#door to hell itself

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

I'm so curious about that random ass door... Like... IT's just there... Never blocked... Taunting...

lmao

The door is just a pretty way to hide the entrance to the crawlspace.

[vaguely-concerned]

It's really interesting that Wynne actually has quite a measured, bordering on downright sympathetic response to hearing what Jowan did in the prologue -- if the mage Warden says "I still can't believe Jowan was that stupid", her answer is something like a thoughtful "Stupid, or desperate, or merely curious?". She seems to think of Jowan as a kid who got in over his head, rather than any less charitable interpretation. I do believe she genuinely is as against blood magic as she publicly expresses and as the Circle party line demands, but as a private person she clearly has a more nuanced and potentially kinder understanding of the reasons why someone might resort to it, at the very least.

(related: when she says that part about Irving telling her what happened, there's no dialogue option in the first stage of the conversation (except choosing the 'leaving the conversation' one) that doesn't net you +2 approval! no matter how the warden feels about it, she is ready to recieve it. I think that says something sweet about how Wynne conceptualizes younger mages and the honest real affection she has for them. if you didn't snitch on jowan and say you stand by that decision, though? +3 approval, apparently! what Wynne says and what Wynne thinks is not always the same thing indeed, her idea of where personal loyalty and integrity stands vis-a-vis a mage's responsibility to the circle may be more flexible than she'd have people believe, you'll be surprised to learn lol)

I have always liked wynne and found her interesting, in all her hypocrisies and her earnest care, but with slightly older eyes she's extra fascinating to me in the same ways that Iron Bull is -- seeing someone whose mind has had hollows carved out in it by the need for double-think and compartmentalization imposed by the oppressive systems and ideologies they live under, and the quiet fight of the self to still preserve vital parts of itself that the system deems unacceptable in the hidden backstage areas of the soul, as it were. (and for both of them part of that self is love and protectiveness of specific other people, beyond what their 'role' dictates is acceptable for them.) I think Wynne has managed to sneak more of her internal self through the meatgrinder relatively intact than Bull overall, but it's the same logic underlying it, for me, and it makes me feel such intense affection and compassion for them both to see how hard they try

[neonhellscape]

new rt everyone shes a freak whos pretty sure shes been been given the role of rogue trader as an act of divine intervention to eventually replace the godemperor and bring new glory to the imperium which she thinks is dull and stagnant. dont worry about why she keeps marazhai caged in her trophy room like he's bait its not important and completely irrelevant to the fact ive joke nicknamed her simon thresh. has anyone noticed a lot of slaaneshi demons during warp jumps lately

[emdotcom]

Hater shit incoming:

Yeah, Indigo Park is really cool, but it blew its load a bit too early by immediately killing off the cool stalker enemy from ch.1. The effect of the bird mimicing phrases is really neat, but you don't get to hear her do it much, especially because the warbling effect + loud af chase music drowns out what is being said, which sucks! Those voice lines are good!!

[kate-apologist]

.

[allthatdivides2]

every night i ask myself. do i watch a horror movie or do i play minecraft. and the decision is impossible every time

[joyful-soul-collector]

With the way my cat is desperately trying to get inside the bathroom he must think I've come in here to fucking die

[rxttenfish]

tbh i think if you dont write the merkingdom as the most fucked up horrifying place in every conceivable way, enough to inspire shudders and distant stares and a creeping sense of dread every time its mentioned, you aren’t writing it correctly

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[almadelsur]

💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone. 

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau. 

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart. 

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you. 

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned. 

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know. 

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken. 

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning. 

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under. 

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj. 

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.” 

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

 3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

[maxrspeaks]

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband in the Zenin clan, would really not regard you as his wife initially, even later on he would have a hard time wrapping his head around the whole idea of it.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband would make two beds/futons on two extreme ends of your shared bedroom in the clan estate, would not even turn in your direction as he sleeps, and would slip out of the door, quietly, at the very break of dawn.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who would let you latch onto his arm at a family gathering where everyone in the clan has gathered into the large banquet hall, but only because he sees it as a formal necessity.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who would intentionally keep you away from the old geezers and Naoya, at the said gatherings because he knows how deeply condescending they are towards women, even their own kin.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who doesn’t really care about this marriage but doesn’t really care about the idea of being with another woman outside of it either. Like moss on the base of trees, he remains unmoving and unbothered in this specific field.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who is actually taken aback when you tell him he can do whatever he wants outside of this marriage as long as he keeps it under the wraps. Because this leads him to believe you’re doing something of the sort.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who is so baffled by his own envy and rage over the mere notion of his wife partaking in an act of infidelity that he has to begrudgingly retreat to a spare bedroom at the end of everyday because he cannot fathom what he’ll do if he looks at you.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who is finally forced to face you after almost two weeks due to unforeseeable circumstances and he almost retches at the bitterness scorching the back of his throat.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who finally decides to confront you so he closes the bedroom door behind him and walks forward, grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who doesn’t miss the slight widening of your eyes and the warmth of your face and the glitter of your eyes, and he hopes, hopes that despite everything, you choose him. He is willing to put this behind, to forgive and forget, because god his wife is so beautiful, he would do anything to have you love him, or atleast try to.

Toji Zenin as your arranged husband, who approaches the topic directly without any hesitation, because what is the point of beating around the bush when the truth is already there in his face.

“Have you been with other men?”

And he hates, he hates the way your eyes widen because it is a clear indication of something that he refuses to accept.

“What?”

He understands. Toji really does understand. Why would you or anyone for that matter, be willing to openly confess about something as such.

“Ya heard me.”

He doesn’t miss the way your brows furrow, and he anticipates violence and anger and everything red, with the way your mouth presses itself into a thin line and your forehead creases in thought. He is already convincing himself of a life where he has to live with the burden of knowing, yet forgiving.

“What exactly gave you the idea?”

Now this irks him. Toji wishes you would just be out with it, hell, he already knows, he’s convincing his poor heart of a future where you can still try to love him despite all this, so why would you drag this on any longer than you need to?

“You told me I could do whatever I wanted outside of this marriage.”

“And that led you to believe that I was doing the same?”

Toji frowns. He likes the way your eyes soften and the corners of your mouth quirk up, your lower lip tuck itself under your upper one, despite the fact that it all seems to be mocking, he likes it. But he is still confused so he simply frowns, and luckily for him, you seem to catch onto his reasoning real quick.

You free your hand from his hold and step closer to him, torsos touching, before you get on your tippy toes and loop your arms around his neck. Toji bends down to accommodate you in this position, it all seems to new, so soft to him that he is momentarily taken aback.

“You thought I was cheating.” You state, there’s no offence in your tone, but simple mirth that glimmers in your eyes and reaches down to your upturned mouth.

“Is that why you’ve been sleeping in a different room because you thought I was compromising this marriage?”

And Toji frowns deeper, like a kicked puppy. His arms hang stiffly by his side and he wishes he could loop them around your waist.

“Toji.” You whisper, leaning in to brush your nose against his.

Your smile disappears, his breath mingles with yours and both your and his eyes flicker down, then up.

“I haven’t. I would never.” You say.

And you hold back your tongue from admitting the fact that your offer was a half hearted, unwilling one, that the days he slept away from you, you would curl in your bed and cradle your aching heart and chest.

“Yeah?” Toji whispers back. He is breathless now. He feels like a large boulder has been lifted off his chest, so now he can finally breathe, like a man submerged underwater, he laps at the surface, gasping for air, desperate.

“I have a husband.”

And it sets off a fuse in him.

He snakes his big arms around your waist, and pulls you closer until the warmth of your bodies becomes a shared one, and then he’s leaning down, eyes half lidded and drunk on love, love that he didn’t realise he was nurturing, with intent.

But you stop him, with a hesitant hand to his chest.

“Have you?……been with other women?”

And Toji doesn’t like how small you sound all of a sudden, how your sparkly eyes look at him with hesitance, and fear, of knowing something you couldn’t stomach. He doesn’t like how you visibly shrink in his arms.

“Why would I? I have a wife.” He says with a cheeky grin before leaning down and taking your mouth into his.

Toji Zenin as your husband who sleeps with you nestled in his arms that night. And stays unmoving hours after waking up, basking in your warmth.

[joelsdagger]

only then, i am good || one shot

joel miller x f!reader

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for fic updates!

pairing: daddy jackson!joel x f!reader summary: you have a bad day in which it makes you question your worth. only joel can make you see the truth. warnings: jackson era [well into the tlou2 timeline but nothing bad happens], implied age gap [i warn you, joel is old old], angst [in the form of internal turmoil], feelings of guilt/burdening, established relationship, dd/lg dynamics, soft daddy dom!joel, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, finger sucking, pet names galore [baby, sweetheart, little girl, angel] size kink, reader is hella needy, reader has pubic hair bc i said so, smidgen of cockwarming, just the tip mention, dubcon*, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, nipple play, belly bulge, creampie, joel is reader’s personal weighted blanket, fluff, aftercare. *reader is not in the right headspace to properly consent to piv but she’s a-okay with it! word count: 3.8k

a/n: i’ve been to emotional (and physical) hell and back (are we back? who knows) these last few weeks and it had me yearning for daddy jackson!joel. so this is what this is. it’s a tad different from my typical style of writing and it’s not betaed and very very loosely proofread (barely looked thru it while in the waiting room lol), so it’s probably shit but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless xx

You should’ve double-checked the lock. Triple-checked it. As always. Hand to God, it slipped your mind. You were tired. Achy and sleepy, and you just wanted to go home. Back to Joel. Curl your spent body into the thick, burly warmth of his and let him cradle you until the whole day wipes itself from memory. 

You’ve been asking them for more responsibilities — a more serious role within Jackson, for months. After today, you’re sure they’ll never take you seriously. Never see you as one of them. They’re so much older and wiser — experienced. And you…well, you are not.

They never fuck up. Never make mistakes that would risk losing an important asset to this safe haven. And today you have. You fucked up. You don’t know how you forgot. It’s been your only job here, the only thing they let you have, and still — you messed it up. 

You forgot to lock the stall door to the stable for one of the horses. And not only did the horse escape but now the town is technically down one patrolman. You have completely thrown off the patrolling schedule, one that was meticulously crafted and has been in place long before you arrived in Jackson. It very rarely changed. 

You offered to lend a hand, practically begged them to send you out with the rest of the search party. But Maria, Tommy, and Joel all told you to go home while they sent a group (of which included Joel and Tommy themselves) outside the gates, well past dusk, to go looking for him. You felt entirely useless.

Begrudgingly, you scurried home, a beaten puppy in need of licking one’s wounds. Feeling the weight of the day and the frustration that has accumulated over months suddenly seeping into your bones, and you just…broke. You crawled into bed, alone in the dark, and you cried for hours, your mind spiraled, turning over the mistake you made, again and again and again. 

When it stops and the wracking sobs slow into shuddery hiccups, it’s only because you hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. Slow. Tired. But steady — sure. And that nauseating sensation in the pit of your stomach returns as the footsteps grow closer and closer. 

The door creaks open slowly, pale yellow light from the hallway spills through the crack, your puffy eyes squint and flutter against the sudden light, shape of him vague in your blurry vision, but you know it’s him: tall frame, broad shoulders, pale skin, and dark features.  

Joel. 

You curl your body tighter, making yourself as small as possible. Close your eyes, and bury your tear-stained face back into the damp royal blue of his linens, the piney scent of him everywhere: his pillows, his sheets, his mattress, clouding your mind. You hear his footsteps as he rounds the bed, feel him reach over and switch on the lamp beside you. He grunts, his joints creak as you feel his weight sinking the edge of the bed, settling himself down in the ‘c’ shape your body had formed.

“We found him. Fella was out by Hidden Pines,” voice soft, almost cautious. 

You nod silently, but you don’t look at him, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more, not wanting him to see how pathetic you look after spending hours upon hours sobbing into the pillows over a mistake you made.  

A heavy hand cups your knee over the sheets, thumb stroking bone through the fabric there. 

“It wasn’t your fault, baby.” He says, surely.

But you don’t really believe him. 

You sniffle and tilt your face away from the tear-soaked pillows just enough so he can hear you. “Yes, it was. I was the last one in there. It’s my job to take the horses back and settle them in for the night. My job to make sure they stay in the stables. It’s been my job, my only job all this time, and I can’t even do that right,” you ramble, voice breaking, bottom lip wobbling, fat tears pricking your red eyes once again. 

“No. You listen here,” he says sternly, feeling his body turn beside you, bed covers bunching up around your knees. “You did lock it, but the latch was loose, honey. Tommy and I tried ‘em. They’re due for a fixin’ n’ we should’ve been checkin’ ‘em, but that’s my job, not yours. This wasn’t on you, darlin’. You hear me?”

You avoid his eye and stay furled on the bed. Silence swells between you, and you fiddle with a stray thread in his sheets.

“He wasn’t supposed to take off like that, but he’s a younger horse,” he shrugs, and a sigh falls from his lips. “It happens. Whoever was mannin’ the wall tonight should’ve seen him. Many things were at play, baby. It wasn’t your fault.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Your head snaps over your shoulder in a fury. “I could’ve helped fix it. I could’ve made it right,” you bite, shaky voice laced with venom. You don’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but it manages to stifle the sob that threatens to claw up your throat. And for a second, the irritation in your voice doesn’t rattle you until you notice Joel’s shoulders tense, and you regret it immediately. 

A whirlpool of emotions swirls in your belly. A weird noise squeaks out from your lips as you try to fruitlessly blink away the sleep and salt in your eyes. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You bury your face into the pillow again, trying to muffle the sob-like groan as you cringe away from Joel, ashamed. 

His hand drifts up your thigh, broad palm splayed across your flesh, his touch unwavering. “Sweetheart, the only reason I told you to stay here s’because it ain’t safe out there. The amount of infected may be less this time o’year but the cold…” He trails off, his grip tightening around the meat of your thigh unconsciously, “makes people meaner,” his voice grows unsteady at the thought. 

You shiver, and you suspect he feels it. He clears his throat, and tender fingers brush the strands of hair out of your face, then they trail down, and you feel the cold roughness of his skin against the warm softness of yours as his calloused hand cups your jaw, tilting it to face him, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

Your eyes pinch shut, and the dam breaks. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart sits heavy in your chest, feeling the guilt creeping back in at his touch. His hands, usually warm, are now icy cold, and all you can think about is how you are the cause of it. He had been out in the cold longer than he needed to be because of you. You and he both know his worn bones can’t handle it, and yet, he went out there in the dead of winter as nightfall cloaked over Jackson to right your wrong, and it makes you feel terrible. 

“Baby. Look at me,” he whispers softly.

You do, and through bleary eyes you meet his weary gaze. His lips are downturned into a frown, and with a twist in his brows, that worry line in the middle of his forehead materializes. You hate being the cause of it. Your heart plops to your stomach, your throat goes thick, something rising at the base of it. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he implores, his voice stern but soft, eyes shifting back and forth between yours — dark amber irises so warm, pleading.  

Teach me to be good. “Just you, daddy – just need you,” you blubber, your voice innocent and small. Weak. 

He knows exactly what you mean. You have been together long enough that he reads you like an open book. You watch as he wordlessly toes off his boots with a thud. Watch as he moves to stand to unbuckle his belt, dropping it to the floor with a soft clink, his jeans, jacket, and flannel following shortly after. Watch as he shifts onto the bed, bones crackling as he lowers himself and presses his broad form into you, his knees popping as they coax yours open. Watch as one of his hands drifts south between your bodies to grip the thick root of his cock while the other bunches up your nightgown to your navel, revealing your unobstructed cunt to him.  

You whimper when the leaky head of his cock notches at the already slippery entrance of your cunt. He glides the wide cockhead between your folds, up and down, up and down, while the warmth of his breath fans across your face when his lips part to murmur, just the tip tonight, baby, s’not a good idea for you to take all o’me right now, alright? 

You nod numbly. You don’t care how much he gives you — you just need to feel him. Need him to fix you. Need him to make the hurt you feel inside go away. Need him to search for the good. Maybe it’s there, buried deep in a place only he can find. 

His hands find yours, pins them firmly above your head, and with his dark gaze holding yours, he very gently pushes his tip inside your tight, wet hole. His mouth pops open in a deep groan, and you catch it with a soft gasp of your own. 

“There you go. S’that feel better, pretty baby?” He murmurs, his jaw ticks, brows twitch.  

You nod desperately, your wide, glassy eyes going hooded. Your thighs tense around him, causing a little more of his cock to push inside, making you whimper and squirm beneath him.  

“Good. Now just listen to my voice. Just focus on me, right here,” he grunts haggardly, voice so low and commanding. And that alone makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You try to focus all your energy on his voice and the heavy weight of him on top of you and the fat tip of his cock stretching your too little hole open, but suddenly, he pulls out, and you almost whine at his absence.

But Joel doesn’t give you enough time. 

Your body moves up the bed with a jolt, gasping when his hips push forward with more force, filling your cunt with the head of his cock, and then some more, only to slip out of you again immediately after. He’s toying with you, and he’s doing so because he knows you really need this. 

He slips his cockhead gently back inside you, and you whine at the soft squelch your slicken pussy makes. The two of you revel in the lewd, wet sounds that ricochet through the room, all while never breaking eye contact. 

“My little girl just needed me to fuck all the bad thoughts away, hm?” he breathes, his nose brushes against yours.

“Mmhm,” you sigh, cunt flittering around him. 

“Needed me to stretch out her sweet little hole and make everything better, s’that it?” 

You nod frantically, moaning breathlessly. 

Joel growls. “Say yes, daddy,” he commands you softly, his fingers squeezing yours.

“Y—ye—yes, d–daddy.” Your words come out broken in between the slow rolls of his hips, but by the smirk that tugs on his lips, you know he’s proud of you anyway. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his touch featherlight as his fingers push the stray strands of hair away from your forehead, and the scruff of his chin tickles your nose as he lays an open-mouthed kiss between your furrowed brows.  

“But daddy—” you start to protest, scrunching your nose. 

Joel harrumphs as he pulls back. All of his features pull into a stern look, and to stop you, the pad of his roughened thumb sweeps across your cheek and sinks between your parted lips. 

“Na-uh. No fightin’ with daddy,” he presses gently. 

By instinct, your lips close around his digit, sucking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the thick of it, tasting the salty, woodsy flavor of him, and it only feeds the foggy haze in your mind more. 

Spit pools at the corner of your lips. His thumb moves in and out of your mouth, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he fucks his cockhead in and out of your hole. Your mind begins to blur, but there’s still a storm stirring in your swollen eyes, and Joel, as always, can see it. 

“Alright, this ain’t workin’,” he sighs exasperatedly. 

And you think he’s utterly fed up with you not obeying him. He unsticks his body from yours, and your eyes search his face — the lines beside his eyes, the hairs in his brows, the muscles around his lips — trying to decode the emotion that flits across his features. Though, as expected, it’s near impossible to read him. Joel may have been able to crack you open, and although the years he has spent in Jackson have managed to soften him up — tiny cracks in his stony exterior over time — he remains inscrutable. 

For a moment, you think he’s going to scold you. Tell you you’re no good for him anymore. You wouldn’t blame him. You can’t seem to do anything right. Maybe he thought he wanted to take you apart, bit by careful bit. But what if he peered through the gap and saw something he didn’t like? What if he had a change of heart — now that he stepped back and assessed the damage? What if the severity of it was too much to mend? Burden too heavy to carry. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone good. Someone not in need of fixing. Someone unbroken. 

But Joel surprises you. His hand retracts from your face, and instead wraps his arm around your middle, maneuvering you onto his thighs so you're straddling him. His free hand fists the hem of your nightgown, and in one swift motion, tugs the fabric over your head and tosses it aside to join his pile of clothes on the floor. His heavy hands find your waist once again, and with the head of his cock still buried deep in between your legs, he sits up and back against the headboard, grunting a low, alright, c'mere, as he takes you with him with ease.

You cling to him like a koala, body putty and pliant as he brings your weak arms to wrap around his neck. And then, a firm hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, lets you nuzzle your wet face into the dip in his shoulder, and breathe in the comfort of his scent while his other traverses the line of your spine.

Slow but steady, Joel bucks his hips up, up, up, until the entirety of his thick length works its way into the slick slide of your cunt. Your soft thatch of curls meets his, softly grazes your clit, and you writhe in his arms, sniffle, and whimper brokenly against his shoulder, but sure, gentle hands pull you into his chest tighter. You feel the strong drum of his heart against yours, thrumming against each other: ga-gung, ga-gung, ga-gung, pace quickening, like they're trying to catch up, trying to sync. Your body melts into his. Skin to skin, heart to heart, heat of your cunt to the heat of his cock; and then suddenly, two become one.

“Shh, shhh, I know, baby, I know. You got it,” he whispers, as he begins to rock you back and forth, back and forth, lulling you gently back into the haze, and everything finally fades away. 

He presses a kiss right behind your ear. “Therrrre we go, just take it, good girl,” he murmurs as a heavy hand pets your hair. And whether he’s talking about his cock or his praise, you obey regardless. Your cunt sucks the heat of his cock in deep. Let him fuck himself into you; let his warmth smolder you until your cunt ignites. Let it roar and burn and spread through your system like wildfire. Let him make you good.

The tips of his fingers move through your hair in small ministrations, gently scratching away at your skull. “Daddy—s–so big—” you whimper, your fingers pulling the hair at the nape of his neck, tears welling up in your eyes as something low in your belly begins to churn. 

“Shhh, angel, it’s okay. I know, s’a lot,” he soothes, feeling his deep voice reverberate against your chest. Your cunt contracts at his praise, and the steady pace of his hips falters briefly; he groans deeply when he feels his tip choked tight within your walls, “you’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart, so good.”  

He continues his shallow thrusts while he rocks you in his arms. There’s a low static buzz in your ears, but you can still hear the perverse chant that manages to fall from your lips — one that grows louder with every roll of his hips, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy. And in turn, he murmurs incessant blabbers of, you’re okay, angel, daddy’s here, daddy’s gotcha, into your hair, punctuating every one of his words with a soft kiss to your temple and a slow buck of his hips.  

The tip of his cock nudges that soft ridge deep inside you, and he feels your cunt flutter around him. “You gonna come for me, angel, hm? You gonna be a real good girl for daddy and let me feel this drippy little pussy come all over me?” He coos.  

“Uh-huh,” you murmur. 

Deft fingers curl around the back of your neck, and with the slightest of pressure, he squeezes once, gently instructing you to use your words. A silent command. 

“Y-yes, daddy, I prom–I promise, I wanna be good. I wanna be good,” you mewl.

His nose drags along the side of your face, down, down, down, until his heated lips meet your pulse point. “Go on, baby, let go n’ get daddy all messy. Show daddy how good of a girl you are,” he rambles, his voice a low vibration, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

With your tight cunt full and impaled on his cock, your clit throbs, eager for more friction. You rut your hips against his, humping him like a dog in heat as you rub your puffy pearl against the graying curls there, smearing him in your slick just as he insisted.   

And within seconds, your body constricts, navel pulls taut, and then something fiery in your belly erupts. Your body begins to tremble as stars burst behind your eyelids, liquid heat turns your mind and body molten, melting away completely with the force of your release.

“Daaaddy,” you cry, lips quivering. Your muscles go lax, and your body slumps in his hold, feeling the last of your energy leaving you. Your head lulls back, and his hand slides up the base of your neck in time to catch it in his massive palm.

He clutches you tight, marveling at your fucked-out form in his arms while babbling praises of,  ohhh–that’s it, that’s it, good job, baby, such a good fuckin’ girl— daddy’s so proud of you, as warm tears roll down your face. And it only spurs him on. 

His languid strokes speed up, your body jolts above him violently, weeping cunt fluttering repeatedly around him. Your mouth falls open, wanton moans escape past your parted lips as he fucks you harder. “Christ, that’s it, that’s my girl. Look at you, perfect little thing,” he pants, coaxing you through your orgasm. 

His eyes drop quickly to watch the bounce of your tits, nipples peaked and gleaming with beads of sweat. He dips his head to one sticky breast, and with a flick of his hot tongue, he laps up the salt on your skin. 

It elicits a sharp gasp from you, your chewed fingernails desperately trying to claw at him, your body arching against his mouth, and you feel him grin against the curve of your breast. His mouth drifts, wraps his whiskered lips around your other swollen nipple, tongue swirls the pointed bud, teasing you with a graze of his teeth across the wet peak before nipping it, tugging the stiffened point ever so slightly between his teeth.  

“Daddy–oh!” You choke on a moan, and your spent pussy clenches around him so tight, your cunt is almost forcing him out. His hips buck into you harder in response, his thrusts growing more erratic as he seeks his own release. 

Joel hisses, mouth releasing your tit with a wet pop, “sweet Jesus, m’gonna give it to you real good, baby—like you deserve, fuck—”

He's cut off by the strangled groan that rips through his chest, his back arches off the headboard, and you feel him twitch. His grasp on your enervated form tightens, and then a blazing heat spreads inside you. His sweaty forehead falls to your dampened chest, the swell of your breasts cushioning the drop of his head, his body convulsing as he pumps upwards into your core. Cock pulsing and spasming within your walls as he continues to spill inside you, your belly swelling and set to burst full of his seed.  

Joel slumps back against the headboard, his arms loosen, but they don’t release you, just holds you there on top of him as he presses hasty kisses and whispers shaky sweet nothings into your hair while his hot seed dribbles out around his length, turning the hair at the root of his cock into a pool of sticky milky white.  

You don’t know if it’s minutes or hours that pass by as you stay limp in his lap, breathing in the sweat and sex on his skin as you snuggle back into his neck, the heat a low simmer. But when he runs a warm, wet rag between your legs and uses the same one to wipe your mixed wet off of his shaft before he tucks you in with a peck to your lips, the tip of your nose, a long kiss to your forehead, and lays himself on top of you with the full weight of him, pulling the comforter up to trap the heat of your bodies between you, sore cunt plugged with his softened cock once more, you know that he makes you feel whole. Not ruined or broken. Not stupid or useless or helpless. And in truth, it's all you’ve ever known with him.

As you slip gently into the waiting black, small fingers that draw circles into his silver curls come to a slow, you think you hear a quiet sigh — feel his lips lazily form around the words against your tacky skin — something of, you are good, angel tucked away into the valley between your naked breasts like a secret. And you think you believe him, and for now, that’s enough for you.

[kamitv]

could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

[actual-changeling]

i have watched the kiss scene and the breakup as a whole more times than i can count and my brain is still trying to process all the things it picked up on.

my newest painful obsession: aziraphale thought crowley came back for him.

they kiss, aziraphale says i forgive you and instead condemns them both, crowley leaves. the lip touching itself is fucking essay worthy because holy SHIT the amount of micro expressions flickering across his face is endless, michael sheen acted his ass off.

i think it's a mixture of surprise, unspoken love, a HEAVY dose of fear, disbelief, and oh my god what did he just do what did i just do. he turns away from the door and we get a very very quick shot of how exactly he is angled.

standing up straight with faked spiteful anger, the same anger he spit at crowley out of fear and insecurity, chin up, clearly waiting for something - or rather someone. we gotta remember that every single time crowley has left aziraphale, he came back. every. single. time. he came back and apologized, that's what they do.

crowley comes back and aziraphale forgives him and they continue bearing their silence.

the bell rings when the door opens again, just like it did when crowley left, and just. look at his face. how quickly he swivels around. the blink and you will miss it spark of hope.

and then the pure devastation when he realizes it's not crowley.

aziraphale thought crowley was coming back for him. he was WAITING for him to come back. even after all that, he couldn't imagine crowley actually leaving him behind, especially not after that kiss and his entire indirect love confession.

just like crowley thought for a tiny heartbeat that aziraphale was kissing him back, aziraphale hoped, hell, he fucking thought he KNEW crowley would never abandon him. not after "i could always rely on you. you could always rely on me." aziraphale has taken him for granted, of course he thought it was him coming through the door.

but that spark of hope gets stomped out beneath the metatrash's feet and he fully turns around, unable to face him and the reality of it all.

this time, he went too far.

this time, crowley did not want forgiveness.

he was about to say i love you and turned it into i forgive you, still clinging to their old ways, their old rituals, just that they are no longer those beings, no longer in that specific relationship. everything has changed.

they both thought the other would never abandon them. turns out they were both wrong.