#i'm reading these books again & now it's everyone's problem

[romanticatheartt]

I have a hot take and it might piss some people off specially the ones who believe Nesta didn't need a redemption arc (???) so please don't read this if you have this mindset

You saving your sister at death bed doesn't have redeeming quality. Because anyone in that room, specially Rhysand, would've jumped to help her without hesitation if they had the power. Nesta herself would've helped even if she hadn't finished her healing journey and was still distancing herself from everyone.

I'm not talking about how in those 12 days she didn't help the IC to find a solution, I'm talking about her seeing her baby sister at death bed. Because she didn't helped Feyre for 5 years and let her put herself in danger because Nesta knew she would survive. But the moment Tam/in took her, Nesta goes after her and searches for her. And this is exactly what happened, Nesta thinking IC would find a solution so she didn't even bother to offer a little help. Or even think about it...

In both situations the moment Nesta sees Feyre in absolute danger and is sure there's a huge chance that she might not make it alive, she makes a move to help/save her. I don't want one single person to come here and tell me it's not her job or responsibility- just shut it... don't embarrass yourself

You know what would've been redeeming?

The moment she realized Feyre might die during the labor, she should've started searching alongside the IC, she was literally working in a library at the time.

She should've talked to them and convinced them to let Feyre know of the danger.

She, talking with her sister, properly apologizing and try to bond with her and mend the bridge that's been broken between them.

Not sucking your trainer's d*ck the moment you find out. Not climbing down 10000 steps because you were so "angry" of the injustice you were facing and tell your sister she's about to die and made it about yourself. Because you wanted to show her that IC doesn't "respect" her as much as they don't respect you. And put her in danger in the process because you knew how the stress might hurt the baby but again you were thinking about your own hurts and pains.

I love Nesta and her book helped me to understand her so much better and realizing how similar we are and how much I share trauma with her. Not my trauma response tho.

I just hate the way sjm wrote her healing journey because she made it about herself lol. She projected her trauma and her experience during her process of healing and wrote it into Nesta's story and never cared how it might look at the end. Now Nesta saving Feyre, her blood sister, sounds more like a favor she gave and give *some* people the opportunity to make what Feyre did for her sisters a chore, a responsibility, something she enjoyed to do because she wanted to hurt herself. (and that's definitely not true) Don't even try to deny I've seen it many many times and I have proof.

And that's my problem with her book. I love that she made friends along the process and had her own found family, it led us to meet two beautiful characters. Her book gave us context of the reason behind some of her actions. We get to read how ashamed and hateful she is toward herself for neglecting Feyre. But the rest? No.

Sjm could've give us Nesta, fixing her relationship with the people around her and making new friendship with her found family at the same time but instead she wrote so many smut scene that has no purpose and doesn't help the plot moving. I'm throwing hot takes after hot takes jeez

In conclusion acosf didn't help people to forgive Nesta. Understand her? Yes. But forgiving her and give them the opportunity to considee her as their favorite character? No. I'm not talking about all but the majority, because as you see even now people can't seem to forgive her even tho they understand her much better.

To be honest acosf is one of the weakest book sjm has ever written and she hasn't wrote one single good book ever since... I wanted to make all these takes in different posts but fuck it, we ball<3

[daisychainsandbowties]

bea - eviscerate + stitch

this dark is everywhere, we said (and called it light)

a percy jackson au

///

Lilith wakes to the latent heat of volcanic glass seeping up through the palms of her hands, lacing along the blade of her cheekbone, drinking down the tears that scatter out of her lashes as she lurches awake, gasping.

She’s lying spreadeagled on hard, garish black rock, glittering with the reflection of enormous stalactites – a ceiling of sharp ends diving down out of the gloom. Her hair, distinguishable only as a more greyish shade of black, is stuck in clumpy patches to the ground and it peels away as Lilith forces her leaden arms to move, pushing away from the ground that always seems like it wants to eat her.

A tremor of white pain travels from her breastbone to the hook of her floating ribs, and she groans as she glances down at blood-sticky rock. It is shiny, glassy like a dead black eye – and Lilith sees her sword lying in the manner of a crooked smile underneath her upraised body. The hilt is shaped like a fishhook, the blade concave near the hilt and pitching out into a broad convex near the tip.

There’s a chain of soft gold running from the hook of the handle to the blade, and it shines strangely in the wet reflective surface of the volcanic stone that runs up to the high walls of hell itself.

Lilith knows, without looking, that there is a very specifically-shaped bruise running from just underneath one of her breasts down the rungs of her ribs, terminating just above her hip. Others too, splashed across her jaw and the socket of her right eye. There is dried blood crusted in her hairline and on her lips, cuts beneath her clothes that have bled into the fabric.

The last thing she remembers is fighting, knee-deep in snow somewhere in the Himalayas. Red spotted in the drifts and an old oil lantern trying vainly to scoop the darkness up off the snow, throwing reflections onto white-capped stone. She was following a fresh trail of blood and gore up a switchback that couldn’t really be described as a path when a great shape came crashing out of the night.

She recalls being swept aside by a massive paw, or maybe a hand, and landing dazed in the snow. Rolling aside just in time to avoid a sharp-seeming downstroke. Might have been claws, or a blade, or a set of enormous teeth. Her lantern rolled away, and Lilith heard the ringing in her ears that announced death. She scrambled to her feet and saw where her light had been tossed away, where it came to rest by a shape lying limp in the snow, surrounded by a halo of blood.

Lilith didn’t need to roll the corpse over – didn’t have time, as snow swirled and a shape stalked her. There, with snow and ice muddling the feeling of stone beneath her feet, she felt powerless. She couldn’t reach out and rend the earth, couldn’t call fire up from the mantle of the planet. Too much interference, too much fear.

There was a crumpled polaroid in the back pocket of her jeans, showing a smiling woman in a puffy green jacket, pretending to blow on her hands for warmth, though she stood next to a bonfire and underneath a clear, starry sky.

There was no need to roll the corpse over because the jacket lay in pieces around the body, rent by claw or blade or teeth, and Lilith felt anger surge up inside her as she tore her sword out of its sheathe and turned in a wary circle, trying to pierce the blizzard with the tip.

But then she heard a flurry of movement behind her and something rammed into her back, tossing her forward and face-first into snow. A phantom voice in her head whispered through the wind as Lilith reached vainly, dizzily, for invisibility, for her god-given power over not being. Coming up, as usual, against the wall of her own scattered focus.

A voice in her head saying, shut the fuck up and fucking Travel, or so help me I’ll come back to life and murder you.

And so she Traveled. Reaching out to gather up the shadows into a soft blanket, into a blade she pressed willingly through her own body, carrying it away from the blood in the snow and the monster in the dark. And there was nothing and no one and nowhere to think of but home, wretched though it is.

Hades.

Lilith stands, dragging the sword with her so that it dangles with the tip almost touching the ground, resting the blade flush against the curve of her boot. It has a soft black glow, down here in such proximity to the waters where Lilith stood, stripped to the waist and running with cold sweat. Where she dipped the fresh-forged blade into the polluted waters of the Styx.

She’s wearing her black aviator jacket, sunglasses sticking out of the pocket, over a somewhat threadbare t-shirt with a weird, shadowy creature on the front. She keeps meaning to Google what it is, but a giant snake ate her phone last month.

And, anyway, there’s no one left to call.

As ever, a pall of ghoulish green light sits over the gateway to the underworld, seeping along the riverbank in both directions. It’s a little like dry ice, but this isn’t a stage or a theatre. It’s just where she lives.

Lilith frowns down at herself, at the spots where her jacket has frayed, where the black leather has cracked or been scraped away by claws, the chill sitting barely above her bones from weeks of sleeping rough up on the surface. The golden chain on her sword settles against her knuckles – a faint, weird warmth – and Lilith lets a small sigh escape from inside her mouth as the greenish mist rolls past her.

There’s something about the mist that feels animate, today. It almost seems to cup her cheek, to flow over her cheekbone like a cold thumb, taking a little heat out of the bruises. Though, there’s a pressure to it – almost a reprimand.

Lilith stares towards the gates and the looming canine shape that sits squarely inside, worrying the inside of her lip. Is it her imagination, the slightly-chiding care that runs through the green light, the cool river mist?

She doesn’t speak to her father – not more than a handful of times in her life. He didn’t save her mother from the bombs or her sister from starvation, and he tucked her away in a dreamless sleep until he had a use for her. So what does she owe him?

Nothing.

Certainly not conversation, or whatever paltry imitation of love he can scrimmage out of his rotten heart. Fuck you, she thinks. There’s no benefit in saying it aloud, but Lilith lifts her middle finger, pointing it towards the mammoth walls, toward Cerberus and the stupid, banal bureaucracy of death.

The ghost in her head chuckles, low, and Lilith feels the golden chain brush her fingers again though there is no wind here to move it.

A wave of dizziness wash over her – a wild urge to lift the hilt of the sword up to her mouth and kiss the chain, but all she does is stand there in the shadow of her father’s kingdom, aching down to the marrow of her bones.

Then, from behind, from down in the direction of the ferry, she hears the scrape of wood over stone. Here, on the parallel shore of the Styx where nothing moves or walks or breathes but Lilith.

She whirls, sweeping her sword around so that she stands – unsteadily – with her body held sidelong in a narrow target, blade parallel with her raised arm, tip pointed towards whatever foul thing has crawled up out of the river.

Then she freezes, blinks, feels all the moisture in her mouth turn coppery and sour, because it’s not a monster.

It’s a girl.

Shorter than Lilith, with a pair of dark eyes pooled above a grim little mouth. Lilith realises – with a sense of disquiet – that she is beautiful. There’s a dust of freckles sitting like an afterthought on her nose, her cheeks, drawing out the dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her mouth is pulled tight, grimacing, but it hardly upsets the softness of her jaw.

She’s wearing a dark blue shirt over what looks like a thermal base layer. It’s cold down here, though it has never truly bothered Lilith. She’s built for it, or just used to it. Despite the extra protection, there is still a faint tremor sweeping through the girl as she stands, black rock glittering underneath her.

It’s easy to see why.

She is drenched in blood, leaning heavily on a spear made of bronze, decorated with tiny winged shapes. Lilith can’t make out what flying creature it is, but she makes a guess. There is, indeed, an owlishness to the girl as she stands, blinking through the gloom at Lilith, making no move to defend herself as blood spills out from where her palm is pressed into her stomach. Lilith can see the pink glisten of unearthed viscera beneath it, can see that her fingers are pressed inside to the knuckles.

A half-blood, then.

Lilith’s fingers tighten around the hilt of her sword. It’s Stygian iron – a substance that can only be forged in the waters of the Styx, capable of absorbing the essence of monsters, ripping them even out of Tartarus. Monsters and mortals and gods fear it, but the girl only blinks down the curve of the sword as Lilith holds it aloft.

Her voice, when it drifts out of her mouth, rolling into the mist, is clipped and precise and soft. All by itself it makes a crack in Lilith’s resolve.

‘You’re the daughter of Hades?’

It is, Lilith thinks, mostly a statement. In her bruises and her battered black clothes, with the life-eating pall of a Stygian sword in her hand, Lilith looks like the bastard child of death.

The stranger is a hazy shadow, cut to the quick by the perpetual drain of this place; the sewer of the Styx washing by with a sound like a hundred thousand muttering voices.

Blood patters softly onto the stone at her feet, but it scarcely has a chance to pool before the stone swallows it. The girl, hair half-unbound around her shoulders, strands falling down around her face to complicate it with shadows, stares at her own boots for an instant, wobbling. Lilith understands what she is feeling; it took weeks for the rock of this place to feel solid, to stop warbling underneath her with the threat of turning to liquid, to blood, to ink.

Lilith has dreamed of the bottom of hell, and this is not it. This is only the threshold.

‘Who’s asking?’ she growls, taking a careful half-step forward. It’s more of a shuffle, really – a habit born from fencing lessons held deep inside the walls of the Underworld, in a garden full of soft fruits and the promise of spring. The place she learned to fight.

The girl straightens, stiffening under Lilith’s scrutiny. There’s a sort of raw-boned intensity to her, like she’s holding herself very precisely in check. Her fingers, too, have tightened around the haft of her spear.

She’s shaking, blood now flowing down to drip from the tip of her elbow where it’s clamped tight against her body. Lilith wonders what it took for Charon to ferry a dying girl across the river.

The tip of her sword is only a foot from the girl’s throat as it bobs, as she raises her chin to expose the bumpy layers of cartilage sitting in a line; the very slight bulge above her windpipe.

There’s no point in asking who sent her. If she’s a half-blood, there’s only one place she could have crawled from.

Softly, again, the girl speaks. Backlit as she is by the green glow on the shore, she carries the countenance of a ghost. Lilith might mistake her for one, if she didn’t know better.

‘My name is Beatrice,’ she says, in a voice like cold water and warm milk, ‘I am a daughter of Athena.’

There’s blood on her lips, Lilith realises, as they pull into a grimace. They shiver as Beatrice pulls her fingers out of the slit in her stomach, holding them out in wry invitation.

It’s utterly bizarre, but Lilith finds herself lowering her sword, leaving it to sit against the leg of her jeans. Beatrice has proffered her right hand, so Lilith is forced to juggle the sword into her left so that she can reach out, tentative, to wrap her fingers into the sticky, blood-stained cup of Beatrice’s hand.

‘Lilith,’ she says. Somehow, it feels like an admission, like giving something away.

The daughter of Athena smiles. Pink-tinted saliva dribbles down her chin. It’s ghastly, but Lilith finds that she is somewhere on the opposite end of disgusted, wherever that might be.

There are, after all, no destinations along the river Styx but one. Death.

Beatrice squeezes her hand. She takes a ragged breath, her dark eyes heavy-lidded and hazy, boring into Lilith’s. ‘Pleasure,’ she says, a little giddily. ‘I thought I would have to go deeper into hell to find you.’

‘Well, here I am.’

A tightening around her hand, not quite a squeeze. ‘Here you are,’ Beatrice says. She lists forward, catches herself, ‘I’m here-‘

She coughs, and the redness of it floats weirdly in the mist. Beatrice stares, shakes her head like she’s trying to banish a ghost.

Her voice is very faint. ‘We need your help… daughter of Hades.’

Then the daughter of Athena, her skin like dark gold even in the bad light of the Underworld, falls forward. It happens slowly, at first, like she’s just taking a step, but then Lilith sees her knees buckle, watches the spear slip through her fingers.

And without thinking she steps forward, capturing Beatrice’s warm body in her arms.

...

Ten minutes later Lilith crouches next to a limp figure she has propped up against the pitted, high stone wall, feeling like a thief as she unbuttons Beatrice’s blue shirt and peels her black base-layer away from the slice in her lower abdomen.

Her sword is on the ground next to her, at a right angle to her body, the hilt in easy reach. Beatrice’s spear is propped up against the wall. It is, indeed, covered in tiny filigreed owls.

Beatrice does not stir as Lilith raises her hand, ignoring the unhappy shiver of the mist against her back as she draws on the power in her blood, summoning up a sliver of bone from a tiny vial of bone dust she keeps tucked inside her boot. It forms in the air, turning from powder to liquid to solid bone in the span of a moment, before settling down into Lilith’s red-painted palm.

It’s not ideal, but she can hardly wash her hands in the river. It’s full of plastic and rot and blood. Instead, she makes do with the little wadge of bandage and thread she keeps in the pocket of her jacket.

Beatrice continues to breathe as Lilith carefully threads her bone needle. There’s a voice in the back of her head spouting stupid facts about the history of needles and sutures, but Lilith hisses at it to shut up before dipping the sharp end of the bone through Beatrice’s flesh. The thread turns red as it passes in and out, but it’s proper surgical suture, so it also tugs the flesh back towards itself. It makes whole.

Distracted by her work, it takes Lilith too long to notice the change in Beatrice’s breathing. She finishes her row of stitches – they’re thick and lumpy and as elegant as she can make them, but there is no ringing in Lilith’s ears to ordain death, so it must be enough.

At a loss for any other implement, Lilith picks up her sword and carefully cuts the thread, leaving a little curl of it to sit against the taut muscle of Beatrice’s stomach. She has, of course, attempted not to notice the ripple of honed, hard muscle that runs the whole length of what necessity has forced Lilith to unearth; the evidence of a life spent fighting.

She has attempted to ignore it.

When Lilith looks up, sword resting on her knees where she’s crouched, balancing effortlessly on her heels, she finds that Beatrice’s eyes are open. Hazy with pain, but alert underneath it all.

A tentative smile flutters across her lips, ‘You saved my life.’

She dumps the sentence at Lilith’s feet like it means something.

Lilith shrugs, ‘I’m a freak, not a monster.’

The freckled skin on Beatrice’s cheeks wrinkles in tandem with her frown, ‘Wh-‘

‘You said you needed my help?’ Lilith interrupts before the question can come out and make everything awkward.

Beatrice’s stomach is still laid bare, covered in fingerprint marks where Lilith has touched her – in every single place Lilith has touched her.

Mercifully, the daughter of Athena lets her question fall away. Her bronze spear shines off of some strange reflection in the volcanic rock.

‘Yes,’ Beatrice says. There’s some depth to the word that Lilith doesn’t look down into, in the same way she doesn’t peer into the waters of the Styx as the ferry glides over it. Some mysteries are not fit for consumption.

‘Alright.’ Lilith nods, ignoring the way that the gold chain on her sword tightens against her hand, like a warm tongue, ‘Tell me what you need.’

[acabspocky]

Yes

[tenrose]

Romantasy is the new bit-lit

[honeyednights]

i love moving, such an easy process<3

[ariaste]

listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled

Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage

come on this journey with me.

ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.

the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something

this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"

all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE

Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis

all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized

[inkskinned]

it's hard to explain because inevitably you sound like an asshole, but some people are allowed to lose their temper, lose their mind - you're not, though.

when your friend never texts you first and misses your birthday and never makes an effort; you don't mind. you know she's struggling, and you want her to get the help that she deserves. you give her every excuse and every chance.

it shouldn't matter to you so much that people are always coming through for her. you want her to be happy, you love it for her. you love that her community rises up to the occasion. why does it bother you that when she snaps at someone, says horrible mean things - but two hours later, everyone is comforting her while she's crying. you know she's stressed. why do you kind of hate that she is welcomed back to her job, that her parents are endlessly wiring her money.

and you're - fuck, are you envious?

but when you don't text back, someone sits you down and says i know you're struggling, but you're being a bad friend. when you're too numb to show up for work, your boss just shakes his head. i'm sorry. i can't approve more time off. we have the company to protect. when you finally snap back at your family for making that shitty comment again, you're forced to apologize for being too sensitive.

god forbid you need something. people aren't used to you being the one asking. you're the giver like the book you hated; your pages all open and rumpled. you always have the answer, always have the solution. you are reliable, trustworthy. people like you don't struggle with things. you're supposed to be lifted by tragedy. you are given a maximum of 24 hours to grieve, and then you need to just behave at the party.

you can't read the giving tree without feeling like crying, and even that feels like it's too much emotion. like, nobody looks at you and assumes you're the tree; they'd name five other people before even considering you in the running. you're just there, never-asking.

your friend gets to say mean shit, that's just her personality. when you make a snide comment, you're just being petty. people laugh when your friend stands you up for another event; they say she's just like that. you were 5 minutes late to a meeting with friends and they were mad about it for the rest of the evening. your friend sets everything on fire; everyone applauds her through the ashes. you so much as light a candle: and suddenly now you're an arsonist.

you don't want your friend to suffer, though. the thing is that you just wish that the empathy and kindness your friend gets - you wish you had that option, that everyone offered you grace and money and a gentle reception.

the other day you were fighting down the bad urge; the void call, the end note. you tried-anyway. you went to the family event, tried laughing at the right moments. nodded and smiled and all of it. one of your siblings threw a fit, but she's allowed to, so everyone just rolled their eyes about it. you took 3 whole minutes to stand outside when you got overwhelmed. you literally set a timer about it.

in the morning you woke up to a text from your parents: you were a complete disgrace last night. idk what your attitude problem is, but you really need to fix it.

[estellan0vella]

Shut Up, Mom! ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Toji & Sukuna (REQUESTED) Masterlist

You stand firm in the kitchen, arms crossed, after denying your child's request for more sweets. Gojo lounges casually nearby, a faint smile playing on his lips. Your little one, clearly frustrated, looks up at you and blurts out, "Shut up, Mom!"

The air grows tense instantly. Gojo's blue eyes narrow, the usually playful glint gone in a flash. He straightens, walking over to kneel beside your child, his expression serious yet calm. "Hey, we don't talk to Mom like that," he says, his voice low but firm. He gently cups your child's cheek, his touch a blend of sternness and care. "Mom loves you and makes rules to keep you from getting sick. Apologize to her."

Your child glances between you and Gojo, recognizing the gravity in his usually lighthearted father's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom," they mumble, looking down.

Gojo's smile returns, a bit softer now. He ruffles their hair. "Good. Now, how about we find something else fun to do together?" 

In the living room, you're putting away toys when your child whines for more TV time. When you deny the request, they stomp their foot and shout, "Shut up, Mom!"

Geto, who has been quietly reading on the couch, lowers his book, his usually calm demeanor shifting to one of quiet authority. He stands, approaching your child with a measured stride. "We don't speak to Mom like that," he says softly, yet his voice carries a weight that demands respect. He kneels to meet their eye level. "Why did you say that?"

Your child looks guilty, fidgeting under Geto's steady gaze. "I was mad."

Geto nods, his expression softening slightly. "I understand being mad, but words have power. Use them to express your feelings, not to hurt others. Apologize to Mom."

With a small nod, your child turns to you. "Sorry, Mom."

Geto smiles, patting their shoulder. "Good. Now, let's find a way to enjoy the rest of our day without TV."

You're in the study, helping your child with their homework when they throw down their pencil in frustration. "Shut up, Mom!" they snap when you suggest they redo a wrong answer.

Nanami, who had just walked in with a cup of tea for you, freezes. His jaw tightens, and he places the cup on the desk with deliberate calmness. He steps over, placing a hand on your child's shoulder. "We do not speak to Mom that way," he says, his tone firm but not loud. "She is here to help you."

Your child looks up at him, eyes wide. "But it's hard!"

Nanami nods, his expression softening but remaining serious. "I know it's hard, but being disrespectful doesn't make it easier. Apologize to Mom and let's try again together."

Your child sighs, looking down. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Nanami gives you a small, reassuring smile before turning back to your child. "Good. Now, let's tackle this problem together, step by step."

In the middle of a family game night, you deny your child an extra turn, trying to teach fairness. They scowl and shout, "Shut up, Mom!"

Choso, who has been arranging the next round of pieces, looks up sharply. His eyes, usually so gentle, darken with concern. He sets the pieces down and moves closer, crouching beside your child. "That's not how we talk to Mom," he says, his voice calm but with an edge of disappointment. "Mom is being fair."

Your child pouts, crossing their arms. "It's not fair!"

Choso sighs, placing a hand on their small shoulder. "Life isn't always fair, but respect is important. Apologize to Mom and let's continue our game with kindness."

Your child hesitates, then mumbles, "Sorry, Mom."

Choso smiles softly, nodding. "Thank you. Now, let's see if we can make the game more fun for everyone."

During a meal, you tell your child they can't have dessert until they finish their vegetables. They glare at you and shout, "Shut up, Mom!"

Sukuna, who has been eating quietly, pauses mid-bite. His eyes flash dangerously, and he slowly puts down his utensils. Rising from his seat, he moves with a predatory grace to stand beside your child. "What did you just say?" he asks, his voice low and menacing.

Your child shrinks back, suddenly aware of the gravity of their outburst. "I... I said shut up..."

Sukuna leans down, his presence overwhelming. "You will not speak to your mother that way," he growls. "She deserves your respect. Apologize. Now."

Trembling, your child looks up at you. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Sukuna straightens, his intense gaze still fixed on them. "Good. Now, eat your vegetables. Or I eat your toes"

"Ryo!"

You deny your child's request to stay up late, and they respond with a defiant, "Shut up, Mom!"

Toji, who has been leaning against the doorframe, straightens immediately. His expression hardens, and he walks over, his steps heavy with purpose. Kneeling down, he looks your child directly in the eye, his voice a low rumble. "We don't talk to Mom like that. Ever."

Your child squirms under his intense gaze. "But I want to stay up!"

Toji shakes his head, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That doesn't matter. Respect is non-negotiable. Apologize to Mom right now."

Your child glances at you, then back at Toji, clearly chastened. "Sorry, Mom."

Toji's expression softens slightly, and he ruffles their hair. "Good. Now let's get ready for bed. No arguments."

[doremimosasol]

𝐓𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive but nothing too much

word count: 1,5 k

summary: in the desperation of a better grade for potions you find the perfect solution: Theodore Nott

@thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge prompt 1

Potions class — you dreaded that class for the whole week just for it to be the last class on Friday. It's not that you just hated it, you absolutely despised it. Never passing any assignment, constant ridiculous remarks of Snape, the chills of the cold dungeon… You even began to wonder whether Professor Snape was the problem and not you. Everyone passed this class except for you, while you were the one who tried your utmost best.

You were beyond frustration, right now there was only despair left. As someone who scored top in almost every single class, a fail for potions was heavy on the heart. There was no denying it, you spent sleepless nights in hopes of improvement. Nothing, all hard work once again for nothing.

The Slytherins always scored top-class. Was it because they were good, or were they just favored? Snape couldn't possibly fail his precious Slytherins, of course not.

It was a rough week, the middle of winter, and now to top it off some more freezing in the cold dungeons for goddamn potions. How you wish you could just speed up time during these moments, to watch the minutes on the clock pass by faster.

You sat bored behind your desk, resting your head on your palm as you listened to the constant rattling of the teacher. Something about a new assignment. Why even try when you knew he'd fail you again like always? "... and it will be performed as pairs. Choose your partner wisely, no switching after today.”

Pairs? At the sound of that, you instantly lifted your head to find the familiar face of none other than Theodore Nott. It seemed as if his friends had already formed pairs and he was left standing, alone. He didn't look all too offended, just waiting for someone to approach him.

This was your chance. Finally, a chance to up your grades. Theodore Nott was the solution to your failing mark.

Without even thinking, you sprang up from your seat and approached him. You gave him a small poke in the side of his arm, his eyes looking up at you. You never noticed how mesmerizing his eyes were until right at this moment, it caught you off guard slightly. "Mind if we work together?"

He slightly frowned at your question, you two never spoke so this was honestly surprising to him. He looked around to see everyone partnered up already "Seems I'm left with no choice but to choose you." His brows were playfully arched as he looked back up at you.

Polyjuice potion. It wasn't an easy assignment, something that'd take weeks to brew. Which also meant weeks of working together. Snape explained that they didn't need to be strong, just for a minute; changing into the other.

"Make polyjuice potion." It was the only instruction that you got. Forced to find the recipe yourself, the ingredients, and a place to brew too. It was far from easy but at least you were smart enough to find a talented partner.

Theo had everything planned out; he made a schedule and found a place to brew. It was his own dorm but it was perfect, it was a large room and surprisingly cozy.

To your surprise, he used a lot of candles in his room. A lot of books lay scattered around too, from all different kinds. You often tried to read the titles, something Italian, while he made fun of your pronunciation. He corrected you, little did he know that was your goal: to hear him speak that lovely Italian language.

It was late at night when both of you decided to go look for some Lacewing flies in the woods. You didn't add enough in the beginning, which could mess up the ultimate potion.

"You know y/n, you aren't that bad after all. I can't deny I dreaded working with you, wondering why the hell you chose me as your partner. But you surprised me, in a good way." He looked down at you while you were next to him, looking around for some flies.

"Well, to be honest, I just wanted a good grade. That's why I chose you. You could say..." You thought for a moment before softly chuckling "…I used you to my advantage?" When you looked back up at him, he didn't seem all surprised.

"Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

Huh? What was he even saying? In love? With Theodore Nott? No way.

Looking back on the past few weeks, you looked back on the feeling you got around him. The feeling you're having right now.

Like you can't breathe but feel like you're breathing better than ever before.

Like there's a whole storm going on inside your stomach.

The soft touches he gave you these last few weeks; touching your wrist, the small of your back, patting your head when you were doing something right.

The way your heart made a little jump when he said your name or when he called you princess. The little praises he gave once in a while.

Reflecting on those weeks, your heart almost dropped. Could it be that you were in love? Was that love? Was he in love with you? Why did he even ask that? He must be in love with you, right? No...?

"Ah, I hit right bullseye. I knew it! You are in love with me, isn't that right?" It startled you when you suddenly hit his hard chest. He must've just spawned in front of you or something. It was when you looked up that you noticed the look in his eyes.

You saw something flicker in his eyes when you didn't respond to that question he asked. Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say something he already covered it with his. A kiss?

A kiss?!

No response from your side, just eyes wide open and stiff like a statue. He tried to get some sort of reaction out of you by cupping your face with both of his hands but nothing at all. No reaction, just a deer in headlights.

"Come on y/n, try that again. I like a bit of enthusiasm." He pouted in a joking manner.

He pulled your face closer, caressing your cheeks with both of his thumbs before moving lower until one of them reached your top lip. He caressed the cupid bow before moving to your lower lip, slowly dragging it downwards. "I want you to kiss me back with those precious lips, princess. Please?"

He moved his lips closer, his breath fanning yours like a soft breeze in summer. "For those good grades, I'll be giving you, mhmm?"

You pulled back and now it was your turn to mess with him. "Well I don't see those good grades yet, do I? Guess I'll have to wait for some proof to kiss you back." You noticed some Lacewing flies a few steps ahead and approached them. "Let's go catch those flies for those good grades, shall we?"

He was dumbfounded. How could you have been so flustered some seconds ago to turn into such a tease now? But he would get you good grades, just for that kiss...

...and for that smile that now covered your face when Professor Snape announced the top grades. "Theodore Nott and y/n y/l/n."

He bumped your shoulder slightly at the announcement and whispered in your ear. "Guess who's getting a kiss tonight? Can't wait to taste those sweet lips of yours, princess. Have been craving them all week.”

And man did you both kiss... Hands in your hair, pushed against the wall of his dorm while working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled away with a grin on his face. "A little eager now, are we?"

It took you by surprise when your feet left the ground and your back hit the mattress less than a second later. There was no time to respond before he had already crawled on top of you, his tongue devouring your mouth. You didn't even notice him pulling off your shirt and unclipping your bra until you felt his warm lips touching the middle of your chest.

His lips inched lower, leaving a wet trail in the middle of your chest. The warm touch sent shivers down your spine, this was new and you liked it. You liked him.

It felt like heaven. Being touched like this, being worshipped like this, you felt beautiful underneath the touch of his hands. This man knew what he was doing and there was no stopping him... It’s not like you wanted him to stop either, you wanted this to never end.

He looked up through his eyelashes with those piercing eyes, while sucking on your lower belly. "Do I have permission to show you heaven?"

And to heaven and back he brought you...

[theosemma]

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

credits for idea: this fic was highly inspired by @colablue 's fic "theodore nott meeting you headcanons."

word counting: 779

notes: it is so fluffy oml. theo is being an adorable little love strucked puppy!! :) also, this is my first fanfic ever so don't judge hahaha. just enjoy reading it and please leave a like if you enjoyed!

after a week of adjusting to hogwarts, classes start going again. professors were making seating plans, talking about everyone's summer, or going straight into the syllabus for this year.

it was your third period of the day, charms. and you saw your best friend walking in, you waved and signaled that she could sit next to you. before she could though, theodore nott took her seat instead. your friend looked confused, but you were even confuser. you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed an apology. she just gave an empathetic smile, knowing your problems with the slytherin boy.

at the start of your education at hogwarts, you always felt like you did something to upset theodore. he looked at you with those cold, scary-looking eyes and it made you very nervous. even your friends notice his starings and they only confirm your suspicions: theodore despices you.

your best friend took a seat a few tables away from you, and professor flitwick started his lesson. your eyes kept shooting glances at theo. he was now looking to his book in front of him, but it didn't look like he was actually reading. his knee was shaking what made you kinda of feel bad for him, but you were also trying to figure out why he even chose to sit next to you.

you kept wondering if he was finally going to confront you or at least tell you what you did to wrong him. but no, complete silence from the boy. you did feel his eyes on you from time to time like he was observing you, or maybe he was making a plan on how to kill you, because that's what it looked like to you.

the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson. the professor said something about an assignment but his voice was overpowered by students packing up their bags and chairs scratching the wooden floor. "theodore, wait-" but when you looked up, he was already out of the door. "why is he so fast?" you mumbled then threw your stuff in your bag and rushed after him.

"theodore!" you yelled after him and this time theo actually heard. he turned around slowly, his cold gaze fixated on you. he didn't say anything, that seemed his thing, but he did show that he was listening. you took a deep breath and spoke softly, "did i do anything to upset you? you keep looking at me like you're angry at me. because if i did upset you, i'm so sorry!" you were talking very fast and theo blinked to process what you were sayinh. after an awkward silence, he said with a smile on his face, "you haven't done anything wrong." his voice sounded hoarse from but also very soft and soothing in some way. before you could say or ask anything else, he walked up to you and took your books out of your hands. he then started walking away, leaving you confused.

he turned around when he realized you weren't following him. he looked at you and nodded his head, signaling to follow him. you sighed and caught up with him. you looked up at him and then at your shoes, trying to suppress a smile.

theo saw your smile and didn't say anything, but he did smirk. his posture changed, conveying his newfound confidence now that he had made you smile. he walked with you to your next class without saying a word. you didn't say anything either, the silence was kinda peaceful, not at all awkward.

theo stopped once you had arrived at your next class. he tilted his head and examined your face intently. "you're intriguing, you know that? there's something about you..." he trailed off, contemplating the best way to express his feelings and thoughts. you took him out of his haze by taking your books from his hands, slightly touching his hand accidentally. you were smiling up at him and slightly blushing when you said, "thank you for walking with me. but i suggest you hurry to your own class... i don't want you to be late." theo chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "see you, theodore." you wanted to turn away but he spoke up yet again, "it's theo." you turned back and nodded, "alright... then, see you theo." he smiled and gave you one last look before leaving for his own class.

you watched him walk away before going inside of your class. you took a seat far in the back where you thought about your encounter with theo. so he didn't hate you.... he was intrigued by you. and to be fair, it made you blush all over again.

[probablybadrpgideas]

THINGS I AM UNREASONABLY ANNOYED ABOUT BY GAME SYSTEM

D&D: Please put a disclaimer that you are not a universal system. Every time I see someone try to do a political mystery game in D&D, I take 3d10 psychic damage and have to make a death saving throw.

Pathfinder: Look. If i wanted to play a game about fighting Cthulhu there is an extremely famous game specifically designed around doing that. Literally no-one is ever going to say "Wow, I want to play a Cthulhu themed game! Time to stat up a musical halfling from a magical fantasy land!".

Chronicles Of Darkness: Just admit no-one uses any of your rules. You have Social Door Rules and Integrity Conditions and Corruption Levels and I bet at most 50% of COD players could tell me which of those I made up. Just admit people aren't dressing up as Alucard The Bringer Of Shadows because they want to sit down and do calculus.

World Of Darkness: You know that old guy who's still doing his job even though he is way too old to do it any more, but he's now an institution so you can't get rid of him? Like that. The 90s called and they want literally everything about this back.

Call Of Cthulhu: I appreciate the commitment to authenticity, but maybe stop hiring actual disgraced mental asylum directors from the 1920s to design your sanity system?

GURPS: Look. Look. Listen. We both know that you just want to write history textbooks. These are history textbooks with a few stat blocks begrudgingly put in. If you just give me a book on early Chinese history I will read it and go "ah, very interesting!". You don't need to put in a list of character choices. We're all nerds. We'll read them. Live your best life.

Powered By The Apocalypse: I actually can't think of anything wrong with PBTA. That's not a bit, this is literally the perfect system. Take notes everyone else.

Mutants and Masterminds/Heroes System: Your systems have probably the most customizable character creation in the world and you both just make reskins of the Justice League over and over again. Maybe we only need one "thinly veiled copyrighted characters" setting? You can fight over it once you decipher your combat mechanics.

FATE: Ok I won't lie, I have no idea how the fuck FATE works. I have read the rules repeatedly and played three games and I still have no idea what invoking an aspect means. I don't know why. I grasped the rules of fucking Nobilis but this one just psychologically eludes me. This is more a problem with me I guess, but I'm still annoyed.

Warhammer 40k: Have you considered spending less on avocado toast? Then you might be able to afford to charge less for things?

Exalted: Apart from the lore, the setting, the mechanics, the metaplot, the character creation and the dodgy narrative implications, I can't think of anything to improve here.

[meangirls-imagines]

Revenge of the Nerds (but like, hotter)

WARNINGS: none really. y/n kicks shane oman's ass. regina is kinda turned on. regina takes care of reader.

BASED ON THIS REQUEST: @droppedmyhotpocket: For your requests, unless you already have some, you could do Regina with a shy reader that ends up like beating someone up for talking bad abt Gina ☺️ honestly I would do it too like no lie

Okay.

Let's start from the beginning.

Y/N Y/L/N and Regina George have been dating practically since seventh grade. The news broke when Jason Weems told the entire school that he saw Regina and Y/N making out by the softball fields.

Regina embraced it, making a show out of kissing Y/N in front of everyone at lunch. From that point on, everyone knew not to mess with Y/N, or they would face Regina's wrath.

Well, almost everyone.

Enter Shane Oman.

Quarterback of the football team. Hottest guy in school. (According to him).

For the longest time, he had pined over Regina. Years even. He was one of the only ones in school that had a problem with Regina and Y/N being a couple. He believed it should've been him.

Y/N wasn't fit for Regina in his eyes. She was a nerd, she didn't talk to anyone but the Plastics. He just didn't get it.

Him and Regina would make the perfect prom king and queen in his eyes and he would do anything to make it happen.

He could never get close to Y/N due to Regina and the plastics always being around her, so he needed to plan. There was only one instance where Y/N was alone, right before lunch. That's when he was going to execute his plan: plant insecurities, make them break up, win Regina.

He had no idea of the shit storm that was about to happen.

Y/N was stood near the entrance to the cafeteria, looking down at her textbook. She was reading an excerpt out of her history book when it was knocked out of her hands.

She sighed and looked up to find Shane Oman standing smugly in front of her. "Can I help you with something Shane?" He scoffed. "Yeah, actually. Stay away from Regina. She doesn't want you." It was Y/N's turn to scoff. "Shane, you come at me with this same argument every week, dude. Let it go."

She reached down to grab her history book but it was kicked away by Shane. "Your guard dog isn't around to help you, nerd. You’re in my territory now." Y/N sighed, standing up straight again. "For the last time, Regina isn't my guard dog." She could feel the rage beginning to boil over.

Shane smirked. "Oh. My bad. She's actually your bitch."

What happened next shocked not only Shane, but the group of students that had gathered to watch the exchange.

Y/N cocked her arm back and swung as hard as she could, clocking Shane in the eye, knocking him on the ground. She proceeded to take advantage of Shane being stunned and began to wildly swing on the boy.

He shook himself out of it and began to fight back, landing a few good (really good) hits on Y/N. Coach Carr happened to be walking down the hall when he saw the commotion. He immediately pushed through the group of students, effectively breaking thought up, dragging the two to Principal Duvall.

Regina George was on a mission. Her combat boots smacking against the vinyl floor of the hallway as she stomped her way to Principal Duvall's office. His secretary opened her mouth to scold the blonde but quickly shut up at her glare.

She barged into the office, startling all three in the room. Her rage increased at the sight of her sweet, teddy bear of a girlfriend nursing a bloody face and a forming black eye. "What did Shane do?" Principal Duvall spoke up. "Ms. George, this doesn't concern you." Regina gave the man her famous ice bitch glare which shut him up.

She softened at the sight of her girlfriend. "What did Shane do?" Shane spoke up. "That bitch needs to be on a leash Regina! She's crazy!" The blonde whipped around, getting in the boy's face.

"The next words that come out of your mouth better be "I'm sorry for ruining your perfect face Y/N" or you will be receiving your meals through a fucking tube for the rest of your pathetic life. Do you understand me?" Shane nodded rapidly, shutting his mouth and remaining silent.

Regina smirked and faced back to Y/N. "What did he do baby?" Her tone was noticeably softer than before. Y/N went through the whole story, explaining how Shane insulted Regina and pushed her over the edge.

Regina took a deep breath and looked at the principal. "So how long is Shane suspended for?" Mr. Duvall stuttered. "Well, Regina. You have to understand, Y/N swung first." The blonde glared. "Shane called me an inappropriate name and shoved my girlfriend. It was self defense."

Duvall stuttered again. Regina held a hand up. "I would hate for my father, who puts a good chunk of his salary into this school, to get word that the principal is allowing LGBTQ+ students to get assaulted for being who they are." She smiled that devilish smile, making Mr. Duvall swallow nervously.

Shane got suspended for a whole week while Y/N just got sent home for the day. Luckily for her, Regina decided to skip and take Y/N to her house. Y/N's parents were notorious for always traveling for work so they were never home. Because of this, Y/N was usually at the George household.

After Regina had treated Y/N's injuries, (and kissed every single one), the couple snuggled up on Regina's huge bed, watching Love Island. Regina was the big spoon tonight, adamantly saying that cuddles will heal Y/N faster.

After a few episodes, Regina noticed that Y/N was fast asleep on her chest. She smiled, setting an alarm for Y/N to take more painkillers before falling asleep herself, dreaming of Shane Oman.....

Getting eaten by lions.

[lillysilvermoon]

What your Future Spouse will admire about you?

Pile 1

Your reading is SO BEAUTIFUL Pile 1, really😭😭

First of all: you have a very feminine energy (high priestess) which is like kryptonite for man🤣😁. You see, the hight priestess have a profound connection with God/Goddess. She believes everyone has their own inner guidance to lead them to their true potential. And you do this! You trust your intuition, follow your heart and your instincts and this makes your s.p just go crazy, I feel like he is very logical and he admires your away of leadership, in your own away (doesn't matter if you realize this or not) you are a leader, you inspire people without even realizing it. With you, he feels healed, you just bring so much peace, calmness and joy to him. And talking about joy: you have a childlike personality, you inner child is very happy and free, you know when it's time to be silly (happy dance) and he admires this in you, you bring his child side and makes he feels comfortable to play and just be silly with you. I feel like my heart will explode of joy right now so I think that's how he feels with you, and this makes he admire you a lot because at the same time you are a very elegant, femine and wise, very responsible you ALSO are fun to be with, you know how to play and you have this magic to him. (He loves you so very much I just can't 😭💗).

And you are confident, I feel you have the mindset of "what is mine will find me" so if something goes wrong you just drive to overcome the obstacle in a positive way. When you have a goals, you work with very fierce energy to bring them to fruition (but the thing is: you do all fo this in a very feminine, gentle and fun way, and he just admires you incredible for this).

Signs: jupiters placements, Gemini, cancer and aries and number's 6,9,5 and 8 (I think cancer's placements are important because cancer's symbol looks like a 69 and you had this two numbers. Cam also be dates or months), books, library, education, parks, lakes and flowers. (And music!!!!!! Omg I think it's important to youu or them, maybe he'll communicate his feelings by songs)

P.S: I was going to pile two but I just heard this: you help them to heal his inner child in some way, and this is something very very important to them and by extension to y'all relationship.

P.S²: I was again going to Pile two- but here it is: he admires you for that because, I feel like this problem with his inner child maybe has affected in a negative way his others relationships and you, somehow, handle this really easy, you don't even realize actually (and I just saw he looking to any place in particular think about this and feeling genuinely happy)

Blonde and redhead for some feel here.

Pile 2

Finally I'm here, hello pile 2♡ let's get into your reading shall we?

Calmness. You are so calm, even in the worst situations, you maintain a sense of peace (or try your best to!). I see here that you have multiple interests and you try to balance all of them and other areas of your life, but you don't stress yourself with this. It's like, if doesn't work it's fine, cause you are adaptable and flexible (and he REALLY admires this because I feel like your future Spouse has a tiny-bit-tittie problem with control (wink nod) and you are kind of the opposite lmao, he see you having all this interests and priorities but... it's not a obligation like "omg I HAVE to do ALL" no. You want to do all, but it's okay if don't work some days, he admires you organization and the way you management your time and schedule. I feel your s.p like calm and stable people, he doesn't like unnecessary drama in his life and you just have this flow, if something doesn't work you just be flexible and this is important too: you think before make decisions! 100% not reactive, you think and go inwards before choosing anything. And you have a introspective side that he just loves too much.

I feel like you are someone who brings them peace love and very good advices when needed (after all no one likes be with someone who just complains, fight for every minimal thing, always need to be right to feel "respected" etc, he admires the peace bring with you.) I feel he deals with a lot of stress in his work place and when he sees you... it's too good, like a oasis.

Signs: poems, tea, wind place, scorpio, leo, sagittarius, venus, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune placements are important, numbers 7, 11 and 12 (can be days, months or house in astrology; 7 represents love and commercial partnerships and our relation with public, 11 it's ruled by Saturn and Uranus (definitely a lot of air sign) and talks about flow, strong thinking and important of expansion and 12 it's the house of our unconscious, fears, dreams and spirituality)

Pile 3

I feel like you give a lot of importance to material possessions, you don't act like "Oh money isn't important blablabla" you know money is important, you work to have a good life, to you things like good education, good house in a great neighborhood, travel to have fun but to also acquire culture and knowledge, good clothes with quality. This are important too you (is giving me old money mindset vibes and if you don't know about it, and I'm NOT talking about the "old money" from Tiktok - I highly recommend the "The Old Money Book: Living better while spending less" to you, it's very short has 158 pages) but you don't live FOR money, the money is your servant not your master!

He admires how you always seem to have a behavior like "this is only temporary and shall pass soon" when something bad or uncomfortable happens, and he really admires this. You have a very outgoing personality, full of energy and optimism (and you have some kind of sex appeal but in a elegant way), you are not afraid to work to have the things you desire, your energy is very positive and uplifting (I feel like your future Spouse enjoys SO MUCH talk to you, he loves to see you so determined to get the things you want and he has this feeling that you two will evolve and grow together.

Also: you are a generous soul, with money and with your time, love and affection and wisdom. Maybe you are into some charity, you are very loving and loyal and this... big turn on to them, I think it's honestly the thing he admires most about you, your personality, your values. You like a rare jewel to them.

Signs: VERY strong water placements, pisces, scorpio and cancer, moon, sun and Mars placements (makes so much sense because mars rules goals) numbers 6, 5, 4 and 8 (can be days, months or house. 6 its concrete and practical knowledge, it's also associated to cleanse, maintenance, work capacity and routine service's (again: makes so much sense, you guys value quality and take care of what you have so last longer, don't have need to buy new things), 5 it's you creative side, what gives you pleasure, 4 it's what we have most profound in us and 8 transition of life and things, ending of cycles).

Hope y'all like this reading, it's my first reading related to love and I'm so happy, I had so much fun doing this and hope you guys too. See you in the next reading.

Xoxo

- Lia

[miris-secret-files]

Arrange married life with Itachi.

"Don't ever kiss me again" "I can kiss you anytime I want bc you are my wife"

Maybe there would be a situation where they had to show that they were a happy couple

You don't have to make him look rough but I'm kind of bored seeing him all sweet and all the time and the point is he has started to like yn that's why maybe he would say that?!?

Arranged Married Life || Itachi Uchiha x fem!reader

A/n : I really didn't want to write it at first because it sounded very non con, like it resonnated weirdly in me. And then I thought about it, I couldn't back down from a challenge, besides it would be a good opportunity for characters to yell at each other ahaha so here it is ! Hopefully you who sent me this request you'll find it

A/n 2 : Hey CONSENT is everything ! Even if this fic may seem a little ambiguous I don't think Itachi would ever act like this. Remeber this is only a fiction before coming at me

Warnings : arranged marriage, yelling, mean stuff, Itachi is going to hurt you ( I'll do my best for that 😂 ) because he knows you're lying, forced kiss kinda, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1025

“Don’t ever kiss me again !” you screamed, voice echoing through the Uchiha residence. You residence since-

“I can kiss you anytime I want ! You’re my wife !” his voice boomed in a way little have ever heard. -since you’ve married him, since they had forced you to marry him

Things weren’t supposed to turn this way, not now that he started having feelings for you. But it was precisely for this reason that things turned this way. Everything was so much easier 6 months ago when you two met for the first time, well the day you got married. The day both your families agreed on this arranged marriage, supposed to bring the Uchiha lineage with the second secret mightiest lineage of Konohagakure.

At this time, there weren’t any problems about keeping the act outside your shared home. Everyone was completely oblivious, no one had a single doubt that the marriage had been arranged and that it was not for love and that neither you nor Itachi had particularly wanted to end up bound with the other.

No one suspected the reality of the situation any more, the meals eaten alone or in dead silence, the evenings spent reading a book, sometimes in two different rooms, even in the early nights when cushions separated your side of the bed. Far from the image of the perfect couple the whole village envied.

And that's only because in public you hold the act together like the best of actors, holding hands, fingers intertwined, or else by the arm, your head resting against his shoulder, him breathing in the sweet scent of your hair. Whispering sweet nothing into each other's ears, exchanging loving glances and discreet giggles.

That’s exactly what happened yesterday, during a gathering of the Uchiha family ( not all Uchihas knew about the arranged marriage ), the act was perfect, but maybe a little too perfect. Because as you got back to your residence - still in the act before the door was safely closed - his arm was supposed to lighten from around you and let you go do your own stuff like you’ve been used to, but to your surprise it tightened instead. When you looked at him you saw his face getting closer to yours.

You froze in place, he leaned closer and then you felt it. His lips oh so delicately pressed against yours. And then the instant of a second your hands came on his chest before pushing him with as much strength away from you as far as possible. He’s never kissed you on the lips before. Of course even when acting all lovey dovey in front of the others this was never something you had ever done, because being part of the Uchiha family required a certain public restraint. Even at your wedding he has only kissed your forehead.

Things leading to another you ended up both yelling at each other, your voices echoing in the hall. And upon hearing him calling your his wife you couldn't help but shout back “And I never wanted to be ! This !” you screamed gesturing at the walls and stuff around you “Is the fruit of an arranged marriage ! To which I did not even consent !” you added.

Your words made his jaw tighten, his hand shot to your arm which he gripped ( his aim isn’t ot hurt you just making sure you don’t leave while he speaks what is on his heart, this sounds fucked up though ) eyes boring in yours as he looked at your from above “Do not pretend you don’t like it ! Don't like to be mine”

“I don’t ! I wish they didn’t choose y-” your eyes held his gaze, not impressed at all by his outburst. You tried to shake your arm out of his grip but without success

Your words went straight to stabbing his heart prompting him to change his tone in consequence “Then act like you meant it by first stopping hanging on to me for dear life in the street every time someone you don't know comes near you. As if I’d ever protect you if something were to happen” this was pure venom you triggered.

“I hate you with every cell of my being !” you spat with anger, because you knew he was right, after all this time of living together you started to see him as a kind of protector.

“You wish you could” he gazed dangerously at you, the Sharingan in his eyes activating as his voice dropped back to a less loud tone, a testament of the upper hand he knew he had at the moment “But truth is you like it here in the Uchiha neighborhood, in my residence and in my bed every night. Don’t play coy, I know when you scoot closer to me during the night”

You blushed furiously with a mix of embarrassment and anger at his revelation “I’ve never done anything of the sort !” you tried to lie, but it didn't have any effect.

“You’ve done it every night lately. Did you think I would not notice ? Me ? Your own husband” he used another word refering to your marriage, his face getting closer to yours again, but way more slower now.

You didn’t budge, the conversation seemed to sink it, you knew he was right, you did need him sometimes. Not only his feelings were evolving, but yours too, and if he was reacting this way it was because things started to matter in a way it didn’t before. And you wouldn’t have outbursts like this if what he told you wasn't common knowledge for you too. Of course he would be the first to notice you started caring, even before you.

His lips pressed gently against your again, his grip of your arm lightening, leaving a coldness there you didn’t think it would. This time you didn’t try to push him away “I’ve let you do that every single night without saying a single word” he marked a pause as if he was looking for his words “We’re married and your lips are mine. From now on I won’t shy away from claiming them the way I should”

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

jolene part 3

you guys the love for this series (which wasn't even meant to be a series!) is insane!!! tysm to everyone who has read it! tags for people who wanted a part 3: @girllety @simping4-2manyppl @penny-exe @hisparentsgallerryy @superxovas

"it's done. it's over." your voice interrupted remus from his book, after hearing your voice he looked up to see you. you looked.. dishevelled? and quite out of breath. that was probably because you had sprinted to the library as fast as you could, as you knew remus would be there.

ever since the night of the party, you had felt closer to remus. like he understood how you felt, more than james could for sure.

"you what?" remus responded. he was hoping you meant that you and james were done, but he scanned your face, and there were no signs of sadness, so surely you couldn't have meant that?

"me and james?" you said, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"WHAT?!" remus shouted, a bit too loudly, resulting in madame pince sending a dirty look your way. you were.. done? is it bad that his day had suddenly got better?

"yeah." you sigh, and take the seat beside him. you itched your chair close to him, probably so you didn't get kicked out of the library for speaking too loud. the closeness of the two of you, however, made remus' breath hitch.

"merlin.. are you.. are you okay?" he asked you, more quietly.

"i mean.. i suppose. i'm sad because i loved him but i was the one to break up with him.."

"you broke up with him?" remus interrupted, eyes widened.

"why is that such a surprise to you?" you teased.

"it's not it's not, sorry, carry on." he said frantically, a bit flustered.

"i told him.. that it was obvious that his heart wasn't with me.. and i didn't want to be in a relationship with someone like that." you recount.

"what did he say?" remus asked, he knew that he would probably get whatever james' perspective was later that night.

"he denied it, the tosser. we all know it's true. i even told him i wouldn't be mad about it!" you shake your head.

"i would be mad about it." remus said.

"yeah i would've been, but i wasn't going to tell him that." you chuckle.

"fair enough." he smiles at your laughter.

"then i.. i think i did something stupid.. i told him it'd be okay if he liked lily." you mutter.

"y/n, why on earth did you do that?" remus looked at you, exasperated.

"because!" you put your hands up, defensively. "i just.. i don't know, i'd feel better about it if we both moved on."

both moved on. both moved on. both. what did you mean by that? were you ready to move on? no surely, you couldn't be. if james moved on, would you? no no. wait. lily was one of your close friends, by giving james permission to like her, then maybe.. james would let him date you? a million thoughts ran through his head at once.

"well.." remus finally speaks, clearing his throat. "you're too nice for your own good."

for some reason, you felt your cheeks heat up. what was wrong with you? you broke up with your boyfriend a mere fifteen minutes ago, and now you were blushing at his best friend's compliments.

"thanks remus." you smile cheekily at him.

"it's alright, are you staying?" he asks you, almost hopeful.

"sorry remus, i can't, got a detention for "harassing malfoy"." you pull a face.

"i'll see you around though, thanks for always listening." you place a hand on his arm.

"it's uh n-no problem." he smiles, nervously.

"see you later!" remus watches you turn and leave, a small smile on his face.

~

it had been a couple of months since you had broken up with james, and you were at peace with it. although awkward at first, the two of you hesitantly became friends again.

at this moment in time however, your awkward friendship with james was the least of your worries. your favourite author had released a new book, and you were dying to buy it at hogsmeade.

the issue was.. literally no one could go with you.

"sorry y/n, i can't, quidditch training."

"sorry y/n, i'm studying."

"sorry y/n, i promised dorcas i would help her revise for the potions exam!"

the excuses were all too convenient. that left you with only on option left. not that you were complaining though, you had grown quite fond of the increase in time you were spending with remus. so much so, lily had accused you of fancying him again! something you had denied, with flustered cheeks. it did make you think though.

"remus?" you approached him in the common room, he was with sirius. james and peter were in a detention.. or something.

"y/n" he smiled at your presence.

"would you uhh.. want to go to hogsmeade with me?" you asked.

"oooooo" sirius teased, nudging remus.

"no- no not like that, i need to buy a new book.. and i don't want to go alone i just thought-"

"yeah, i'll go." he smiles at you.

"great, meet me here at 1pm tomorrow." you scurry off, feeling your cheeks burning.

oh my godric. you had a sneaky suspicion you were beginning to have a crush on remus.

"ugh lily!!" you faceplanted your bed, your head in your pillow, that night.

"i think you were right."

"of course, what about?" she smiles, teasingly.

"remus." you said, your voice muffled.

"what was that?" she asked.

"don't make me repeat it." you groan.

"no you can say it again!" she smiles.

"remus. i think i like him." you sigh.

"you're acting like that's a bad thing! remus is great." lily sits on your bed, where you were having your crisis.

"it's not.. he's james' best friend!" you groan.

"oh y/n.. that doesn't matter. james won't mind, your friends, aren't you? and you've been nice to him and gave him permission to date me. no idea why because it's never gonna happen! but still, he''ll understand." she reassures you.

"i don't know.." you trail off.

"y/n.. i think it's obvious remus likes you." lily pats your back.

"WHAT?!" your head shoots up.

"it's quite obvious isn't it.. whenever you're around he always has a massive smile on his face." she smiles at you.

you smile at her.

"I swear to godric if you're wrong-"

"I'm not. now tomorrow you need to get ready for your little hogsmeade date and-"

"it's not a date.. and.. how did you know about that??" you look at her, bewildered.

"i know everything." she winks at you, and you have a sneaky suspicion that tomorrow she was definitely not studying like she had said.

"fineeee you're the best though lily" you smile.

"you flatter me" she smiles back at you and you chuckle.

~

you admitted to yourself the next day you were nervous. you didn't even know why.. you were only buying a book. but still you had gone out the way to put extra effort into you hair, something that didn't go unnoticed by your dorm-mates.

"you look nice y/n, dressing to impress?" marlene teases you, as you made your way down to the common room.

"impress? who would i be impressing?" you playfully roll your eyes, and speed off, before anything else about the matter was said, to meet remus. he was sat, reading.

"remus?" you approached him; "you ready to go?"

"yes." he smiles at you, and gets up, following you out the castle.

"would you rather we walk or take the carriage?" he asks.

"walking would be nice." you respond.

he nods and you begin walking to hogsmeade, engaging in conversation.

eventually, you had arrived at hogsmeade. the bookshop was called "tomes and scrolls."

"would you like me to.. uh come in with you?" remus asks, blushing slightly.

"yes, thank you." you feel your face heat up.

he follows you into the shop, watching you pick up the book you so desperately wanted.

"i'll pay for it, if you want." he smiles at you.

"you don't have to." you splutter.

"but i want to y/n." his own confidence caught himself off guard.

"i insist you don't.. but maybe you could buy me a butterbeer instead?" you smile.

"like as in a date?" remus's breath hitched. you probably didn't mean it like that. why did he say that out loud? he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"like a date." you nodded, your cheeks burning.

"that'd be.. that'd be good. not good. brilliant." remus stumbled over his words.

"y/n.. i.. like you. alot." he mutters.

"you do? really?" you look at him.

"of course." he says, avoiding eye contact.

"oh remus, i like you too." you respond, smiling.

remus was caught off guard. he had finally got what he had wanted, after all this time.

you.

and he was happy. very. and so were you, by the looks of your smiling face.

[johnsuhsposts]

the quiet boy has a big dick?! ★top post★

parkjisung x fem!reader (e) for explicit

-

Park Jisung.

The quiet boy that nobody spoke to. The boy who sat alone during lunch reading the same book that he had been reading for the past few weeks now, or so you noticed. The boy who sat in the back of the classroom, looking as if he wasn't listening to anything the professor said, yet scored perfectly on every single test that he took.

Park never spoke to anyone and when someone would speak to him; on a rare occasion, he would simply nod. Jisung was simple, wearing only neutral colored clothing throughout the week and on Fridays he would wear flannels. It seemed as though you were the only one to pick up on these little details.

How he'd ruffle his hair or adjust his glasses when they'd slide too far down his nose bridge. To say the least, you thought he was kinda cute apart from the popular jocks of the school that everyone was obsessed with, (Taeyong, Jeno, Jaemin, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Haechan). Maybe you just preferred men who were more to themselves.

But what you didn't know, was that Jisung actually had the biggest secret that nobody knew about, and you were about to find out about it because he was standing outside of your dorm's door with textbooks in his hands.

- Present

"Jisung, I don't understand this." You groan, putting your head down onto the little table in the middle of your room. Jisung chuckles quietly, tapping the top of your head.

You look up at him to see his plump lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but nothing would come out. It took you a minute to see him pointing at the notes you took which clearly had the answers on it.

You smile keenly, remembering that you hadn't offered him any refreshments at all. Suddenly, you pop up off the floor, startling the poor boy. "Jisung, I'm so sorry. Would you like something to drink?" You say standing in the doorway.

Jisung nods, "Water." He simply says. Shivers fall down your spine. 'Holy shit, his voice.' You think to yourself, going to make the drinks.

-

Upon studying together for almost an hour, you somehow ended up laying on Jisung's lap. How? I guess we'll never know. His face is still stuffed in his book and your eyes are halfway open, listening to the soft sounds of him flipping the pages.

The quiet rain outside fills the void and you're close to falling asleep, shifting your position to lay sideways; head still on his lap. You feel Jisung tense up when you move indicating that you had startled him again.

"Sorry about that. I've really gotta stop startling you like that." You say tiredly. Jisung doesn't reply. Now that you think about it, neither of you have really spoken much since he asked for the water; yet somehow there's tension between you both.

Hesitantly, Jisung's hand comes into contact with your hair; stroking it gently. You scooted up higher on his lap, feeling him become even more tense. For a moment, you're thinking, 'Why is he so tense?' but then you realize why. You were laying directly on his crotch.

Biting your lip, you purposefully continue to move against Jisung, listening to his soft groans of pleasure. You looked up at him only to see that his eyes were closed and his head was thrown back. He's so damn hot.

You then sit up, but this time, Jisung isn't as startled as he was before. His aura is different now. Even you could tell. His eyes have become dark and his breath was labored.

He suddenly sits up, pulling his shirt over his head before knee-walking over to you. His body is a lot more toned than you thought it'd be. He sucks in a breath before speaking, "You made this a problem. Fix it."

Without anymore words from him, you dove down and pulled his pants to the floor. You could see his bulge; his grey briefs dirtied with pre come. You bit your lip, not really expecting much from a small fry like him- but as soon as you shucked his underwear down his thighs, you were taken aback.

It was huge. Thick and veiny, it had a good girth, not to mention the veins that seemed to pulse and throb with the sudden gust of cool air. You reach for it. It's soft and firm. Carefully, you begin to glide your hand up and down his shaft, looking at him while doing so. He bites his bottom lip, trying to suppress his moans.

Seeing his current state, you take this as an opportunity to go in for the kill. Your tongue makes the first move, swirling saliva all over the tip. Jisung finally moans audibly, spurring you on.

You take the whole thing into your mouth. Incredible. It was so big that you needed both hands to stroke the rest. You push further, attempting to deep throat him and he continues to occasionally jolt; making you even wetter than you were when he first showed up.

"Fuck babe.." he says, his eyes going all goo goo at you. For a second you pause. He does too. Slapping a hand over his mouth, Jisung's eyes widen. "Oh god, I'm so sorry- I didn't mean-"

You shut him up with a kiss. Jisung takes a second to register what you were doing but eventually follows your lead. He kisses back, his cock now pressed against you as you both stand on your knees making out with each other.

Carefully, you guide one of his hands down to your clothed cunt. You then pull away from him and he gently begins to rub you through your panties. "Please, Jisung," you whine. "Touch me."

He doesn't need to be told twice as he pulls your panties down, staring at the trail of slick that followed behind. "You're so wet.." he mutters. His voice is so goddamn hot.

There's no movement. For a minute, you almost think he's turned off, but what he did completely shocked you. Jisung grabbed you, threw you on the bed, and he stood over you.

He then grabbed the both of your legs and put them on his shoulders. You stare up at him, wondering what he was about to do.

Jisung's skin is warm. So warm. His strong arms secured your thighs as he rubbed the tip against your entrance. But before he could slide it inside, you stopped him.

He looked at you confused. "I was just wondering if you could.. you know.." You feel embarrassed asking him to do that, but eventually he catches on; his ears becoming red.

He grins shyly, agreeing to do it. Jisung sits down on his knees again, pulling you toward him. His head was in between your legs and you could feel his breath ghosting over your arousal. You silently wait.

Then, he licks one clean stripe from the bottom of your folds, all the way up to your clit. You gasp, trying to get used to the feeling of his lips being wrapped around the sensitive bud, licking and sucking as if it were his last meal.

Your hands interlace into his hair and you notice his glasses sliding down his face. With a small smile you reach for them, putting them on yourself. 'These aren't even prescription!' You think to yourself.

Jisung takes his thumb and rubs you off as he stands up. You then take off the glasses and when you see him for the first time without the hideous frames, you want to cream.

His eyes were so beautiful without the glasses, not to mention his nose. It was so enticing. You couldn't believe he was hiding his handsomeness like this.

"You like what you see?" He teases, pulling you close to him. You're unable to speak as he laughs at you, lining himself up with your slimy entrance. He then pushes inside and you grab his forearm.

"Does it hurt?" He asks you. You shake your head, pulling your thighs closer to your chest. Jisung smiles at you, lifting up your shirt to reveal your bra. He pulls it down, freeing your tits.

He bites his lip as he stares at them, beginning to move inside of you. He's slow from the start, gradually building speed as time goes on. It makes your back arch off the bed, your grip on his forearm tightening.

"Fuck Jisung," you say in between moans. "Yes.. give it to me.. Jisung, please..." Your neediness ignites something in him that causes him to fuck you just a bit rougher. You swear you can feel him in your gut.

His pounding is relentless, not once faltering. Your climax is slowly but surely approaching with each thrust. Jisung watches as your body slowly shakes with every swift movement from him. He holds onto your hips, throwing his head back.

"You feel so fucking good.." he moans, slowing down just a little bit. Jisung's hair has become disheveled but he still looks so hot. His thumb then suddenly comes into contact with your clit as he continues to fuck you just the way you've been wanting it. Hard and rough.

He leans down to plant kisses against your neck, still moving in and out of you with nothing but pure adrenaline. You say his name, placing a hand on his chest to get him to slow down; indicating that you were close but he just grabs your hand and says, "C'mon baby, keep going.. almost there.."

Your eyes roll back as he stands back up, going three times as hard as he had been going before. It makes your thighs tremble once you finally come, squirting all over him. He groans at the sight, still thrusting in and out of you.

Your boobs keep bouncing in front of him and your entire body feels so hot. You begin to tremble from the oversensitivity, beginning to moan and cry at the same time.

He shushes you. "I know baby, I know."

You bite your lip harshly, eyes screwing shut while listening to the squelching sounds. "I'm so fucking close.." Jisung says, causing your eyes to shoot open. You look down, seeing his cock furiously going in and out of you; covered in slick.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." Jisung says breathily, his hips growing weak. You whimper beneath him, covering your face with a nearby pillow.

He's going slow but hard, hitting that one spot with every precise thrust.

You then clench around him, and he stops abruptly. "J-Jisung, wait-!" You say, flipping the pillow off of yourself. You catch him off guard as he halts to a stop, beginning to pump you full of his cum. With a throaty groan of relief, his hands find comfort in gripping your hips; hissing and breathing in sharply.

He smacks your thigh, causing you to yelp.

Your heart drops. Suddenly, you feel a bit sick. There's so much of it; but it feels so good. It's so warm. You can feel your knees going weak as your eyes roll back. You accept your defeat, settling comfortably on your bed as you savor the feeling of him throbbing inside you.

As soon as he pulls out, there's a wet squelch and you can feel his cum dripping out of you. Your first cream pie. You then look up at him. He smiles lazily down at you. You smile back at him, finally being able to relax your legs.

He lays next to you, pulling your shirt down.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you toward his shirtless body. "I enjoyed that." he whispered, resting his head on your boobs. You hum, playing in his hair. "I did too, but do you know something?"

Jisung lifts his head up to furrow his eyebrows at you, curious. "Is there something that I should know?" You widen your eyes at him to try and hint as to what you were about to say.

He sits there confused and you sigh. "Condoms Jisung. We didn't use one, and you came inside."

His whole body freezes. "Holy shit."

-

a/n: HEYYYY, i'm so sorry for the long break. please expect more to come in the next few days. i have a bunch of drafts that i'll be posting soon! <333 mwah mwah

tags at the bottom!

(original work. please do NOT copy.)

- EXTRA CUZ I HAD ANOTHER IDEA

Jisung stands behind you, buried deep inside your cunt. He holds your chin as he fucks you deeply and you moan with greed. Your thighs tremble because you can feel yourself dripping thanks to him. He's too good.

"Look at yourself and see how pretty you are," he huffs, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You could barely stand from him being so deep inside your pussy. The thought alone had your nails raking down the dresser-top. Jisung then sighs an irritable sigh, his hand wrapping around your neck.

He then slides his hand up towards your chin, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. His palm was right over the lump in your throat, narrowing your oxygen. Your moans came out as broken cries.

When your eyes finally open to look in the mirror, tears begin to brim once you see how pathetic you look.

You had drool coming down your chin, some of it getting onto Jisung's hand; tears were flowing heavily from your eyes at this point as he continued to rock your world, and your body. Oh my god. Your body was so small compared to his, your back curved into a perfect C as he reached forward to rub your clit.

The knot in your stomach gets tighter as he suddenly whispers into your ear, "Look at how much of a slut you are." Unable to take it anymore, you drop your head.

You can hear Jisung chuckling behind you, massaging one of your nipples in between his fingers. You hitch in a breath.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good."