#apart from my ex fuck her she can go die !!

[fingertipsmp3]

So basically I’ve had one of those mornings that makes you want to scream into a pillow. And this afternoon I have a meeting lol

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[drewsbraziliangf]

nothing to say when heaven falls | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when the person that’s supposed to understand and be on your side chooses to doubt your fears?

Word count: 1388

a/n: not edited, we die like soldiers!!!!! pls let me know if you wish to be added to my taglist

"How can't you see how disrespectful this is to me, Drew?" You ask with a strained voice and teary eyes. "Everywhere you go she's looming like a shadow."

"She's my friend, what do you want me to do?" Exasperated, he asks.

"I don't know. Maybe tell her that your fiancé doesn't feel comfortable with her following you around, traveling abroad to see you or fuck, being all fucking touchy and handsy with you in public."

My throat was burning as the words slipped my mouth but I simply couldn't avoid it any longer. I am so tired of this whole situation and it has been going on for far too long. I just can't hold it back anymore.

"Can't exactly tell her what to do," he rolled his eyes this time.

"Really? Am I really asking for that much?" I look at the man in front of me with disbelief, "I just want to feel like I'm not invisible in my own goddamn relationship. She sees you more than I do and I am the one with a ring on my finger. How is this fair?" 

"Babe, listen, there's nothing going on between me and her. You have to believe me," he pleads as he runs his hands through his hair.

"You don't think I'm trying to believe you? I'm in the trenches everyday telling myself this over and over again, but how can I turn a blind eye to it when the first thing I see whenever I'm online is that you're both coincidently in the same city. For the millionth time."

I know that pulling this out in the open this way isn't the best option. But how could I keep bottling all of this up when it's causing such a heavy pain in my chest every time I see their names together?

It was always clear the perks of dating a public figure and I never backed out on it. Now seeing the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him and have his babies walking around with the woman everyone swears he was romantically involved with is messed up.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he admits as he walks away from me.

That felt like a punch. Because how could I make it anymore obvious? Do I have to draw it to a thirty year old why he should respect the woman he chose to propose to? 

“Are you for real right now?” I asked as I follow him into the kitchen of our shared apartment. “Did you really just said that to me, Joseph?”

At this point it felt like there was no going back anymore, either this was going to be totally fixed here or it wouldn’t at all. The bandaid was ripped and the wound was open and burning.

“How can you be so dull? You really can’t see what the problem here is?” 

I watch as he fills a glass with water and turns his back to me. He did it twice already. The off white walls of the kitchen lacked the warm they always brought when we were in it together. It felt claustrophobic and like the roof was going to fall over our heads at any given minute.

“You’re acting like I’m cheating on you. Like this is some major fuck up. It isn’t, you’re turning it into something it isn’t.” His tone was cold but looking at his posture it was clear that he was trying to maintain his calm.

The condescending tone in his voice made me want to shrink into myself and hide away from the world.

“Oh, right. Yeah, blame it on me for thinking that my fiancé going out of his way to be with his ex fuck buddy isn’t normal.”

“Careful,” he warns once finally looks at me.

“Or what, Drew? What else could you possibly do that will make me feel worse than I already do?” I challenge, my gaze locked on him as I wait.

After a few minutes of us staring down at each other, he shakes his head and sighs. 

“I’m not doing whatever this is. I’m done entertaining this,” he declares and he leans against the countertop.

Drew and I met around two years ago through a mutual friend. We instantly hit off and after a few dates, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend - which I obviously accepted. We had this instant connection that isn’t common. At first I was terrified of it, I knew who he was and the fact that his life was always being scrutinized by thousands of people. I knew what people said online about him and as we got closer and closer I couldn’t help but lose myself in the speculations about him even more.

Our relationship was great and we always made sure that each others boundaries were respected, so color me stoked to be in this situation right now. I am not dumb and every single day there is a needle pinching me making me think of stuff and situations like the one we find ourselves right now just indulge those thoughts.

In the early days of our relationship we made sure there were no secrets between us and past relationships. I knew I was his first black girlfriend, I knew he was born and raised in the South too. So joining that and the fact that I am an immigrant did make me scared of a lot of things, the main of them being the fact that it isn’t uncommon at all for men to always find their way back to that they are used to. 

So seeing her upon him all the time while people online barely know about our relationship feels like hell. Because even though I’m in family pictures that his sisters post online, and the very visible ring on my finger I am never considered the option of being his significant other. She is. Every single time. And he never did anything about it - hell, he never even set boundaries with her and she knows that we’re together. Am I really reading too much into things? 

Being three months away from our wedding day, this isn’t the kind of thought or conversations I would like to be having. I should be fucking excited and dress hunting, but lately the only thing that I feel like doing is swallowing lumps and holding back tears, faking smiles and pretending I’m fine. I’m not, I’m fucking falling apart and I’m so tired of begging to be seen. 

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I am not comfortable with this and that you shouldn’t be either,” I point out as the first tear cross the edges of my cheeks. “I don’t know how else to ask you to respect our relationship.”

“I respect our relationship, I always did. I just don’t think that what you’re saying right now makes any sense. Whatever I had with her in the past is over.” He says as he runs one of his hands through his face.

“Drew, honey, you’re not seeing things from my point of view. Imagine if it was me catching planes every other day to be with someone that I was involved in with in the past. And all of our friends know that you and I are together. How would that make you feel?”

At that he says nothing but silence can mean many things, and in this case it means consent. 

Tired of this back in forth conversation, I reach for my phone that was besides his on the counter and as if the timing couldn’t be more right, the screen of his phone lights up with an incoming call. No surprise flashes through my features as I see the picture on the caller id, both of them in a mirror picture as they brush their teeth.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess watching as he reaches for his phone quickly declining the call. “Not when you’re up to your eyeballs into whatever this is. I’ll make the calls tomorrow and cancel the dates with the venue.”

I grab my phone and my purse and I walk towards the front door before he can say anything else, I’m closing it behind me. 

[sugudoe]

᭡ ★ ׁ ׅ SUCH A TEASER! ⠀ׂ⠀⠀⠀ .⠀⠀─┈

. ֺ﹢ synopsis: ex-husband!nanami that filled for divorce under the idea he could die at any moment, and didn’t wanted you to suffer. four months later, after his injuries from shibuya, he is forced to retire, now the only thing he wants is having you back. before anything, you decide to get your little revenge on him.

. ֺ﹢ content: SMUT ╱ angst! and crack! ╱nanami is a bit of an asshole ╱ stimulation ╱ oral (fem!receiving) ╱ too much swearing ╱ no protection ╱ teasing ╱ face sitting ╱ mating press ╱ handcuff (male) ╱ good ending ╱ after shibuya ╱ burned!nanami ╱ english is not my first language.

. ֺ﹢ a. note: @emilyywhyy. another nanami smut, i’m feeling degenerate and happy. this one made me giggle and curl my toes, i want to be his little wife so bad! divider.

. ֺ﹢ wc: 6.k oopsie.

The brown pointy shoes of Nanami kept knocking on the wood floor repeatedly, mimicking the rhythm of his expensive watch — a gift you gave him on your first year together. It was supposed to be placed in the box of things to return to you, but Kento could only ever start to fill said box if his heart was put in there as well.

Nanami knew he was a fucked up man for many reasons. Firstly, he had given himself the nickname “Time-Bomb”, as in meant to explode — die — and have his remains hitting everyone in proximity. And secondly, despite all of that and his need to avoid hurting others with his eminent death, he still fell for you and build this relationship, the one he also broke up four months ago.

The blonde was also fucked in the head, anyone would tell him. Divorces are the aftermath of lack of love and trust, or uncountable fights, and yet, none of that applied to his two years long marriage to you. It was all perfect, balanced, the respect and affection you had for each-other was out of this world.

Nevertheless, his fears spoke loud, and made him act on autopilot.

You noticed how different he started to act when a boy, who you would encounter multiple times, had eaten a finger. You weren’t a sorcerer, had absolutely no idea what any of this meant, but the weight of the situation was noticed on your husband’s shoulders and yours, as well. The hours started to count down, and when it hit zero, life turned around.

Kento presented the divorce papers to you with a letter, wet eyes and as many “I’m sorry” the man could say before he turned around and left your shared home.

For someone who always presented themselves as smart and calculated, Nanami acted on impulse, and the gods seem to be punishing him even further now — inside this cubicle of an office, toasted coffee being gulped by his dry throat, he keeps burning himself after every sip, on purpose.

“Can you repeat that, again, please?” Kento puts the now empty mug on the wooden table, his green glasses are resting against the ceramic plate and he grabs it, staring at it to avoid looking at the male in front of him.

“Nanami.” Yaga sighed, hands scratching his beard. “You are no longer needed in this fucked up world. Look at your burns, you sacrificed enough! Now go home to your wife and retire in that country you always talk about — Thailand, isn’t it?”

“Malaysia.” The blonde corrects, before adjusting the sunglasses on his face.

“What’s the problem?” Yaga asks, although he doesn’t seem really into whatever it’s going on. “Problems in paradise?”

“Something like that.” Kento shifts on the chair, opening more of his legs, and letting his arms rest on it. “I fucked up with her. I thought something would happen, so I gave her the divorce papers and moved back to that old apartment.”

“You always fuck up when you think too much.” The older man sighs, piercing gaze hurting Nanami. “Let me guess, boy, you thought that death was coming and decided to spare her the pain?” At Kento’s nod, Yaga laughed with disdain. “She would still be in pain with your loss even if she hated you, but I doubt she does. Have she signed it?”

“No, we haven’t.” Nanami gets up from the leather seat and walked towards the only window in the room, lighting trespassing and reaching his wet face. “At any moment I fear the papers will come with her handwrite in it.”

“How long has it been?”

“Four months, it feels like years, though.” Kento looks over his shoulder.

“I bet it fucking does.” Yaga comes closer, strong hands dipping Nanami’s shoulder. “If she didn’t sign it yet, maybe there is a chance. Unfortunately, you will have to crawl on dirt and kiss the floor she walks to get her back.”

It’s a thought Kento avoided to have, he felt selfish to put you away and try to come back into your life, after all the pain. Like breaking a vase and messily fixing it with hot glue, he could burn the two of you again. Although, if Yaga was right, if there was a possibility you might be waiting for him, he should grab it. Right? It felt like all the types of right and wrong.

“I have to go.” Nanami walks towards the door, waving a quick goodbye.

“If you fuck up again, Kento, she’ll burn you herself.”

Nanami’s first stop was to a flower shop, and with the help of an old lady, he made the bouquet with clear intentions — violets for faithfulness, myrtle for marriage and red roses for love. A letter would accompany it, explaining the meaning with his own words.

❛❛ My darling,

if you find it in your interests to listen to this fool man, i will use your time with caution and care to explain of my wrongdoings with us and our marriage. it was never a question of lack of love, for even separated, it has always been growing for you and you only. our union is still sacred in my heart, and will always be. please, darling, reach to me if you so wish to know of the truth and let me beg for forgiveness. i’ll do anything.

with love, your Kento. ❜❜

And after the paying and a gentle tip, Nanami left the flower shop with a less heavy breathing, but an even more heavier heart.

Reaching his old apartment, one he had bought with his first salary as a sorcerer, he instantly missed the warm you had always brought whenever he stepped through the door and was engulfed in a hug, or had a spoon is his mouth with the dinner you were preparing. The cold lights of the living room and his small sofa would have to do for now, the sun was setting down and you were nowhere near the windows telling him how pretty orange and pink mix in the sunset, and Nanami would say they blend better reflected in your face.

Kento missed it so much. Your doll eyes shining bright staring up at him, the moonstruck smile in your wet lips, begging for him to kiss you. Fuck, your lips! Always the perfect match to his. Nanami also missed the feeling of them wrapped around his cock, how deep you could go and the thickness did not scared you. A single minute of this image in his head, and soon his scarred hand would be touching himself over his pants.

Like many nights before, he did the stupid routine of bringing his dick out, trying to massage it up and down, pressing when feeling like it. Nanami closed his eyes, throwing his head back and moaning quietly your name. Easily, he was too close, but as divine punishment, he never came. The pleasure would go away as quickly as it approached, making him grow desperate.

Four months without your presence, your mouth and your pussy. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, and in a desperate thought he wished he had burned more, maybe for his precautions of life to had been right.

What was he doing? Thinking of death, when you’re still out there, yet to receive his flowers, yet to reach him. Nanami grumbled and sweared as he got up and went to take a cold shower.

On the other side of the town, you had come home from work with an expensive looking bouquet in your arms. It smelled divine and putrid at the same time — of course, this came from your psychological warfare after reading the letter.

How could he do this? And how could he do this only now?

You wanted to cry and throw the flowers on your fireplace, and at the same time you had the urge to keep all the petals alive for in a way, a part of him would always be near you. The divorce papers greeted you like a sad lover every time you came home, it had not yet been removed from the place Kento placed it.

It was empty of your name as much as it was of his. Let me be a fool, you told it silently, and believe he still wants me.

You had only an imagination about the reason for your fairytale life to be brought down with reality. Not allowing yourself to drown in a pity party of believing he had cheated or fell out of love, but gods does it not make it a bit better? To think he left because he should, and not because he felt like he would die. You wanted Nanami alive and well with the same intensity you wanted him by your side.

Unfortunately, you have never been selfish, had you tried and clawed his torso, maybe he would have stayed. Instead, you allowed your husband to leave and drank two bottles of wine with vanilla ice cream.

You felt pathetic while opening a new bottle, and allowing your tears to smear your makeup while eyeing the flowers. Nanami had always been so thoughtful, anything he grants you was drowned in love. Still, he left you. Still, you miss him so much you could have him back right now, pretending these months never happened. With a drowsy hiccup and wobbling legs, you grab your phone and call him.

And he doesn’t pick up.

You sober up instantly, throwing the phone on the couch and raising your hands to your lips. Now you know you’re pathetic, and your drunk self needs a shower.

When you return to your living room with puffy eyes and a red silk pajama, you try to trick yourself into not staring at your phone. It takes you three more sips of the same wine you opened earlier, for your patience to run thin and unlock the cellphone.

There is a message.

Y/n, not love or darling. Maybe Kento is holding himself back, maybe he does not view you as that anymore. Maybe he is still stuck in this routine of fucking up everything, and although your face has a scowl in it, you answer cordially.

You slap your face hoping to sober up, but it does nothing but sting your cheeks. You moan in pain before letting the phone slip out of your grasp and walk to your room, leaving everything behind to try to sleep. You won’t take water, much less any medicine, you want to punish yourself for this desperation that comes whenever his name is mentioned.

It’s like loosing sight of what you should do and what you want to do. You should move on and find someone that won’t push you away, but you need your husband’s arms to cradle you to sleep. And, also, his secret weapon to deal with any insomnia and terrible thoughts — the dick. The perfect one, filling you up instantly, has you reciting your wedding vows in your head every time he makes you see stars. Your hands can’t do the same, not even the bright green toy your friend has presented you after dealing with a little crises of yours.

Nonetheless, you still reach down to your panties and try to play with your clit like your (ex) husband used to do. You never were capable of copying him, your pussy misses his long thick fingers and his cold tongue movements. You feel like crying all over again.

Is with your hand inside yourself that you fall sleep, much like Nanami in his own place. Both sad and with this pent up energy that could light Japan by itself.

The next morning, you wake up with enough pain to believe your head had grow two times it’s own size, and with fogged memories of last night, you halt your movements while smelling the flowers. In the limbo of dreams and reality, you had forgotten these flowers aren’t the usual ones your partner would greet you with, and instead are the desperation of Nanami to fix his mess.

You want to burn it again, but you decide against it and grabs your phone on the floor, eyes avoiding the texts of last night, you wonder if 9am is a good hour to call your ex husband and asks him about the impedimental fall of your marriage. Sighing desperate, you call him.

“Hello.” Nanami’s voice is still the same hoarse and low tone that has you closing your legs on your white couch.

“Hi, Kento.” You try to put strength in your voice, but it barely could be called a whisper. You cough awkward. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Nothing to worry about, Y/n.” No, don’t call me that, you thought. “Are you better now? Feeling any pain or discomfort?”

“I am…” you admit. “…but it’s not from the hangover.”

There is silence on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Besides sincerity, there is a fragility in Nanami’s voice, and at that you almost cry. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You mean the flowers or the divorce?” Your voice is starting to rise.

“Both, I don’t know.” Is easy to picture Nanami in his suit, head hanging low and hands over his eyes. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Is the— Is there any way for me to fix this?” Desperation is added to the equation of emotions Nanami is revealing.

“I don’t know, Kento. I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“I won’t, I promise. I can guarantee to you, just let me explain.” You both are kept silent, only both breathings is heard. “Let me take you out today, a secluded restaurant where we can talk properly. If you think I don’t deserve you after that, I’ll respect your wishes, I’ll keep myself away. Please, just don’t let us regret losing this chance.”

Your hold on the cellphone grow tighter as you thought of Nanami’s words. The moment you snickered quietly you knew you deserved the truth of it all, even if partly you had an idea, hearing from the male was in your right. Having him trembling in your presence, begging for forgiveness, being pathetic was awakening new feelings in you.

“Pick me up at seven. And wear your cheetah tie.” Before Nanami can say anything, you hung up satisfied.

As always, Kento follow your orders, and when you open the door to your apartment later that day, he presents himself with the tie you required and another bouquet decorating his hands, the ring on his finger drying your throat right away. Nanami has a nervous smile when he lowers the flowers, showing you the scars you have only heard about from Shoko. Half of his face and body is covered with the pinkish tissue, and yet, he keeps being the most beautiful man in the world. You don’t tell him that, not so soon.

Grabbing the flowers, you turn around in place, showcasing your open back dress and a red pantie.

“Can you zip this up?” You ask, hearing Nanami’s groan before feeling his hot hands on your hips, he moves them slowly towards your ass before zipping the silk up to your waist. “All good there?”

“Yes.” Nanami answers with a tender grip again on your hips.

“Then why won’t you remove your hand?” You stare at him over your shoulder, red lips shinning with your saliva when you wet them, all under his hawk like gaze.

Before Nanami answers, you walk swaying your waist and clicking your expensive shoes on the wooden floor, putting the flowers on the vase and avoiding eyeing your ex husband and his completely hot self.

“I made the reservations for the Palpatine, you still enjoy their food, right?” He asks from somewhere behind you.

“We’ve been separated for four months, Kento, I didn’t change that much.” There is humor in your voice, for the same quantity that there is acid. You finish adding water to the vase and put it besides the other flowers the man has got you.

“It feels like years.” He comes by your side, smelling the sweet floral air impregnating your apartment. His eyes keep shifting between you and the colorful bouquets, until they fall on the unsigned divorce papers you forgot to hide.

“I bet it does.” You want to bite his head off when his long fingers (that you miss) moves closer to the paper, as if inspecting if it’s real. “Don’t worry, if you need, I’ll sign them when you drop me off later.”

“I thought I made clear I want for us to fix this.” Kento has a concerned look on his face.

“For how long? Until another big, dangerous mission? And the wheels will spin again, and you will tell me how cruel you are for staying with me?” Your don’t punch him, but you feel like you are close to, when your pointy finger starts hammering on his chest. “Kento, please, I can’t deal with the pain of having you just to lose again, it’s too much.”

“I promise you this will never happen again.” He says, his large hands holding yours to his chest, the rapid beating of his heart under your palms. “There will be no more pain, no more leaving.”

“I don’t want promises, I need actions. I need prove.” You roll your eyes and move away, wondering if all of this was a stupid idea. He follows you, and you believe it is.

“I’m not a sorcerer anymore.” Your back is to his chest, so you can sense his unhinged breathing that matches yours. Slowly, you turn to his scarred and beautiful face. “I’m retired now. After Shibuya, the higher ups agreed that my work as a sorcerer is over, that I needed rest.” Slowly, his hands moved towards your face, you flinched at first before allowing him to cup your cheeks. “If I had waited, right now we wouldn’t be fighting or nearly divorced, we would be somewhere calm and happier.”

“If- - If we are to make this work again, we-I, need boundaries!” He nods right away. “No more jumping to conclusions without consulting the other, no more conversations about death and pain. If we are together we will live happily, Nanami.”

You don’t allow him to say nothing more, arms going straight to his shoulders, you raise your feet of the ground and connect your starving lips together, melting in that fusion of longings and desperate love. You have missed him so much, but your body could never forget how it feels to be kissed devotedly by Nanami Kento, to have his grip on your waist trying to bring you impossibly closer or to hear his groans when you pull his blond hair. Four months, four years or decades, nothing could erase the love and connection you both had for the other.

But still, Nanami needs to learn his lesson.

You move backwards, mischief in your eyes and puff lips, Nanami feels his pants getting tighter with the look on your face. He knows what is to come, but he is not scared. You press both palms on his chest, making the male walks backwards until you both reach your room, there he ends up falling on the bed. He tries to pull you with him, but you shake your head in a negative motion.

“C’mon, please, darling. I need you.” He begs and you almost fumble at the sight of his large thighs spread for you, a messy hair and red lipstick smeared on his face. Your manicured nails scraping gently his cheeks, before tracing down to his neck, where you scratch, and still you go down.

“So good, you listened to me, baby.” You praise him when you touch the tie you ordered him to use, the print matching with your dress — Nanami thought you wanted the two of you to be paired, now, when you loose the tissue and prompts him to move back on the bed, he knows he fucked up when you follow him, crawling seductively and still, you are nowhere near his skin.

Holding it like a leash, you laugh sweetly with the desperate and piteous eyes of your husband. Nanami is torn between grabbing you to his laps or letting you command any movements of the night. It’s so hard to focus on not taking control, when you hair fails messily on your back, when you move closer to remove the tie and he smells your perfume, leaving a kiss on your neck that has you giggling or… Fuck, or when you bind him to your headboard. Nostalgia hits you both, but usually you were the one tied-up.

“You will behave, right, Kento?” Moving your dress up, you sit on his lap, perfectly on his growing bulge, earning a moan from him.

“Don’t call me that.” He implored, his jerking up enough to get a reaction out of you.

“What should I call you then…? Nanami!” You laugh among another moan elicited by him.

“You know that’s not my name for you, Y/n.” Your laughs cease, and his starts with the view of your irritated face. “Sorry, my darling.”

“That’s better…” The straps of your dress fall elegantly on your shoulder when you use his to come closer, whispering in his ear. “… my love.”

You kiss his cheeks, chuckling at his despair of not kissing your lips.

Raising on your knees, you remove your dress slowly, showcasing more of the red see through pantie he saw earlier, and no bra, the dress didn’t ask for one, he had know the moment the open back was show to him. Nanami had seen you naked a hundred and more times, but you have never failed to make him tremble at the sight of your beautiful body. The bed squeaked when on instinct, Nanami’s hands tried to reach your boobs. You knew he wouldn’t be restrained for too long, but he still owned you something.

“What are you planning on doing?” He demanded to know, eyes closed when you reached your hand down, touching his clothed cock, massaging it, opening his pants. However, you just pushed it down, but his underwear wasn’t phased by you. He hanged his head to the side, curious and already hating it. “Please, darling. Don’t do this.”

“Oh, why not, love?” Seductively, your words painted your tongue and lips with the fake innocence, while your hips started to move very slowing on top of his togged member, pulsating enough for you to feel even with two materials barring it from getting inside you.

“It feels like we are two dumb teenagers, y’know that.” Nanami groans when your pacing starts to get a little more faster.

Missing his heat and this feeling to an excessive extreme, you barely acknowledge whatever he had said. Your moans were getting louder, and the bed was shaking more, wether it was your doing or his irritated hands, you didn’t care. At this moment, the man under you was serving merely the purpose of getting you off, after four months of no cuming, you deserved it. Of course, you would rather be getting thrusted without mercy, his cock splitting your walls, still, he needed his punishment.

“Don’t cum, Y/n.” Nanami commands sternly, but you are too far gone to give a fuck. He hates when you waste your release on anywhere that is not his mouth, dick or fingers.

You keep moving, ignoring his pleas and demands, as if he was merely just a toy to satisfy you — he is, he knew that, wore that distinction like a badge of honor. But, right now, months after the breakup and longings of your pussy, he could not miss your first cum being on his underwear instead of on himself. You closed your eyes and whimpered in that way he knew you were either seconds or two minutes away.

“Fuck it.” You screeched when somehow the pleasure went away, and now two large hands had halted your movements. Leaving your daze, you realized Nanami had break free from his torment and tie, making you pout. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re not cuming on dry humping me, at least sit on my fucking face.”

No complains from you, he smiles at you silence before laying down, hands still on your hips. You move up, trying to get the wet panties off, after a few seconds of trying, Nanami simply tears it off to shreds. You want to complain and smack his smirk away, but fuck it, you’re too worked up to care. Rolling your eyes, you positioned yourself on his face, slowing descending into him, Nanami, though, doesn’t want carefulness, he pushes you down harshly and it’s already working his way to your release with his most cruel and perfect tongue movements.

Your grip on the iron headboard it’s nearly bending it, and your pleas and begs for more and more are getting drowned by moan after moan he takes from you. Nanami slaps your ass, a sign for you to start humping his face as well. His nose keeps touching your clit, and you can’t help but want to cry when he starts to gently bite it as well, moving his tongue inside, separating your folders.

“I- - I can’t, I can’t! Fuck.” Babbling nonsense, you feel the build up all over again, moving one of your hands to his hair you squeeze it enough to hear his moans of pleasure through you. “Baby, I’m… I’m…close!”

You hear something muffed, could only assume is Nanami encouraging you to let it all out. And when the knot on your lower body begs to be released, you let it go with a loud moan, tears falling and hips still moving, four months of neediness going all the way down to your husbands face and mouth, and he keeps devouring your still.

After what felt like hours, you move up with weak knees, Nanami mumbles something in an equally dazzled stated, you fall on the side on your back, laughing when he hoovers over you in an instant, pecking your lips a few times before going for your neck, where he is sure to leave those love bites and marks he adores so much. When he reaches your boobs you know he is going to be occupied for a while, sucking one onto his mouth while the other is being mercilessly pinched by his fingers, you cry out of desperation for more and more, and he keeps granting you. Always will.

He bites and sucks alternating between them, and you sense when one of his hands go all the way down to your pussy, two fingers separating your folds and penetrating it. Nanami eyes go up to stare at you eyes, drowning himself in more pleasure over your nearly passed out expressions — open mouth, bright eyes, moans of his name slipping from your lips, he is losing control with you.

“I need you, please Nana… Baby, please.” You keep begging like a prayer, hoping he can grant you what you missed the most.

He sucks stronger one of your tits before retreating himself with a loud pop sound. His fingers, though, keep moving in a steady rhythm, shaking your legs and pulling the knots from your inside. You fear you might faint if you don’t cum again.

“One more, my love. You can do that for me, right?” With the way he whispers near your ear, biting gently you lob, you could do anything he asks in this moment. You nod frantically and he coos at you with a sweet laugh. “I know you can, go on, baby. Cum for me.”

You follow his lead right away, letting yourself set lose and relax, drenching his thick fingers deep inside you while he groans at the feeling of your walls around him, knowing for a fact that it will all feel better when it gets replaced by his cock. Nanami knows that overstimulating you is a prize to win, but right now, you both need each-other in a more primal way. If you ask, demand, he will fall down on his knees and glue his face to your pussy until no one can get him out, he can leave his own needs for a century later, but right now you both are desperate for the raw feeling only him inside you can provide.

He moves away while you come back from the high, and remove all his clothing, before coming back on top of you. Kiss on your necks making you giggle in anticipation, soft sighs scrapping both of your throats before a kiss is started and deepened quickly, his tongue always so controlling of yours — you are too far gone in the need to be fucked to try and keep control of anything anymore, he knows it, he will take good care of you for that.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.” Nanami praises you, one hand rests on your leg, he adjusts it to his waist before holding his own member and sliding inside you. “Fuck, it’s so fucking tight.” You moan with just the feeling of him going deeper, and when he stops, balls deep, you whine sad. “Shh, it’s okay baby- - I’m just feeling you.”

“Feel me while moving…” You blurted while moving your hips, hoping to catch some reaction out of it. Only a harsh slap on your thigh was the answer. “…please…?” He chuckles.

And then, he moves. Slow at first, as a way to say he is doing what you please but it’s still his call, his command. You don’t complain even if the words and sassiness are scratching your throat, they are being buried by your long moans and whimpers. Instead, to focus on anything else and let your husband grant you what you need without anymore punishments for the two of you (him for being a dick, you for being too eager), you wrap your other leg on his waist, making him go even deeper and the both of you groan simultaneously.

It’s so good you now it won’t last long. The first feeling of being buried by his thick cock is much better than you remembered, and it’s been four months, you won’t judge each-other. Nanami, though, thinks different. It’s his first time fucking you after a long time, he is going to make all of this worth it. If he had any say in this, he could be inside you for days.

A yelp scapes you when his thrusts stop being gentle and turn into a maniac rhythm, dazzled by your scent and the feeling of you wrapping around his dick, Nanami is surely losing control, you think, and while mumbling on his ears about how good he feels and how much you love him, he goes back to the slow pace. You groan and he laughs.

“You’re evil.” You whisper with a hiccup, fat tears forming on the side of your eyes. Nanami was focused at staring down, seeing himself going in and out of you, but your broken voice made his head snap up, his burned hands holding your face and cleaning the tears of frustration, he kisses them as well.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod at him. “That’s what I want, baby. To keep it good for as long as we can.” And so, the fast pacing comes again.

You feel desperate and hot, your skin is burning with the desire to release yourself all over again, to crumble under Kento, and let yourself be taken care by him. He holds you like you’re a delicate paper, and still he fucks you like you are unbreakable. Maybe you are, when he moves both your legs to rest on his shoulders and starts the mating press position, you know you are stronger than you look, otherwise, you would have fainted with how terribly good it fucking felt to be even more deeper and filled.

Nanami did not stop for even one second, he didn’t need to catch his breath or stretch his legs, he only needed you. To be inside of you deep enough to never be apart, to print his size on your body so only he could bring you that pleasure. Of course, none of that matters to you — too busy moaning so loud and scratching his back to the point of bleeding. Everything felt too much, and too good.

“M-m…more…” It’s the only thing you can say on this position, Nanami smirks at your requests and complies to it, even more faster and brutal, your legs are shaking by his shoulders, he push them down to your chest and uses the back of your thighs to keep himself balanced. His eyes can only focus on your wet entrance receiving all of it, no complains. “S-so good, baby!”

You feel the same knots from earlier starting to untie, from your abdomen, your hands instantly goes to Nanami’s thigh, trying to stop his movements but he won’t budge and you’re glad for it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and you nod with closed eyes and open mouth. “You keep wrapping me like this, I can’t handle more.”

“Please, cum inside me.” Nanami groans at your request, and like fuel to fire, he doesn’t stop thrusting. You know you made the right choice, he is going to fill you whole.

The burning of yours and his skin makes you wonder if you’re seeing smoke coming out of your bodies. It’s all too heavy and foggy, and the way his hands are gripping your thigh more and more, certainly marking it, you know what’s about to happen. Staring at him with pleading eyes, he nods at you, and you cum over his still moving cock, a shinny mess of your liquids mixing with his own, coming right after yours. Nanami removes your legs from his shoulders, letting them go to his waist again, he falls over you, kissing you starved while still shuffling inside you, making sure both of yours release are mixing deep in your womb.

After a few minutes of dizziness and high, Nanami presses kisses to your neck, prompting you to snuggle him impossibly closer to your body.

“I love you,” he says. “and I’ll never make any stupid decision again. You are mine and I’m yours.”

“Good thing we didn’t sign those papers.” You weakly state, already feeling the need to sleep. “I love you.”

“I’m still going to rip it, burn it. Whatever it takes to get that thing out of existence.” Nanami grunts when he gets up, you pout at the lack of being filled and he snorts. “Just a second, love.”

The vision of his naked ass has you ready to jump on him again, but you control yourself when he grabs something in his pants’s pocket and walk towards the bed, sitting in front of you and placing a box on your hand. You know what it is instantly, that doesn’t stop you from crying when you open it to be presented with the sight of your wedding band, the one you had throw at the table the night he left. You had searched for it everywhere in the apartment, not knowing he had took them.

“Let’s get married again, what do you think?” You sob at his request, nodding your head right away, not trusting your voice. “How about we go to Malaysia? Beach wedding, only the two of us.”

“Forever…?” You wonder while he puts your ring on your finger, while you touch his, that he has never removed, kissing his hand after it.

“Yes, my darling, forever.”

[evnovaa]

Blame | Chris Sturniolo.

Chris Sturniolo x reader

“I feel stripped of my skin and alone.”

Genre: angst

Warnings: slight anxiety and swearing

a/n: alrightie cuties enjoy!

“Chris you are seriously starting to piss me off can you MOVE.” Nick says to his brother as he stands in his way from getting into their shared apartment.

"Kid, you can walk around me you know that right?" Chris says in an annoyed tone.

Nick rolls his eyes and pushes past him "fucking imbecile, I swear" Nick said mumbling under his breath.

Chris was standing in the door way mainly because he was trying to get a hold of his girlfriend who doesn't seem to be answering the phone. Recently she's been distant and he has been assuming the worst either she is cheating on him or she's hiding something that she might be enduring without his knowledge.

Chris ⭐️ : y/n can you please just respond to say you are okay

Chris⭐️: y/n I don't know what's been going on with you recently, and I'm not fucking akinator this shit is getting annoying.

Read at 9:59pm

Chris is still getting no response from y/n, she's clearly reading his messages which now indicates that she's ignoring him.

"Dude are you gonna stand there there the whole night?" Matt says to him coming down the stairs.

Chris goes ahead and ignores what his brother just said to him, in that moment it sounded like nothing but gibberish as he is still staring at his phone.

"Before Christmas Christopher." Matthew says to him awaiting a response.

Chris sighs and puts his phone in his pocket and walks into their apartment. He shoots straight to his room and shuts the door behind him.

Next morning

Y/n pov

I can see my boyfriend texting me and I know he's gotten irritated with me, but right now he is the last person to be irritated.

Me and Chris have been together for almost 3 years now, he is really amazing and been amazing all these years.

What has changed you may ask? Well all these years he has been amazing but like everyone else their boyfriend may do something they dislike but don't have the heart to say anything. For me it's him and his never ending friendship as he'd like to say with his ex-girlfriend

Earlier yesterday

"She really is incredible, but y/n hates the mention of her, l've noticed anytime I mention Lola around her she tends to get quiet and isn't present in the conversation anymore" Chris says venting to his friend Larry.

"Chris imma have to be honest with you, it is lowkey weird that you're so close to Lola while dating y/n, I don't know the boundaries surrounding your relationship, but usually girls don't want their man parading around with their ex-girlfriend."

"But listen she's more of a friend to me, dating her was like something I did because I felt alone, and needed the reassurance of a partner, but Lola and I grew into friends more than a couple, hence we broke up" Chris knows what he's saying is true in his mind but in his heart he loves Lola still, but refuses to come to terms with it.

"I don't know chrissypoo, you're gonna have to figure that one out with her." Larry says knowing this conversation will be far from productive if anything it was moving in retrograde.

“But Larry nothing is going on with me and Lola so I don’t understand y/n’s avoidance with her.” Chris tries to sound convincing but deep down he know he is spewing utter bullshit.

Chris’s phone stars to ring and he sees it is his girlfriend, he answers the phone as if he is trying to cover up something.

Larry gives him a look of “why do you sound guilty” but they let that moment die silently

“Hey baby!” Chris says

“Oh hey babe…why do you sound like that” y/n says chuckling lightly, but laced with concern and curiosity.

“Oh no it’s nothing I’m just kickin it with Larry, uh do you wanna come over maybe? I miss you.”

“I mean sure I just left the nail salon, but you won’t believe who I bumped into”

“Huh? Who? Was it Aaliyah?” He says mentioning one of their best friends

“No unfortunately, but it was your girlfriend Lola.” Y/n says sarcastically and laughing, hoping Chris would return the same reaction.

“WHAT? Lola is NOT my girlfriend, you are baby why would you say that.” Chris says shocked, mainly because Lola was the person they were talking about not too long ago and the conversation being about y/n’s feelings toward Lola.

“Chris are you okay genuinely what the fuck are you on about” y/n says slightly taken aback by his erratic response.

“Baby I have no idea what you’re talking about, actually let’s talk more when you get home alright?” Chris says quickly, now he knows he is being weird but is trying his very best to play it cool, newsflash it’s not working in his favor.

“Oh uh okay…” y/n says before ending the call not even exchanging goodbye’s and I love you’s like they usually do.

Y/n always had suspicions that she might be Chris’s rebound for Lola but they have been together for too long for that to even make sense in any kind of way. But again y/n is anxious by nature, she overthinks everything. Well tonight she decided that she was gonna go through his phone, she’s hoping and praying to find absolutely nothing to suggest that he’s doing something he shouldn’t.

She gets to the triplets apartment and they all exchanged greetings and ate their brunch together, Larry left a bit earlier so y/n was bummed she couldn’t see him but she continued with her early afternoon with her boyfriend. Chris went with his brothers to film their Wednesday vlog.

Y/n got bored and decided to go to Chris’s room and stay there for a bit, she decided to also watch some Netflix on Chris’s MacBook. She’s done with the episode of her favorite show and as she is about to close the laptop she sees a new IMessage notification from Lola.

Lolaaa👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏻 : I’m almost there!

Chris : alright hurry tho😭

Chris: oh also we can’t hang for too long, told y/n I’m out filming with Matt and Nick

Lolaaa👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏻 : lying to your girlfriend to meet me🤭 should I be honored?

Chris : should be she would flip if she knew what was happening

Lolaaa👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏻 : where are Matt and Nick if she thinks you’re with them?

Chris : oh yeah they are in the area, thrifting lol

Lolaaa👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏻 : ohh okay, also parking rn so see you soon 💋

Chris : ight

Y/n wasn’t crazy, she couldn’t believe what she just read. Everything Chris has ever promised to her has become a lie,

“we never hang out without you around.”

“She’s not even that important to me anymore.”

“I’m glad the friendship is drifting, gives me a chance to focus on us.”

everything he has ever said to her about Lola starts to ring in her head like a bell going haywire. Her vision gets blurry and she couldn’t hold it in, she broke down, she felt like her trust with him is broken and things were going wrong. She doesn’t think straight and decides to call him.

She starts calling him as her tears stream down her face as she sniffles.

“Chris?”

“Hey uhhh I’ll call you back alright? I’m just in the middle of something I promise I’ll call you back”

“Oh okay” before she could finish her sentence he hung up.

Her heart shattered, she was picturing the worst, Was he cheating? Was he out doing things couples would do with her? How many times has she been lied to regarding Lola? All these questions were in her head and she didn’t know how to cope and feel in that moment.

She broke down even more in Chris’s bed and in his hoodie that she wears all the time. She feels her chest closing and her head spinning.

minutes pass and y/n is on the edge of the bed facing the floor and she has never felt more alone in that moment. Chris knew y/n wasn’t social, she didn’t have many friends, if not all her friends were his friends so we’re they actually ever y/‘s friends? She wouldn’t think so.

She gets her car keys and she leaves his apartment.

The drive home felt almost like an out of body experience. She felt like her whole world just ended, she never had trust issues with him till recently, he would mention her more than he should. she didn’t realize it but she was becoming distant in her realization and overthinking when it came down to Lola.

Chris pov

“I missed you a lot y’know” Lola says to Chris with eyes that show yearning and slight sorrow.

“I missed you too, life has been weird without seeing you as much, but I’ve adjusted I guess.” Chris says genuinely, he meant every word, in all seriousness he didn’t know if he still liked the thought of himself with Lola.

“I mean, you’re in a relationship and it made me back off, I didn’t want to but it was out of respect.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, I need you too Lola.” Chris realizes he said the last part of his sentence out loud, if anyone was there they would say that was the worst freudian slip ever.

“You need me? Since when? y/n was all you ever talked about day in and day out.” Lola says looking up at her best friend.

“I mean you’re my friend right? Friends need each other.” Chris says trying to save himself.

“Chris do you still want to be with me? I can’t tell and I need to know I can’t keep sneaking around to meet you.” Lola says pleading with the boy.

Chris has major whiplash in that moment and looks at here with shock, as if she almost read his mind.

“I- no, I’m with y/n, we broke up for a reas-“ Chris gets interrupted by Lola’s lips and he cannot stop it, his lips melted into hers and they shared a moment that only they will be able to describe.

Lola pulls away first from the kiss and is the first to speak.

“You can’t keep lying to yourself Chris, the way you just kissed me contradicts everything you just said does it not?” Lola says looking at him knowing she’s right

“Lola what the fuck was that? You can’t fucking do that I have a girlfriend, I don’t fucking want you!” Chris says yelling out of guilt

“Tell me you don’t want me, say it.” Lola says

“Lola-“

“IF YOU DON’T WANT ME FUCKING SAY IT CHRISTOPHER”

“I CAN’T SAY IT OKAY? I CANT!” Chris yelling at Lola, her eyes enlarged and his eyes were filled with tears and he was filled with guilt and distress.

“I can’t fucking do this Lola.” Chris says as he walks away from Lola leaving her in the middle of the empty parking lot.

Chris calls Matt to tell him to come get him, which he does, Chris enters the car without a word to either of his brothers.

“You okay kid?” Matt says concerned

“Yeah I’m fine, fuck I need to text y/n.”

Chris calls and texts to no response, they arrive at home and still nothing from his girlfriend.

They arrive at their apartment, see y/n’s car isn’t there, sends Chris into a panic.

Chris ⭐️ : y/n can you please just respond to say you are okay

Chris⭐️ : y/n I don't know what's been going on with you recently, and I'm not fucking akinator this shit is getting annoying.

Chris feels nothing but guilt and anger in his body, and he has no idea how to deal with it. His night is filled with crying and silent suffering

He in this moment only has himself to blame.

︶⊹���︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

A/n: well! That went well didn’t it 😟 #prayfory/n free you my heart 😭🙏🏽 lmk if y’all want pt.2

[c28hunter]

You call me a bich like it's a bad thing

Paring: Rockstar-reader X ex-Lance Stroll, Rockstar-reader X Max Verstappen

Face claim: Lzzy Hale

Summary: Y/N broke up with Lance and everyone thought that she won't be back in the paddock. They were wrong.

Final info: it's all fake and not meant to be treated seriously! It's also my first work in such a format so keep that in mind

y/nl/n_official

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 54 870 more

y/nl/n_official: Amsterdam you were 🔥FIRE🔥 last night! Thank you so much for screaming my newest single from the top of your lungs, couldn't have expected a better song release! "You call me a bitch like it's a bad thing" now available on every streaming platform!

see the comments:

y/n'sbich: I WAS IN AMSTERDAM SHE SMILED AT ME PEOPLE SHE SMILED AT ME

l/n4life: I lost my voice in Amsterdam, has anyone found it? liked by y/nl/n_official

y/ns_version: OKAY but can we talk about how she absolutely DESTROYED Lance Stroll in that song, like, QUEEN YOU ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS

mskmberly: YES!!! Like, calling his house a "little crib"?! Girls just fok smashed his door

livelaughlancestroll: I mean, doesn't it just mean that she's still obsessed with him 😒

mskmberly: she just publicly destroyed his ass, do you think she really wants him back?

amy.y/nsfan: I'm so happy she broke up with that guy, they haven't even matched each other

stroll_army: bruh why was she even invited to the paddock in the first place? She can't even sing

landos1stfan: eat shit and die

megfanartist: she's the most accurate celebrity to be invited to the paddock, since she's been an F1 fan. And she ACTUALLY knows what the sport is about

maxverstappen1: amazing concert! Can't believe it was real

y/nl/n_official: can't believe you were actually there!

y/nfanpage: OMG, MAX IN THE COMMENTS?!

f1arson: hello max???

verstappenfan: HUH?! HE WAS THERE WHAT THE FUCK?!

maxverstappen1 posted a new story

maxverstappen1: best shot of y/n that I got in Amsterdam last night

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

y/nl/n_official

Liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 50 876 more

y/nl/n_official: Gald to be back in the paddock, you have no idea how much I missed this 🙏 Thanks to the @/redbullracing team for an invitation! Keep pushing guys!

see the comments

georgerussell63: good to have you back in the paddock!

y/nl/n_official: good to sing a duet with you again!

britneyf1: THAT. WAS. THE. MOST. HILARIOUS. THING. EVER.

rassell2.0: PLEASE MAKE A DUET!

winvictor: GEORGE MAKE A COVER OF Y/N'S NEWEST SONG

redbullracing: thank you for your visit! We hope to see you for the next race ❤️

y/nl/n_official: 🫡

y/nsversion: she's always been a redbull girlie I was right

maxverstappen1: paddle on Tuesday?

y/nl/n_official: just so you could beat me again? Sign me in

leclercs.verion: stop flirting in public, it's giving people diabetes

formula.formula: did you notice that she interacted with all teams APART FROM Aston Martin?

user56: well, she did have a chat with Alonso

george.the.mighty: you really thought she was going to go chit-chat with her ex AFTER releasing that new single?

~~~~~~~

y/nl/n_official & maxverstappen1

y/nl/n_official: New hair, new show, new companion. Thank you Milan, you were amazing!

see comments

maxverstappen1: 😘❤️

y/nl/n_official: 🥰

landonorris: so that's why you couldn't go play paddle with me huh 🤔

maxverstappen1: priorities man

landonorris: simp

y/nl/n_official: @/landonorris paddle on Wednesday?

landonorris: with you? always

maxverstappen1: 😑

byelando: them. on tour. together. I can't

ferrarisversion: can't believe he actually got her

redbullracing: but you will deliver our driver safely for the next race, right?

y/nl/n_official: of course! And don't worry, I am keeping him fed and physically active

redbullracing: 😄👍

maxverstappen1: ... really?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[all-pacas]

OKAY. 13 AND CHASE IN AFTER HOURS THO

The fact that when 13 needs help, she calls Chase. Why does she call him? Why doesn't she call someone else? She needs someone to deliver her a portable ultrasound, and okay, you could argue Foreman is a bad call because he's her ex and would pry. That House would just refuse. Taub would have been a good pick tbh, he would drop it off and just go home no questions asked. But no, she calls Chase

(And I love that call. "You doing anything?" "Oh, yeah, I'm just about to go out," Chase lies blatantly, asleep in bed with a book on the crusades on his chest. Like the loser he is. I don't know that it was done well but I love how S7 examines his Dumb Whore tendencies: it isn't really him, it's a rebound. He does it again when he gets stabbed.)

And of course the second he shows up he immediately sees through 13's excuses and pushes his way into the apartment. Because we love Chase's observation skills triumphing over his laziness.

13 tells Chase the prison backstory. Like! It's kind of glossed over. She hasn't told this to anyone else. She doesn't hide it. I killed my brother. It wasn't murder. Chase is just pacing, you just know he's twigged as hell, he's so anxious all at once as she tries to brush past it. The idea that 13 kind of had to tell him to explain Darrien's presence but she's also — House is the only other person who knows.

CHASE: Have you talked to anybody about it? I mean, are you okay?

Like we know this immediately triggered something in Chase, but 13 doesn't, and seeing him so anxious and pacing and ignoring the bleeding dying woman as 13 works, it's just. Incredible. It's good. He cares immediately, he's relating to this immediately.

But I love seeing them work together. Like they just immediately go in sync, Chase offering suggestions and 13 doing the work. They're just. It's nice.

SIDE NOTE: House says he called everyone before he called Cuddy. We see him call 13 and Taub. Chase is off picking up drugs, we don't see House call him, but like. He had to have called Chase first, right? Did Chase not pick up? Did he blow him off because he already was dealing with someone bleeding to death in someone's apartment??

The way they fight oh my god. The way 13 just is trying to fucking murder Chase. She punches him, she claws and shoves him, and then he just clocks her and stares horrified as she falls to the floor. Like it's an actual fight, it's brutal, it's so good. They hurt one another. I can't explain it but I love how brutal it is, that they both walk away with bruises, that it isn't pretty. Incredible. Amazing scene.

CHASE: You were defending your friend beyond all rationality, granting her the right to die in your bedroom. Was it really all because of a promise? 13: That word means something to some people. CHASE: Not that much. […] CHASE: You promised your brother you'd euthanize him and you think you won't feel bad about it as long as you can blame it on the promise. That's why you have this twisted obligation to keep all promises… or your carefully constructed defense mechanism could crumble down. 13: I saved my brother from a lot of pain.

!! Chase keeps bringing it up, he keeps bringing up her brother, not out of I can't believe you did a murder or I can't believe you went to prison but: you must hate yourself. He's calling her out on her coping mechanisms, he's calling her out on her guilt, and it's so fucking clear what he means is I get it but he's not saying that part. 13 killed her brother and now has to believe she did the right thing, no matter what, no matter how she feels. She's taking away her own agency: it was for a promise, it was his decision, she had nothing to do with it, it's fine, it doesn't feel bad. Chase killed Dibala and told himself it was for the greater good, it was morally just, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't feel bad. And it nearly destroyed him. And so he's pushing and pushing at it. He never goes 13 went to prison! he never goes it's so crazy you did that! Whenever he brings it up it's only in the context of how worried he is about her. Has she spoken to someone? Is she coping? Is this healthy? Is she okay? He's so worried. He cares so much.

I adore 13 and Chase running out of ideas with Darrien and calling dad. Most sibling coded of all time. Just. And the fact that House doesn't allude to also being in the hospital, actively bleeding and in pain, just, yes, we gotta help bail you two idiots out. Beautiful moment.

Chase getting 13 ice and coffee and still feeling guilty for punching her out, and 13 not blaming him at all. Like. You know. Don't beat people up. But in this one case I totally approve. Because I love it.

13: Darrien had to shoot that kid. It was the right thing. Completely justified. But it didn't matter. She destroyed her life trying to forget. I'm afraid that's what's gonna happen to me. CHASE: You really should talk to someone. 13: I've talked to a therapist. It didn't help. CHASE: Well, maybe you should talk to someone who isn't a therapist. 13: Do you really think you have any idea what it's like to live with something like this? CHASE: Let's grab a coffee.

Since the second Chase found out, this is what it's been leading towards. I love that he doesn't answer, he doesn't say a thing, but this is what he's been thinking all episode, why he's been pushing, why he's been so worried and caring: talk to me. Tell me you're not okay. Tell me everything isn't fine. And 13 holds it back until the end of the case, until it's over and she has no distractions. It's not at all clear Chase himself has talked to someone about Dibala, btw. He probably hasn't.

And how insane is that. He never told Foreman or House; they figured it out. He told Cameron: she left him. (Imagine being 13, hearing this. Realizing the timeline. She went to their wedding. What did she think happened when Cameron just … left? How quickly does she figure it out now?) House told Chase to talk to someone, Chase tried Confessing, but whenever he's tried to tell anyone it's gone terribly for him. I don't think he has talked to anyone. But he repeats House's advice to 13: talk to someone. (Talk to me.) He's offering her what he never got. And their situations are different, hers is much more sympathetic and easy to accept than his. Chase never goes I never got help or you have nothing to feel bad about or implies he doesn't think it's a big deal: his entire reaction is just empathy. He wants 13 to get what he didn't get, he wants to help.

The song that plays over the end of the episode is Bon Iver's Flume. And as much as you can apply it to House, and Cuddy, and Wilson, and all of that — it's a song about feeling isolated, feeling alone and being afraid of letting go. Of holding on to things that stain and hurt. The lyrics that play while 13 and Chase are having their coffee in the conference room, though:

i wear my garment/so it shows now you know

And I just! I love! Them! The ways 13 and Chase are so alike and so damaged, the way Chase reacts with empathy and care and wants her to have what he didn't, the way they know one another's secrets and worst moments and rely on one another so easily. 13's secrecy is a meme, in and out of universe, but Chase is absolutely no better: he won't even admit he's Catholic when talking to a nun. They're private to faults, they mask by sleeping around and taking risks and pretending not to care, they hide their hurts and then somehow, they punch one another in the face and know everything. I'm just. I'm so obsessed with them. I want them like this always.

[bountycancelled]

house of cards (a challengers au)

requested: no, but send challengers reqs I BEG !

warnings: none :)

content: tension I guess? readers kind of a go with the flow typa gyal, but the flow is sometimes manipulative and evil so... tashi and art both play (different games but they still play) patrick is a loser, but he's my loser so it's okay lowercase intended, unedited.

a/n: back after like a half year hiatus, and im on my challengers bullshit, hope you enjoy this cuz I wrote in a day lol

¤

¤

"you know, sometimes it feels like you hate me." the words leave your lips before you can stop them, coming out of your mouth with the kind of instantaneous honesty you learnt during your many years around tashi. admiring her, envying her, loving her, and hating her all the same.

she raises an amused brow, the sides of her mouth quirking up in a half smile. she probably thinks it's funny, your train of thought. you're in her dorm right now, laying on her bed with your head rested against her shoulder while some episode of some show serves as background noise. and yet, you seem unsure that she even wants you here.

but the one thing you can count on tashi to know, is what she wants. so if she's sure that she doesn't hate you, you should be too. "I don't hate you. I love you, more than usual, honestly."

that shouldn't make your stomach flip in the way it does, but you've always been a little like a hungry dog waiting to be thrown a bone when it came to affection, from anyone really (a problem that you thought you were working on effectively, you weren't.) but mostly tashi, who's affection was about as rare as the sight of her not playing tennis. well, maybe that comparison was in poor taste after the injury, but anyway.

"why is that?" you hope you don't come off as eager as you are to hear what you've done to further place yourself in her good graces (you do, but don't worry, tashi thinks it's cute.)

"you're the only one who still plays tennis with me. real tennis." she nudges you off of her shoulder as she speaks, forcing you to look at her, leaving you to tackle that feeling that always seemed to arise whenever she was close. a feeling that would rather die that put a name to.

god, you were such a tryhard when it came to her. you let her tell you about her escapade with the notorious 'fire and ice' duo, art and patrick. you assured that it was totally okay to pit two friends against each other for the prospect of getting her, you nodded along when patrick came out victorious, and you comforted her when she eventually broke it off.

and the cherry on top of this absolutely miserable sundae of yours, you played exactly the same way you used to play with her, because you knew it was what she wanted, and anything she wanted, you'd give it to her.

and she knew that, of course. one of the reasons she kept you around.

she brought her face close to yours, so close, closer, closer... before turning your own face to plant a kiss on your cheek, deciding to pay attention to the show you two had put on her laptop, completely shattering what you thought had been a moment between you and her. not the first time she's done that, not the last time you'll think that.

you inhale and exhale deeply, willing yourself to not spend the whole night picking that last ten seconds of that interaction apart, trying to analyse if you were running on pure delusion, or if something had been there, between you two.

but you do anyway, and you don't come to a solid conclusion. when it comes to tashi, you never do.

¤

¤

your run in with patrick is unexpected, but what is expected is just how fucking miserable he looks. you debate just leaving the diner all together, finding another place to eat. hell, not eating at all would be better than whatever conversation you could possibly have with the ex boyfriend of your best friend. the poor thing is still wearing that grey 'I told ya' shirt, and it's evident that he isn't taking any of this well.

you understand both of them, patrick blames himself (it's not his fault, at least not to you) and tashi needed someone to blame. there's a small part of you thats just glad you weren't the one that she chose, but it's small, and the bigger parts of you just want to pull patrick into a hug, but you're unsure of how appropriate that would be. unsure of if he would even want that from you. because you're not actually on his side, you'd never be on the side opposing tashi, and patrick knows that.

that doesn't stop his eyes from lighting up in hopeful recognition as he spots you awkwardly lingering by the entrance, and now you have to go and sit with him because you are not about to kick a dog while it's down. you flag down a waiter and order for yourself, turning to face him with a pensively worried expression.

"are you... okay?"

patrick laughs at your words, not because he thinks it's funny that you ask. (even in the event that you're just pretending to care, he's just thankful that you humoured him by sitting down) he laughs because he knows that you know that he's not. even if the two of you were strangers, you'd sense his misery from the second you entered and took one look at him.

"never better. foods here." he changes the topic swiftly, and you're starving, so you don't try to redirect it, stuffing your face almost as unapologetically as he is. but once the food finishes and you await the bill, you take another long look at him, and the sadness in his eyes make your heart ache.

you don't owe anything to patrick, but for whatever reason, you find yourself reaching for his hand, holding it in your own and giving it a comforting squeeze, smiling back at him sympathetically when he flashes you a grateful half smile.

maybe it's the unique circumstances of the breakup, or his sad brown eyes, or that one time you two played a "friendly" game right before him and tashi got together (the looks he gave you from across the court would be misplaced, but tennis was intrinsically sexy, and so was patrick, so you tried not to overthink it. tried.)

or maybe it's the emalgumation of every look that would make you squint curiously at him, every casual touch that would last too long because patricks patrick, every tipsy kiss on the cheek, or shoulder squeeze, but after you two leave the diner (he pays, and you feel bad about it, but don't comment further.) but when you face each other outside the establishment, the sunset painting the sky, you pull him into a hug.

the hug feels... far too intimate for two friends (were you still friends? you weren't sure.) but, whatever. he's hurt, grieving the loss of someone that would surely break you if you lost them and the loss of his own best friend, so you're not gonna judge. he wraps his arms around you slowly, hiding his face away in the crook of your neck, holding you so gently that a passerby would think that you're the one being comforted.

you tell him to call you if he ever feels lonely, immediately regretting your language because it sounds like you wanna fuck him, but he understands what you meant. and then, you say your goodbyes.

you don't tell tashi about that interaction. and you don't think you will.

¤

¤

your run in with art isn't intentional, but he's grateful for it.

he knows that you and tashi usually run drills together at the courts on saturdays, its not crowded since everyone is in their dorms trying to piece themselves together after a shitty week. but he also knows that tashi needs to rest right now, so you'd most likely be alone. but he doesn't strike then, the racket in your hand will make you too focused, he knows that all too well. you'd be giving him one word answers, barely paying him any mind and probably wanting him to fuck off as soon as possible.

so while he's wracking his brain, thinking of another opportunity to find a way in with you, because being closer to you meant being even closer to tashi, he's seconds away from getting on his knees and praising the gods above when he sees in the cafeteria, alone.

him being there for her when the injury happened was simply happenstance, and he was lucky in a roundabout sort of way, getting to comfort tashi and hopefully building a good image of himself in your mind, because you were there too, of course.

but that wouldn't cut it. he needed to be truly in with you, and he needed a new best friend anyway, he'd basically sold his last one off, so this was a two birds, one stone kind of situation.

you don't look up when art sits in front of you. because one, you know its him, he has the nervous kind of energy whenever he's around you, different to the kind of nervous energy he has when tashis around, but you can still sniff him out regardless. and two, you're still feeling shitty about that whole... thing with patrick, too shitty to care that blondies over here in front of you, trying to get in with tashi.

"they stale or something?" he asks, his smile stupidly warm and inviting as he points towards the cheese fries on your plate, completely untouched. you shoot air through your nose, smiling despite yourself before giving him a response. "no, I'm just grappling with the fact that I'm a shitty friend, and maybe even a shitty person in general."

he hums, holding his hand towards your tray as a silent question, and you push it towards him nonchalantly, letting him take what he wants. he feels way too good about a simple tray, but something about you sharing your food gives him hope that you haven't completely ruled him out.

"well, think about it this way. the average person needs to have at least one of these traits in order to be liked. talent, kindness or looks. you're a fucking beast on that court, and you're gorgeous, so you don't even need to worry about being a good person." it's easy to butter you up a bit, because the words he's saying are true, and he had a feeling that telling you what he honestly felt was the route to go with.

you roll your eyes at his words, but the compliment makes you bite back a smile. you're only human, after all, and not even you are invincible to the charms of one art donaldson.

but you keep your cool, waiting for the inevitable of him bringing up tashi, with the obligatory acting like that wasn't why he sat with you in the first place. but it comes later in the conversation than you thought it would, he asks if she's doing any better, and you answer with an honest 'no.'

maybe this is just another one of his tactics, pretending that he's fully interested in getting to know you with no tashi shaped ulterior motive. but it works. because you end up talking over your now empty tray for a while, so long that you're late to your next class.

the look that he gives you when you leave is one of longing, but it was a specific kind longing, one linked to tashi. that's what art tells himself too, as he watches you walk away.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 • 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦

Summary: Can you write a fic about reader and Jude angst (like heavyyyy angst yk?) and then the reader and Jude are not on speaking terms anymore but something about the reader’s past happens and she doesn’t know where to go but to Jude and at first he’s shocked to see her at his doorstep but he lets her in and at first it’s awkward word exchanges but Jude notices her holding her tears back and tries asks her what’s wrong and she’s just like “it just hurts, so bad” and then fluff and then they get back together and just pure fluff-heavy on the angst(lmao I’m on my period can you tell)

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning: dad issues, break up, ex Jude

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x f reader

Word count: 1k

Author note: I honestly don't know what this is but oh well

Jude Bellingham Masterlist right here

Enjoy

--

Your relationship with Jude ended abruptly. You don’t know how it happened so fast. One minute you were talking, the next you were packing your bags with tears in your eyes.

That was 3 weeks ago and you still haven’t recovered from it. Jude clouded your memory like a plague. You been with him for so long before it all ended he just became apart of you. You loved him so much but unfortunately you had to let him go.

--

You sat in your apartment, TV on, but you weren’t even paying attention to it. You were stuck in your thoughts until your phone rung.

It was a call from your dad. You haven’t talked to him in years. The last time you did he gaslighted you and then abandoned you. What did he want after these many years?

“Hello?”

Your dad’s booming voice came on the other end of the phone making you cringe. He began to explain how he had found someone and how he was about to marry her after getting her pregnant. You pity the unknown woman and child who has to suffer his mental abuse.

“Why are you calling and telling me this?” you asked stopping his rambling. Your dad paused for a second before speaking.

“out of all people I thought you would be the happiest for me.”

You scoffed, laughing at his stupidity. “happy for you? After you emotionally abused me, treated me and my mom like shit and left us when we finally stood up for ourselves? I’m not going to be fucking happy for you. I feel pity for that child who has to grow up with you.”

A brief silence went by before your dad’s voice echoed through the phone. Anger laced in his voice as he spoke.

Lots of disgusting words flowed from his mouth. “I hate you” “you were a mistake I wish you were never born. “ “I hope you die.”

You wish you didn’t take any of it to heart, but you did. You always do.

After a bit you ended the call, no longer wanting to hear his insults thrown daggers at you.

You threw your phone at the end of the couch and groaned. You ran your hands down your face.

You hated him so bad it made you feel physically ill.

You didn’t notice you were crying when you pulled your hand away from your face but you were. You guess all the old memories flooded your brain and made you remember how horrible of a person he truly was.

--

You don’t know how you made it to Jude’s doorstep. Jude always knew how bad your relationship with your dad was and he was always there for you when you were dating.

You knocked on the door softly. The tears that were on your face were wiped away as you waited for the door to open.

The door swung open revealing Jude. He looked exhausted just like you were. He was taking the breakup hard.

“y/n, why are you hear? Did you forget something?” Jude eyebrows knitted until he was the tears streaming down your face. “love, what happened?”

He pulled you into the house and looked at you. His expression was dripping concern. He hates seeing you cry.

“sweetheart tell me what happened.”

You told Jude everything through your tears. Jude listened, wiping every year that fell from your eyes. He felt so much hatred for your dad for making you cry. He hated seeing you like this.

When you finished telling him everything, Jude pulled you into his arms and let you cry into his chest as he whispered how you didn’t deserve any of that.

When you finally calmed down you pulled away from Jude. “I’m sorry.” You pulled all the way from Jude and sat beside him on the couch.

“You don’t need to be apologizing. I told you I will always be here when you needed me remember?”

You remembered the night you and Jude broke up with each other. Tears in your eyes as you had your bags packed and ready to go. Before you could walk out of Jude’s place, he stopped you.

“y/n I know we’re not together, but just know I’m always going to be here for you ok?”

You avoided his eyes and nod. You knew if you looked at him you’d start crying. “I know Jude.”

“I remember.” You sigh. “it just hurts so bad.”

“lets stop thinking about him.” Jude got up from the couch making you look up at him.

“he doesn’t deserve your energy. Let’s do something else. Let’s watch a movie or something. We can watch princess diaries. I promise I won’t cringe.”

You laughed for the first time that night. It made Jude smile at his accomplishment.

Jude popped some popcorn and put on the movie for you both to watch. You leaned your head up against his shoulder and rested it there while your eyes stayed on the TV.

You were so close to Jude. Even though it was something you experienced so often before, it felt odd knowing you both weren’t together anymore.

You pulled away from Jude.

“what’s wrong?” he asked you, his whole body shifting to you.

“Jude, do you really want to be broken up?”

Jude exhaled. You watched as he turned away from you, paused briefly then shaking his head.

“no. To be honest I’ve been taking these past few weeks without you horribly.”

He took your hands in his. Your skin tingled at the contact.

“I don’t want to be apart from you. You’re the best part of my life. Our argument was stupid and it shouldn’t have broken us up.”

“you wanna know something?” you whisper to Jude. His eyebrows lifted so you continued. “I don’t even remember what the argument was about.”

Jude smiled at you. “don’t worry about it.” Jude brought his face close to yours. “Let’s start off on a clean slate. How does that sound?”

You looked up into his brown eyes. “I like the sound of that.”

Jude closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you for the first time in what felt like forever.

[sideeve]

SELF CONTROL ⭑ MILES MORALES

⭑ maybe love isn’t the only thing that can keep someone tied to you .

miles morales x f!reader

part 1 — part 2

⭑ miles’ pov , cheating , normal spider-man violence , the spot , miles attempting to win reader back , major spoilers for atsv , arguing

miles’ pov

every thing was stressing him out. fighting with spot wasn’t helping either. while basically punching himself, he was trying to text his parents that he would be a little late.

“can we finish this later? i have a meeting with my parents!” miles yells, trying to web the villain to the wall.

“no! we cannot! i have to kill the thing that-wait! we’re not finished here!” spot attempts to wiggle out of the webs keeping him stuck.

“i’ll catch you later.”

with the spot “done”, miles finally had a moment to breathe. he got a message from you.

mrs. morales 💓 : miles. where r u? ur parents keep asking me and idk what to say😭

mr. morales 🕷️ : just tell them i’ll be there in a moment. had to pick up the cakes :)

he huffs.

everyone needed him at the exact same time. from juggling the responsibility as spider-man and being a boyfriend and son, school. he couldn’t do it all.

his hand slide down his face. “if only gwen were here right now. she’d know what to do.” he looks down at the boxes of cake in his hands before making his way to his apartment.

grounded. for two months. just because he couldn’t tell his parents that he’s spider-man. rage filled in his body. no one understood him. no one. but her.

fuck! he shouldn’t be thinking about her. he has a girlfriend! one that lives him to death too.

but him and gwen are just friends…right?

that thought leads him here. an inch of space left between him and gwen. he would make a mistake tonight that he would gravely regret.

“¡miles! ponte aquí ahora mismo.”

his mouth pulls him out of his trance he gasps out of shock. what the hell was he doing? why is he kissing someone else? where is his girlfriend? what is he going to do?

his eyes looked blown out. thoughts clouded his head, making him unresponsive. “i’m not going to call for you again.” the party fell silent, looking at miles in disbelief.

he didn’t even say a word to gwen nor his mom. he just ran as fast as he could (while also swinging) to you.

out of breath, he knocked on your door.

"hey babe. my mom wanted me to check on you. she said you left early." he lied. he just wanted to know if you knew what he did. "we're done. i can't be with a cheater."

fuck!

"baby. you don't understand-" "go!" you slammed the door in his face. he heard you sobbing behind the door. his heart broke.

what did he do?

he walked home like a kicked puppy. he lost the only one he loved. once he opened his house door, his parents stood in front of him, arms crossed and disappointed. "mama, i-" "no, go to your room. and make it 4 months."

he wasn't even upset, he understood why he was in this situation. he had hurt you. and there was no way to take it back.

cut to when miles meets miguel

"every spider person has lost someone close to them. that is what makes us who we are." miguel stands before miles, making him look small. the holograms of spidermen and women crouching over their loved one's dead bodies. then there was him. crouching over you.

"my canon event is my girlfriend dying?" "ex-girlfriend. and yes. i'm sorry miles. but this can't be changed." every ounce of rage when to his fists. "no! it can't be her! i gotta save her."

“miles. you know we can’t let you do that.” a disk slides under him, creating a force field around him.

“miguel! that’s enough!” the yelling from the spider society was overwhelming him. ontop of the fact that you are going to die.

in his arms.

[aingeal98]

Idk if you wrote about it in the past, but thoughts about a potential Stephcass wedding? How it would play out, what they wear etc. With those women it could be interesting lol

I'd like to see you tackle that in a story if you wanted to, considering you write fanfiction and did a really good job imo with this ship.

OK so I actually have a detailed idea in my head of how stephcass plays out in the future that starts with them getting together, breaking up because Cass grows even more intense in her commitment to the mission once she becomes Batman, and then a year or two later Cass showing up in Steph's apartment with a kid being like hey I rescued this kid from being forced to be a child assassin but his parents are dead and idk what to do pls help.

And Steph is like we haven't talked in five months are you fucking kidding me. But she's not a monster and Cass looks way over her head so the two of them start kind of coparenting this kid because Cass understands the assassin aspect but she has no idea what school supplies a 10 year old might need. And then one thing leads to another and it turns out Cass may actually be worse at this adoption addiction than Bruce is because despite her firm belief that she is not capable of being a good mother she is also unwilling to Not help any child assassin she meets. And often that includes adoption because there is no other family uniquely capable of understanding the trauma these kids are going through.

(Cass meets an alarming amount of child assassins. She doesn't adopt ALL of them because they don't all need that specific type of help. Steph is still mildly concerned and not just because her apartment is getting way too full even though all the kids technically live at the manor and Steph is just a family friend.)

So in my mind they do everything backwards. They're exes then they're coparents then they're kind of rekindling things and then five years after Cass adopts the first kid she's like hey do you want to have a baby together because I didn't think I'd be a good mom but I actually really love helping these kids and I really like doing this with you and I think I'm actually ready to be both Batman and the mother of a baby. I get why Bruce was scared but I'm built different so I simply won't die and this kid will grow up happy and loved and I'll teach it everything I know and you can teach it important life stuff like what the settings on the washing machine actually mean and why certain clothes need dry cleaning.

And Steph is like woah that's a lot to process but Cass babe you have to ask me on a date first. And Cass is like have we not already been dating for a few years now? And Steph is like no showing up on my doorstep with a kid who needs a good meal, a shower and medical attention is not actually a date. Neither is attending those little league games together or patrolling together. If you're going to ask me to have a baby I'm going to need a ring on this finger and you're going to have to work for it.

So they date, and then they get married, and they have a bunch more kids most of whom are adopted or fostered. By the time Cass is forty she has five kids, the oldest of whom she adopted as a 10 year old and is now 21. And she and Steph have been married for five years technically but have been coparenting for eleven.

The wedding itself would be pretty straightforward, if more extravagant than normal. Cass wears a suit and is mildly uncomfortable with having to talk about her feelings in front of an entire audience. Steph wears a dress and can't stop smiling because god she loves this woman so much even though she can be a dumbass sometimes. Especially because she can be a dumbass sometimes actually.

The whole family is there. Bruce cries. Crystal makes snide but deserved comments at him the entire time. Tim was asked by both women to be their best man and almost spiraled into another self destructive slump from trying to process all the emotions he felt about that. In the end Cass takes Babs with Bruce walking her up the aisle and Steph takes Tim, who still looks mildly terrified throughout the entire ceremony, like one wrong move from him is going to bring the entire building down on top of them.

Two of Cass's enemies do show up to try and ruin the wedding but unfortunately for them they end up making it so much better instead because Cass gets to kiss her wife AND punch some bad guys in the face all in the same event. She's having the time of her life. What the hell was Bruce so afraid of this marriage thing is EASY.

(It's not easy. Cass is able to balance the mission and her family better than Bruce but that doesn't mean problems don't exist. The kids are used to at least one fight every six months where Steph basically yells at Cass for all the ways she's been letting Batman responsibilities come between them and Cass is like psh I don't know what you're talking about and then gets her act together because she does in fact know what Steph is talking about. She takes Steph to Themyscira on a vacation as an apology. She doesn't repeat her mistakes but she does make new ones because it turns out there are infinite ways you can mess up when raising kids especially when your work is being Batman and you're never going to stop. Steph messes up too although her mistakes are less to do with work life balance and more to do with hurtful comments made during arguments that she regrets. It's never anything bad enough to break them up again, and for the most part they're shockingly the most healthy and well adjusted pairing of the family. Damian takes great joy in reminding Tim of this fact.)

I've basically just written an abridged version of a very long fanfic idea that exists in my head haha but thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to ramble about this!

[leclerc-s]

track 005. jugaste y sufrí

─── ❝ yo ya no quiero sufrir, quiero ser feliz ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

lando norris so i guess oscar unknowingly became a dad??

ollie bearman why is that where you brain immediately goes?

mae jones his brain needs to be studied under a microscope.

checo perez can i leave now?

dulce perez si yo tengo que sufrir tú también tío! checo perez ya me voy. daniel jones-ricciardo unless austin shows up in texas or vegas. checo perez mierda.

fernando alonso sergio! there are children here!

bailey winters have any of you tried locking them in a closet?

penelope trevino hmm. that might work.

ollie bearman what she needs is therapy. sebastian literally said she was afraid of falling in love. AUSTIN MADE HER CRY IN MIAMI!

arthur leclerc she would've cried over anything. she's an emotional person.

dulce perez have you see the group picture? max verstappen she was crying over tangled.

daphne jones-ricciardo i cry over tangled too. it's a beautiful movie.

pierre gasly that's because you are rapunzel and daniel is flynn rider.

arthur leclerc but yes, she does need therapy.

logan sargeant has anyone seen oscar? we were supposed to meet up for lunch?

oscar piastri i forgot sorry. logan sargeant YOU DITCHED ME?

max verstappen go have lunch with zoya or something.

zoya torres what the fuck? why are you signing me up for things? max verstappen if you show up one more time to my apartment crying over your ex and hoping to steal my cats were going to have problems. zoya torres it was only twice. mae jones it's been 7, he started keeping track. there is a board on our fridge and everything.

dulce perez hey, you know who else is missing?

daniel ricciardo-jones SHUT UP!

ollie bearman she's with me!

isabella perez i am not missing dulce! i told tio checo where i was going

logan sargeant oh it must be nice to not get ditched by your friends. i wouldn't know BECAUSE OSCAR'S A TRAITOR!

oscar piastri how exactly is it my fault that thing 1 and thing 2 showed up at my hotel room at 6:30 in the morning and dragged me out to breakfast?

ollie bearman you're lucky it was 6:30 isa dragged me out of bed at 6. isabella perez WE LITERALLY MADE PLANS THE NIGHT BEFORE OLIVER!

fernando alonso i was unaware isabella and oscar had acquired a grid child

oscar piastri bella has a grid child not me. i don't want him ollie bearman you're a horrible father. ollie bearman i hope you dnf in monaco oscar piastri i'm not your dad! ollie bearman good. i wouldn’t want you as my father. you’re horrible and you suck! isabella perez oh great, now you've made him sad oscar!

oscarpiastri, isabellaperez, and olliebearman posted new stories

i'm going to die with her behind the wheel. that smile is plotting murder. what is it with drivers and showing up in team gear to everything? they will also sleep anywhere, as shown by ollie. i feel like i'm interrupting something.

alex albon did you or did you not go out on a date with oscar?

isabella perez no, i did not go out on a date with oscar.

george russell i call bullshit! i saw ollie’s story! esteban ocon i agree.

charles leclerc wasn’t she out with oscar and ollie? how is that a date?

pierre gasly aww a family date! isabella perez i’m going to murder you gasly

natalia ruiz boys, leave her alone.

isabella perez it wasn’t a date! ollie was there!

alex albon which means if ollie wasn’t there it totally would’ve been a date

lewis hamilton when will the day come where all of you learn to mind your own business?

pierre gasly pretty much never

mae jones isa, it was a fucking date if i’ve ever seen one. trust me on this one.

isabella perez yes, i'll take advice from the people who had a fwb relationship, a situationship, and someone who broke up with her ex because she was afraid.

isabella perez really the only one's who should be giving me advice are esteban, george, alex, and lewis.

pierre gasly you're mean sometimes.

mae jones and for the record i wasn't afraid!

alex albon explain things i wish you said? charles leclerc or you're losing me? esteban ocon or exile? mae jones OKAY I GET IT!

sooo, how'd the date go?

it wasn't a date logan.

oh sure and ollie wasn't third wheeling the two of you.

he wasn't?

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST HAVE YOU SEEN HIS STORY?? YOU ARE IN L-O-V-E!!

how can i be in love?? i barely know her

okay, fine, you have a crush on her.

no, i don't.

yes, you do. i know you pastry!

you don't know shit. i don't have a crush on her.

oscar, either i'm fucking blind or you're stupid but you, my australian friend, have a massive crush on her.

fuck off

no, i don't

sure buddy, and i'm not from miami

but you are?

exactly my point.

logan sargeant he's got the l-word

lando norris leprosy??

daniel jones-ricciardo how the fuck did your mind go to leprosy?

lando norris bailey and i watched ice age last night.

bailey winters max, you're performance in that movie was amazing

max verstappen i will take lando out.

pierre gasly the way his season's going he'll take himself out first. lando norris literally fuck you gasly. i know you and esteban are going to take each other out at least once this season.

logan sargeant OSCAR'S IN LOVE!!

arthur leclerc WITH WHO?? logan sargeant i cannot believe that sentence just came out of your brain.

dulce perez my sister i assume??

logan sargeant well, it's more like a crush but that counts right??

daphne jones-ricciardo and you came to this conclusion how?

logan sargeant denial is always the first sign, no?

carlos sainz it is like lando when he said he wasn't in love with bailey! lando norris we are not talking about me.

isabellaperez posted a new story

paddock dad isabella, are you okay?

super max are you depressed? honey badger did austin call again?

duckling i'm okay. i think.

duckling i'm feeling things. i don't know if they're good or bad.

paddock dad therapy helps. duckling so i've heard.

super max good things or bad things?

duckling I DON'T KNOW!!

duckling feels are hard. i don't want them anymore.

paddock dad sorry kid, you're stuck with them forever. duckling SEB! MAKE THEM GO AWAY!! paddock dad i can't isa. you have to face them.

duckling here's a thought, what if i don't? i could ignore them, they'll go away eventually.

super max you've already tried that isa. it's not working out that great for you.

honey badger already tried that kiddo. maybe it's time to talk to someone?

duckling i'll call my mom!

paddock dad that's better than one of us.

isabellaperez posted new stories

my mother won't answer the phone, who's more important than me?? her baby?? her pride and joy??

nothing like a good ole lana song to cry too.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @anytimeanywherebitchblog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @lorenaskaspersen @sarah-thatstings-ann @My-fangirling-outlet

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

click here to be added to the honest series taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! OLLIE IN F1!! LET'S GOO!! i also couldn't help myself including that ice age joke. does this qualify as angst?? i don't think so? this has also been sitting in my drafts for ages.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[oshinohoshi]

Regarding Hikaru's culpability in Ai's death

The question of whether Hikaru meant to hurt Ai is still up in the air but in this post I'm going to make an extremely messy argument that Hikaru loved Ai and didn't mean to kill her!

Above: Hikaru said Ai had selfish and cruel sides (more like extremely avoidant tendencies but I digress) but there's no menace to his tone. He believed it was only natural for her to leave him.

I will say that Hikaru's below statement from ch 160 is pretty weird, especially after just learning that Ai loved him. Is that how he saw Ai? As a woman who deceived him and tried to make him obey her?

It does kind of align with the below Fatal lyrics which I can't see as anything other than a Hikaru song:

You have given me a fatal flaw Selfish giant star, ruined lives

I think both things can be true. He didn't hate Ai. He loved her more than anything. But he was bitter because he thought she didn't care about him.

He created a warped view of their relationship in which he was never loved or needed. But that bitterness, even anger at times, never appears to have devolved into murderous intent. Not when he was still so soft on her despite some of his more accusatory statements.

OK you're saying he didn't mean to kill her. But what about this?

I don't know, man. I just don't know. It's so antithetical to everything we know about him. It's one thing to lash out in a moment of pain but a slow burn manipulation like this requires intention. There's two explanations I can come up with.

He was twisting the screws for another reason. Maybe he wanted to exert control because he felt so powerless over the situation with Ai. Or perhaps he wanted a fellow Ai fanatic. Someone who would understand her significance.

Aqua is wrong.

But why did he change his story from stating he wanted Ryosuke to scare Ai (you fucking idiot, Hikaru) to just giving her a bouquet?

I'm a bit stumped here too. This guy is supposedly a master manipulator yet he couldn't keep his story straight?

Perhaps both of these were his motives but I don't know why he didn't say that from the start. I just don't think this is proof that he lied because it's not hard to keep such a basic story straight.

The best explanation I can come up with is that he told Ryosuke the address in a fit of anger and despair. He thought Ryosuke would scare her. He then gave him the bouquet. It was an "I love you/I want you to feel my pain" message for Ai.

OK, but if Aqua was right about Hikaru manipulating Ryosuke, then he knew Ryosuke was an Ai fanatic who could go off the rails in an instant. Especially if he learned that Ryosuke killed Gorou. And anyway, what the hell did he think he was going to do to scare her?

Augh. I'm just going to hope that Nino filled Hikaru in on Gorou's murder after Ryosuke died and therefore he didn't realize that Ryosuke was dangerous. As for what he thought Rysouke would do... I dunno. Give her the bouquet and glower at her? Tell her he knew about her kids?

My man was an idiot but I don't think that makes him a killer in this case. I mean, it would be scary enough for a fan to show up at your door with flowers from your ex.

My last piece of evidence that Hikaru didn't want to hurt Ai is that he was desperate to ensure nobody would surpass her, he wanted to feel her presence, and imo he was trying to preserve her memory.

Offing Ai is the opposite of all those things. He said that he killed Ai out of spite but I don't think that we're meant to take that literally.

Those panels at the top of my post and his obsessive adoration of Ai make it hard for me to believe he would try to harm her. Instead, he blamed himself - rightfully so - for sending Ryosuke to Ai's apartment and that's what he meant by killing her out of spite.

But this goddamn back and forth is why I'm so frustrated with Hikaru's characterization.

Is he a man who loved Ai, inadvertently caused her to die, and then spiraled into madness fueled by grief and guilt? Or is he a man who loved Ai, used Ryosuke to kill her, and then spiraled into madness because he regretted his actions?

Well, aside from all the reasons presented above, the story never explicitly tells us that he tried to kill Ai. Given that Crow Girl walks around spouting monologues about who is doing what and why, and Hikaru never thought about how he tried to murder Ai in his final moments, I've settled on: Hikaru is by no means an innocent man but he never wanted Ai dead.

I rest my case. It was shaky but I did my best.

[missmonsters2]

⚡ Scared of thunderstorms

🫂 Comforting hugs

With Tara>>>>

If you don't wanna that's okay but thank you😭

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader/OFC

Warnings: hurt/comfort. exes trope. Tara is so slkdfjds. unbeta'd we die like ghostface.

Library Blog | AO3

Note: you saying it's okay if i don't wanna is so cute for some reason. I already did a thunderstorm & hug tara prompt, so I hope it's okay I made this hurt/comfort to change it up 😭

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷🗡⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're in the middle of grocery shopping when your phone vibrates in your pocket, disrupting the music playing from your earbuds. You pull out your phone from your back pocket, looking at the screen before pursing your lip.

You debate whether to answer it or not, but the lingering anxiety under your skin doesn't allow you to ignore it.

With a puff of a quiet sigh, you answer. "Hey, Sam," you greet, slightly wary. 

"Hey," Sam greets back, and through the phone, you can hear the rain outside, and you know she must be standing near a window. There's a rumble of thunder, and your heart drops, knowing why she's called. "Listen, I wouldn't call you unless it was—"

"The last resort?" You finish her sentence and hear a resigned sigh on the other end. "Sam, I can't keep doing this—not after everything Tara put me through."

"I know," the words are terse, and you can practically hear Sam swallowing. "But no one can calm her down. Please—" Sam's voice is pleading desperately. "The neighbors are going to complain, and the landlord isn't exactly thrilled with us."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. Thunder rumbles, and you hear noises in the background, sighing in resignation, abandoning your grocery-filled cart. "Fine, I'll be there in 15 minutes."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷🗡⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're mostly dry when Mindy lets you through the door as you bring an umbrella. 

"Hey, stranger," Mindy greets you with a lopsided smile that seems sad. "Nice to see your face."

"Nice to see yours, too," you give a small smile back. It was good to see Mindy, you admit. Her witty and charming personality had been refreshing to be around. You grin. "Well, mostly."

"Fuck you," Mindy's smile turns amused. "My face could cure any ailment."

"Considering you got stabbed six months ago, I'll let you have that."

Mindy snorts as you walk through the apartment. You see Chad hanging by a bedroom door, and you give him a terse smile that he returns. 

"Are they in there?" You ask, and Chad nods, looking reluctant to tell you. 

"Yeah," Chad's jaw is clenched. "We've been trying to get her to sit down but she refuses."

You nod, running your hand through your hair nervously as you step past him, pushing the door open. 

"Tara, please, just sit down. It's just a little thunder, is all," You see Sam immediately, and Tara's standing far from the window, pacing back and forth with tears running down her face as she cries, looking manic. 

Sam notices you immediately, relief on her face, and you nod at her. She touches your shoulder, asking if you want to be alone.

Your first instinct is to say no, but you can't bear having Sam witness what's about to happen. So, you nod, trying to appear less tense. Sam notices, anyway, giving you an apologetic look before she exits the room. 

Tara doesn't even notice you initially, and you feel rooted in where you stand. But then, a white flash fills the room, and Tara looks at the window terrified, and you know you only have seconds before she starts screaming. 

"Tara," you say, forcing your voice to be louder than the rain. The sound of your voice snaps Tara's attention to you. Her eyes instantly well up at the sight of you as she rushes across the room toward you, throwing her arms around your waist as she holds you tightly. 

Your arms automatically return her hold, embracing her tenaciously in a way you know makes her feel safe. 

Her face is pressed into your neck, and you can feel the dampness of her eyes. Your name keeps falling from her lips repeatedly as she grasps at the back of your shirt. 

"Tara," you whisper, and she can only hear it through the vibration against her temple. "Tara, it's okay. I'm here."

"I'm sorry," Tara chokes out. "I'm so, so sorry." 

You swallow harshly, clenching your jaw as if it will ease the pain you feel in your chest. You know Tara's not apologizing for making you come here tonight. She's apologizing for the fact you're not here in the first place. 

Tara's saying sorry for accusing you so harshly that you were Ghostface. There was a part of you that understood it and forgave her for it, knowing the circumstances of her life and the fact that you're never supposed to trust the love interest. 

Tara's saying sorry for leaving you with a broken heart instead of letting you prove it wasn't you—and you would've done anything to prove it if you were given a chance. 

"It's okay," you rub her back soothingly to calm her down.

But it wasn't. 

"That doesn't matter."

At least, right now, it didn't. 

You walk with Tara in your arms, guiding her to her bed. She almost refuses to leave your arms, but you keep your hands on her as you climb into bed beside her. You lift your arm over her shoulder and pull her close as she rests her cheek against your collarbone. 

Tara is still crying as she adjusts and rests on her side, pressed against you. Her eyes are closed from exhaustion, but she refuses to sleep. Her brain is running amuck between fear of the thunderstorm and fear of you being gone when she wakes up. 

Tara knew it wasn't fair to you, but all she could do was think about how to keep you here and get you back. 

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I miss you."

"Me too," you reluctantly admit with a sigh. 

"I know it's my fault," Tara whispers, "but I don't want to be without you."

You lean your head back, telling yourself to forget everything for now and enjoy holding someone you still love, even if they broke your heart. 

"Let's just talk after the thunderstorm, okay?"

Tara's hand moves to yours and grasp it, feeling better that you don't pull away. "Okay."

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 10

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1536

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

“...Rheena, yes she came here recently, but then she left. She said she was leaving. If only I had known she was going to die that night, I wouldn't have let her leave.” Said Minho, looking very concerned about the whole situation.  

“Did Rheena have any enemies? Someone in particular wanted revenge on her, maybe?” The senior sergeant inquired. 

“No, at least I don't know anything about them.” Minho answered the police officers' questions calmly and honestly. Or at least it may have seemed that way. You watched his body language. You looked for something that would confirm your earlier guesses. However, you were unable to pick up anything of the sort.

“What were you doing the night of the murder?” Asked the senior sergeant. His colleague began to take notes. 

“I was at the apartment of my girlfriend, Y/N. We spent the evening together and went to bed.”

“Can your girlfriend confirm this?”

“Yes.” You replied. “We spent the night together.”

“Is that all, officer?” Minho asked, watching as the junior officer wrote something down on a piece of paper. 

“Yes, that's all.” Sergeant Bhang replied. “I have no more questions.”

The policemen left the apartment of Minho, who bid them farewell with a smile. He closed the door behind them and returned to the living room, where you were sitting. He sat right next to you on the couch, not speaking. You broke the silence between you.

“I heard on the news today about this murder...” You began. “How can you be so calm? After all, your ex-girlfriend is dead.”

“I know.” He replied, placing his hand on your knee. He began to run gentle circles over it. “But I can't do anything about it anymore. Rheena is dead and it is what it is.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“What do you mean, it is what it is! Minho, you said yourself that you would get rid of her, and now she's dead. Do you have anything to do with this?”

“Are you suggesting that I could kill her?” He asked, looking at you in disbelief. “That I could have treated her so brutally? To rape and strangle her and then throw her in the lake? And just because I said she wouldn't bother you again? Don't make me laugh Y/N, I'm not a monster.”

“No... just... you just seemed too calm to me...” You muttered. “Sorry, that's not what I meant.”

You fell silent. You sighed quietly and plunged into your thoughts. There was something in Minho's words that made you doubt his sincerity even more. After all, no one said anything about Rheena's body being thrown into the lake. The police officers didn't mention anything, and the TV only talked about conjecture. 

“Never mind...” A man interrupted your thoughts. “I have the evening off, would you like to go out somewhere perhaps?”

“What, no, I don't feel like it... besides, I should go back to my apartment. I don't want to bother you. And I have class tomorrow, I have to go to it eventually.”

“You don't have to and you won't go.” He said suddenly, looking at you, and the grip on your knee became a little firmer. “I told the university that you're sick and you're off until the end of the week. And I won't let you go to the apartment alone, since there is a murderer prowling the city. You stay here.”

“What? But you can't forbid me to leave your apartment... I don't want to stay here. I'm leaving.”

As you said, so you tried to do. You brushed his hand off your knee and got up from the couch. With a quick step, you moved toward the exit door. Minho moved behind you. You reached for the handle and pressed on it, but the door did not open.

“Y/N come on.” Said Minho standing right behind you. “It's not safe outside. There's been a lot going on lately. Come let's watch something and relax a bit.”

“I want to go home!” You replied, turning toward him. 

“But I don't want that. In our agreement you are supposed to do what I want. Have you forgotten?” His tone changed a bit. He became more firm and sharp.

“And what, are you going to keep me here against my will?”  You felt anger rising inside you. “What about saying you're not forcing me to do anything, huh?”

“Kitten." He approached you with a slow step. You leaned against the door with your back and looked at him with big eyes. Minho hovered over you, resting his hands on either side of your head. “I don't want you to get hurt, is that clear? It's dangerous outside. I don't want to hear tomorrow morning that they found your beautiful body somewhere in the bushes, okay? I'm just worried... In the morning I'll drive you back to your apartment if you want it so badly, but tonight stay this night with me still. You'll be safe here.” Saying this he stroked your cheek gently with his hand. “You are scared and overwhelmed with information. You need to rest.”

You sighed quietly, but agreed with him. In fact, you were overwhelmed with information. There were many things you still did not understand. However, you knew that Minho was not as nice and good a man as he posed to be. Nevertheless, you agreed to his proposal. 

The man led you back to the living room and seated you on the couch. He handed you a blanket and disappeared into the kitchen himself. You looked behind him. You watched him prepare the snacks. He came back to you after a while, placing a plate of snacks on the coffee table, right in front of you. He smiled slightly at you and sat down next to you. 

“ So, what do you want to watch?” He asked, to which you shrugged your shoulders. 

“I don't know, you pick something.” You replied while reaching for a piece of chocolate.

Minho wordlessly turned on the movie. You began to watch. Silence reigned between you. Your thoughts were absent. You wondered who Minho really was? Was he really just a lecturer? You suddenly remembered that Rheena had called him Lee Know. You decided to ask him about it.

“Minho?”

“Yes kitten?” He looked at you, tearing his gaze away from the TV. 

“Rheena named you Lee Know. Why?”

“Hm? I don't know... Maybe she got something wrong? Don't bother with it. It really doesn't matter now.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders. 

“And what does it matter?” Asked the question in a tired voice.

“Only that you are safe... and mine.” He replied, smiling gently at you. 

You rested your head against his shoulder. He stroked your body gently, and after a while covered you with a blanket. He had to watch himself now so that you didn't start suspecting anything. All that mattered to him was your welfare, and anyone who wanted to threaten you had to be eliminated. 

Such was the case with Rheena. His ex was jealous of every woman who appeared in his life. Minho was fed up with this. The decision to get rid of the problem posed by the blonde was not an easy one. After all, they once lived together, and Rheena was ultimately going to become his wife. But things had changed, and Minho had been avoiding her like hell ever since. 

However, by coming to his apartment and lying to YOU, HIS Y/N, she crossed the line. He had to do something, to punish the blonde so that she would not bother you again. That's why he asked his old friend for help. He got rid of the problem once and for all, and only he knew the truth and what really happened. Now, he just had to make sure that you didn't find out the truth. Minho knew that he would do anything to make you stay with him forever, and the truth would only sink him.That was the only thing he was sure of. 

You fell asleep leaning your head against his shoulder. The man smiled slightly. She's so cute asleep...cute and mine, he thought. He slid gently out from under your body and stood up, then lifted you from the couch and carried you to the bed. He laid you down on the soft mattress and then covered you. He left you a short message on a note, which he placed on the bedside table next to the bed. He then left the apartment and closed the door behind him on all the locks. He should have time before you got up, but the fear that you might run away from him was too strong. He sighed quietly as he walked outside. He took a quiet breath, and the night air spread through his nostrils. 

“Time to take care of the next problem.” He muttered to himself and got into his car, driving off toward the forest. He knew that he was the only one who could protect you, and that involved committing criminal acts. However, he was ready to do the right thing to keep his girlfriend safe.

——————————

<- Part 9 | Part 11 ->

-> Series Masterlist

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict, @syedazarintasnim, @palindrome969, @biujulia

[helaelaemond]

For your Kinktober, may I please request Billy fucking his ex-girlfriend? They see each other again somewhere (maybe a party with mutual friends). Clothed sex, some dry humping if possible, Billy being possessive. You can make this dark if you want. Thank you, ily ♡

HELAELAEMOND'S KINKTOBER

Pairing:  Billy Washington x ex girlfriend!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: it's the first time you've seen Billy since you've been back in the UK. It's an old friend's engagement party, and the love of your life - the one you lost - is there.

Part of It's All For You Billy!verse - reader and Billy were childhood friends, and on the cusp of adulthood, they took their friendship to a deep and meaningful love. However, as the years went by, reader tried harder and harder to build a better life despite life pushing back, whilst Billy let it overwhelm him. Despite their good relationship, reader wanted more from life than what he could offer, and she took a job overseas that he couldn't follow her to. In the years apart, he found Becky, and things got worse. Much worse. Cransted happened two years ago now, and reader is back in London, ready to continue her better life.

Dry humping, breast worship/nipple play, praise, penetrative sex

Content warning(s): infidelity, rough sex, choking, spitting, dubcon elements, angst

KINK CATEGORIES: Infidelity, clothed sex, possessiveness

Rating: E

Masterlist

"Hey, here she is!"

You laugh in delight as the front door is opened by your old friend Tommy, and he throws his arms around you. "Alright, mate?"

"God, you're a sight for sore eyes! Come on in! Party's started!"

You remember this house. It's where your afterprom happened, ten years ago now. In the front room is where Billy kissed you for the first time. Tommy used to live here with his parents, but they sold it to him a few years ago for a steal, and so it's here that his engagement party is happening. How so much can change. How so much stays the same.

His girlfriend - no, fiancée - is one of your old friends, too, and Sofia greets you. She remarks on how much the Balearics have agreed with you and you laugh at the praise. You hand her the bottle of prosecco you've come armed with and she thanks you cheerful. Together, you go to the kitchen and begin pouring it into plastic flutes. She tasks you with passing them round the guests, many of whom you know from back in the day, and you do it happily.

It's been years since you've seen most of them, but here in this house, in this time of joy, it feels like no time has passed at all. All the faces blur into one after a while. It's nice, but it's also a little overwhelming. Thankfully, most people are gathered in the kitchen and garden, and you slip into the front room for a moment of solitude. Without looking, you close the door and press your forehead against it to take in a deep breath.

"Oh. Um. Hi."

You freeze.

It's him.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Swallowing, you turn around and plaster a stiff smile on your face. "Billy! Hi!"

There's a can of Stella in his hands and he's doing his best to appear relaxed on the sofa, but the way that he taps the top of it gives him away. "How's it going?"

You could die right there, you really could. After everything, he's asking... how it's going? "It's good, it's good!" The sweetness in your voice is sticky. "Just got back, so it's kind of crazy, moving into a new place, you know, but it's exciting!"

"Hmm." He lifts his eyebrows as he nods slightly. "Yeah, heard you were back. Mum told me you stopped by hers looking for me."

You grit your teeth. Hopefully, your smile doesn't turn to a grimace. "I didn't know where else to look. And as you blocked me on everything, there wasn't much else I could do."

"You didn't have to look for me."

"I can go, if my presence is really bothering you." This is not the Billy that you missed - bitter, miserable. This is the one you tried to stop him from becoming. Maybe the old Billy is in there somewhere, but...

"Wait!" Your hand is on the doorknob when he stands up suddenly. "No, don't. I'm sorry. I just... it's a bit much."

"I didn't know you were in here, I swear," you reply softly. "I just needed a moment to myself."

He nods in understanding. "Sit with me. I won't be a dick, I promise."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep." But your words are kinder now, the grimace gone. You sit down on the sofa together, and he offers you his can. You take a grateful sip from it. It's bitter. You haven't had a Stella since you left him. God, the taste makes a whole world rush back. The tears in your eyes are sudden and stinging; you blink them away as best you can.

"I regretted it for a long time, you know?"

"What did you regret, Billy?"

His head is against the back of the sofa and his eyes are closed. The slope of his throat is smooth, the line of his Adam's apple so familiar. Memories of kissing him there flood your mind, making it hard to concentrate. His hair is the same as it always was, dusky blond and soft, flopping over his forehead. How sweet he used to sound when you pulled it.

"Not trying harder for you."

"Oh, Billy-"

"I shouldn't have let you go."

"It's all in the past now."

Licking his lips, he looks over at you. "Is it?"

You nod sadly. "Too much has happened."

"Like what?" And then, he takes the beer from your hand and puts it on the floor, and his knuckles brush your thigh. "Looking at you now feels like before."

You stand up as anger rises in you, sadness, too. "It's a memory you want, not a future."

"No, it's not."

"I know you, Billy. You want something that's easy, and memories are easier than reality."

"Don't be like that."

You face him, standing in front of him, and any softness has left you now. "I know about Becky, Billy. I know about it all."

He looks down. He's not wearing a ring. "I don't wanna talk about that."

The thin grasp on your emotions breaks. "I waited for you! When I left you, I told you that one day, I'd come back, and until then, I'd wait for you! That I'd build a life for myself that you can be a part of if you waited for me, too! And you didn't wait!"

"I wanted to. But-"

"But what?"

"How could I have believed someone better wouldn't come along?"

You blink and straighten up. "You wanted someone better?"

"No!" he says in alarm. "No, I mean someone better for you! God, I mean, look at you! You're... you're everything, and I'm just... just-"

"You were everything to me, Billy. And I waited, I fucking waited. There's been no one since you, not even a date. And yet I come back home after building the life I promised you, to find that you're married and with a kid!"

His eyes are getting red. He licks his lips and nods almost nervously. "Yeah, I'm married. To a woman I don't love, with a kid that's gonna grow up to hate me."

"Is that supposed to make me pity you?"

"I don't need anyone's pity, least of all yours."

With his words ringing in your ears, you turn on your heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you. He kissed you for the first time in that room. It's not the first time he's broken your heart, though.

Sofia catches you on her way to the loo, and sees the anger in your face. She drags you upstairs into her bedroom, and you tell her about Billy. She comforts you, reassuring you that yes, this is her engagement party, but you're her friend, and she doesn't mind that you need her now.

When Billy appears in the doorway, she stands in front of you protectively. Assuring her it's alright, she reluctantly leaves you to it.

"But if you make her cry," she warns on her way out, "I will castrate you, William."

The use of his proper name makes you smile faintly. But then his gaze is on you and you're alone again, and he locks the door and it makes you shiver.

He locks the door.

He locks the door.

"What more is there possibly to say?" you ask defensively.

"I need you to understand."

"Understand what?"

This time, it's you that's sitting and him who's looming over you. He's so fucking tall, it could kill you. He used to be so heavy atop you, and you used to wonder if he would crush you. What a way to go, you used to think.

"What happened with Becky."

"Why do you want me to understand?"

He looks at you darkly. "You know."

And you do. It sends a thrill through you. "Then talk."

"The day you left, it's like... it's like something died. I knew you'd have this great life, and I'd never be a part of it again, and that killed me. Do you get that? You were the best part of me, and you left."

"I told you I'd come-"

He holds up his hand to silence you, and you hate how easily it works. His hand is so big. It used to wrap so easily around your throat. You swallow.

"So I fucked my way through the next year to forget you. And you know what? Every single girl I got drunk enough to fuck turned into you. I don't know how many of them heard me say your name. Every single one of them had the same colour hair as you, so when I took them from behind, I could imagine you."

It should make you sick. It's warped, but it makes heat bolt between your legs.

"Then Becky came along. Opposite of you. She looks nothing like you, acts nothing like you, too. We hated each other, but loved each other, too. You and me, we... we were stable. Steady. Becky offered something different. We shouldn't have stayed together, and we broke up for a bit, but then... Cransted."

"You don't have to talk about that." Your voice is softer now. "Your mum told me everything."

"No, no, it's good for me to talk about. That's what Lana says. And my therapist." He takes in a deep breath and continues. "I wasn't ready to die. And in that car, so many thoughts were running through my head. Of course, you were one of them."

You look down at your hands in your lap. What can you possibly say to that?

"Me and Becky got married a month after that. I didn't know what else to do with myself, and we were both fucking scared. We weren't careful and she got pregnant."

"You always wanted to be a dad."

"With the right woman, yeah." He sinks to his knees in front of you, and it's impossible not to notice his dark expression.

'You shouldn't talk like that. She's your wife."

"I wish she wasn't."

He rests his forheead on your bare knee. He pushes the skirt of your dress up. It makes your thighs tense. "Don't."

"I'll do whatever I want."

You stand up angrily. You'll leave him here just like you did in the living room, you don't care-

Before you can unlock the door, Billy presses you against it, his face inches from yours. "You didn't want anyone else but me, did you?"

"That's over now."

"No, it's not." He presses his knee between your thighs and you try not to shiver at the pressure.

"Let me go, Billy!" You hit his chest and try to push him away, but he catches your wrists and pins them above your head.

"You belong to me, don't you?"

"I belong to myself!"

"If that's true, why didn't you look for anyone else? It's been years, baby."

God, how much you used to love that pet name. He'd call you his baby girl, his pretty thing, his sweetheart, while you sucked his cock like you needed it to breathe. Even now, it makes you suck in air.

"Because I was waiting. There's nothing to wait for anymore."

"Liar." And then his lips are on your neck. He lifts up his leg, and your hips grind down. It's instintive. It's desperate.

"Fuck you," you whimper.

"That's it," he encourages. "Let me give you what you need."

"I don't need anything from you."

"Hmm. Such an attitude now." One of his large hands easily pins both of yours above your head, and the other wraps around your neck. Slender fingers find their old place against the vein under your skin, and he presses against it until you feel light-headed. Your eyes droop slightly, and he lets go with a smug smile. "That's it, baby. You gonna admit you want this, now?"

"I don't."

"Don't say that," he whispers against your ear. "It makes my dick hard."

Shivers go through you again. You grind harder against his thigh. "You're sick in the head."

"Sick for you."

"What about your wife?"

And then, he kisses you.

It's rough and deep, his tongue on the inside of your teeth, his lips hard and demanding. You both moan, both your hearts are racing. He forgets about the hand keep you in place, and instead, he uses both of his to yank down the neckline of your dress.

"Fuck, look at you." It's uncomfortable for a moment as he pushes your bra down, but you shrug your shoulders free of the straps, and then his hands pull you free and his fingers are squeezing you just like they used to. Your head drops back against the door, and his familiar mouth finds its way over your breast. He kisses your soft skin, biting and licking across the swell of your flesh until his lips find your hard nipple.

"Remember how I used to make you come from this alone?" he murmurs around your breast.

"No," you protest half-heartedly. Of course you remember. Over the years, you've tried to make yourself finish just by playing with your nipples, but it never worked. Not like it worked with him. "Stop it, we can't-"

"We are."

"Billy-"

"Fuck," he grunts. He pulls away his leg from between yours before grabbing your hips and lifting you up. "I need more."

"Please," you beg. Your body responds before you can even think about it, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He bends down his head to suck on your nipple against as he begins thrusting against you. Through your underwear, and his soft trouers, you can feel his hard cock grind against your cunt.

"Oh, my God," he moans. "God, you feel so good, baby."

"We have to stop!" you beg. But your legs are too tight around him. He grinds against you desperately, like a man possesesd.

"Mine. My pretty girl, you're where you belong. Look at me, now."

Dropping your head against the door, you look at him with heavily-lidded eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his forehead damp. His lip twitches as he thrusts against you.

"Open your mouth."

"No."

"Yes."

"No," you hiss.

With one arm still holding you firmly against the door, he grasps your face and presses your cheeks. It hurts so fucking much and it forces your jaw open. He spits into your mouth. Disgusting. You swallow gratefully.

"That's it," he praises lowly. "You're gonna make me come just doing this, baby."

"Don't call me that." Pleasure is mounting in you already. Just from dry humping, like you're teenagers again. But he makes you feel like a virgin again. And him calling you that doesn't help cool your passion.

"Why not?" He stills his thrusts. "Does it make your clit hard?"

It's impossible to hold back your moan. "Let me go."

He obliges - for a moment. Billy lets you go only to set your feet back on the ground, and then he spins you to press your face against the door, and he pushes up your dress. When he can't push your underwear to the side as much as he wants, he yanks it down. When you refuse to comply with taking it off, he just tears it. It leaves red marks on your thighs, the violent action, and you almost come from the senstation alone.

Fuck Billy Washington.

"God, I can smell you," he groans against your ear. "Did you think about me when you touched yourself for all those years apart?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Glancing over your shoulder, you can't hold back a choked moan. He only pushes down his joggers - couldn't even wear a nice pair of jeans for his mates' party, pathetic - enough to free his cock, and it's as perfect as you remember.

He notices how your mouth hangs open at the sight. "You want it in your sweet mouth, baby?"

"No," you whine.

"Do you suck on dildos and think of me?"

"No."

"I think you do," Billy whispers. Into your hair he presses his forehead, and he looks down as he bends you forward. You resist only a little - and then he's there, pushing you open. "Fuck, you're so perfect."

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes from the absolute need he's driving into you, body and soul. He's not yours anymore - but, God, you're still his. "Billy!"

"I wish you could feel how good you feel," he praises with a strained voice. Once he's fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, as if to drink it all in. "So fucking wet for me. So relaxed. You need this, don't you?"

Resting your head on the door, you shake it. "Fuck you."

"Hmm." He bites your ear and then blows into it, making goosebumps rise along your flesh. "Try again, baby."

"Fuck you."

"You want me to stop?"

You don't reply. The only response he gets is your strained breathing. And then, after a long moment, "no."

"Let me hear it."

You shake your head.

"Please," he whispers, nearly shaking from the restraint it takes to not lose control. "Please say those words I've missed. It'll be so good for you, my sweet girl."

Sweet girl. Baby. It's ridiculous, you know, but those names undo you. "Please," you beg. "Fuck me."

And he does.

He fucking does.

The pace he sets is relentless and brutal. He has to clamp his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he pounds into you again and again, pushing you higher and higher. You bite his palm and fingers in an attempt to stay silent, and the pain you cause makes him hiss.

But it doesn't matter. He's buried inside of you, his hands are all over you, and he's here, he's here, he's here. Billy, your Billy.

"Never again," he grunts between thrusts. "Not letting you go."

"Not leaving," you promise against his hand. Tears are rolling down your cheeks from the stinging pleasure of his cock, from how brutally high he's pushing you, from the years of frustration without him.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You," you babble mindlessly. "And you're mine."

"God, yes, I am," he promises.

The sound of your wet skin slapping together fills the bedroom. Downstairs, the thumping bass of the party hides your noises, you hope. He pushes two fingers into your mouth and you suck on them greedily. He gags you on them just for the delight of hearing you choke. Then he runs them, wet from your spit, down to your freed breast, and rolls your nipple between them. Carefully, he pulls on it, and it's a stark contrast to how hard he's fucking your pussy.

"Close," you moan. "Billy, yes, yes, don't stop, please-! Please-!"

His hard and fast pace is so much. He grunts against your ear, and then his nose is in your hair, and he bites your ear. "C'mon, baby, come on my cock!"

"Touch me," you beg.

And then his fingers are crooked around your clit, flicking and squeezing just how you always liked, and it has you higher and higher and tighter and tighter and the feeling won't let up and you're close, so close, there can't be anywhere else to go-!

"Billy! Billy! B-!" Your orgasm crashes over you in waves that spread through your whole body. You're spiralling, falling, writhing with it, your heart racing and pleasure exploding between your thights, up your chest, over your scalp. Your choked noises make your throat raw, the intensity makes your cheeks wet.

With your cunt still clenching and relaxing in increible aftershocks, Billy pulls out just in time to spill. Roughly, he bites your shoulder to keep quiet, but his name is on your lips. You feel him tremble behind you, how his knees are going weak.

You both stand there for a long moment, your back against his chest, his head in the crook of your neck. Slowly, he pulls your dress back down, and he pushes himself back into his trousers. After that, his hands find your waist. You try to pull away, but he won't let you go.

"Stay," he whispers. "With me."

"Billy," you murmur. The reality of what has just happened begins to sink in. "This... can't happen again."

"It will, though."

When you turn to face him, there is no regret in his face. "It can't."

He strokes your hair back from your face in a gesture that feels just as intimate as what just happened. "I won't let you go again."

"You're married."

"I'll leave her."

"You have a child."

"I love you more."

You shake your head. "You don't mean that."

He doesn't smile. 'What if I do?"

"I... you shouldn't. It's wrong."

"Don't care."

"Billy. You can't leave your wife."

"So you're happy to let me cheat on her with you?"

You wince. "This was a mistake."

"The only mistake either of us made was me letting you go. And I'm never, ever, doing that again." His blue eyes are intense, bearing into you as if he's searching your very soul.

"Never?"

He kisses your forehead. "No matter the cost. Never again."