Sunghoon’s mind to think that he could actually be with you.

He could feel you tightening around him and he knew you were close, thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.

"Say my name." He hissed, "tell me who makes you feel this good."

"Jake-"

“I can’t hear you princess.” He groaned.

"Jake!" You sobbed, gasping and squirming as the pleasure became too much.

"That’s it, come for me, baby." He cooed, wrapping an arm around your neck and squeezing it gently.

The pressure on your throat, and the way his fingers played with your clit were enough to make you scream out his name, the coil in your stomach finally snapping, walls clamping around him and milking him for all he's worth as your legs shook, vision blackening, and eyes squeezing shut.

You moan his name, the only thing running through your mind and leaving your lips as he places you back into the bed, holding your hips.

"That’s right." Jake groaned, still slamming his hips into you. "Who does your pussy belong to?"

“Fuck,” you cried out, feeling another orgasm creep in, "it belongs to you, only you." You mewled as your walls tightened, shattering pleasure rippling through you once again, as his thrusts finally slowed.

“Such a pretty sight for me.” He moaned with a final thrust, shooting his seed into you as he rode out your highs.

Jake continued to empty his load into you, softly whimpering at the sudden warmth coating your walls until he finally pulled out of you.

Your head fell into pillows, the aftershocks of your orgasms still rippling through you as you tried to catch your breath.

"(Y/N)," He said softly, and you could feel his hands rest on the slope of neck and you slowly turned to look at him.

Jake gently wiped away your stray tears, his eyes looking for some sort of affirmation that what he did was okay, that he hadn't gone too far, that he didn't hurt you.

"You okay?"

You nodded with a dazed laugh, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rasped, as he enveloped your lips in a sloppy and gentle kiss.

Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the marks on your neck that he left a while ago.

“Stay over.” He whispers against your skin and your shoulders fall with a sigh, hands brushing his slightly damp hair away from his face, “I don’t know Jake…”

“Just for tonight.”

“Please.” He begs, in a softer tone. You looked at him— at his pretty face, his pink plump lips and his slightly messy hair, breathing in the mellow undertones of sweet vanilla in the perfume he was wearing tonight.

“Jake.” You whisper again, as you watch his hands caress your shoulders. You look up at him, ready to turn him down but you don’t say anything.

“We don’t have to do anything…I just want to be with you.”

Those words.

It’s like you could see your past self rolling her eyes, “not again.”

“Okay.”

You let him pull you back to his chest, let him wrap his arms around you as you fell asleep, lulled by the rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his beating heart.

Jake watched you fall asleep in his arms, and the sight alone made him forget about the world outside, and the ache that was still in his chest.

It was just for tonight.

Just for tonight.

[diejager]

more eldritch:konig X his darling mermaid, please & thank you

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.2

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, breeding kink, protective König, hunting, oviposition, tentacles, eggpreg, stomach bulge, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

Prev

You hadn’t seen the sun in a while, neither had you gone hunting, nor seen your parents. You missed the freedom you had, swimming and racing the others mers your age through the coral reefs, that mundane, but fun activity you did once in a while when everyone gathered at the same spot.   

“Please, König, I just want to lay in the sun!”

“Nein, the outside world is dangerous, Schatz, ” his tone seemed apologetic, eyes cast down, avoiding your tearful eyes that gleamed beautifully from the bioluminescent plants, “I cannot.”

That was what he always told you, his words repeated on themselves, overlapping in your mind without holding much intent of substance to it. Why would it when all he told you was no? His excuses were getting old, they rarely changed over the few months he kept you in his cave, the little haven you grew to love now became a prison, a pretty cage to keep you locked away from the world you were born into. They always had an aspect in common: danger. He would say that it was too dangerous for you, that there were horrors living around his cave and wandering too closely to the edge you found him, the precipice of light and darkness that he stalked you from. If it wasn’t that, he’d push strongly that you could be taken away from him, caught and eaten by another Eldritch Horror that didn’t have the same obsession and favorability for pretty things like you. 

He slowly approached you, arms reaching out towards you to embrace you, his fingers finding the softness of your hips. Kneading the line between your skin and scales, thumb smoothing over your opalescent scales, the smooth surface of it that helped you swim as swiftly as you could. You were a quick, little mouse, able to outrun him if you put enough effort and intention in it to escape his limbs. You shuddered against him, looping your arms around him for comfort that he never kept from you, often reminding you that he loved you and that he would do anything for you —except give you back your freedom.  

You sobbed, a heart-wrenching cry slipping out of your pout, your glossy lips pulled down while pearly tears floated upwards, the density of your tears weighing less than the heaviness in his cave, a closed-off ocean of horror he painted over with enthusiasm and comfort. He whispered sweet words to you, smaller tentacles slipping under his hood to cradle your face. They acted as individual fingers, holding your face as if they were hands holding your chin up, curling under your jaw and eyes with the smooth side of his limbs, keeping the suckers away from your pretty face. He touched you so gently, careful to never break your skin or dirty the angelic image he had of you in his sickened mind. He wrapped himself around you, his thicker limbs latching onto you with the intention of never letting go, curling and looping around one another. The messy bundles kept you stuck to him as you whined, crying out the frustration and sadness you felt throughout your situation.

“Hush, don’t cry, mein kleiner Schatzi,” he wiped away your tears, and collected them between the suckers of his arms, watching them gleam with an opalescent shine, much like those of black mollusc shells. They were a spectacle, a beautiful thing coming from his precious mate, “We can go out when it is safe, ja?”

You nodded your little head, closing your eyes and nuzzling against his broad chest, the softness of his scarred skin that easily moulded to fit your shape. It was strange how easily he changed to fit your liking, to answer to your whims despite your protest or your reluctance. You couldn’t hate him, you simply couldn’t after all the things he did for you and how well he cared for you. Perhaps you’d fallen for him, falling so deeply in this hole of unwilling darkness and strange affection —your naivety working against your betterment and with his mind, dark and wretched. Despite your wails and frustrations towards König, he was all you had, all you had known for the past months, so you sought comfort and safety from him, unknowingly falling into his plan. 

You let him lead you away from the open entrance, down the wide gate of his - your - room to lay you down, unable to move from the confines of his many arms and the warmth he provided. König was warm, he’d always burned hot compared to the cold waters of the abyss, the swirling vacuum of freezing water that seemed to have no end and the surface that stayed cool despite bathing under the sun for half the day. You thrived on warmth, soaking it up to keep your metabolism going, to be able to function without crashing or slowing down, you needed it and you depended on König to keep you warm. 

He pressed down on you, his broad figure looming over your smaller and fragile one, casting a dark shadow with his sole presence. He brushed your hair away, the tip of his tentacle tickling your ear as he murmured temptation, his wide palms leaving your hips to trail down the curve of your navel, teasing the dilated hole of your core, blinking and oozing out slick. He pressed a finger in, listening to you mewl and squirm in his tight hold, your tail twisting and turning before ultimately bucking into his palm when he slid a second one in. He watched your pretty lips part in a gasp, eyes rolling back in pleasure, your lashes fluttering so prettily for him. You felt him everywhere, he was inside of you and all around you, his many arms working as extensions of his presence, teasing you with his little suckers, pulling and biting at you. 

“Let me ease your mind,” his mask rose over his nose, tentacles parting like curtains to kiss you. It was all teeth and aggression, his kiss turning into a sign of possession, marking you with his taste and scent. He didn’t have any lips, or lips similar to yours, they were flat, hidden by a moustache of tentacles, thinner and shorter than his other ones, “Help you relax.” 

They easily slipped into your mouth as he pumped you, fingers curling into the softer part of your cunt. You mewled, rutting back, walls clamping down on his fingers, their thick and rough textures doing you in with the flick of your swollen nub once he coached it out of its protective sheath. He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulder, letting the cup sag enough to show your pretty nipples, perky and glistening, tempting him to kiss and bite at them. In his rush, he snapped your bra from the middle by the girth of his tentacles, curling around your tits to knead and play with your little nubs, covering them with a sucker and he pulled, the ride closing around it and pulled. You clamped down on him, your slick sticking to his hand as you burst, eyes rolled back so far that all you could see was the white. König admired you, his eyes gleaming with glee at your climax, helping you ride it out with slow pumps of his fingers. He watched your pupils dilate, steadily coming down from your high with laboured breathing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he smiled under his hood, his eyes creasing in the low light. They roved over your face, over your hooded eyes and your parted mouth, down the slope of your neck and the swell of your breasts, and ending at your cunt, your labia closed around two digits, slick and throbbing. “You drive me crazy, Schatz.”

He was panting, his body riled up with how much his many limbs were swaying, latching onto you and hungrily climbing over you. He mumbled incoherent words, his pretty blues turning a bright red, a bloody crimson that made you feel apprehensive, fear and anxiety spiking in your mind despite the pleasurable buzz. You peered down when you felt something nudge your finger-filled cunt, looking at a particular-looking tentacle. It was harder and slick, the tip cylindrical-like with a long shaft and covered in veins, much like the ones on his arm, bulging and throbbing. You were oblivious to its use, confused about the different shape, but once it moved, the leaky head enthusiastically dipping into you, you panicked. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the engorged head of his arm pushing into you, guided by a hand, pumping himself to spread the slick and pre that gathered around his cock. You keened, head thrown back when he bottomed out, the veiny girth of his cock throbbing inside of you. His cock rocked into you, pulling out until his tip lingered, and your labia stretched around his thick rod before he rammed in so suddenly. It rocked you as a whole, your smaller figure jerked back with every hard thrust, your cervix feeling the brutality of his strength and devotion. You screamed, writhing in his restrictive hold, cunt battered by a hard, leaky cock with a flared tip, bulbous and smooth. 

“Scheiße, you’re tight,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, feeling your walls stretch as wide as you could to welcome him despite his size and girth, your pussy becoming wet and sloppy with the amount of slick you produced. You pulsed around him, still sensitive from your last orgasm, clit and nipples swollen and twitching under his tentacles. He could feel everything, jolts sent down his arms followed by a euphoric sensation that ran through his mind, leaving him pussydrunk, mumbling out praises, “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Scheiße – so süß, so nass.”

You felt like you would burst, ploughed open by König’s cock arm, warm wall milking and sucking him deeper, coaxing him to fill you up with him. Your lover’s pace grew frantic, snapping harshly and deeply as if to leave a lasting presence in your innermost part, to mould your pussy into the shape of his cock and his alone, rendering you impossible to be pleasured by the sheer size difference between him and others of his kind. With a few precisely, but sloppy thrusts, he had you gushing around him, back arching - as much as you could with his strong grip - pussy clamping down on him as he fucked you into the soft algae-covered surface. You blacked out, euphoria filling your hazy mind, slick dripping down the sides of your tail and your nerves were set alight with blinding fires, burning through you so strongly. 

König swore lowly, his chest rumbling against yours, his cock throbbed and his arm stuttered, pace growing unsteady as the whole length of his arm pulsed with a load of cum. He gave one last thrust, roughly slamming into your gummy cervix, before a rush of cum shot out of his tip, flooding your womb with hot, white cum. It clung to the wall of your womb like glue, coating your cunt in the same adhesive and warm substance. He groaned, nuzzling his face in your bared neck, falling victim to his wandering mouth, biting and lapping at your shoulder and throat. His whole body shook, laboured breaths kissing your sensitive skin as something travelled through the length of his shaft, small bumps varying in size, from small pearls to big grapes, steadily moving towards the flared head of his cock. 

You sobbed when the first egg struggled against the entrance of your womb, breaking through the firmness of your soft entrance. It pained you, the forced pop into your virginal womb that wasn’t made to take in, but push out. Your cries were shushed by König, his reassuring words mixed with his heavy breathing that did little to dampen the pain he put you through. The first egg dropped into your womb, sticking to the walls, and another quickly joined it, plopping down beside it, weighing heavily by every egg, adding to the heaviness inside of you. 

“You’re doing so well,” he brushed away your tears, his thumb gently cradling your cheek, groaning and grunting at the rising eggs and his flared tip unravelling to latch onto your whole cervix, “Just a few more, ja? I am almost done.”

His “a few more” were more so dozens than anything, stuffing you until you bloated slightly. You were exhausted, limbs as heavy as your stomach did, eyes fluttering through your hazy sight, dancing on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, falling asleep in this moment, you’d wake up from this as if it were a nasty dream, finding yourself in your little cave near the surface of the ocean. Perhaps this was all but a nightmare made up by your anxious and paranoid mind from all the stories you’ve heard from your parents and the elders. You were tired after all, sleeping wouldn’t be so bad to regain all the energy you wasted, and you hoped - that if this was your reality - that König would take care of you for doing this to you, for enrapturing you with all his madness and devotion.

You still missed the sun, the warm rays when you laid beneath it, just over a rock, but it was a far memory, further than you were willing to confess. You’d already grown used to his overbearing presence, his lingering eyes and wandering limbs, keeping one wrapped around your waists, your wrist or on your back, you’d gotten used to ignoring him and his dark eyes, bleeding into your world like the blood that stained the waters when he caught a live fish to feed you. 

He fit you in his schedule, a routine he practised on a daily basis without a fault. You would wake up with a wail, coming all over his tentacle at least twice before he left you alone for the morning. He would go hunting after making sure that you were comfortable on your little perch, returning an hour or two afterwards with enough food for the whole day and a few shiny trinkets to try to appease your sorrowful heart. They were pretty, shimmering and glinting under the bioluminescent light, similar to the pretty pearls and seashells you would collect. Despite his intentions, it only reminded you of a life long gone, one that you unknowingly and willingly gave up when you took his hand that fateful day, condemning you to a life of darkness and solitude. 

Then he’d spend the day with you, caring for your round stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your aching body, gently working the kinks and knots out of you. He provided for you, feeding you, soothing your pains, courting you with gifts and loved you with the entirety of his sickened heart. Your every need was taken care of, your hunger fulfilled, be it shark meat (a rarity for your kind of mermaid), squid or tuna, and your excitement satisfied with his cock, fingers, tentacles or mouth, eager to stuff you full despite your womb being grossly swollen with his progeny. He was fiercely protective, letting you out once in your month-long gestation, giving you the freedom to wander close to the ridge with a long arm wrapped around your waist. He never let you wander too far from him and never without a piece of him attached to you, clinging onto you as if you two were a singular entity —you probably were at this point, his thoughts and words echoing in your mind against your reluctance to accept him. 

“Mein kleiner Schatzi,” he called, laying his head on your shoulder, his hood hanging over you. He forced you on his lap, snuggling up to you as he curled - loomed - over you while he shamelessly let his hands rove over your swollen stomach, feeling the grooves and bumps of his eggs, “You are very round. One more month and we will have little Satansbraten.” [Mischievous child]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @0-ramen-0 @dreamdiaries777 @under-the-dirt @ajadell @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @mushroompasta @skystreamchan @kaelysia @notspiders @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @lilpothoscuttings @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[lost-romantique]

Stolas has always been "Single"...

One thing I've noticed people say that genuinely disturb me is when they think Stolas should learn how to be single...

Guys, Stolas has been "single" his entire fucking life.

On paper, he may have been "married".

But Stolas was married to a partner that treated him like shit, and forced him to live a life constrained from being his gay ass self.

People are treating the relationship he had with Blitz as them being in an actual romantic relationship, but as Blitz stated...

To Blitz, he and Stolas were never in an actual romantic relationship because let's face it, it's true.

Blitz simply operated under the terms that Stolas had set for them in their full moon romps.

Remember guys....

This man is an emotionally-inept dumbass, who automatically assumes the worse. Of course, he's not going to see any of Stolas’s invites as anything other than Stolas just wanting him for his body.

Is it right? No, of course not.

But this is Blitz, and I'm not expecting a man who has been suppressing every single major emotion and traumatic event in his life for 15 years (prior to GF) to pick up any of the hints Stolas was dropping. He's a dumbass.

So yes, Stolas has never been in an actual relationship, and I don't think he needs to learn how to be "single" when he's been single his entire fucking life.

The man doesn't need to learn to be happy alone when he's always been alone!

"You wanna know what I want? I want to know what it's like, to not be alone. I want to be someone's someone. I want to feel wanted. But like, in a romantic way, like I'm standing out in the rain at a train station and someone is shouting: “Harriet! Don’t get on that train, it’s going to London and I cannot be without you!”"

"I just... want someone to care if I stay or go. I want someone to want... me! To want to see me. To hold me. To look at me and think "You're the only one I want!" [sheds tears] "I desire to hold you and talk to you, and never let you feel so...""

So yeah, I really don't think Stolas needs to learn to be happy alone. He knows what it's like to be alone, he's always been alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

And you know what I want?

Maybe I just want, this sad gay 🦉 to give this equally as sad and lonely pan 🦎 another chance...

Because, you know, even though he's an emotionally-inept dumbass and a motherfucker...

He's charismatic and charming...

He's good at fighting...

He's protective...

He knows how to have fun...

He's got the most beautiful smile...

He's hot as fuck...

And I also heard...

He's got a pretty cool family.

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

[rosesnbooks]

Astrology observations #5🖤

🌜I wrote these for fun, based on how i see these placements. i'm not a professional! hope you enjoy these🌛

⭐cancer placements allow themselves to feel their emotions. they may get annoyed by the intensity or the amount of them, but they process them fully, and this makes it easier for them to move on. random thought but writing letters to people they like may be something they do or did as kids haha. they're very romantic

⭐some aries venuses have obsessive tendencies when they have a crush, and they get frustrated a lot if they think they can't/shouldn't pursue them. they enjoy the tension, but they don't want it to last too long because they dislike not being in control, and having feelings for someone leaves them feeling too vulnerable. that's why they try to move on if they can, but it takes work. when they do find someone, they become really clingy but they still need freedom when it suits them

⭐mars in libra avoid conflicts and try to be reasonable about everything, but if they think you crossed a line, you'll see why aries is their sister sign pretty soon. once they tell you off, you'll never see them the same way, so underrestimate them at your cost

⭐having stelliums can be interesting. it for sure puts a lot of emphasis on the influence of that house on your life, and i found that it can be both positive and negative since they face lots of challenges related to their house but also many blessings. those who have stelliums kind of embody multiple characteristics simultaneously

⭐sun in the 11th people glow when they are with their closest friends. they also tend to dream big and care a lot about the world. their friends usually help them in their future goals. they feel a bit different than people in their hometown/country, mostly because they cannot be tied down to a single culture because they enjoy different things, which usually makes them quite open-minded and tolerant. they can be picky about the people they let in super close though

⭐mars in the 6th can procrastinate a lot actually, but they get things done. may get sudden waves of high energy and get things done rapidly and extensively. they expect a lot from themselves regarding their ambitions and aspirations. they try to improve themselves in any way most of the time, but they should also accept their current state if they want to evolve and love themselves. they need to watch out for their moral perfectionism too. it's okay to make mistakes as long as you apologise and strive to change for the better

⭐i've found that virgo mercuries can be really direct, even if they are shy or don't talk much around strangers or acquaintances, they have their moments. super funny too

⭐north node in cancer struggle with accepting their vulnerable side. they hate feeling like things and people can evoke strong emotions in them. they want to be more detached, but those that work on themselves find it very rewarding once they embrace their strong emotions. they can also be really reliable, practical, and thoughtful

⭐fire+water combinations in birth charts-i am sending you a hug. i know exactly how difficult it is to keep all those emotions under check, and that you need a lot of understanding and rest to function. use those emotions and passions well hun, you are strong and capable. you have a lot of empathy and wonder inside of you

⭐capricorn sun/mercury have a dry way of texting. their humor is difficult to read via text and they simply are not fans of texting, and it shows lol

⭐aries mercuries are not always available online and they may come and go when they're online, but they'll answer all of your messages one by one with lots of enthusiasm. they also like to send memes and joke around a lot

⭐virgo mercuries are not fans of texting and they can answer you after a couple of days or so even if they really like you. similarly to aries, they'll make sure they answer everything and they also pay attention to every detail you mention. very sweet really. their humor shines brighter in person

⭐taurus moon are very capable. they may prefer rest over anything else, but their patience and dedication to the things they need to do is really cool. they are calm most of the time so it's nice to be around them, just don't disrespect them and everyone will thrive

⭐taurus venus men can be really possessive. even if you like such behavior, some can go to extremes and try to control how you feel, think, and behave. they have a specific image of an ideal partner and they want you to fulfill it

⭐libra venus tend to care about how they look and present themselves so they put lots of effort into that. they also have standards when it comes to beauty and some expect others to dress and look well, whether they know them or not

⭐women with venus in aquarius-you may be attracted to men who are mysterious and act like they're special. just be careful because there are so many toxic ones out there who want a relationship but not truly, because they don't want to dedicate themselves to you and maybe plan on using you

⭐pisces moon can feel like they're drowning in their own emotions sometimes because they cannot control them easily and they tend to give in. if they like to portray themselves as a martyr these emotions can get out of hand because they let those emotions lead them which influences their mental health and relationships. those who are developed process these emotions and try to figure them out and let them pass. they can learn a lot about themselves and others this way. creative outlets can be of help to process this

⭐leo moon need to watch out for hurting people when their ego is hurt because they can lash out and make lots of damage. take a second to think whether it's worth it or not, since there is no point in trying to "win" in a fight with someone you love

⭐pisces mars can be too forgiving, especially to those they care about. don't let people walk over you dear, no matter who they are. nobody deserves that kind of treatment

thank you for reading!🤍i also offer paid astrology readings, so check out my blog for more info

©rosesnbooks