#the world is weird in the right way for a change

[terraswallows]

Alright, here’s a delightfully not safe for work trans girl confession that I feel doesn’t get nearly enough attention.

Especially in media or even queer spaces: how drastically your… let’s call it "output," changes the further you go into your transition.

So, pre-transition? I was an absolute little deviant. I won’t sugarcoat it—I had golf ball-sized balls, was hung enough to make even the straight boys blush, and when it came to making a mess, I could rival the grand finale of a bad hentai. It was a whole experience, and honestly, I leaned into it for a while because I didn’t know what else I could be. I thought maybe if I just used what I had hard enough, loud enough, slutty enough—it’d drown out the quiet ache of dysphoria. Spoiler: it didn’t.

Then came HRT. And with it, a full shutdown of the “boy horny” I’d grown so used to. I didn’t want to touch it, didn’t care to. It wasn’t even guilt or shame—I just forgot it existed. Months passed, and I realized I hadn’t even tried to get off since No Nut November… which, funny enough, was also the start of my estrogen journey.

And oh stars, what a journey it’s been.

Fast forward six months and... well, it’s safe to say things have shrunk. My once obnoxiously eager bits have withered into something far less commanding. The balls? Tiny. The rest? Still there, still usable, but she’s quieter now. Softer. Gentler. Like she’s finally learning how to whisper instead of scream.

The turning point was the first time I got girl horny. You know what I mean—when your thighs start to squeeze involuntarily, your body hums, and the idea of soft hands and whispered kisses makes you melt like a candle left in the sun. I didn’t know what to do with it, honestly. So I caved and decided to… revisit some old habits.

And let me just say: the difference was hilarious.

Gone were the days of puddles and panting. What I got was a single, confused little spurt that barely cleared the tip. I could’ve spit farther. I blinked. Laughed. And then I realized—oh right, no testosterone, no constant tug-of-war with dysphoria, no desperate “prove you’re a man” nonsense. Just me. Soft, femme, happy.

The porn world can keep its gallons. I’ll take my gentle dribble and the way my body finally feels mine.

So here's the question I want to throw out to other sapphic/trans femmes and gals out there: What’s a not-so-talked-about NSFW thing you found out after transitioning? Something weird, funny, affirming, or just deeply personal?

We need more of these stories—messy, honest, soft, and unapologetically ours.

[floodflameschosen]

"I’ve wanted this since the moment I met you."

with noah please 😊

CW: fluff and softness. shy, reserved noah. that's it.

i guess i was in my feelings here. hope you enjoy this, anon.

It all started with a Help Wanted sign and a bad breakup.

You weren’t even looking for a job that day, just needed a distraction—something to fill the weird feeling that settles after your life changes in a way no one else really notices.

The sign was taped crookedly to the window of a record store tucked between a coffee shop and a tattoo parlor, and something about it just felt right, like the universe had carved out a soft place for you to land after the crash. Maybe it was the vintage posters in the display, maybe it was the smell of old paper and vinyl that drifted out when the door opened as a customer walked out.

Maybe it was fate.

You’d only meant to ask if the position was still open. Noah was the one who interviewed you.

He looked like he belonged there—tall, black hoodie rolled at the sleeves, long hair messily tied, ink curling up his arms and neck, pen tucked behind his ear, eyes attentive and unreadable. He asked if you knew the difference between analog and digital mastering, and you said yes, even though it was a lie.

He then handed you a crate of used vinyls and told you to alphabetize them. You did—quietly, carefully, like that stupidly simple task was the most important thing in the world right now and you had something to prove.

There was something quiet and unreadable in the way he watched you do it, but in the end, you passed the test. 

He trained you over the next few weeks—serious and half-distracted, like his mind was always somewhere else. He didn’t say much, barely smiled, barely even talked unless it was about restocking or the stereo setup. At first, you thought he didn’t like you, but then you figured you were just a responsibility he hadn’t asked for.

But as time passed, you noticed the way his fingers lingered when he handed you sleeves, the way he’d steal quick glances when he thought you weren’t looking. You started to understand him in pieces—through the way he’d light up when a rare pressing came in, or the reverent way he talked about certain albums, like music itself was sacred.

And then there were the people who made him soften.

Nicholas, one of the tattoo artists from the parlor next door, stopped by almost every afternoon—sometimes with coffee, sometimes just to bug him—and every single time, Noah’s whole posture would change. He’d grin, roll his eyes and laugh at whatever dumb joke Nick cracked, and lean against the counter like he actually knew how to relax.

It was warm, open, like he was letting himself be young and unserious for a second.

Same with Vincent, the owner of the store—who only showed up now and then, usually to drop off something or talk shop. But every time he did, Noah would perk up, eyes brighter, tone lighter. Vincent treated him like a little brother, ruffled his hair sometimes, gave him hell with affection tucked into it—and Noah, for all his usual quiet edges, melted under it. Not obviously, just in the way his shoulders dropped, in the little smile that lingered even after Vincent left.

You liked seeing that version of him: the soft one. The one who didn’t try so hard to stay cool or guarded or a million miles away at all times. It made you wonder what it might feel like to be the reason he softened like that.

And then one night, during your first inventory count after your second month at the shop, things sort of shifted.

The lights were low, the shop was closed—inventory always happened after hours, Noah said. You were crouched near the jazz section with a clipboard when you heard the soft scratch of a needle dropping, followed by a gritty, pulsing track that filled the space like smoke.

Guitars, heavy drums, a voice that sank into your bones.

“Hey,” you called without looking up, fingers stilling. “I like that. Who’s playing?”

Silence.

You glanced over your shoulder.

Noah stood behind the counter, head ducked, messing with the stereo like it suddenly wouldn’t cooperate. He mumbled something you didn’t catch.

“What?”

He cleared his throat, still not meeting your eyes.

“It’s, uh. My band.”

Your brows shot up.

“Wait. Seriously?”

He finally glanced at you, and there was this flush creeping up his neck, all the way to his ears.

“Yeah. That’s me singing. And I wrote most of this EP.”

You blinked. Then blinked again.

“Holy shit, Noah. You’re really good.”

His mouth twitched like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to grin or hide under the counter.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, fiddling with the volume like he needed something to do with his hands. “Didn’t think it was your thing.”

He looked at you then, and it wasn’t unreadable anymore—it was vulnerable. Shy, even. And maybe something more. Something that made your breath catch even as you looked away, as if you hadn’t felt it crawl beneath your skin.

It was supposed to be just a stupid job. A paycheck. A distraction.

But then came more of those late nights at the store. More of the music. More of Noah.

The quiet rituals you created without meaning to—takeout cartons stacked on the counter, his drink order memorized, the stereo always spinning something one of you picked to share. Something worth talking about, worth pausing for. He’d play you a track and watch your reaction instead of listening to the song himself.

You’d do the same when it was your turn, hoping he liked what you chose to introduce that week. Hoping it meant something.

You stopped pretending you didn’t notice how close he stood sometimes. How his arm would brush yours when you both stood behind the counter, how his knee would knock gently against yours when you sat side by side on the floor, counting sleeves, arguing about genre tags.

You think he also stopped pretending he didn’t notice the way your eyes lingered a little too long at times, or how your laughter softened just for him.

And now?

Now it’s getting harder to ignore the way your heart stutters every time his fingers brush yours. The way your breath catches when he leans in to point at something on the screen, his voice low and close in your ear. The way his gaze drops to your mouth sometimes—brief, involuntary, guilty.

It’s definitely not just a job anymore.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

Tonight, the bell over the shop door had long stopped jingling, the lights dimmed to just the warm golden ones over the counter and along the back wall.

Outside, the street was empty. Inside, the air was filled with the smell of noodles and sweet sauce from the takeaway between two open laptops, receipts fanned out like playing cards.

You were cross-legged on the rug near the speaker, chewing slowly, eyes fluttering shut at the first crackle of the vinyl you just set spinning.

Noah leaned against the counter, watching you.

“Which one is this again?” He asked, sipping the drink he held in one big hand, the other twirling a pen over his tattooed knuckles.

“Blue Valentine,” you said softly. “You said you were in the mood for something kind of sad, right? This one’s sad, but not tragic.”

He smiled softly.

“Sounds about right.”

You tapped a few keys on your laptop, scrolling through inventory lists, the background melody weaving between the keys. After a minute, Noah took a seat beside you with a little grunt, his knee brushing yours.

You didn’t move.

“Still not sick of this?” He asked, not looking at you, his voice low. “Staying late, I mean. Doing boring paperwork to occasionally sad music.”

You glanced over at him, mouth curling up at the corners.

“No. This is my favorite part of the month, actually.”

That made him glance your way, slow. Something shifted behind his eyes, but then he just hummed, looked back at the screen of your laptop.

“Yeah. Mine too.”

And for a moment, neither of you moved or said anything else. The crackling music filled the silence, and the air between you was charged—the kind of static that buzzed louder than any song.

You went back to work in silence, but not long passed before you felt his gaze on you again. When you turned to meet it, your breath caught.

There was something there, a question hanging in the space between your bodies. Nothing loud, or urgent. Just waiting.

The kind of question Noah would never ask out loud.

Not because he didn’t feel it—God, you could see that he did—but because he was too careful with things that mattered. Too guarded, too quiet. Maybe even a little scared. He held his wants like fragile records, tucked deep in sleeves where they couldn’t be scratched.

So if anything was going to happen—really happen—you knew it had to come from you. You were going to have to lean in first.

You were going to have to answer the question for him.

With that in mind, you reached out, fingers brushing against his hand, tentative yet deliberate. He didn’t pull away—instead, his fingers curled around yours, warm and steady. Your heart pounded, the world narrowing down to the two of you, the soft glow of the shop lights, and the music that had become your middle ground.

Noah glanced down at your joined hands, then back up. His thumb moved in a slow stroke across your knuckles, and he gave the gentlest tug.

Another silent question.

A quiet please.

You leaned in first—just far enough to meet him halfway—and he met you with a breath that trembled. His lips touched yours, hesitant and warm, and then firmer, more certain when you didn’t pull back.

You kissed him back.

It was soft, slow. The kind of kiss that made time fold in on itself. His hand slid to your jaw like he was afraid to press too hard, like he wanted to memorize the shape of you—here, now, finally.

You melted into him, your own hand settling against his chest, feeling the thump of his heart beneath the fabric of his hoodie. He was shaking just a little.

When he pulled back, barely, just enough to breathe against your lips, he whispered it like a secret:

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I met you.”

You kissed him again before he could second-guess it. Slower this time, deeper.

He tasted like noodles and sweet sauce and something just him—something warm and familiar, like comfort you didn’t know you’d been reaching for until now.

Yeah, you think. Maybe I’d wanted this since the very beginning, too.

tag list: @concretejunglefm @defuckingthrone-dot-com @fadingangelwisp @ami--gami @lacy1986 @flowery-mess @tosoundlessdarkistare

[inseobts]

Fate Won’t Take You From Me

chifuyu matsuno x fem! reader x mitsuya takashi

what if your boyfriend chifuyu knows the future will never be nice to the two of you and he doesn't know how to change it.

a/n: I wrote this when I still had to finish the anime so I hope it's not too bad o(TヘTo)

words count: 4.6k

tags: angst, drama, love triangle(?)

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Chifuyu leans against the wall of the abandoned warehouse, arms crossed, watching as Takemichi rubs his temples like he’s battling the worst headache of his life.

He just got back from another dive into the future, another desperate attempt to fix things before everything spirals out of control. Chifuyu is used to this by now. The frustration, the exhaustion in Takemichi’s eyes.

Takemichi looks uneasy, avoiding his gaze, shifting uncomfortably like he’s keeping a secret.

Chifuyu doesn’t like that.

“So?” he presses, forcing his voice to stay casual “I guess we didn't win yet.”

Takemichi hesitates “It’s… complicated.”

It always is. Chifuyu sighs, running a hand through his hair “Yeah, yeah, it always is. But you know what? I wanna know something else. You know I always try to not ask much but I'm too curious.”

Takemichi finally looks at him “What?”

Chifuyu smirks, trying to lighten the mood, though there’s a weight in his chest that he can’t explain “I never asked before but… What about me and y/n?” he asks, referring to you “Do we… you know… last?”

Takemichi blinks “Last?”

“Yeah. Do we stay together? Are we finally married?”

It’s supposed to be a stupid question. A joke, even. Because of course you do. You and Chifuyu have been through everything together. There’s can't be no version of the future where you aren’t by his side.

Right?

Takemichi’s silence is the first thing that unsettles him. The second is the way his friend suddenly refuses to meet his eyes.

Chifuyu feels something in his stomach twist.

“…Oi,” his voice drops “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Chifuyu, I—”

“Just tell me. The worst that can happen is that we gonna change the future.”

Takemichi takes a slow breath, and when he finally speaks, his words shatter Chifuyu’s world.

“In every timeline I’ve seen 'til now… you never marry her.”

The air in Chifuyu’s lungs disappears. It’s like the room is suddenly suffocating, like the walls are caving in around him.

He swallows hard “Then… is she… alive?”

“Yeah, she keeps doing good actually.”

“Then… is she still around? does she marry someone else?”

Takemichi hesitates. But he can’t lie, not about this.

“…Mitsuya.”

For a moment, Chifuyu doesn’t move. He can’t.

His brain refuses to accept the words, refuses to process them.

Mitsuya? Mitsuya?

It has to be a mistake. Takemichi has to be messing with him... but his face tells him everything.

It’s true.

His fingers curl into fists. His heart pounds, a chaotic mix of emotions, shock, denial, fear. But the worst one is the burning, consuming jealousy that claws its way into his chest.

Mitsuya. His friend. The guy he trusts with his life.

And the guy who, in every future that exists, steals you away from him?

Chifuyu forces a laugh, but it comes out weird “Nah… nah, that’s bullshit.”

Takemichi doesn’t say anything.

Chifuyu’s jaw tightens “She loves me.” His voice is sharp now, more desperate than he wants it to be “She’s with me.”

Takemichi finally speaks, and his voice is gentle. Pitying.

“…She’s with you... now.”

Now.

The word slices through Chifuyu like a blade.

Because that means one day, you won’t be.

One day, you’ll wake up and love someone else.

One day, you’ll leave him behind.

His chest tightens painfully, like his heart is being crushed in a vice. He wants to scream, to fight, to tell Takemichi he’s wrong. But he can’t, because deep down, a part of him knows… you’ve always been close to Mitsuya after all.

A part of him knows, if he looks too closely, he’ll start noticing things he never wanted to see.

But he refuses to let that happen. He won’t let fate take you from him. He can’t.

Chifuyu doesn’t sleep that night.

He lies awake, staring at the ceiling, Takemichi’s words replaying in his head like a curse.

“In every timeline I’ve seen… you never marry her.”

“She ends up with Mitsuya.”

He hates it. Hates how it latches onto his brain, poisoning every thought, twisting everything he knows about you. About him.

It’s stupid. You love him. He knows you do. But now, he can’t shake the feeling that one day, that won’t be enough.

The next day, he finds you outside Mitsuya’s sewing room, your back against the wall as you wait for him.

You look up when you see him, eyes bright. His girl. His heart aches just looking at you.

“Chifuyu” you call out, pushing off the wall to meet him “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His gaze flickers to the door behind you. Mitsuya’s door.

Something in him snaps.

“What about you?” his voice comes out sharper than he means it to “What are you doing here?”

You blink at him, confused “I told Mitsuya I’d stop by today. He’s fixing up my jacket.”

Of course. Mitsuya.

Chifuyu clenches his jaw, ignoring the way his stomach twists.

“So you just waited out here for him?” he asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Yeah?” you frown, tilting your head “Why?”

He knows it’s stupid. He knows he’s being irrational. But now, every second you spend with Mitsuya feels like a countdown.

Like every moment between you two is another step toward the day you wake up and realize you love him instead.

And the worst part? You don’t even know it’s coming. And he doesn't even know when does that exactly happen.

Chifuyu swallows down the jealousy burning in his throat and forces a grin, his usual grin, the one you love.

“I just didn’t know you guys were that close” he says.

You roll your eyes, laughing “Of course we are. He’s my friend.”

Yeah. Friend. Until he’s not.

The door behind you suddenly opens, and Mitsuya steps out, wiping his hands on a rag. He looks up, notices Chifuyu, and nods.

“Yo” Mitsuya greets.

Chifuyu nods back, but there’s something in his chest, something ugly, clawing at him as he watches you smile at him.

Is this what fate looks like?

Mitsuya turns to you, handing you your jacket “Should be good as new now.”

You take it with a grateful smile “Thanks, Mitsuya. You’re the best.”

Chifuyu watches as Mitsuya reaches out to fix the collar of your shirt, a simple, meaningless gesture.

Something inside him breaks, and efore he even thinks, he grabs your wrist.

“Come on” he says, voice tight “We’re leaving.”

You blink at him in surprise “Chifuyu?”

He doesn’t let go. Doesn’t want to let go.

Mitsuya watches him, silent. Calm, as always. But Chifuyu swears he sees something in his eyes, a question.

Chifuyu forces a grin, pulling you closer to him.

“She’s mine, Mitsuya” he says lightly, but there’s an edge to his voice.

Mitsuya doesn’t react, just watches. Like he’s studying him. Like he already knows something’s wrong.

You pull your wrist free, frowning up at him “What’s with you today? That was rude.”

He hates how guilty you sound, like you’ve done something wrong. Like you’re the one hurting him, when it’s fate itself that’s betraying him.

“Nothing” he lies, forcing himself to relax “Let’s just go.”

You hesitate, glancing back at Mitsuya, but eventually sigh and nod “Okay. See you later, Mitsuya.”

“Yeah” Mitsuya says slowly, watching the way Chifuyu keeps you close “See you.”

Chifuyu doesn’t look back as he leads you away, but he knows Mitsuya is still watching, and for the first time, Chifuyu realizes something.

He’s not just fighting fate anymore.

He’s fighting Mitsuya too.

Chifuyu doesn’t let go of your hand until you’re far from Mitsuya’s place. Even then, his grip lingers, fingers still curled around yours like he’s afraid to lose you.

You glance at him, brows furrowed “Okay, seriously. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing” he says too quickly “Just wanted to spend time with you.”

You give him a look “You could’ve just asked instead of dragging me away like that.”

His stomach twists. You’re not mad, not really, but there’s something in your tone. Something off. Like you’re confused. Like you don’t understand why he’s acting this way.

Because you actually don’t. Because you don’t know what he knows.

He forces a smirk, bumping his shoulder against yours “I just missed my girl, that’s all.”

Your expression softens, but only a little “Still… you were kinda rude to Mitsuya back there.”

His jaw clenches before he can stop it “You always have to defend him like that?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to take them back.

You blink, surprised “What? Chifuyu, it’s not about defending him, it’s just—”

“Forget it” he cuts you off, shaking his head “Let’s go do something fun.”

You hesitate for a second, then sigh “Fine. But if you keep acting weird, I’m making you tell me what’s up.”

He just smiles, pulling you along, ignoring the tightness in his chest.

He won’t let fate take you from him. No matter what.

Later that night, Chifuyu watches you from across the room as you scroll through your phone. You’re probably texting Hina or some of the other girls, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him.

His mind replays Takemichi’s words over and over again like a nightmare.

“She ends up with Mitsuya.”

His fingers curl into fists. He can’t let that happen. He won’t.

But would Mitsuya even fight for you?

Would he ever try to take you from him?

No. He knows Mitsuya. He knows he’d never do something like that. Mitsuya’s too good. Too loyal.

And that scares him even more. Because if Mitsuya isn’t the one stealing you away…

Then maybe it’s you. Maybe one day, without even realizing it, you’ll start choosing him instead. Maybe it’s already happening.

Chifuyu swallows hard.

He needs to do something. Now.

Mitsuya, on the other hand, notices the change almost immediately.

At first, it’s subtle. Chifuyu standing closer to you, always making sure to keep a hand on your waist or your wrist. The way he interrupts conversations just to pull you away.

It’s small things. Easy to brush off.

Until he realizes Chifuyu never lets you be alone with him anymore.

Until he catches the sharp glances Chifuyu throws his way when you aren’t looking.

Until Chifuyu starts watching, like he’s waiting for something to happen.

Mitsuya doesn’t say anything at first. He just watches back.

Because he’s starting to understand.

Mitsuya leans against his worktable, arms crossed, watching Chifuyu from across the room.

It’s been like this for days now. Chifuyu hovering close to you, keeping you just out of reach. Always watching. Always waiting.

At first, Mitsuya thought he was imagining it. That maybe Chifuyu was just being overprotective, like he always was. But now it’s obvious.

Chifuyu isn’t just protecting you. He’s guarding you from him.

Mitsuya exhales through his nose, standing up straight “Chifuyu”

Chifuyu stiffens but doesn’t look at him “What?”

“You got a problem with me?”

Chifuyu finally meets his gaze. His eyes are sharp, guarded “No.”

Mitsuya tilts his head slightly, studying him “Then why are you acting like you do?”

Chifuyu exhales a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Mitsuya doesn’t let up “Because it seems like you’ve been keeping her away from me.”

Chifuyu’s jaw clenches, but he forces a grin “She’s my girlfriend, Mitsuya. Maybe I just want to spend more time with her.”

Mitsuya doesn’t react “And maybe you’re scared.”

Chifuyu’s whole body tenses.

That’s all the confirmation Mitsuya needs.

Mitsuya takes a slow step forward, his voice calm but firm “You’re not stupid, Chifuyu. You know I’d never do anything to mess with your relationship.”

Chifuyu says nothing.

“But you’re still looking at me like I’m the enemy” Mitsuya continues “Like you’re waiting for me to take her from you.”

Chifuyu exhales sharply, turning away “Drop it, Mitsuya.”

“No” Mitsuya’s voice is steady, unwavering “Because this isn’t about me, is it? It’s about you.”

Chifuyu’s hands curl into fists.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Mitsuya doesn’t let up “You really think she’s gonna leave you”

Chifuyu’s eyes snap to his, burning with frustration “Shut up, Mitsuya.”

Mitsuya holds his gaze “Or maybe...” He pauses, voice softer now, like he’s starting to understand.

“Maybe you really do think I would try steal her from you...”

Something flickers in Chifuyu’s eyes.

A crack.

Mitsuya inhales slowly “…You know something, don’t you?”

Chifuyu doesn’t answer.

Mitsuya watches him for a moment longer, then sighs “If you keep this up, you’ll lose her anyway.”

Chifuyu’s breath catches in his throat.

“Not because of me, or because of fate itself” Mitsuya says simply “But because you won’t let her breathe.”

Chifuyu doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stands there. And for the first time, he wonders if Mitsuya is right.

If in his desperate attempt to fight fate… He’s becoming the reason you leave.

Chifuyu’s mood shifts over the next few days. You notice it immediately. His usual smiles are forced, and the protective gestures feel more suffocating than caring. He pulls you closer when you don’t need it, watches you with eyes that don’t just look. They study.

And the worst part? He barely acknowledges it. Like he’s pretending everything’s fine.

You can’t pretend anymore.

This isn’t the Chifuyu you know. The Chifuyu you know was always open with you. Always honest. Always real. But now…

You can feel the distance growing.

It hurts more than you thought it would.

So tonight, you decide to confront him.

You wait until the two of you are alone, until it’s just you and him in the living room, the silence thick and suffocating.

He’s on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, a manga in hand, but his mind clearly elsewhere.

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, your gaze focused on him “Chifuyu.”

He doesn’t look up “Hm?”

You step forward, your heart pounding “Stop acting like this.”

He freezes, the manga slipping from his hand, but he doesn’t look up “What are you talking about?”

You take a deep breath, walking closer to him, every step heavy with the weight of your frustration “You’re being distant. You’re overbearing. You’ve been acting like… like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be kept away from everyone. And you know I don't like it.”

Chifuyu finally looks up, but there’s no understanding in his gaze. Just confusion “I’m just looking out for you.”

You shake your head “That’s not it. It’s more than that.”

He looks down at his hands, then back up at you, the walls around him thickening “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me, Chifuyu” you step closer, your voice firm but shaking from the emotion rising in your chest “You keep acting jealous... You think I would leave you for someone else?”

His eyes widen, and you can tell you’ve hit a nerve, but he still doesn’t speak.

“You’ve been pushing me away, and I don’t know why. I thought you trusted me, but now…” you take a breath, steadying yourself “Now, I feel like you don’t even know who I am anymore.”

He stands up suddenly, his face a mix of frustration and guilt “I trust you, Y/N! I do! But…”

He trails off, his voice faltering as if he’s trying to find the words to explain the chaos inside his head.

“But what?” you ask quietly.

Chifuyu rubs his forehead, as if trying to calm the storm in his mind “Every time I look at you, I think about what happens next. What if one day, you wake up and you’re not with me anymore?”

You blink, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. His eyes are dark, haunted, like he’s seen something he can’t shake.

“Chifuyu…” you whisper, stepping closer to him, your voice softening “I’m not going anywhere. I'm here...”

He looks up at you, his eyes wide with uncertainty, and for a moment, you see the fear, raw and unfiltered, that he’s been hiding.

“You don’t get it” he mutters, voice breaking slightly “I saw it, Y/N. In the future. In every timeline… you end up with Mitsuya. Not me. You marry him.”

You freeze. The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you can see the pain in his eyes, the torment he’s been holding in.

“You saw it?” you repeat, your voice shaking now.

“Not me, actually. But it’s the same…” he admits, his voice almost a whisper “No matter what… you end up with him. And it kills me, Y/N. I can’t… I can’t just stand by and watch it happen.”

You take a step back, his confession crashing over you in waves. The room feels like it’s spinning, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say.

But then, you find your voice “Chifuyu…”

You take his hands in yours, forcing him to look at you “Listen to me. I don’t know what you saw or not. But this…” you shake your head, feeling a mix of confusion and compassion “This isn’t about fate. It’s about us. I choose you. Every day, I choose you.”

Chifuyu’s eyes well with unshed tears, his hands trembling slightly as he holds onto you “But what if it’s already decided?”

You gently cup his face, forcing him to meet your eyes “Then we fight it. Together.”

His breath catches, and for the first time in days, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“Chifuyu…” you say softly “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But you need to trust me.”

He nods, his voice breaking as he whispers “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was so scared…”

You smile gently, brushing a strand of hair from his face “I know you were. But you can’t keep pushing me away like this. We’re in this together. Always.”

Chifuyu finally lets out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing as he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly like he’s afraid he might lose you all over again.

“I won’t let you go,” he says, his voice thick with emotion “I promise.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, Chifuyu feels like maybe he can stop fighting fate and trust that you are his, and no one will take you from him.

It’s a quiet evening when Takemichi arrives back from another dive into the future. He’s been gone for days, and you’ve been trying to distract Chifuyu from the anxiety that’s been weighing on him ever since the last conversation.

When Takemichi walks in, his face is grim.

Chifuyu notices him first. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes tired and heavy with the burden of knowing too much.

You look up from where you’re sitting on the couch and smile, happy to see Takemichi, but Chifuyu doesn’t share your enthusiasm.

“Back already?” Chifuyu says casually, his tone sharp and protective.

Takemichi hesitates. The last time he revealed something, it only made things worse.

“You… you want to know what happens this time?” Takemichi asks, his eyes shifting nervously between the two of you.

Chifuyu stands up, walking over to where you’re sitting. His hand finds yours, squeezing it gently, but there’s a firmness in his voice as he answers Takemichi.

“No,” Chifuyu says, his voice steady “I don’t need to know. Whatever happens in the future… we’ll handle it.”

Takemichi blinks, surprised by Chifuyu’s refusal. Normally, Chifuyu is the one pushing for answers, the one desperate to fix things, but today… it’s different.

“Chifuyu…” Takemichi starts, but Chifuyu cuts him off, his voice unwavering.

“No, Takemichi,” Chifuyu says, shaking his head “I don’t need to know what happens with me and Y/N. I trust her. I trust us.”

You feel your heart swell, the love and reassurance in Chifuyu’s words more than enough to put you at ease. But then, a part of you know what Takemichi has seen, his face tells everything.

Takemichi swallows hard, looking between you both. He knows the truth. He knows what he’s seen. He knows what’s coming. And yet, he doesn’t want to say it.

Chifuyu’s grip on your hand tightens, but he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t look at Takemichi. He stares straight ahead, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I already know what you saw” Chifuyu replies, his voice calm and controlled, but there’s an edge to it “But I don’t care. This is our timeline. Our future.”

Takemichi’s eyes widen in confusion, not understanding what Chifuyu means. He expected a fight, maybe even an argument, but Chifuyu… Chifuyu’s eyes are clear. His gaze unwavering.

“You’re… you’re not angry?” Takemichi asks, his voice uncertain.

Chifuyu shakes his head slowly. He finally looks at you, his expression softening.

“No” he says simply “I’m not angry. I’m just…”

His voice falters for a moment, but he continues, his words filled with conviction “I’m choosing to believe in you, y/n. In us. And no matter what happens, I’m going to fight for that. For us. If that’s the future, it means that something might have happened and all I want is you to be happy, even if it's not with me.”

You feel a rush of emotions flood over you as you squeeze his hand tighter, the words meaning more to you than anything else. You don’t need the future to define what you have now.

Takemichi watches the exchange between the two of you, his chest tightening. He understands now. Chifuyu is choosing to trust you. He’s not going to let the future dictate his present.

“You really believe that?” Takemichi asks, his voice quiet.

Chifuyu nods firmly “Yeah. I do.”

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, the world feels still. Takemichi is silent, eyes searching Chifuyu’s face, and then, finally, he lets out a breath.

“…Alright.” Takemichi says, his shoulders slumping slightly “Then, I guess that’s all I need to hear.”

You can see the relief in Takemichi’s expression, the weight he’s been carrying lifting slightly as he looks at both of you.

“I’ll make sure this timeline works out for you guys” Takemichi adds with a small smile, stepping toward the door.

Chifuyu watches him go, then turns to face you, his eyes softer than they’ve been in days. He pulls you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if he’s afraid to ever let go.

“I’m not going anywhere either” you whisper, holding him close.

“I know” Chifuyu replies, his voice steady but filled with warmth “And I’m not letting you go either.”

You smile against his chest, feeling the love and trust between the two of you stronger than anything fate could ever throw your way.

And for the first time in a long time, Chifuyu feels like the future doesn’t matter. Because as long as he has you, nothing else will ever break them apart.

The days after are peaceful. Chifuyu’s trust in you grows stronger with each passing day. He never mentions the future again, never brings up Mitsuya, and his affection for you deepens, he’s focused, determined to make the present his truth.

But something inside you feels weird.

You don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to admit that the future still lingers like a shadow over your relationship. But after everything you’ve heard, after everything Chifuyu has sacrificed to believe in you, you can’t ignore the question that keeps pressing at the back of your mind:

Why do you never end up with Chifuyu in the future?

You’ve tried to push it away. You’ve tried to focus on the present. But the truth is, you can’t stop thinking about it. And deep down, you know you need to get the answer for yourself.

One night, when Chifuyu is busy with work and you find yourself alone, the weight of your curiosity becomes too heavy to ignore.

You slip out quietly, your heart racing as you make your way to Takemichi’s place. The chill of the night air doesn’t even register, all that matters is the unanswered question that’s been haunting you.

When Takemichi opens the door, his face softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he asks, surprised “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you,” you say quietly, stepping inside. You don’t waste any time “I need to know. Why… Why don’t I end up with Chifuyu in the future?”

Takemichi blinks, clearly taken aback. He hesitates, looking at you with a mix of sympathy and something heavier. Something he doesn’t want to say.

“Y/N…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant “Are you sure you want to know this?”

You nod, the resolve in your voice stronger than it feels “I need to know, Takemichi. Please. I have to know the truth.”

There’s a long silence as Takemichi looks at you, weighing the decision. He knows how much this will hurt. How much it could change everything. But he can’t keep it from you.

“Alright,” he says finally, his voice low “The reason… the reason you never end up with Chifuyu in the future… it’s always the same.”

You hold your breath.

“It’s because of Chifuyu,” Takemichi continues, his voice thick with regret “He never feels like he’s enough. He loves you so much that he convinces himself you’ll be better off with someone else. He pushes you away… he doesn’t want to be the one holding you back.”

Your heart sinks as you absorb his words. It’s not about Mitsuya. It’s not about you choosing someone else. It’s about Chifuyu, about his own insecurity, his fear of not being good enough for you, of loving you so much that he believes he’s destined to lose you.

“And no matter what happens,” Takemichi continues, voice trembling with empathy “Chifuyu doesn’t fight for you. Not because he doesn’t love you... he loves you more than anything. But because he thinks that’s what’s best for you. He believes you deserve someone who can give you the world, someone who won’t drag you down.”

The words crash over you like a wave, and you feel dizzy, your mind racing.

Chifuyu’s fear of being unworthy is the reason you’re torn apart. He believes his love for you is not enough to keep you.

You take a deep breath, forcing the tears back. You’ve spent so much time trying to make sense of everything, trying to figure out why fate always separates you and Chifuyu.

And now you know.

But knowing doesn’t make it any easier.

You stand there, numb for a long moment before you finally speak, your voice thick with emotion “So… it’s always his choice? He chooses to walk away from me?”

Takemichi nods, his eyes filled with sadness “Yeah. He never thinks he’s good enough for you. That’s the reason, no matter how much he loves you, no matter how hard you try, it always ends the same.”

Your heart aches as you let that sink in. The realization that Chifuyu, the person who loves you more than anything, could be the very reason you can’t stay with him.

You turn to leave, Takemichi’s voice stopping you just before you reach the door.

“Y/N,” he says softly “I’m sorry.”

You nod silently, wiping away a tear that threatens to fall. You need to go back to Chifuyu. To hold him. To remind him that he’s more than enough. You need him to believe in you, in both of you.

But deep inside, you know it won’t be easy. Because it’s never been about love. It’s been about belief.

And for now, you can only hope that, somehow, Chifuyu will find the strength to fight against the very thing that’s pulling him away from you: his own fear.

[cameronsbabydoll]

some jewish!reader x rafe cameron headcanons / blurbs because why not !!!!

1. he’s obsessed with your traditions.

rafe never cared about holidays or religion until you. now he’s hovering behind you on friday nights, asking which candle to light first, glancing at your hands like they’re magic. he doesn’t know the blessings by heart, but he watches your lips move and mouths along with you, whispering, “that one’s my favorite part,” like it’s a song he’s learning just for you.

2. he brags about you being jewish all the time.

it doesn’t matter if the person cares—he always finds a way to bring it up. “her family does shabbat every week. real dinner. none of that drive-thru shit.” he says it like it’s the most impressive thing in the world. like being yours makes him special, too.

3. he doesn’t let people talk about you sideways. ever.

the second someone makes a comment that feels off—some lazy stereotype or dumb joke—his whole vibe changes. jaw clenched. voice low. eyes dark. “you think that’s funny?” he’ll say, stepping in front of you like a wall. you barely get the chance to pull him back before he’s daring someone to try it again.

4. he calls your mom ima just to make you laugh.

the first time you taught him the word, he got this smug little smirk. now he uses it every chance he gets. “ima! your daughter’s being mean to me,” he teases, holding up an empty plate like a kid. she rolls her eyes, but she does laugh. rafe leans into your shoulder after, whispering, “told you she loves me.”

5. your family doesn’t trust him at first.

he’s rough. blunt. way too cocky for someone meeting your grandparents. but then they see him watching you during the service, standing when you stand, murmuring your name during the prayer for healing, asking quietly, “did i say that right?” and they see the way you smile at him. that’s when they start to soften.

6. he wears the star of david necklace you gave him.

he never takes it off. it rests just beneath his shirt, beside the little silver charm with your first initial. he doesn’t tell anyone what it means, but when you touch it with your fingers, his whole face changes. soft. reverent. “you gave me that,” he says like it still surprises him. “you made me yours.”

7. he watches you light candles like you’re holy.

you feel his gaze more than the flames. he stands behind you, silent, just breathing. he watches your fingers, your mouth, your lashes fluttering as you whisper the blessing. it does something to him. makes him feel like maybe there is something to believe in. something ancient. something kind.

8. he hates when you fast.

“baby, you didn’t even eat dinner last night. you’re shaking.” he follows you around all day on yom kippur like a bodyguard, holding a water bottle, checking your face for color. when the sun sets, he’s already at the table. “sit. eat. no, more than that.” he piles food on your plate, fussing until you finish everything.

9. you catch him reading your prayer book one night.

he’s laying on your bed, flipping through it slowly, brow furrowed. “these letters are so weird,” he says. “but i like how they look.” he won’t admit he was trying to learn how to say the blessing you always sing. but when you hum it later, he joins in—quiet and off-key. it makes your chest ache.

[hannya-writes]

 I choose to be yours

Fandom: Devil May Cry Pairing: Vergil x Reader Other characters: None Category: Romance, Fluff, angst from Vergil's perspective Warning: Stablished relationship, my comment at the end may be dangerous (?) Author's note: If someone knows who is the artist of the image, please, let me know [+ at the end]

Vergil was a strange man, everyone knew it was because of his long, loong time in the underworld. He was awkward, asocial, technologically impaired, stubborn and sometimes childish, this last one you assumed was because he didn't have a normal childhood and somehow he was still a child.

All of that however didn't explain why Vergil wrote a "V" in you. The first time you found it funny, especially since he had written the V in the back of your dominant hand while you slept. So you woke up to the sight of the V. No explanation, no comment, just a barely noticeable smirk.

However every time you washed your hands or took a bath the V disappeared and when you woke up the next day the V was in a new place.

Your wrist, your arm, your thighs, your shoulder, your neck, the back of your neck. He even once wrote that V in your breast and your hips.

Somehow it became a game of "where did Vergil mark me today?" And Vergil went from using common pens, to markers to even waterproof eyeliners. 

It was ridiculously funny and weird, especially when he said nothing but smiled at the sight of his mark of property only to get annoyed when it was washed away.

— you know you can mark me in other ways… right? — you asked one night, leaning in the door frame of the bathroom as he brushed his teeth. 

One of his eyebrows raised in question.He spit the minty toothpaste and you got closer, he looked down at you and you pulled him for him to lean in. His intense and heavy gaze didn't shy away, trying to figure out what you were thinking. His eyes averted to your lips and he actually made a move to try and kiss you that you had to stop. 

You giggled quietly, leaving a kiss on his cheek and deviating to his neck. You kissed him there, then you licked and Vergil hands went to your waist pulling you closer. When you sucked in his skin Vergil froze, his hands tighten in your waist and made a low growl.

When you unlatched yourself from him you took a step back and he followed in a trance, his lips almost caught yours but you stopped him again and pointed at the mirror.

— see, you can mark me the same way — you added and he looked at the mirror, to that point in his neck where you had sucked, the red spot slowly changed color to a deep purple and after a second it disappeared. — only the mark will last a good week in me — 

Vergil looked at himself and then at you, at your neck. The Demon side of him almost made him growl at the prospect of you letting him mark you, only the demon wasn't thinking in a bruise, it was thinking of biting you, tasting your blood in his tongue, leaving a permanent mark in you. A mark no demon would dare to defy… except he didn't want to bite you to give a message to demons, he wasn't afraid of demons getting to you. Demons should be afraid of being in the presence of one of the best demon huntresses in the worlds. No, demons weren't the problem. Humans were the problem. He only feared losing you to a human, worst case scenario? Losing you to his own brother.

— I will not hurt you — he said before walking out of the bathroom leaving you there perplexed.

— What!? — you whined before striding behind him to the room — why not!? It's not like you are going to pierce me with Yamato! — 

— I refuse your offering — he said in that formal manner that characterized him. — It is not my goal to leave bruises that would weaken you in your job —

— Oh yeah? Then what is your goal every morning when you mark me? — you questioned in a sassy tonel, watching him fumble with the pillows as he prepared the bed to go to sleep.

—  nothing — he muttered, clearly keeping a secret. He sat on the bed and took the book that was on the nightstand: The complete Tales and Poems on Edgar Allan Poe Vol. 5

— Vergil — the way you said his name was scolding, a warning.

— Demons mark their mates with a bite — he said as he passed pages in his book like searching for something — you are no demon, a bite is completely out of question — Vergil seemed to be speaking with himself. It takes him a good minute and a half to add — when we were children Dante always took my stuff, being by accident or on purpose — he continued in a soft tone, anxiety pouring out of him — to… avoid it, I started to mark my things with a V, that way he wouldn't take them —

You took your place by his side in the bed and looked at him passing the pages on the book in an apprehensive manner. A little smile formed in your lips as you managed to find the right words.

— I am yours — you said and Vergil stopped in his search. His stormy eyes fixed in you, his usual frown was directed at you, but his gaze was softer — and I’m not an object, I am yours because I choose to be yours, Dante can't take me away — 

Vergil’s ears were extremely red, embarrassed for having to tell the truth and because of your words. He put the book back on the nightstand and pulled you to his lap.

— Say that again — he asked in a whisper, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

— I- I am yours? — you asked tentatively and he smiled.

— the other part too — his fingers had started to play with your hair. 

— D… Dante can't take me away — a short kiss, his lips barely touching yours.

— Again — He asked, looking at you with warmth in his eyes, enjoying the sensation your words provoked in his chest and stomach.

— I’m all yours, Vergil — you muttered almost against his lips, cheeks blushed, breath fanning over his mouth. — I want no one else but you —

Vergil hated how insecure he was and how much your words helped him. He loved the way you said such sweet words, so secure and yet so embarrassed as you repeated them and realized their weight. And yet, you repeated them with such love.

— Good, because I don't want anyone else but you — He said and he meant it.

______________________________________________________

Author note: I wrote this thinking of Reader being Vergil's current partner, but if you think of Reader as the lady in red, it just add a top layer of angst.

[bajablastwrites]

Feeding My Human Companion!!

ENA x Reader

Summary: ENA makes sure you’re fed in her weird world.

Author’s Note: This is more on the short side, but I was watching someone feed their cats with an enrichment mat while I was eating and it inspired me to make this💀 (Not proof read btw)

—��——————————————————————

ENA is well aware that you’re definitely not from around here, so she’s taken it upon herself to look after her new coworker as one of her indefinite contractual obligations with you! In return you’ll be her new companion, fun!

Let’s pretend ENA somehow learned on how basic human needs such as food, a what a balanced diet for humans looks like, great. The hard part is having to locate where each food could be, so she typically leaves you in the casino or with froggy until she comes back with food for you. She wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, your body isn’t made to handle whatever strange hostile environments ENA would find herself in looking for the ingredients of today’s menu for you. She uses the information she learned about human diets and their need for variety and enrichment as her guide, so you’re not eating the same thing everyday.

I feel like she purposely doesn’t want you to be completely independent from her— not out of malice, but she thinks that if you learn how to make your own food in her world you wouldn’t need her anymore and will eventually leave because she’s no longer useful to you. So she uses the excuse of valuing your safely as her cover in order to keep you from wandering off. When she eventually comes back from her food run it’s even more gratifying to her watching you eat what she brought you.

ENA’s definitely going insist she hand feeds your dessert to you as her form of compensation for her efforts in keeping you alive. You’re definitely eating better with her than you ever did in your own world, that’s for sure.

If you ever feel bad that she goes through so much trouble in order to feed you she’ll insist that she’s more than happy to help her favorite coworker out!

“I just feel bad that you’re going out of your way to get me food.” You said while idly moving the warm lasagna around with your fork, it honestly felt like you shouldn’t be eating it since you didn’t contribute anything in order to get it. “Nonsense! I’m simply taking the opportunity to make an investment into continuing our collective business together for— WHO SAID YOU COULD STOP CHEWING!! FINISH EATING THAT STUPID CASSEROLE DISH YOU SQUISHY MEAT SACK!!!”

Did I mention she loves to watch you eat.

Sometimes it does feel like you’re being treated more like an exotic animal than an equal, though. ENA isn’t human after all, so her fascination with you can come off as dehumanizing sometimes. She’s not doing it to make you feel less than, there’s no one like you with the same needs and functions as you. She’ll try to change her approach with you to be more tailored to getting to know you as a person rather than as a species, she won’t get it right away but she’ll definitely appreciate your guidance and help in getting to know you.

[deangirlsstuff67]

Oops… Wrong Number- Part 2

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Who knew texting the wrong number could be so much fun !

Warnings: Fluffy Jensen, drinking, sexual build up slightly

Authors Note: I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Short but sweet!

Catch up here.

—————————————————————————

“I’m sorry, you accidentally text who?!”

It had been a solid week since you mistakenly saved your best friends number wrong in your phone. Later that night you had Facebook messaged her asking for it again. After talking with her and Jensen for a week straight you made the decision to go visit Texas.

Not like you had a reason to stay in a city where you know barely anyone. You’re a writer, you can do your job anywhere which is nice.

Change of scenery might be everything you need.

So here you sit, on her back porch sharing a beer and catching up with her. Just like old times. She has always been your person, the one you call when things are good or when they are completely falling apart. Y/f/n has always been supportive, but it doesn't come without her own opinions and thoughts being laced into it.

You're an adult and she respects that, I am however famous for making dumbass choices in life... especially my love life.

“Caught me completely off guard. Out of all the numbers, his was the one I typed in instead of yours.” Shaking your head, you still don’t believe it. You’ve never been close to that lucky before.

What she doesn't know is that you are still talking to Jensen. While you want to do nothing more than brag about talking to your celebrity crush or tell her how he can always make you smile or laugh when you want to cry, you neither want to lose his trust and you don't think she would approve of the age difference in anyway.

You've kind of been the girl who goes for the older men. They haven't worked out obviously, Jensen happens to be the oldest man you've ever showed interest in. Though until a week ago you never did think you'd get the chance to meet him, let alone text him, yet here you are.

Man my life is fucking weird.

She goes back inside mumbling to herself about how she needs some of my luck. You softly chuckle staring out into the big beautiful Texan sky.

Ding.

Jensen: Did you land safely sweetheart?

Naturally the smile spreads across your face as you read his message. It's cute that he checks in on you. You are a no body in his world, literally a woman who accidently text him one night. Somehow, and you aren't sure how, you both have gotten comfortable exchanging messages daily and just talking about everyday life.

Jensen has slowly borrowed his way into your heart. You wouldn't even say it was in a romantic way. Would you love a chance to have this beautiful man take you out and sweep you off your feet, well duh! Who the hell wouldn't. It goes deeper than that though. He has become a good friend. Someone who you want to talk to and tell the most boring daily details.

There isn't many people in my life that I feel that strongely towards.

Me: I did. Enjoying a beer on her back deck absorbing what Austin has to offer.

Jensen: Seriously? Austin?

Me: Yeah I know right. This getting creepy for you yet?

Jensen: Haha no it hasn't Darling. I'm actually kind of excitied about it.

Me: Oh really? Do tell please.

Jensen: Oh I don't know I have this beautiful woman who I enjoy talking to visiting the wonderful city I live in and I happen to be home for the summer. I don't know about you but this sounds like an opportunity ;)

Me: She sounds pretty amazing, you're pretty lucky!

Jensen: Smartass

Your friend comes back out with a fresh beer for you both, sitting down beside you again. Neither of you speak, enjoying the silence and beauty in front of you.

Me: Yes I am! Stick around, it gets worse honey.

Jensen: I like it. So what are you ladies going to do tonight?

Me: Nothing special. Staying in, she has to work tomorrow. I'll be on my own adventuring I guess.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night went on, you watched the sun set over the hills behind her house. Eventually she wondered to bed after a night of laughs, smiles, and hearing how her first week has been with work and living in a new state.

Between her and Jensen, the urge to move to this amazing place is getting worse by the minute.

Jensen: So you are all alone now?

Me: Kind of, she's in bed for the night. I am still running on the high of being here. Once upon a time I wanted to live here... still kind of do.

Jensen: Why didn't you?

Me: Life got in the way and took me in a different direction at the time.

Jensen: That ex who left you for his best friend?

Me: Life's a bitch I guess.

Jensen: Nah sweetheart, life is wonderful and full of surprises and adventures, look at you and I. That was nothing short of both a surprise and an adventure. Your ex boyfriend is a bitch.

Me: Won't hear me agrue that point. Can I ask something that might freak you out?

Jensen: Sure... I'm scared.

You take a huge sip of your beer before you ask your question. Liqour courage for the win.

Me: There is like a 12 year age difference between you and I.

Jensen: That's more of a statement than a question darling.

Me: Now who's the smartass?

Jensen: Guilty! Stick around sweetheart, I get better ;)

Shaking your head as you read the words you voiced to him already. Those three dots appear again.

Jensen: To answer what I'm guessing is your question, no I don't have a problem with it. I enjoy your company and considering you are still texting my old ass I'm guessing you enjoy mine. In the end that's all that matters.

Me: Oh did I forget to tell you, your mom is paying me to be your friend Jay ;)

Jensen: Keep it up and I'll have find other ways to occupy that mouth sweetheart.

Me: Haha bring it on old man.

Jensen: Brat.

Me: Me? No.

Jensen: Jesus christ woman. Does it bother you?

Me: Being a brat, no I like it alot actually ;)

Jensen: I'm warning you!

Me: Gotta find me first handsome hehe.

Me: No, it doesn't bother me. You're my type actually.

Jensen: Oh?

Me: Green eyes, tall, texan, southern drawl, can act, can sing, plays guitar, and legs meant to be wrapped around a horse... yeah definitely my type.

Jensen: And the age thing?

Me: Is perfect. I'm off to bed though honey. Talk tomorrow?

Jensen: Of course! Good night sweetheart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

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[shiongenkai]

Thoughts on Jin?

Jin is... interesting. Which is to say, I don't often think about him, but when I do, I really . Really want to squeeze him like a grape.

The nature of Eset opinion posts is that they get so fucking long I feel bad if I don't put them under a readmore. This is. No different. Oops

First of all, I think his dynamics with the other characters on both an in-universe level and a meta textual level are fascinating. I think the most obvious connection is probably with Alan (given the whole... everything with Frost vs Vaga), but I think the most interesting one is comparing him with Taiga.

Taiga and Jin are incredibly similar. Frostheim and Sinostra are essentially the true opposites in every conceivable way, yet they still retain important similarities that keep them in constant conflict. Both captains were incredibly capable until Something happened, both have vices that have a two-faced tendency, both are incredibly nihilistic on a personal level (while still being Involved)... both are attached to the MC, both have connections to Darkwick on a deeper scale than other ghouls...

Jin is in an incredibly weird spot in what his character does in relation to others. Internally, to my mind, he's in the same category as Taiga and Ed, which is a very strange group to be in. But it's because these three all have the same philosophy and general Character and express it differently.

In his prologue lines, Jin calls it a fixed match, and says he was a figurehead. Tohma calls him delicate, others call him cold, reclusive, etc. Jin seems to be able to Acknowledge his personal philosophy ('There is no changing this') but not Accept it. He Acknowledges that he has no real power over anything at the moment, but rather than letting that ideology lead him to a more 'So fuck it I'll do what I want bc we'll all die anyway' attitude (as it does w Taiga) or a 'But neither does anyone else, so I'll use my power as I please / enjoy myself' one (as it does with Ed), it leads him to this like. Despair state, almost.

'I have no real power, and never did, so what's the point in doing anything at all?'

But he can't accept that, because he is incredibly driven and motivated. He needs to succeed. He needs to Prove himself, in a sense, especially due to the pressures of being Kamurai's son, and so he Can't Accept that he Can't Do Anything. I think this is part of why Jin's stigma isn't working without MC right now. I don't think MC unlocks some special thing inside him, but I think he BELIEVES she does. I think he BELIEVES she's able to help him, and so he's able to use it again. Because he believes that she, in some way, is giving him the ability to Be In Control. Because that's what his stigma is. It's control.

And like, it's fascinating! Because Control dominates so much of his character. Control over Frostheim, control over his circumstances, control over others, control over himself. Lack of control. Lack of freedom. Oppression, tyranny, any other goddamn synonym out there.

At every turn, Jin's character focuses on these things. He's a king, but does he really have any control over his own dorm? Over what happens to them? He did his damn best in his Freshman year and got the Laurel Crown, and then what? The Clash happened. And he lost Yuri, either before or immediately after. He gained Tohma, yes, but what else did he lose? What else changed for him during that? His stigma, notably. His world spiralled out of control, and his ability to use his stigma was lost.

And so he gives up. He accepts that he can't control anything, so why try? But he really, really can't fully accept it, because all he can trust is himself. So he still. Tries. Tries to control Something. Tries to solve cases with the influence he has. The control he has. And he tries to control Tohma, because Tohma swore loyalty and should be easy to control, but he's not, and that's something that drives Jin, which we see with the mirror anomaly. It shows him two things; himself, in Frostheim garb, the King (total control; domineering), and when he calls that Pathetic, it shows him Tohma and Alan.

MC says the mirror showed the anxieties she's been keeping locked down. I firmly believe this is true for Jin too. I firmly believe he fears both sides; total loss of control and total tyranny.

And. GOD!!! I know this has been so rambling and Literally So Nothingburger and I'm sorry for that, but it's just really, really neat to look at him totally removed from how he treats MC, though I do find that dynamic interesting as well. I think he's interesting outside of Tohma, even!

I think. It's not a stretch to say that Jin's Frostheim parallel is Kaito. Which is to say, if you were to pick who Kaito resembles the most between Tohma and Jin, I think the better comparison is Jin. Which adds a lot of new fascinating layers of thought in that Kaito's confidence is lacking while his ability is pretty damn capable, or in how Kaito's attitude is honestly probably closer to Jin's internal monologue than Lucas' ever is, or how Kaito was closest to his grandmother who has already passed (while Lucas is closer to his father, who is seemingly still alive)... It's just. Fun. It's fun to look at.

I think I should probably end this here bc I have yapped way too long, but even this doesn't scratch the barest bittiest little Surface of Jin's character. I truly wish I knew More, or at least had more interesting thoughts on him, and I would LOOOOVE to read better analysis from Jin fans or others who think abt him a lot. Ough. Jin Kamurai I need to microwave you.

[anylady-fics]

Wicked game | Ch.4 - Back door

⚠️ warnings: smut

Jeongin was already awake, you could hear him moving around through the thin walls while you stayed in bed, pretending to be dead to the world. It was past 10 a.m., and he was already cleaning up, sticking to the deal. Such a good boy.

Feeling lazy, you finally dragged yourself up to make some breakfast and found him in the living room… shirtless. That early, and already all sweaty.

“You already went to the gym?”

“Yeah, woke up early and got it done.”

“I wish I had that kind of focus.”

He started going on about routines, health habits, results, diets, and a whole load of other stuff you couldn’t process because, honestly, you hadn’t had your coffee yet. You sat at the table with your cereal while he kept talking, but…

You’d always hated those creepy guys who stare or catcall women on the street, commenting on their bodies like they had no shame. But here you were, feeling just as low. Jeongin was hot—too hot. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his arms flexed when he moved, his chest rising and falling as he talked, or the sharp lines of his abs…

“Are you even listening?”

“Sure, keep going. Talk all morning if you want—just stay like that.”

“Like what?”

“Without a shirt.” You sipped your coffee, glancing back at him, and couldn’t help but notice the way his abs tensed as he laughed. “You’re too hot. Seriously, what the hell? You look bigger than last week.”

“If you’d been paying attention to what I was saying, you’d know why. But thanks for noticing!”

He went back to cleaning, and you headed to your room to change your sheets and pretend you had your life together.

When lunchtime rolled around, you checked the fridge to see if you had anything left. Enough for the both of you, sure, but you weren’t in the mood for diet food. Picking up your phone, you wandered through the apartment to find Jeongin and ask if he wanted anything else.

You found him in his room, and without bothering to knock, you walked right in. Big mistake. He was in nothing but his underwear, sorting through a pile of dirty clothes before heading to the shower. The sight hit you harder than you cared to admit. Fuck. You pretended to be unfazed.

“How about knocking next time?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, sweetheart. And please, you had your face buried between my legs last night—don’t act shy now. I’m ordering food. Want anything?”

“You’re the one acting weird. But yeah, order me some pasta.”

“I’m not being weird.”

You avoided looking directly at him, scrolling on your phone to place the order, but then you realized you were still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Gross. You needed a shower, but of course, he got there first.

When he finally came out, the lingering smell of his shampoo hit you. God, it was so good you were tempted to use it yourself.

Your shower was long. You scrubbed every inch of your body, all the while plotting exactly how to tease him next. Last night felt so natural, so right. You wanted more, and you were sure he did too. But jumping right into it? That wasn’t your style. Where was the fun in that?

After drying off, you picked out the tiniest dress you could find. You did put on panties—for now. There were still things to get done around the apartment.

Jeongin grabbed the delivery bags, and the two of you sat down to eat in silence—at least until he started complaining about the smell of your cleaning products, saying it was too sweet.

“You can buy different ones if you want, but I like the smell.” You finished your lunch and stood up to toss the trash.

“I don’t like anything sweet.”

“Hm, so if I put some chocolate topping on my body, you wouldn’t lick it?” The intrusive thought slipped out before you could stop it. Shit, you definitely hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve done that with someone before.”

“Never have. But in that case… I might make an exception.” His expression shifted, and you became painfully aware of the way your panties clung to you. The tension between you was thick, delicious.

“Good to know,” you muttered, trying to play it off. “So, any plans today?”

“Nah, I was supposed to go to a bar with some people from college, but I’m tired of going out. You?”

“Not going out either. Thinking about watching something.”

“Want some company? I can make popcorn.”

You went to the living room with a Diet Coke while Jeongin handled the popcorn. Such a sweetie. Settling on the couch, you leaned against the armrest and propped your legs up on the coffee table. It was still early afternoon, but your mind was already racing with ideas. You knew exactly how to drive him crazy—you were just waiting for the right moment.

“We have a break next week, right?” he asked, sitting beside you with the popcorn bowl between his legs.

“Yeah, they’ve been bugging me about visiting.”

“Staying the whole week?”

“Maybe. If I can put up with it.” You rolled your eyes, already dreading the inevitable comments about your new piercings. “I got my ear and belly pierced. Pretty sure they’re going to give me hell for it.”

“You can hide them under clothes, can’t you?” He chuckled, sipping his Coke, looking almost too cute.

“It’s going to be hot, and I want to use the pool.” You ran your fingers through your hair, thinking about the hassle. “But we’ll see. Depends on how much patience I have that day. Maybe they won’t even care—might’ve already given up on me. But you? You’re their golden boy. If only they knew…”

“Knew what?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I think they already figured out I’m not a virgin. Your mom’s so nosy, always snooping around my stuff. She must’ve seen the condoms by now.”

“But they don’t know you’ve got a thing for catching your ladies in rest homes, right? Double your age, Jeongin. And let’s not forget the things you do with your ‘sis’...”

Jeongin burst out laughing, and you couldn’t help but join him. The two of you laughed so hard that tears streamed down your face as you struggled to catch your breath.

“You can’t say much!” He playfully slapped your thigh. “If they knew you walk around here without panties just to tease me and flash your pussy, you’d be in just as much trouble.”

“I told you, they’ve already given up on me. They’d probably just drag you out of here, scared I’m corrupting you…”

“Too late for that.”

“Yeah…” Your body felt hot again, and your panties were soaked. Fuck. Why did this keep happening? The chemistry between you two was insane—palpable, even when there wasn’t any physical contact. Just being near him was enough to set you off. “I’ll be right back. Don’t pause the movie.”

In your room, you opened the closet and grabbed your box of toys. Among the collection of butt plugs, you chose a medium one with a pink heart-shaped jewel at the base—it was the prettiest. Heading to the bathroom with the plug and some lube, you left the rest scattered on your bed.

After washing the plug, you applied the lube and arched your back, carefully pressing it against your rim. You eased it in slowly, relaxing the muscle as you pushed, but it wasn’t difficult—it slid in easily because you were already so damn horny. Tossing your soaked panties into the laundry basket, you caught a glimpse of the wet stain and couldn’t help but stare for a moment. Jeongin had no idea how deeply he got under your skin. Hell, even you didn’t fully understand how he affected you like this. But you were having fun, and that was all that mattered.

When you returned to the living room, you sat back on the couch, keeping your expression neutral even though the plug shifted with every movement of your hips, driving you crazy. Jeongin glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. He was already suspicious.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing. Just washed my hands.”

He didn’t press further, so you both kept watching the movie. The popcorn was gone, as was the Diet Coke. You offered to grab some beers, standing up and feeling how sticky your thighs were from your arousal. The plug remained a constant presence, amplifying every sensation.

Handing Jeongin a can, you sat down again. The movie was halfway through, and the daylight outside was starting to fade. By the time it ended, you’d both had at least three beers each. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you’d been waiting to do.

“Want another?” you asked, standing up and making sure he was watching as you leaned over to pick up the empty cans from the coffee table. Your dress was just short enough to reveal everything underneath, and by his silence, you knew he’d noticed the plug in your ass. Arching your back a little more, you glanced over your shoulder to find Jeongin completely frozen, staring.

“What? See something you like?”

You had no idea what his reaction would be, but you didn’t have to wait long. In just a few seconds, Jeongin came back to life. He turned off the TV, stood, and hoisted you onto his shoulder like you weighed nothing. Laughing, you let him carry you to your room, where he tossed you onto the bed.

“So this was your plan,” he muttered, his eyes locking onto your box of toys. In no time, his hands were all over it, rummaging through and pulling out your favorite vibrator. You could see the outline of his hard cock through his shorts, especially when he squeezed himself for you to watch.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” he said, voice low and commanding. “You’re gonna pay for all that teasing.”

“Less talking, more action. Show me what you’ve got.”

“I’m not that inexperienced anymore, you know.” He smirked, turning the vibrator on to check the battery. The memory of when you’d teased him about being a virgin flashed in your mind, making you grin. “Spread those legs for me.”

Already lying on your back, you pulled your dress up and did as he said, teasing your clit and entrance with your fingers to show him just how wet you were. Then you held your slick fingers up, biting your lower lip as his eyes darkened.

Jeongin knelt between your legs and brought the vibrator to your mouth, silently urging you to suck. You did, keeping eye contact the whole time. Once it was wet enough, he pulled it away and rubbed it against your clit, teasing you before slowly sliding it to your entrance.

“You’re dripping…” he murmured, turning the vibrator on and pushing it inside. It slid in effortlessly, but the sensation made you arch your back. “So fuckin’ tight with the plug in…”

Your eyes locked on his, and you struggled to hold back your moans, desperate to keep some composure. But when he leaned down to kiss you, his fingers working your clit as the toy buzzed inside you, it was game over.

Dragging your hands down his body, you reached his waistband and pulled down his shorts, freeing his cock. It was thick, slick with precum, and as you gripped it, you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how wrecked you’d be when he was done with you.

You stayed like that for what felt like forever—kissing, touching, and teasing each other. Jeongin’s cock throbbed in your hand, but no matter how close you got to the edge, he refused to let you finish. Every time you neared your orgasm, he would stop the vibrations, leaving you desperate.

Frustrated, you squeezed his cock a little harder, stroking him faster and pressing your thumb against the tip—a silent plea for him to give you more.

Jeongin finally tossed the vibrator aside and replaced it with his fingers, thrusting them into you with precision. The way he moved made your back arch, and a loud moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“I can feel the plug in your ass…” His voice was low, a growl against your neck as his hot breath sent shivers down your spine. You stroked him even harder, his precum slicking your hand. “Tsk, tsk… I’m not finishing in your hands, baby. You’re going to pick a hole for me to fill with my cum.”

His filthy words sent a shockwave through your body, making you clench around his fingers. He noticed instantly and pulled them out, smirking when you whined from the loss.

“What a dirty mouth…”

“You clenched so hard. I know you loved it.” His lips found your neck again, his teeth grazing before he bit down, sucking the skin until your entire body shivered under his touch. His fingers teased your clit, drawing you closer to madness.

“You didn’t say what you like that day,” he murmured, referencing a past conversation you had about kinks with him, “so I’ll just have to figure it out myself.”

You rolled your hips against his hand, desperate for relief, but when he noticed, he pulled away again. His palm came down hard on your clit, a sharp slap that echoed in the room. You screamed—not from pain, but from the sharp jolt of pleasure.

“So, you like this too…” Another slap followed, then another, each one pushing you further into the haze of arousal. By the time the sting turned into pain, you were already losing your grip on reality.

“Edging isn’t my favorite,” you snapped, your voice tinged with frustration. Jeongin slid his fingers back into you, curling them expertly to hit that sweet spot that made you melt.

“Yeah?” His smirk was maddening. “Then I won’t hold you back anymore, but you’re cumming on my cock, not my fingers.”

He knelt between your legs, stroking himself slowly as he admired the way you sprawled out for him. His gaze burned into you, intense and possessive. When he pulled off his shirt, revealing his glistening, sweat-slicked torso, your breath caught.

“Where do you keep the condoms?” he asked, his voice gruff as he kept stroking his cock, precum glistening at the tip.

“Already fucked raw before?”

“Never.”

You slid a hand down to your pussy, spreading your lips wide open for him, teasing him with the same gesture you’d used days ago in the kitchen.

“Then come here. I wanna be your first.”

His eyes darkened, his gaze so intense it made you flush. But embarrassment was fleeting, replaced by a deep ache for him. You lifted your legs slightly, giving him a clear view of the plug still buried in your ass.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut… drives me crazy.”

Jeongin leaned in, aligning himself with your entrance. His cock throbbed against your slick folds as he braced himself on his arms, his muscles flexing as beads of sweat traced down his skin.

“I always knew I’d have you begging for me like this.”

Before you could answer, he thrust into you with one smooth motion, filling you completely. The stretch was overwhelming, deliciously painful, and the pleasure coursed through you in waves. He gave you no time to adjust, setting a relentless rhythm as his breath fanned over your neck.

You cried out, a mix of pain and ecstasy, and clung to him, your nails dragging down his back as you relished his weight pressing against you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue dominating yours, his hips pounding against you in a way that left no room for thought.

Lifting your legs higher, you let him bury himself deeper, the plug adding a tightness that drove both of you wild. The vibration of his moans against your lips sent sparks through your body as you scratched his back, pouring all your pent-up frustration into him.

Jeongin grinned against your mouth, increasing his pace until the bed creaked beneath you. Desperate, you reached for your clit, rubbing it sloppily. Within seconds, your orgasm hit hard, making your body quake as you clenched around him. Tears of pleasure filled your eyes as you fell apart beneath him, it was insane.

He stilled, staying buried deep inside you as he watched you come undone.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice reverent. “Tight and wet… all for me.”

As you caught your breath, your legs went limp, trembling from the intensity. Jeongin kissed your neck softly, then moved to your lips, his cock still throbbing inside you.

“I almost came with you…” he admitted, his voice husky. Slowly, he started to move again, his hips rolling in a steady, deliberate rhythm.

“Why are you holding back?” you whispered against his lips, feeling the sting of the marks you’d left on his back.

“Because there’s more I wanna do with you. Or are you going to tell me that plug was just to tease me?”

“It was…” You smirked, your breath hitching as his thrusts deepened. “But then I got really horny.”

You knew exactly what those few words would do to him. You felt the way his cock twitched inside you, how impossibly hard he was. Jeongin was just as affected by your words as you were by his.

“We can take care of that…” He kissed you again, biting your lower lip before slowly sliding his cock out of you. The emptiness made you whimper softly, already missing him.

Jeongin leaned back against the headboard, settling himself with an air of control that made your thighs clench involuntarily. Without a word, he gestured for you to come closer, curling his long, elegant fingers—those damn fingers. You obeyed, kneeling beside him, your heartbeat quickening when he grabbed your hair and not so gently pulled you down toward his cock. His smile, framed by those damn dimples, was maddening.

You chuckled softly, loving the way he handled you without needing instructions, knowing exactly what you wanted before you said anything. Positioning yourself on all fours, you steadied yourself on his thighs, preparing to take him in your mouth.

As you leaned down, Jeongin’s hand found your ass, gripping it roughly enough to leave marks. He smoothed his palm over your skin, only to slide down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. The dual sensation made you moan, the sound vibrating against his cock as you licked a stripe from base to tip, tasting yourself on him.

You stroked him slowly, letting him glide past your lips, feeling him stretch your cheeks from inside your mouth. The weight and taste of him made you hum in satisfaction as you started sucking gently, teasing him with soft, deliberate motions. You didn’t want him to cum yet, you wanted to savor this. You were loving to suck him off like that.

“Fuck, you're so good at this…” he groaned, brushing your hair out of the way so he could watch you. His voice sent a shiver through you, and you clenched around nothing, your arousal dripping onto your thighs. “Yeah, spit on it—makes it go in so easy…”

He wasn’t idle, either. Jeongin’s fingers toyed with the plug in your ass, twisting it and pulling it just enough to stretch you further before sliding it back in. The teasing was maddening, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your overstimulated body.

You paused, panting against his cock, overwhelmed by the sensations.

“Seeing how much you’re enjoying this is killing me,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I’m not gonna last 10 seconds when I fuck this tight hole…”

He pushed the plug out and replaced it with his fingers, sliding them in slowly. You moaned as he worked you open, his movements precise and unhurried, building your anticipation.

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore. How do you want me?”

You pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, his fingers still deep inside you, making your hips jerk against his hand. “All fours, spoon, top, bottom…” You licked your lips, letting the tension build. “Pick one. I love all of them.”

“Hm, yeah? Then I wanna be on top.” He guided you onto your back, spreading your legs wide as he knelt between them. His gaze roamed over you, his smirk deepening when he saw how wet you were. “So I can see that slutty face while I rail you.”

“Fuck, Jeongin… everything you say makes my pussy drip,” you admitted, your body responding immediately to his filthy words.

“I know,” he replied, smugly.

Grabbing the lube, he slicked his cock generously before looking at you with a hunger that made your skin flush. “Spread your ass for me, love.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed, your mind too clouded with lust to care about anything else. His lubed fingers circled your hole, easing you open as he prepared to take you.

“Ready?”

“Just fuck me, please.”

His grin widened, and the intensity of his gaze melted you completely. You reached for your clit, desperate for relief, as he pushed into you slowly. The stretch burned at first, but the pain quickly gave way to an intoxicating fullness as he seated himself completely inside you.

You’d been worried before—about letting him fuck your ass, about whether he’d know what he was doing—but fuck, you’d been so wrong. Jeongin proved he was more than capable, he was indeed well trained. He stayed still, giving you time to adjust, his lips soothing you with soft kisses along your neck and shoulders.

Your dress, still bunched around your waist, became a nuisance. With trembling hands, you pulled it off, leaving you completely naked before him for the first time.

Jeongin’s eyes darkened as he watched you undress. Leaning forward, he took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue in slow circles while he began to move his hips. His thrusts were deep and measured, every inch of him filling you perfectly. He really knew how he supposed to fuck you, and it was so hot and good…

“Oh fuck, you're taking my cock so well…” he groaned, biting and sucking at your nipple until it popped free from his mouth. “Not gonna last, fuck.”

“Me neither…” You panted, your fingers working your throbbing clit as the tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter. “You just put it in, and I wanna cum already.”

“Cum. I wanna feel how tight you’ll get. Give it to me.”

His movements stayed controlled, his thrusts deliberate, but you could feel his restraint slipping. You couldn’t hold back, rubbing your clit faster and fucking your pussy with two fingers, chasing your high.

Desperate for more, you grabbed Jeongin’s hand and guided it to your neck, silently pleading. He understood immediately, wrapping his fingers around your throat and applying just enough pressure to make your vision blur. The added intensity pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave, so overwhelming that tears spilled down your cheeks. Your body shook violently, your cries choked by his grip as you clenched around his cock, squeezing him impossibly tight.

Jeongin groaned loudly, his rhythm faltering. Letting go of your neck, he gripped your breasts, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.

“Give it to me, I wanna see you filling me up like you told me you’d do.”

Jeongin groaned loudly as his release overtook him, his cock twitching deep inside you. His thrusts slowed, becoming lazy and uneven until he stilled completely. With a final moan, he let his weight drop onto you, his warm, sweaty body pressing against yours.

“You’re fuckin perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, still catching his breath. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, where he placed another soft kiss, his lips lingering on your skin.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, a tender gesture that felt almost too intimate after what had just happened. As his cock softened and slid out of you, leaving a mix of both your fluids dripping down your thighs, you shivered slightly but didn’t move to clean up.

“I know,” you replied with a teasing smirk, though your voice was soft and your body still buzzing from the aftershocks.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tangled together in comfortable silence, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. It felt… good. Too good. A quiet intimacy settled between you, one that you weren’t entirely sure how to handle. It scared you—how natural it felt, how safe you were in his arms. It had been the best sex of your life, but you weren’t about to admit that to him. He was cocky enough as it was.

Jeongin eventually fell asleep beside you, his body warm and bare against yours. The sheets were a mess, sticky with the remnants of your crime, but you didn’t care. When you woke in the middle of the night, his arm was draped over your waist, holding you close. His slow, steady breathing tickled the back of your neck, and for a moment, you felt something stir in your chest—something warm, peaceful, and dangerously unfamiliar.

You tried to push it away, refusing to entertain the possibility of what it could mean. But his presence was disarming. The way he held you made you feel weak in a way you didn’t hate.

Your thoughts started to spiral. What would happen if someone found out about this? About you and him? You weren’t blood, but your family would never accept it. The mere idea was a disaster waiting to happen. You weren’t even sure why you were thinking about it so much—why you cared at all.

Jeongin shifted in his sleep, pulling you even closer and squeezing your waist lightly. The weight of his arm and the warmth of his body melted your resistance, and you let out a soft sigh. Whatever this was, whatever it meant, it wasn’t a problem for tonight.

You’d worry about it if—when—you had to. For now, you let the comfort of his embrace lull you back to sleep, your concerns fading into the quiet darkness.

[ryukjunghwa]

From the kitchen table, Jung could hear Hayden's playful banter with Agi and couldn’t help but smile to herself as she continued scribbling down a memory that had come to her. It was a quiet kind of comfort, hearing Hayden talk to the animals like they were longtime roommates. There was something grounding about it, normal, soft, real. She peeked toward the living room for a moment, watching Hayden interact with Agi and Duke like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way she gently scolded Agi and laughed at Duke’s unbothered self-grooming made the space feel more like a home than anywhere Jung had been in a long time. Jung shook her head fondly, muttering to herself as she wrote, “Agi gets mad when she changes the channel. Like a feathery old man yelling about remote control rights.” She paused, then added with a soft smile, “Hayden makes this place feel safe in weird ways. Even with the chaos.” Her hand hovered over the page, then she underlined it once. That sentence felt right. She’d finish a bit more, then go join them, but for now, she kept writing, warmed by the small sounds of life drifting in from the living room.

Daydreaming - @ryukjunghwa - Jung-Hwa x Hayden *CLOSED RP*

Hayden had been back in Korea for about a year now, things had been chaotic over the past few years and she was finally coping in healthier ways, though life was still full of ups and downs she was doing alright and trying to make the best of it. She was celebrating 6 and a half months off hard drugs and was having a drink at her favorite bar when she decided to find a place to sit and just people watch, she had mostly cut herself off from her friends as they were all bad influences and led to a lot of her substance abuse issues so she was alone during this time but by now she was used to it and didn't mind it much anymore. She was sipping her drink and scrolling on her phone when a rather boldly dressed girl walked up. She sets her phone down on the table and sits back crossing her legs casually “You visited me in my dreams last night.“ Hayden simply listened to her attempt at a pickup line then laughed softly "Well I'm sorry that I turned your dream into a nightmare. May I order you a drink as compensation?" she motioned for the lady to sit if she wanted.

[landoscarinthefastlane]

No space to breathe without you (part 2) - Landoscar

Summary: After Oscar’s move to Red Bull Racing, Lando struggles with the loss of their closeness, feeling the absence of Oscar deeply despite Carlos Sainz’s comforting return to McLaren. One evening, while Lando sleeps exhausted in his motorhome, Oscar visits him, quietly seeking the connection they both miss.

Note⚠️: Contains soft boys falling asleep on each other, surprise Carlos cameos, and the undeniable truth that some bonds survive even navy-blue betrayals.

Oscar wraps his arms around him tightly, like he doesn’t want to let go either, and for a moment, everything else falls away. No contracts. No teams. No rivalries. Just them—raw and real and impossibly close.

But the world doesn’t stop turning, and a few weeks later, everything changes.

Oscar’s transfer to Red Bull Racing had become the headline of every motorsport outlet across the globe. Pictures of him in the navy-blue suit, standing beside Max Verstappen and Christian Horner, were everywhere. He looked... happy. Confident. Like he belonged there.

And Lando hated it.

Not because he wasn’t proud—God, he was proud—but because every glimpse of Oscar in those dark colors felt like a thousand tiny cuts he couldn’t stop from bleeding.

Meanwhile, change was sweeping through McLaren too. After Ferrari had unceremoniously shifted Carlos Sainz aside to make room for Lewis Hamilton, Papaya had opened their arms to Carlos again. It was strange at first, a blast from the past. McLaren’s garage buzzed with the new-old energy Carlos brought, but it didn’t fill the Oscar-shaped hole in Lando’s chest.

Even when he loved Carlos so, so much.

It was after the first few practice sessions of the season when Lando finally found himself cornered by Carlos in the McLaren motorhome.

Carlos leaned casually against the table, sipping from a water bottle. His easygoing demeanor couldn’t hide the knowing look in his eyes.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Carlos said, breaking the silence between them.

Lando chuckled humorlessly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Feels like it.”

Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “It’s weird, no? Seeing him in navy blue. Next to Max. Like it’s always been that way.”

“Yeah,” Lando muttered, voice hoarse. “It’s wrong.”

Carlos gave a small, sympathetic smile. “You miss him.”

Lando didn’t bother denying it. He slumped further into the chair, feeling the full weight of everything he'd been trying to suppress. “It’s just... different. We used to share everything. Now he’s... Red Bull’s golden boy.”

Carlos sat down opposite him, his gaze softening. “He’s still Oscar, amigo. And you’re still you. Different teams don’t change that.”

Lando didn’t answer right away. He stared down at the table, fingers drumming anxiously. “Feels like it changed everything.”

Carlos clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it changed the surface. But not what's underneath.”

Lando offered a weak smile in return. It helped, a little. But not enough to fill the gnawing ache in his chest.

Carlos truly was his bestest friend.

The paddock wound down into a rare, peaceful lull. Most of the media had disappeared, and teams were hunkered down in meetings or relaxing in their motorhomes before the evening’s events.

Lando, completely drained, retreated to his motorhome and collapsed onto the couch. He barely had time to kick his shoes off before sleep dragged him under, too exhausted to care about the still-wrapped burrito abandoned on the coffee table.

He didn’t hear the soft knock on the door. Didn’t hear it open.

Oscar stood there, hesitating at the threshold. His Red Bull racesuit hung loosely around his waist, fireproofs clinging to his torso, damp with the sheen of sweat from the final practice laps. His hair was messy, cheeks flushed, and he looked tired but determined.

He spotted Lando instantly, curled up on the couch, fast asleep, his mouth parted slightly, one arm hanging off the edge like he’d passed out mid-thought.

Oscar’s heart clenched. Without really thinking, he stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind him. He dropped onto the couch beside Lando, careful not to wake him, but somehow, some part of Lando must have sensed his presence—because he stirred, blinking groggily up at him.

“Oz?” Lando mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

Oscar gave him a tired smile. “Hey.”

Lando’s hand instinctively reached out, fingers curling lightly around Oscar’s wrist like he was afraid he’d disappear if he didn’t hold onto him.

“Thought you’d be busy,” Lando whispered, blinking slowly.

Oscar shook his head, brushing his thumb lightly across Lando’s knuckles. “Wanted to see you.”

Something warm bloomed in Lando’s chest. He shifted, making room, and without a word, Oscar lowered himself down beside him, pulling Lando against his side. They fit together effortlessly, like pieces of a puzzle that had been separated too long.

Within minutes, they were both fast asleep, tangled together on the small couch, Lando’s head resting against Oscar’s shoulder, Oscar’s arm slung protectively around Lando’s waist.

Carlos, who had been sent to fetch Lando for an impromptu debrief, quietly opened the motorhome door.

He froze when he saw them.

There, fast asleep, two of the paddock’s most talked-about drivers curled into each other like they were the safest place in the world. Carlos’ lips quirked into a soft, knowing smile. He stepped back quietly, closing the door without a sound.

He figured whatever meeting they were supposed to be at could wait.

Some things—some people—deserved to have their moments.

Oscar and Lando were never going to let go of each other. Everyone knew it. Rivalry or not, they were not to be seperated. And Oscar? Oscar would always have his place in the McLaren team. Just like Carlos had all those years, driving for Ferrari.

[sapphicswph]

headcanons

pairing: bimbo!reader x billie eilish

warnings: slight smut, fluff, use of strap, 18+ only! not proof read, suggestive themes

bimbo!reader who is a bit dumb and can’t navigate without the help of billie. even though she swears she can do it herself!

bimbo!reader who loves being spoiled and peppered in kisses by billie. billie would come home with a new sexy lingerie, you would put it on and billie just couldn’t keep her hands to herself, she immediately peppered your body in kisses.

bimbo!reader who always makes them late because she would find the slightest wrong detail in her outfit or makeup, which would delay them by 5 minutes each time.

bimbo!reader who loves riding billie’s strap-on, you love the fact that you can hold billie’s hands above her head while snapping your hips up and down. you’re not even ashamed of how vocal you are in bed and billie loves it.

bimbo!reader who would keep billie in the clothing stores for hours while you’re trying on short dresses, skirts, revealing jeans or tops. billie would just agree with every outfit, “yeah that’s cute.” while she sat in the chair outside of the changing rooms. billie would grew bored after a while and would start whining but she knew she just had to keep up with it, because that meant she could take pictures of you when you’re back home and show you off. you love being pampered.

bimbo!reader who would whine and grind on billie’s lap whenever billie said no to sex, she was either working on music, playing video games or just tired. billie would cave in eventually anyways. “please baby, you just look so good… don’t you want to find out how wet i am?” you would whisper in her ear and whimper, and that’s usually the moment billie would cave in and pounce on you.

bimbo!reader who would sit beside billie while she was playing video games, trying to figure out what in the world she was doing. billie would be playing marvel rivals and you couldn’t even figure out what was going on, you would always say “what are you doing now?” “what does that do?” “it’s all going so fast, i can’t keep up.” “baby… i don’t get it.” billie didn’t even have time to answer your question before the next question came. billie would let you try playing but it always ended up with you huffing in frustration and giving up after three minutes.

billie who would pay for your nails, lashes, bags, shoes, outfits, you name it. not because you asked her to, billie would always offer and insist to pay.

bimbo!reader who is obsessed with billie’s nerdy side, she loved listening to billie yap about music or horses.

bimbo!reader who comes with billie to the studio, mostly just touching things or ask about the weird buttons. you’d grow tired of being in there all day “are you done? can we go home? i’m tired.” but it was all forgotten when billie would order you food.

bimbo!reader who would always ask billie questions, you’d look all concentrated and focused, billie could always see the cogs in your brain turning as your thoughts consumed you. you’d be asking yourself so many questions, running through every possibility before you came to a conclusion, sometimes you were right, sometimes you were wrong. either way, billie adored every second of it. she was always so patient with you, watching quietly with a sparkle in her eye while she waited for you. when most people would grow impatient and yell, she was always so gentle and sweet with you, never raising her voice, never calling you dumb.

————————��——————————————————————

i haven’t written anything in so long, but please come with requests! i’ll write about billie eilish, wanda maximoff and yellowjackets :)

[pardonmydelays]

all jokes aside, our show is in sixteen days and i've never been more anxious about anything in my entire life

[deangirlsstuff67]

Her Biggest Fan- Part 2

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Who doesn't love a good fantasy or escape from our normal lives. When Y/N started this online adventre she never dreamed it would land her smack dab in the path of her favorite actor. Is there a chance this fantasy might become reality? And will the reality live up to the fantasy?

Warnings: talk of trauma, talk about divorce, language, fluffy Jensen

Authors Note: Here's part two that you were waiting for guys! I hope you enjoy. I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

Catch up with part one here. | Masterlist

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Jay: Do you ever regret your marriage?

You get asked this question a lot. Although it’s usually by friends and family not a complete stranger you met online.

Jay’s the only client you have that knows the truth about what went down. It’s strange but you feel like he never lies to you, in return you don’t lie to him. You leave out personal details and such but he has a general idea of what went down in your life.

Me: No. sounds weird considering what happened but I don’t. For a long time we were happy and in love. We had two beautiful babies together and at the time he was everything I wanted. People grow apart, it happens. Does that make what they did right? No, but it did make getting over him a lot easier.

It’s the truth. I don’t have many regrets in life. I’ve lived it basically the way I’ve always wanted. Sure we all make mistakes, we’re human, but I wouldn’t change what happened for the world. At that time in my life my ex husband was everything I could have wanted or needed.

Those needs and wants changed as the years went on. I grew up and he basically stayed 18 years old. That led to fights and bickering, which eventually led to him chasing my best friend and her becoming the other woman.

The day he left I lost not only my husband but my friend. It sucked. But again, I wouldn’t change how it happened. She was very much not a friend if she was willing to destroy my family instead of telling him to back off when he started flirting with her.

She’s just as much to blame as he is. I do hate her more though. I’ll be waiting to watch karma kick her ass in time.

Jay: That’s what I like about you, a horrible thing happens to you and here you are looking at the good side and taking the positive from it. So many people would be shallow and vindictive.

Me: Haha don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my moments within this divorce where I wasn’t close to happy go lucky or I was screaming at her in her drive way. I ain’t no angel. But in the long run I don’t get the point in living life in misery. I’m happy with myself and my life, my kids are happier, that’s all that matters to me.

Jay: You’re a good mom you know that.

Me: Jay, baby you don’t know me.

Jay: I know enough :) from what you say, I don’t need to know you in person. People who aren’t good parents don’t talk about their kids like you do. You put your own emotions away to make sure they have a good life… trust me that isn’t a common thing.

Me: fucking should be. Why have kids if you’re gonna be selfish.

Jay: There are people out there who have kids with their partners because either they thought it would save their relationship or they believed it was what the other wanted and wanted to make them happy. There are many reasons I'm sure, I think as you do however, shouldn't have them unless you want to be a parent and enjoy the good as much as the bad fo parenthood.

Me: Sorry if this is prying too much but you sound like you are talking from experience?

Jay: Guess I am sweetheart.

Me: Would you want to talk about it?

The two of you have been chatting for months now. You've grown close, you also don't intrude into his personal life unless he brings it up himself. This is why you don't if he's married, have kids, or in general who he is.

By no means is it that you don't want to get to know him on a deeper level, at the end of the day though that isn't why most of these men pay you and you know that.

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It's Friday and your best friend is out on the farm today with her kiddos. The two of you are working on fixing some of your fencing today as the kids run like lunatics in the field.

"He's married with kids?"

"Three of them apparently."

"How do you feel about that?" I love how concerned she is for my mental health and heart. I can guarantee properly over half of my clients are married, I'm also guessing a lot of kids. The way I see OnlyFans is no diifferent than porn. Men and women use it to escape or relax for a moment.

I love her concern for me but there is no reason for it. Jay is a great distraction and escape from my hectic life. He's amazing to chat with but I'm by no means shocked he has a wife and kids.

Lighting a smoke, we take a break from the job at hand, "I'm not shocked, most of the guys I talk with probably are honestly. It's not a dating website by any means."

"He seems perfect though, just so weird to imagine him married now."

"Thats where they fantasy comes in to play girl. That's the whole point."

Your phone dings on the back of your truck.

Jay: How's fencing going darling?

Me: Good, taking a break right now. Watching the kids be crazy in the field.

Jay: So jealous right now :)

Me: Haha jealous of me sweating, arms sore from hammering in staples and stretching fencing? God what are you doing that this sounds better to you haha?

Jay: We have family over for the weekend. There isn't a moment of peace today. I am hiding in my bathroom right now.

Me: Family is nice once in a while though. I do understand the peace thing.

Jay: Family isn't the problem sweetheart.

Me: Then what is?

Jay: Umm...

.....

Moments passed and the bubbles at the bottom of the screen and disappear repeatedly before they are gone for a couple minutes.

Going back to the task at hand you can't shake the feeling that he is struggling with something much worse than he has let on in the past.

Ding.

Grabbing you're phone you are shocked when a paragraph comes through.

Jay: My marriage hasn't been the best the last couple years. We are staying together for the kids. However, we haven't shared any of the problems with anyone in our family or friends, keeping up the happy couple facade is tiring. She tries too hard to show that we love each other still when in reality for years we've been sleeping in seperate rooms, barely interacting, I throw myself into work more and more. However, divorce is tricky considering how our life is.

Wow. You weren't expecting that at all. Would explain why he had no problem opening up and getting close with you as much as texting each other daily allows.

Me: Divorce sucks no matter why it happens. Trust me I know how that feels. I also understand the drama that can come from friends and family. All I can say is if you aren't happy Jay, suffering to keep your family together for your kids sake will be more damaging for them than you and your wife being miserable together.

Jay: It goes beyond that.

Me: What do you mean?

There is a pause again after you press send. Your friend looking at you with a confused look on her face, "What's up?"

"Oh just stuff Jay and I are talking about. He's confessing some shit to me is all and I'm trying to help him as best as I can."

She doesn't press because she knows I don't tell her personal information. I share vague details or stuff that I have said to him but nothing more. You're clients pay for you to keep your mouth shut about what they say or do. Unless it's something dangerous or concerning there is no reason to run my mouth with information people trust me to keep to myself.

We are working on the last strand of fencing when your phone goes off again about 10 minutes later.

Your phone tells me its an image that has been sent.

Oh my fucking god, he is going to reveal who he is to me. You are both excited and scared to open the message. You aren't sure why he would send a photo in response to what you sent to him, but you know he has a reason for it.

Half figuring it may be a dick pic to get you both off the heavy subject and create a fun atmosphere for you to play in again. Opening his message thread, you're jaw fucking drops as you stare at your screen.

What the fuck.

No god damn way is this real.

There sitting on your texting thread is a photo of a beautiful, green eyed man with a sad smile on his face. The selfie has been taking in a bathroom, assuming it's the one he's currently hiding in.

For the past 5 months you've been playing out this fantasy in your head everytime the two of you text to one another. Dear god you've seen his cock hard, soft, leaking pre cum, and full on cumming from the images you have placed in his mind. Turns out your fantasy has been reality.

You've been getting close with Jensen Ackles... Jensen fucking Ackles pays to talk with you every freaking day. You brain miss fires as you try to understand the reality that has hit you square in the face.

Me: Wow. I'm not going to lie that was the last thing I was expecting when I opened your message. With that being said I understand what you mean about it being more complicated, that still doesn't mean that you have to live a miserable life because of who you are. Yes, you are famous. You are still just a human and you deserve to live a life full of happiness and excitement and adventures. To love someone who loves you back just as much. Someone who would be honoured to lay next to you and talk about what you did at work that day.

Jay: Does this change things between us?

Me: Fuck no! I mean we've talked about how I'm a fan of your shows, so if it does for you than I would understand. As for me, I'm going to treat you as I do normally. Hate to break it to you Jensen, you're just a guy ;)

Jay: Fuck me woman. You are incredible you know that. Most woman would find out who I am and completely freak out. They would treat me different and try so hard to impress me. You on the other hand, you humble me with one sentence haha.

Me: You're a human. You have a good job, that you are great at. You are a dad. You have good days and bad days. You are funny, smart, make dumbass choices, and live a life you want. You are like everyone else. My guess is the last thing you want is someone who has spent numours nights making you cum and seeing your cock fan girl over you.

Jay: Yeah that would be awkward. Thank you sweetheart. So I have to ask, I'm guessing -your screen name- isn't your real name, any chance I can know your actual name?

Me: It's y/n.

Jay: Beautiful name for a beautiful woman :) I should get back out there. Talk later?

Me: Of course. I'm here when you need me Jay.

Your friend left a few hours later. You made supper for your kids and dropped them off with your ex husband for the weekend. By the time you got home Jensen has messaged you again. You can't fight the smile that crosses your face when his name pops up on your screen.

You never thought your fantasy would ever become a reality.

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Read Part Three Here

Taglist:

@impala67rollingthroughtown @bitchykittenconnoisseur @deansimpalababy @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lessons-of-red @spnaquakindgdom @yvonneeeee @syrma-sensei @nancymcl @tspmoff @idontwannabehere78 @foxyjwls007 @senjoritanana @leigh70 @neii3n @maggiegirl17 @jamerlynn @mostlymarvelgirl @kimxwinchester @multiversefanfics @supershygirl @justwhisperingfantasies

[mocury-moto]

okokok so this is definitely the most weirdly specific question ive ever asked but does anyone know if the symmetrical worm enemies in terraria (eater of worlds, destroyer, bone serpent, etc.) flip to stay upright in the same way the asymmetrical ones (wyvern, blood eel, and phantasm dragon) do and we just cant tell bc their designs are symmetrical

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

hi! a month almost to the day (of me sending this ask) you mentioned a lovely author by the name of kurt vonnegut. a few days ago i managed to find a copy of slaughterhouse five (a feat; english books in thrift shops are hard to come by here) and read the entire thing in two days while at work.

wow??! im… wow. wow, i need to find the rest of his books, like, yesterday. i think i understand when you said it changed how you approached writing, because it certainly has for me.

thank you for the recommendation, even if it was unintentional!

So like, as my Lore Reveal, I worked a sonic drive in when I was in high school. Anyone who has ever worked at a sonic drive in will tell you it is destructive to human existence and nothing good comes from it. Except it’s where I first got recommended Kurt Vonnegut, so one good thing came from it. Someone also ran over my foot while I was working there and they tried to make me finish the shift, so I think it cancels out to a net zero.

Kurt Vonnegut changed pretty much everything about how I think about stories. He did things with his narratives that I didn’t even know you were allowed to do. I cannot recommend his books highly enough. I’m so glad you found him too!