#this is like the ONE situation where i can excuse the cheating

[miss-allsundays]

hot take: stolas is absolutely fucking right not to feel bad for cheating on stella. the only one that he owes an apology to is octavia, which he DOES!! they talk and he tries to explain that his relationship with her mother has never been good, all while trying not to pit her against stella.

it is also fucking weird how some people want a reason to excuse stella’s behavior so bad. they say they want more nuance to her character but they wouldn’t criticize her this harshly if the roles were reversed and she were the victim

[joelsdagger]

that’s the way road dogs do it || one

joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this one is a little wild; part two is already shaping up to be even more wild. many smooches to my beloveds: @pedrospatch for all the reassurance and support and for beta’ing this bad boy for me, and to @dinandwhiskey for screaming with me about this idea many many moons ago <33

pairing: ex-boyfriend’s dad!joel x f!reader summary: on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past. warnings: [no-outbreak au], big girthy age gap [reader is in her 20’s, joel is 50’s], alcohol consumption, allusions to cheating [not by joel or reader], no sarah or ellie but joel has a son, joel has tattoos and is a biker, pet names [darlin’, baby, kiddo], sexualization of the term kiddo [from the deepest darkest pits of my soul…idfc], a little bit of humiliation, panty sniffing, a teensy bit of fingering, a little manhandling, pervy!joel [he’s also a little fucked up and really unhinged but so am i so whateva], pussy pronouns, dirty talk [umm it gets weird lol], daddy kink, degradation, semi-public sex, rough unprotected p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, dubcon [joel takes pictures of her that she doesn’t verbally consent to], smidgen of angst [ofc bc it’s me], creampie, body marking/writing [use of a pen], soft!joel, reader wears a skirt, has hair, wears makeup, and has two tattoos that are described within the story word count: 8.6k

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

Bad Habits is the bar where you spend every Friday night after work with your friends. It’s always too loud and too bright for your liking. But they serve good booze for a reasonable price and it’s on the way back from your office. Your Friday night usual; stopping at the bar with some friends from work before you bore yourself to sleep by looking over briefings and finalizing notes you need to send over to your boss in time for Monday’s nine am meeting.

You excuse yourself from the booth and head for the bar, plopping yourself on the velvet cushion of a creaky bar stool as you set your purse on the sticky bartop, ordering yourself another drink. Your phone chimes, and you sigh as you pull it out of your purse along with a pen and notepad, knowing it’s an email with a list of requests from your boss. He did tell you he’d send it to you before the end of the night. 

It’s when one of your hands is pressed to your temple, the other scribbling down your boss’ requests on paper when you hear it — a low, gravelly Southern drawl, a voice laced with honey — that you thought you’d never hear again. 

“This seat taken?”

Your pen freezes for a moment; you could pick that voice out of a suspect line-up. It never left you. But you willingly ignore him and decide you’re going to have a little fun of your own with him, so you continue finalizing your thoughts on paper as he situates himself beside you and orders a glass of whiskey while he’s at it. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ sittin’ in a place like this all by herself?�� 

“I’m not alone. My friends are over there,” you throw your thumb, pen in hand, over your shoulder, jutting to your booth. “Just needed another drink,” you say, your eyes never leaving the notepad. 

“Why won’t you let me see your face, darlin?” he asks, head tilting to the side, assessing you. 

You snort. “Why. So you can decide whether or not my face is pretty enough to fuck — Mr. Miller?” Your voice drops an octave at the end of the sentence. 

You finally turn your head so you’re face to face with the man beside you, the father of your ex-boyfriend. 

Surprise flashes across his face; his mouth hangs agape briefly before he shuts it tightly. You watch as the Adam’s apple bops slowly in his throat. For once, the father of your shit-eating, cheating ex-boyfriend doesn’t have a comeback. He clears his throat as he attempts to recover. 

“Didn’t realize it was you, darlin’,” he says gruffly, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. 

You chuckle to yourself a little. “Of course you didn’t. The last time we saw each other was what? A year ago? Maybe more?” you quip. 

“You look different,” he says matter-of-factly, eyes glossing over your figure so quick you almost miss it. 

You raise an eyebrow at him; the corner of your mouth kicks up as you tilt the rim of your glass to your lips, hiding your smirk behind a sip.

“Good. I mean — you look good,” he tips his glass on its heel, eyeing it as he toys with it. 

You tilt your head in a shrug, “I needed a change.”

After Joel Miller’s son cheated on you and broke your heart, after you let the hurt linger for a few weeks and told your sob story to your friends who happily listened, you took their advice. 

You need something new, something fresh, babe. 

It really does help.

You’ll feel like a whole new person. 

Trust me, it’ll be good for you. 

You dyed your hair a few times, until you found a shade that felt more you. You got yourself a whole new wardrobe, something a little less fucking prudish and a little more slutty, and despite the cliché of it all, their suggestions did help to leave that shy, agreeable girl in the dust. The breakup was the last push you needed to leave it all behind. 

And now here you are, a little over a year later, sitting beside your ex’s father, whom you once hated to admit to yourself — no, you never really admitted it to yourself, but you found him attractive. Fuck. Who were you kidding? You didn’t just find Joel Miller, the father of your ex-boyfriend, attractive; you found yourself wanting to open your legs for him more than you did for his son, whom you had been dating for eight months. 

His eyes fall to your chest, trailing down the low cut of your top, and fixating on the peaks of your nipples beneath the tight fabric, and your heart stutters. “Quite the change,” a hint of a glint swimming in his hazel eyes. 

You can’t say the same for him.

You take him in now; he looks almost exactly the same, apart from a few more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. Still, he’s somehow more handsome. 

His tousled salt-and-pepper hair still sits messily on his head, though his beard is lined with more silver than you remember. 

Fuck. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes trail down his body, thick shoulders and thick arms deliciously clad in his black leather jacket, and beneath that, his white t-shirt pulls taut across his broad chest.  

 And oh. 

Joel’s head turns, peering over his shoulder at the sound of glass breaking. Your eyes flick back up and catch a curl of black ink on the tanned skin beneath his collar. That’s new. 

When he turns back, he raises the glass to his lips with a scoff, clouding the inside of it, and the dim light from above the bar catches on the square face of a gold band on his marked pinkie finger. That’s also new. Your eyes don’t miss that his fourth finger still remains devoid of a wedding ring. 

“I have your son to thank for that." You drop your phone, pen, and notepad into your purse, giving him your full attention.

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. Flicks his tongue across his bottom lip before he bites it. Is it a show of anger? Disappointment? You’re not quite sure.

But there is one thing that you are sure of: Joel Miller liked having you around. You knew it. You were aware that his eyes lingered whenever he saw you. You caught it from the very first time. When you showed up at his house, in jeans that clung to you like skin, how you bent at the waist to fish your keys out of his sofa cushion, and in your periphery, caught the subtle tilt of his head to get a better look at how the denim hugged your ass just right, feeling his eyes boring into you, your skin sizzling with heat.

If you’re being honest, you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty or shameful for how Joel looked at you. You basked in how he made you feel; you certainly weren’t getting that kind of attention from his son. He had his eyes (and his dick) on someone else. 

You liked how that very last night you spent at Joel Miller’s house — a fortnight before you broke up with his son — you padded down the hallway to the bathroom in an old skirt that you had outgrown (wearing it only because it was the last of clean bottoms before laundry day), and you overheard Joel Miller in his bedroom, fucking his fist and coming with a gruff groan of your name on his lips.  

You just weren’t sure if he knew that you knew.  

His body twists, props a leg up on the footrest of your bar stool. “What happened between you two? He never talked about it,” he inquires. 

You scoff. “He gets that from you, you know, not talking about things. Think he knows it too.” 

Confusion floods his features. 

Your eyes drop to the inside of your glass. “Your divorce. Jason complained all the time about how neither of you talked about it.”

“There was nothin’ to talk about. She left,” he quips. 

“She cheated on you,” you retort. 

“How did–” 

“He knew, and he watched when you didn’t fight it. Think that’s why he did the same to me.” 

“That kid. Always fucking trouble,” he huffs, then takes a short sip. 

 “Hey, you raised him,” you joke. 

“I didn’t raise him to be a piece of shit,” he bites, shakes his head instantly, eyes meeting yours, and there’s something behind them that you can’t quite place yet.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I just—" You sigh exasperatedly, “I think seeing how you didn’t fight for your marriage, for your wife, messed with him. And as much as I hate him for getting his dick wet in another girl, I think... well, now I know why he did it." Right shoulder tips in a slight shrug. 

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. 

“What?” you ask. 

 “Nothin'—I didn’t expect I’d ever hear you say that.”

 You look at him pointedly. 

 “Gettin’ his dick wet,” he repeats. “I’m not used to hearing you say things like that s’all,” he says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head a little. 

You sigh. “Told you, heartbreak is a hell of a thing.” 

“You didn’t deserve that darlin’, M’sorry,” he soothes. He leans towards you, a heavy hand dropping to your bare thigh, fingers wrapping tightly around it. It takes everything in you not to squeeze your thighs shut at his touch. 

You avert your eyes, scanning the crowd in the bar, your eyes eventually landing on your friends all crammed in the booth before looking back at Joel. “Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” 

His head dips, eyebrows go up in surprise, his expression a slight mixture of shock and guilt. “You really believe that?” 

You flash him a soft smile. You’re not sure that you do, but selfishly, it’s easier than the truth, and whatever it was, you’re not concerned about it anymore. “It’s fine, Mr. Miller, honestly," you clarify. 

His calloused thumb rubs small circles on your thigh; heat radiates there. “How many times, I gotta tell you, it’s Joel,” he insists.

Your eyes roll, “alright. Joel, it’s fine. I’m much happier now.”

“Oh yeah?" His hand releases your thigh; your body feels like it’ll wilt without the heat of his touch. His arms cross over as he leans forward on the bartop. The cuff of his left sleeve raises, revealing ink curling around his wrist. Did he complete his sleeve? You swallow thickly, your eyes lingering. 

"Got yourself a new boyfriend?’” He asks. 

You finally peel your eyes away, arching your brow. “What makes you say that?” 

His boot brushes against your bare ankle as he turns towards you; electricity sparks up your leg and up the base of your spine, awakening a long-dormant need. “Nothin’, just reckon that a pretty thing like yourself has a new stupid college fella.”

You chuckle. “I don’t date, it's not worth my time anymore.” You take a swig of your drink, swallow the tang down, and it mixes with the lick of heat, slowly spreading its way into your veins. You’re trying to tame the surge of energy zipping through your body, but it’s so damn hot beneath the lights lining the bar. And the chatter buzzing around the room, coupled with the weight of Joel’s gaze, isn’t fucking helping. It’s overwhelming, the nerves and arousal taking over, lacing with the alcohol in your system.

“That so?” His voice is a low rumble, dangerous. The corners of his lips twitch; your eyes dart down to them. 

You set your glass down on the dark wood with a clink, and your fingers begin tracing the rim of the glass. “And you?” Your body is warm and humming, something churning deep in your core.

His hazel eyes slowly rake down your body, a hint of hunger in them as they pause at the hem of your skirt, barely covering the place where you need him most; your skin is on fire under the heat of his gaze, and for a moment you have to resist the urge not to pounce on him right there in a bar full of people.

His voice cuts through your reverie as he answers. “Not in the cards for me, darlin’,” his eyes crease before he tips the glass to his lips.

“Guess we got one thing in common,” you sigh and mirror him. 

His eyes never leave yours as he takes a sip, and your chest blooms. Black takes up the hazel hues in his eyes, full of lust, and you think back to all the times you’ve had his attention; only now it’s worse because you can act on it. And maybe it’s the liquid courage in your blood. Maybe it’s some stroke of desire for revenge. Maybe it’s just that — desire. Maybe it’s because you know him. Know by all those times you racked up in your brain of longing stares and fleeting tugs of every nerve of your body.

So you think, with the very obvious throbbing in your core, with desire turning molten and pooling between your thighs that you can no longer ignore, that now is your chance; you’ve got nothing holding either of you back this time.

“You want to get out of here?” Your eyes fall down his body and bite your lip as you take in his broad form again. 

He chuckles darkly. “Can’t leave my crew, sweetheart,” he juts his chin towards an area behind you. Your body twists, and laughter threatens to bubble in your chest when you spot them. Three men, all silver-haired and scruffy beards that cover surly faces, all clad in tethered leather jackets, sit in a corner towards the back of the bar. 

You turn back to Joel with a hint of smirk on your lips. “Aren’t you getting a little old to still be biking around? Shouldn't fossils be encased or padded up or something? You know as they age they don't hold up very well,” you tease. 

He bares his teeth with a crooked grin; the corners of his eyes crease. “Careful, kiddo,” voice a low warning, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind it.

You knock back the rest of your drink swiftly, ignoring how it burns the back of your throat. “Well, that’s too bad,” you start. Driven by the alcohol coursing through your burning veins and the painful ache at the apex of your thighs, your left hand grabs his, rested beneath the bar, and guides it under your skirt and towards your dripping sex. He stiffens, inhaling sharply through his nose as he feels the way the wet fabric clings to the lips of your pussy. You bring your lips to the shell of his ear and drop your voice to make it more deep and velvety — more enticing. “She’s already wet.”

You drop his hand and hop off the barstool and onto wobbly legs, your right hand looping your crossbody over your shoulder, and before your leg even brushes past his, his hand snaps out and wraps around your wrist, dwarfing it in his grasp. 

Without another word, he tugs you behind him, past your table of friends, all too loud and too drunk celebrating the end of another work week to notice the two of you sauntering by. He drags you down the dimly lit hall, and you’re biting your bottom lip, containing the smile that threatens to spread across your face as he shoves you into the bathroom. 

Within seconds, he’s on you, pressing into you so your back slams into the tethered wooden door. Your hands find his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands streaked with gray.

And with his mouth flush with yours, the taste of whiskey and cheap cigars is warm on your tastebuds, and you cannot get enough of it. You've dreamt of what he'd taste like for so long, and it's everything you've ever wanted. His tongue is heavy and hot as he pushes it into your mouth, swirling it around and cutting across your gums, leaving no inch of your mouth uncharted. It’s all rushed and sloppy and hungry, and very quickly does it become clear to you that he’s wanted this — wanted you, just as much as you had from the very beginning. 

Somewhere in the heady haze, you manage to remove your left hand from his dark curls, drifting it south behind your back to slide the greasy lock shut behind you, sealing your fate. 

The sound of the lock clicking in place has Joel maneuvering you towards the sink, your heels scraping against the tile as the both of you drift backwards, tongues still intertwined. 

Your hands fumble with his belt, and at the same time, your mouth skates down his neck, tongue darting out and lapping at the inked skin there. You hum at the taste of warm, salty sweat. As you try to drag the leather out from his silver buckle, you move to drop to your knees. You don’t even get halfway before he’s reaching for your wrists, pulling you back up to stand. “‘S much as I’d like that kiddo, I've been waitin’ too long to get inside this cunt,” he says bluntly, and then he’s taking a step forward, trapping you against the cold ceramic. “If m’gonna come, s'gonna be inside o' her.” 

Your stomach flips at his words, and you can’t deny that the use of that word again makes you want to drop to your knees for him twofold. Instead, Joel drops to one of his, grunting as his denim-clad knee hits the cold tile, and it’s what he does next that manages to shatter all essence of confidence you had tonight.

Joel flicks up your skirt with one large hand while the other grips the back of one of your thighs, and one of your hands finds one of his shoulders, fingers already clinging onto him for dear life as you try to anchor yourself. You’re throbbing for him as his hand drifts north to cup your sex through your damp panties; he tears his gaze away to peer up at you. “How many dicks has this pussy taken since my son?” 

His words strike you hard, and your blood runs as cold as ice. Your breath kicks out of your lungs. That was the last thing you expected him to say. Despite the fact Joel’s eyes often lingered and his breath often wavered in your presence, he always managed to compose himself. You never imagined he'd act on those impulses.

“I–I don’t–” you blink a few times, your brain malfunctioning, trying to find the words. 

“How many,” he taunts, his fingers prod at your lace-covered slit, his thumb applying pressure to your clit through your underwear. 

“I– I don’t know. I can’t remember,” you whisper.

Joel sniggers. “I figured. She’s just a little pocket pussy for us, ain’t she?” A shiver runs up your spine, and he watches you, hazel eyes glimmering in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom, gauging your reaction for a tell, a tick, something, that’ll give him a reason to stop. When you don’t, his head dips down between your thighs, and his strong nose presses up against the damp stain on the front of your skimpy black thong, which was doing a rather poor job of covering your cunt. His eyes close slowly, and he inhales. Long and hard, so hard you can feel his nostrils contracting against you as he breathes in your scent. And it’s not your fault a measly whimper spills from your lips when he does so. 

“This all for me now?” He coaxes, his fingers strumming up and down your slit through the lace. Words fail you as you look down and find his eyes already on yours. You nod once for him. 

“Words, darlin’,” his voice dark, thick fingers shifting your panties aside, exposing you to the cold air and spreading your soft folds apart, toying with your wetness. 

Oh fuck, sneaks past your lips in a whisper, and one of your arms snaps out behind you, hand wrapping around the edge of the sink.  

He tilts his head up, and your eyes fixate on his middle finger that reads, clutch, as the tip pokes into your aching hole. "S’this what you wanted? You oughta ask for it, pretty girl.”

“I want you. Fuck– I want you to fuck me, Joel.” You choke out. 

“Attagirl,” he starts, knees cracking as he stands. “Bend over ‘n let me see her up close this time,” he says with a smirk. 

You obey, and turn to drop your purse beside the sink before placing your hands on the wet countertop. But your eyes don’t find your own reflection in the mirror. Instead, they fall on Joel’s movements behind you and gulp down the near-pathetic excitement and nerves sizzling over you. Joel’s too entranced by the sight before him to pick up how your breath hitches in your throat when his calloused hands push your skirt over the curve of your ass and up to your waist. His sly smirk kicks into a low chuckle as he catches sight of your tattoo on your left ass cheek that reads, daddy’s girl.

You go perfectly still, and a firm hand between your shoulders pushes you forward, your upper body now parallel to the dark countertop. Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, but you can still hear the low whistle he sings from behind you. And then–

“Jesus,” he breathes as he pauses and marvels at you, his gaze shifting up and down your form, goosebumps erupting across your skin as the knuckle of his index finger traces down the small of your back, cold metal from the ring on his pinkie grazes the meat of your ass by happenstance. “Pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” 

And it’s almost like he can’t believe he’s here — with you, thirty years his junior, and his son’s ex-girlfriend, in a bar bathroom, about to ruin not only you but every other woman for himself for the rest of his life.

The liquid courage must’ve kicked into overdrive because you don’t know what compels you to do it, but before you can stop yourself, you call out his name–

“Joel.”

His dark eyes flit upwards to meet yours in the mirror. 

“You gonna stand there and stare all night, or you gonna fill her up?” But the tone of your voice doesn’t make it sound at all like a question, and you don’t mean it to be. 

That seems to pull him back. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ Christ, I didn’t think you’d be this filthy.”

His reaction manages to bring back your confidence, and your lips curl in turn. 

Joel doesn’t waste anymore time. You feel the rough drag of denim against the back of your thighs and hear the metallic clang of his belt and the buzz of his zipper as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans. When he hooks a thick finger underneath your panties, tugging them to the side and over one cheek, you can’t help but clench, and Joel definitely doesn’t miss it. 

He tuts. “Needy little thing too,” he grips his length, thick and heavy in his hand, and lines up the blunt cockhead with your throbbing hole; it winks at him. “Tiny hole’s begging for me to fuck her, ain’t she? Look at her flirtin’ with me,” Joel gloats. 

And the sane part of you wants to cringe at that, but your cunt betrays you and clenches around terrible emptiness again. Joel doesn’t wait for you to respond; his eyes flicker back down to your hole, pushing the wide head of his cock inside, and that spark from earlier ignites. 

“Oh, Christ,” he exhales, his jaw falling loose and eyes going hooded as he enters your warm, wet cunt. You gasp as your own eyes fall shut at the stretch, your face twisting upwards at the sharp sting. You didn’t get to look at it before, but you can feel him. He’s big. Bigger than anything you’ve ever had, and for a second you’re not quite sure he’ll be able to fit. But Joel being Joel means he’s a stubborn bastard. He makes it fit. He pushes himself in, in, in, and you whine, and he groans as your pussy wraps perfectly around every inch of his thick length, sinking in like a dream.

He bottoms out inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix, and you’re gripping the edge of the sink so tight that if it weren’t for Joel fucking you, you’d be worried if your knuckles would break the skin. “Fuck, that’s good,” he breathes, ragged and hard. 

And it is. He feels so good. Stretching your cunt out and carving a place for himself after all this time. All the wanting and pining. Shared glances and stolen moments that you believed to be over the moment you broke up with that bastard of a son have finally led you here with him. 

“Daddy,” pours from your lips involuntarily. Your eyes snap wide open, and you freeze. Joel draws his hips back, cock pulling out from your gaping hole and catching onto it’s head, and before you can scramble your brain for a pathetic excuse of an apology, his lips curl into a snarl, and he slams his hips forward, cock ramming into you full throttle. The force of his thrust so hard, your body jolts forward, and your pelvis collides with the sink.

He doesn’t give you time to recover; Joel sets a fast, unforgiving pace, and with every strong, expert roll of his hips, the edges of your vision begin to blur. And it doesn’t matter how fast he bucks into you; the size of his cock never fails to fill you up to the hilt on every long, punishing stroke. He’s fucking loving it. And so are you. Letting him use you and yanking you back onto his cock by the thin material of your thong, hips snapping back into his like a rubber band. The air quickly fills with delicious wet sounds of your skin slapping against his, your moans and his, and the sharp clink, clink, clink, of metal rattling against you as the movement of your bodies colliding increases. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he says, voice rough with arousal. “Been dreamin’ of this pussy since the first time I laid eyes on ya,” he pants, eyes never leaving where the two of you are connected.

Desperate whimpers and breathy moans spill from your lips, his left hand bruising on your hip. “Caught a glimpse of that pretty young pussy under your skirt. Couldn’t get it out of my damn head. I thought about you n’ fucked my fist every night to that image of you in your slutty little skirt. Too fuckin’ short to cover anything.” Your cunt drools with slick with every word that spills from him; you can feel it on the tops of your inner thighs. The wet suction of your cunt around his cock getting louder and louder and louder. It’s borderline pornographic. 

His voice cuts through the lewd sounds. “Some nights I heard those sweet sounds you made–fucked my fist then too. Were you fakin’ it, baby? Huh. Were you fakin’ it with him? My son ever fuck you this good?” He rambles, grip smarting your flesh. 

Your stomach jolts. Scratch that. That’s the last thing you expected him to say. If your ex-boyfriend’s father fucking you wasn’t going to send you spiraling, then him bringing up his own son while he fucks you dumb certainly will. 

Your mind is abuzz; your brain has gone completely blank. There’s no way you could form a proper word in response, even if you tried. There isn’t a single thought inside your head. It’s too much. Too many things are happening at once. For one, he’s never been this talkative; you were lucky if you got two sentences out of him a year ago. And now he’s asking you if his son fucks as good as he does. 

You don’t answer. You can’t. And he’s not expecting you to. All you can do is whimper and moan while he fucks you with abandon, the way you should have been fucked all those times by his son.

“You don’t gotta answer. I know he didn’t. That boy didn’t know what was good for him if it hit him til he was blue in the face.” And you moan in agreement, still not able to think of a response while his tip jabs at your most sensitive spot. 

“S’okay, you were made to take my cock,” he grits, his ringed finger digging into your skin by the unrelenting grip on your waist. “Made to take mine, not his. Tell me, my cock bigger than his?” 

“Daddy–” you gasp, your cunt flutters around him, and Joel laughs a little at you, a low mocking sound that fuels the fire roiling low in your belly. 

“Course it is,” he murmurs. “You were made for me. So fuckin’ pretty n’ perfect n’  – fuck – so goddamn tight. Tighter than a fleshlight, baby.” He hisses in between sharp thrusts.

“N-” you choke on your words, fresh tears pricking your eyes by the force of him fucking you so hard. 

He clicks his tongue. “You don’t like that, baby? You tellin’ me if I say it again, she won’t fuckin’ squeeze the hell outta me?”

Your cunt answers for you, giving him exactly what he wants and fluttering around him in response.

“S’okay, you can like it. You oughta. This sloppy cunt’s gonna be my new cocksleeve. Gonna blow my load in ya, pump you so full o’me.” 

You squeeze painfully tight around him again and bite your bottom lip to muffle the obscene, broken moan that escapes you. You can’t help but picture what Joel looks like thrusting himself into the toy. Was he using it that night? When you heard him coming with a groan of your name, was he pretending to paint your cunt instead of the inside of faux flesh? Or did he pull out and imagine covering your face in his cum? Your back arches as you push yourself up by the heels of your palms on the ceramic, your head topples back onto your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull, the walls of your cunt tensing at the thought. 

His fingers unhook themselves from your panties and his hand finds the back of your skull, and with a firm grip, he angles your head, so you are face to face with your own depraved reflection. “Look how fuckin’ sexy you look takin’ me,” he growls.

And you do; your vision refocuses on the wrecked girl in the mirror: hair wild yet pulled back by Joel’s tight fist, lipstick stained around your swollen lips, mascara smudged by wet tears at the corners of your eyes, temples glistening with beads of sweat as you’re split wide open, perfectly filled to the brim by your ex-boyfriend’s father’s cock. 

Joel’s fist tightens on your makeshift ponytail, pulling you back into him, and with your back now pressed flush to his chest, he brings his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, eyes watching each other in the mirror. “You’ve got a velvet cunt, kiddo, s’damn shame my son didn’t know what to do with it.” 

You squeak, your body jostling and rolling with pleasure on every shift forward, the edge of the countertop bruising your hip bones. You’re blissfully unaware of the spit drooling from your lips and dripping all over the sink faucet until Joel points it out.

“Look at you, wanted it so bad you’re fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, naughty girl,” he pants, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. “Wanted me to use you like this, huh?”

“Mmm,” you mewl in response, everything beneath your navel tenses while his cock grazes the opening of your cervix on each harsh thrust.

He tuts. “Aww, poor baby, you were all talk before. But you can’t talk back now, huh? You all cock dumb, s’that it? Daddy, fuckin’ ya stupid?” 

"So – good – Daddy,” you force a choked moan. Your cunt clamps down around him, and it burns, flames running wild, scratching away at your nerves as the fat head of his cock brushes against your g-spot again. As if he can feel it too, the snap of his hips grows more desperate. Faster. Harder. Deeper. 

“Keep doin’ that, doin’ so good for me, kiddo. Just a little more, give it to me, come on daddy’s cock, c’mon,” he rasps. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, his cock hitting you so deep each time his hips swing, and the weight of his balls slapping wetly against your clit has you hurtling full speed towards your release. 

“Daddy – oh f– fuck,” your voice all broken and hoarse. Your entire body goes painfully tight, thighs quivering, and something deep within you snaps. Your eyes screw shut as the energy thrums through your blood. Your mind is a dizzying blur, white light streaking behind your eyelids, and there’s a low ringing in your ears as your orgasm fully engulfs you. 

"Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, kiddo, there you go, let her soak me,” Joel praises as he fucks you through your high, cunt throbbing while your hips move lazily back and forth on him. 

As your orgasm settles, your body goes limp, and your head begins to dip, but Joel tightens his grip on you, shifting your body like a ragdoll until you’re on your tiptoes, the perfect angle for him as he fucks relentlessly into you. 

And with the blissed-out daze of the afterglow and the roaring music from the otherside of the bathroom door getting louder, you can just barely make out Joel’s low rambles of obscenities — almost like he’s mumbling to himself — and the quick, wet, smack, smack, smack of his hips against the plush of your ass as he pummels your cunt, desperate for release — as if his life depends on coming inside you. 

He grunts and through bleary eyes, you watch him through the mirror. He looks wrecked as he chases after his high. He must feel your eyes on him because then his eyes lock with yours in the mirror, and your cunt squeezes him unconsciously. That sends him overboard. His movements become sloppy, and you feel him twitch inside you. His jaw slackens, his eyes pinching shut while his head lulls back, and a breathless chant of, oh shit, fuck that’s it, fuck, escapes him as he comes undone.

His hands clamp, hips finally stuttering, a deep groan slipping past his lips, and then you feel the heat spreading inside you as thick spurts of his seed spill deep inside your cunt. His body falls forward over yours, his sweaty forehead falls into your shoulders, and you let him stay there as his cock continues to pulse, hips lazily rutting into you and pumping you full of his load. Your spent cunt spasms around his throbbing cock, and your wet and his, gathers at the base of his girth and trickles down his balls. 

His hips finally come to a stop, but he doesn’t pull out. Instead, his hand drops from your hair and begins rummaging through your purse. It only takes him a few seconds to find what he’s looking for. Your pen. You watch through watery lashes as he pops the cap with his thumb and brings the tip to the small of your back; your body flinches at the feeling of the cold tip. 

As the ball of the pen drags and tugs across at your skin, for a brief moment you try to surmise what he’s writing, but it takes him too long, and the intensity of your orgasm finally catches up with you. You drop your head on your hand and wait for him to finish whatever the hell he’s drawing on your skin. 

You feel his body shift behind you again, but it’s not until you hear the familiar sound of a low click that has you snapping your head up to the mirror. 

Joel Miller has his phone in his hands. 

And he’s not just doing anything with it. He’s not scrolling through it. He’s not opening up the contacts app. He’s not typing on it.

You catch a bright white flash in the mirror. He’s taking pictures of you. But not just of you. He’s taking pictures of your wasted cunt still plugged full of his cock. 

And for some reason — you don’t move. You don’t stop him. You don’t turn around and snatch the phone from his grasp and call him a dirty old dog. You stay perfectly still, and you let him do what he wants. Letting him take a series of pictures.

But it’s the last few that have his lips curling into a smirk, and he begins mumbling under his breath, gawking at the mess he made of you. 

With his phone poised in his right hand, his left drops to your left ass cheek, his fingers splay across your flesh, pulling your cheek back, and the shutter sound goes off. "Fuck, she’s so pretty like this.” 

Heat blooms in your chest. No one’s ever made you feel like this. But there’s no room for shame when he makes you feel this warm and beautiful... and so fucking sexy. 

And then it hits you. 

No one’s ever made you feel like this. There’s a sudden pang in your heart, tears stinging in your eyes. You’ve always known it. But you never admitted it because it never mattered. How could it? When you’ve never had someone who made you feel worth their time. How could you know what you were missing out on if you’ve never had it to begin with? 

Your head tips back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull, and to keep them at bay, you redirect your attention on Joel; watch him as he presses his hips flush to your ass so he’s filled you to the hilt. With your body still trembling, you wince and close your eyes in overstimulation. Your body sags forward on the cold surface, melting into submission.

You hear a series of shutters coupled with Joel’s mutters of, Jesus, look at her, the prettiest little pussy, look at this messy little hole swallowin’ up my cock, while you feel his hand moving along the small of your back, no doubt getting different angles of the place where the two of you become one. 

It feels like hours have passed by when Joel seems to have gotten his fill. One of his hands finds your hip again; you shiver and gasp in unison as he slowly slips himself out with a wet squelch. He pumped you so full of his release that you already feel it beginning to trickle out. You didn’t think there’d be that much of it for a man his age.

When his cockhead fully slides out from your hole, you have to fight the urge to whine at the loss of it — of him. But it’s what he does next that stops you from reveling in that; his hand quickly reaches down between your bodies, and two thick fingers catch the cum dripping out of you and push it back inside. You whimper tiredly. 

You stay bent over the sink, and suddenly, for a very brief moment, you feel the heavy weight of his cock slap wetly against your left ass cheek, and for the last time, the camera shutters. 

He quickly pockets his phone, and then he’s pulling your panties over the ache between your thighs, and his hands tentatively pull the skirt back down over your ass, smoothing out the rumpled fabric. You can hear the low rustling behind you — the buzz of his zipper and the clang of his belt buckle, tucking himself back into his pants.

And then Joel Miller surprises you again. He leans forward over you and places a chaste kiss to your clothed shoulder before his hands are on you, gently tugging your body upright and turning you around to face him as he murmurs a low, Let me look at ya. 

His eyes scan over your face, grinning immensely, like he can’t help being proud of himself for ruining you. And you smile bashfully in tandem as you bring a weak hand up to your face. Joel shoos your hand away and rubs his thumb under your eyes, gently wiping away your tears and smeared mascara, then doing the same to the smudged lipstick at the corners of your mouth. 

He’s always been rather soft with you, but it’s a stark contrast in comparison to his earlier behavior; it almost gives you whiplash thinking about it. How he fucked you so full you could feel him in your chest, the stream of profanities he cursed under his breath, moaning the dirtiest things  — comparing himself to his son while inside you, taking filthy pictures as evidence of what the two of you have done together, then cleaning you up like it’s second nature to him. All of it was filthy. He’s filthy. But there was always a softness to him, and there’s no doubt about it in this moment.

You take the opportunity to mirror him and caress away the lipstick that stained his lips from your kiss, you smile and he sighs at the contact. His thumb swiftly pads over your bottom lip, his gaze lands on your lips, a sort of hesitance, perhaps deciding if he wants to kiss you again. Then, his thumb catches on your plush bottom lip. Joel’s lips twitch, his eyes go dark as he drags the flesh of your bottom lip down, eyeing something he knows he almost missed. He scoffs slightly and shakes his head in near-disbelief. You smirk knowing exactly what he’s reacting to. 

His entire face blossoms with cherry red as he does another once over on the black ink inside your mouth. 

“Angel, my ass,” he mutters under his breath before wetting his lips. Already hungry for more. 

He tilts your chin upwards and leans forward to kiss you. It’s softer, slower this time, but of course, he still nips gently at your bottom lip, and at the same time, he slips his free hand down between the two of you once more. It moves beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers shoving your panties to the side, the pulp of his middle finger pushing through your puffy folds and into your dripping hole, until the black ink that reads, brake, is entirely sheathed inside your worn cunt, making sure his come stays where it belongs. You whimper against his lips, bucking into his hand.

“Keep that in there, f’me,” he mutters, his hot breath fanning over your lips. “Want you thinkin’ o’me when it drips outta ya tonight.” 

You whine faintly when Joel removes his hand. He brings it up to his face, and his tongue darts out to glide across the tip of his digit, licking his finger clean of your wet and his, all while keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. 

There’s a long beat of silence between you, and then he drops his hand, pulling away. Your heart falls, already missing the warmth emanating from his touch.

“We oughta get back before people start looking for us,” he murmurs as he steps back. You smile softly and nod. You’re not sure you’ll see him again. And you don’t have the heart to ask him, nor do you have the strength to handle it if he rejects your offer. You have nothing else to give. 

You love how he made you feel, but your chest twinges — one that twists deep. And no matter how much you try to quell that deep-seated fear, it never truly leaves you. A little voice in the back of your mind that repeats on a loop like a broken record, telling you: He’ll break your heart. They all do. But he can’t hurt you if you don’t let him. You resist the urge to turn and run. And instead, you turn to glance back in the mirror, sure to tame your disheveled appearance, giving Joel a chance to leave before you, slipping back into someone from your past.

He makes his way to the door, sliding the lock open; his hand curls around the handle but pauses before pulling it open. He turns to face you. “You okay?” he asks. 

It shocks you. It’s more than his son ever did. Certainly means more to you after he’d ask, Was it good, after coming in you before you even got started. Everything Joel did tonight is more than his son ever did; asking you questions all night and listening attentively while you answered them — whether it was with the hope of fucking you or not — doesn't matter. You fought tooth and nail for a sliver of his son’s attention, but with Joel, he just fucking gave it to you. 

You do your best to ignore that gnawing feeling of fear, clawing its way up your chest by the only way you know how; you press your lips to Joel’s, pushing your tongue into his awaiting mouth, and licking along the rim of his teeth. A strong hand curls around your jaw, fighting for dominance over the kiss, but you don’t let him for long, though. Reluctantly, you pry yourself off him, but not before Joel’s teeth softly graze your earlobe, nipping the flesh there.

You flash him a quick smile, looping the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “Perfect.” 

He smiles softly at that, eyes dancing across your face. “Yeah,” he whispers and moves to the side, letting you step out first and following you out. 

You head straight to the booth where your group of four awaits you, but not before peering over your shoulder and seeing Joel stalk towards his crew. You smile to yourself and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear as you approach your friends. As you shimmy in beside one of them, they ask where you were, and their brows pinch when you mumble, I was feeling a little dizzy. Which isn’t a total lie, but no one presses you for more, and you’re glad they don’t. 

It’s not until your friends start collecting their belongings and announce they want to check out the new bar a few blocks down the street when you feel the weight of tonight’s actions sinking into you. You’re about ready to call it a night; your eyes are heavy, your brain is still fuzzy, and your body still has not recovered from Joel railing you. 

You mull over sitting in the booth until the car you plan to order shows up to take you home. But the thought of waiting around in Joel’s presence makes your chest tighten. You don’t want to find out if he’ll be like the rest of them. Something to scratch an itch, and then wiping you from memory. That urge to flee loops back, and your legs force you to stand.

Collectively, you amble through the bar, still bubbling with energy, and as you make your way to the exit, you can feel the heat of a stare on you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is; his broad form ghosts along the edges of your periphery.

You walk against that pull you feel towards him, ache festering, skin burning, and bones grating with every heavy step, your eyes locked on the door like a missile to a target, not letting your eyes wander over to his booth, trying to keep what’s left of your dignity. Resisting. Resisting. Resisting. 

Lucas steps out first, holding the door open for another group of younger twenty-somethings as they saunter into the bar. While you hang back, you quickly mumble over your shoulder to Nell that you’re thinking of heading home. Worry cuts across her face, and she extends an offer, At least let me drive you home, hun. 

Your answer is cut off by the chime of your phone in your purse. You still and fumble for it and see a message from Mr. Miller. You had forgotten you never deleted his number. 

Holding your phone close to your chest, cautiously away from your friend’s curious eyes, you click on the notification.

He’d sent you two of the pictures he happily took at the top of the hour with a message that reads, Look damn sexy on my cock, kiddo. 

Your mouth falls open in a gasp, and pride swells in your chest as you glance at the first picture: Joel plugging your used cunt full of his length, his graying pubic hairs drenched and the base of his shaft gleaming with a white ring of creamy release. Your eyes flit upwards, and you finally get a chance to read the dark permanent lines he’d written on your skin.

Joel had crossed out the latter half of your tattoo on your ass cheek. It now reads, daddy’s fleshlight, in sloppy penmanship. With his grip porcelain white, the cross on his thumb makes an appearance as his digit digs into your hip at the corner of your tattoo. Your eyes drift further north, and above the globe of your ass, the small of your back reads, mine. 

Your thumb swipes across the screen to the second picture. With his cock poised in his hand, he had pressed the swollen mushroom head, only a hairsbreadth beneath the ink on the plush flesh of your ass — black ink shiny with a pearly film, he had smeared it in your mixed juices. Your cunt clenches at the images — at his absence, missing the warm, thick stretch of him. And suddenly, you feel his cum beginning to dribble out of you and pool into the gusset of your already ruined thong. 

When you don’t answer. The message bubble appears.

A beat, then two, and then—

There’s a place for you here.

You swallow down the twinge, the ache, press your thighs shut around emptiness, and feel another slight trickle escape your lower lips when your pussy releases more of his cum. You lock your phone and look back up at Nell in front of you. You feign nonchalance and wave her off, telling her you can’t go home just yet. Tell her that you received a few more requests from your boss and you, Don’t wanna take work home. 

She asks how you’ll get home, you lie, and swiftly mention that you just saw Mr. Miller across the bar and that he’ll drive you home. Another tiny white lie. Your place is a solid halfway point from the bar to his house. And when she asks if you’re sure you’ll be okay alone, her hand gently squeezing your arm, brows furrowed with worry, bless her heart, your gaze follows that pull like a magnet and lands on Joel. 

He’s already watching you. 

Your eyes lock with his, one hand resting to the side while the other tips the glass he’d been nursing towards you, winking as he takes a short sip of amber liquid. 

And there’s no pang in your chest. No urge to flee. Just the warmth of his gaze that in any second now will radiate through his touch, turning your bones to ash. 

You flash Nell a smile. Yeah…You’ll be fine.

[sutorus]

BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew. 

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?” 

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 

toji finally addresses you. 

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks. 

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

[acid-ixx]

oooh so did we divorce Bruce, or is this an infidelity type of situation?

a loving family, an unpalatable desire: first meeting (unofficial)

— related post !

a/n: a tad bit nsfw. if this sounds messy, spare me. i'm running on like 4 hours of sleep and the will of a thirsty man in front of an oasis. i told yall im going insane for this plotline. ofc a&a still has my heart but I also love to occasionally write for smth else in the sidelines. send in more asks yall hehe.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

definitely an infidelity type of situation, anon! you see, the affair was caused by all mere coincidence. you were to attend with bruce in one of lex luthor's extravagant show of a gala, hold his arm for a brief moment when you walk out of the limousine, only to be abandoned right in the middle of the enormous room.

of course, the right reaction was to be pissed, to badmouth the very man who decided to court and entertain others in front of you; but you chose to stay silent, biting back choked tears by stumbling over the buffet table, only to be met with stupid, overbearing paparazzi and journalists.

so when clark kent rushes in to save you from stuttering over the dozens of microphones and cameras shoved right in your face, granting them access to your pathetic sobs— it's only right that your first reaction was to lean against his body, dismissing the hushed, harsh gossips of journalists.

it was at a time where you're not aware of his identity of superman. well, bruce barely permits you to enter the batcave, only if you stubbornly pester alfred does he let you, only to kick you, his darling spouse right out the moment you step on the cold, hard floors of the lair.

so it's not... a bad thing, right? your husband had a child with another woman, raised him as his own, didn't even bother to notify you with his infidelity— so is it your fault if you slowly start to fall for a man who promises you the world? who actually has the ability to give you the world in the palm of your hands? whose kid lets you pamper him without any fight?

sure, he's coping with... the loss of his previous wife but you're such a perfect spouse, so undeniably attractive, captivating in the hearts of many. your distant eyes, the way you bite the inside of your cheeks, the way your body sways back and forth as if begging for someone, your husband, to provide you a pillar of support in the suffocating heat of paparazzi.

he could be that pillar, could be your support.

when he first came up to you, his intentions weren't to obtain gossip about the oh-so silent spouse of bruce wayne. he didn't even want to acknowledge your marital status, palms already taking your wrist just so he could lead you off to somewhere quieter.

"it's an interview," he whispers an excuse to your reddened ears. but the buzz of his breath, the warmth, the caged arm on your waist tells you it's more than that.

but you don't fight back, you'd rather be anywhere than be the spotlight of a media that eats you up, makes you doubt your marriage even more.

so you're grateful that someone came to your rescue.

this would be the first time you ever saw someone as a savior, and it's not superman, no. it's clark kent, your resident, widowed, journalist.

and for clark's case, you warm his bed better than anything else. you allow clark this sense of respite, a break from heroic activities. allow him to be human, just as he allows you to play your fantasies of being a house spouse; you're perfect for each other.

to hell with useless marriage papers that don't even give bruce a sense of obligation to act as your husband, right? what can it do, when you're absolutely smitten with the current life you're living?

the first stages of your infidelity with clark is confusing, but very much welcomed into your already hectic life.

firstly, you convince yourself, it was all mere 'emotional cheating'. you began texting clark, he does too. an occasional greeting in messages, a passing congratulation for something, then the next it was good morning messages, 'have you eaten breakfast yet?, 'how'd the appointment go?'.

you don't know when it started, when your feelings started, when you began an intimate to romantic relationship with the man— all you knew was that the moment he revealed his superhero identity was the moment he decided to bed you for the night, the moment you grant the man, now your partner, access to every part of your depraved body, made him make you beg for more, giving him all the time in the world to kiss your imperfections, to fondle sensitive parts long untouched, to leave lovebites deeper and darker than the ones you caught bruce with.

you can't help it, he's unknowingly handsome, especially when he invites you over to his ma and pa's farm the next day, pretending to not notice the way your eyes hungrily flit over his topless body, sweat and budding pecs encased in a muscled form. over the course of dinner, you kept biting your lips, warm cheeks at the implications that clark merely wanted to sit next to you just so he could handfeed you, something about him being prideful that you'd definitely enjoy this week's harvest... but his fingers circling your thighs just seems to get you brain all haywired.

yet you stay, and continue visiting for long hours either way, enjoying the man's attention.

you know it's wrong, he knows it's wrong. but the way his son, jon looks at you like you mean the world, the way he's slowly starting to heal the longer you stay over at his place makes clark want to... what's the word? ah, he wants to turn you into his loving trophy spouse. all you need to do is provide jon with all the support in the world.

as for bruce... well, him and his family can deal with your absence for the first few months. but when the lingering feeling of emptiness becomes too much, when bruce no longer feels the worried gazes, or when dick can't hear anymore laughter in one of the supposed 'barren' rooms, or when tim's security systems tracked a missing device, one now in a completely different city.

that's when they start to yearn for someone they purposely let go

[sweetnans]

"K', new situation"

The remote was out of your reach because you kept pausing the shows, and Katsuki had enough of watching every episode like there was a connection problem.

"Hit me," he said, resting his head on the wall of your dorm.

It became a habit that you and him watched shows together at your dorm, every Thursday night, no excuse. Last week, you started watching "Queen Charlotte," and even though Katsuki didn't want to watch the show, you convinced him to give it a chance, and now, he was the one who didn't want you to pause it.

"What if...-no, no, ok, let me start over." You tripped on your questions, and Katsuki found it adorable. "Imagine this, you are royalty and someone with more power than you, force you to marry someone you don't know...are you following me?" You paused at his quizzed face.

"Yeah, I am," he simply answered.

"So they force you to marry someone you don't know and you have no interest in. What would you do?"

"Mm, I would probably cheat on her multiple times, make her so unhappy, and be a dick of a husband," he side eyed you while answering because he couldn't get his eyes off of the screen and because he wanted to watch you freaking out at his answer. He could do both.

"Are you serious?" You couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. "Jesus, Katsuki, what an asshole"

You stomped to his body and reached the remote to put the show on pause.

"Not again. Why do you do this to me?" He whined. He was getting upset, but you were more upset because he wasn't taking serious the situation game.

"Why are you like that? Don't you think that maybe an arrangement marriage is the perfect occasion to find true love? You obviously skipped a step, but now you have all the time in the world to know a person, the details, the way they like their tea in the morning, the things that make them upset. I think it's lovely and romantic. " You day dreamed, and Katsuki couldn't bear the fact that you and him were so different. He liked it, finding a way to make opposites attract situations happened in his life.

"I think it's opposite ends. There's only two ways to go. It's extremely good or extremely bad"

"Yeah, you're right," you gave in. He was the one who didn't believe in love after all. You've had multiple boyfriends in the span of two years, always falling for the jerks, like Katsuki always said, but you never denied the opportunity of starting over. You put the show again and sank on your spot.

Your quietness made Katsuki uncomfortable. You spent the rest of the episode without pusing the show, not for situation game or going to pee and that was very weird of you.

Before the next episode started, Katsuki himself paused it.

"You didn't like what I said," he stated looking at you.

You were dissociating, actually, you weren't mad at him, you were just thinking about him, about how you were feeling towards his feelings, you were upset because you knew that If you had feelings for him (that you already had) he wouldn't give himself a chance with you and you would be head over heels for him, making the situation unfair to you and your feelings. What you were thinking wasn't any close to the situation that you gave him. It wasn't something settled between you and him. It was more about his vision of love, the opposite ends example.

"No, it's not that it's just -" you sighed. You didn't want to make things awkward between Katsuki and you. You found a steady ground where you could enjoy each other's company without making it any weird. "I don't know, Bakugo."

He seemed astonished.

"Mm, last name basis now, huh? Must be something serious. " he moved from his seat to put his figure in front of you. "Use your words, I know you can fucking talk"

Sometimes, he called yourself for eating his ear off because you couldn't shut up. He was trying to make you feel comfortable with him again.

"See, it's just... I'm feeling kinda worried about you because I've never seen you with someone else. I want you to find love, to be happy, to face love, and dare to take a chance on someone, you know? And maybe I'm misunderstanding things here, and you don't want any of that. " You stumble through your words, taking his face in. He looked like he was thinking, but his eyes were analyzing your face like it was the first time he ever saw you. "I don't want you to think that I'm pitying you -"

"I do want to experience love," he said, glancing briefly to your lips and then your eyes. "And maybe I'm just waiting for the right one," he muttered, getting closer to you.

You were stoic in your place. Thoughts running in your head, the gears in your brain trying to figure what was happening and if it was just a dream. Maybe you were just imagining things, and now you feared to take the wrong step.

"You do?" You asked, feeling his presence in your space asking whatever came to your mind so you could have more time to think about this situation.

"Yeah, but she keeps dating assholes"

He grinned a little, trying to give away the slightest clue about his feeling but the exact amount of it so you could realize what he was saying.

For his own luck, you were pretty clever sometimes.

"Well, maybe, no one ever showed her better." You squeezed yourself between his legs while he was still sitting with his legs crossed. He parted his legs at your movement and grabbed your waist to keep you close. "I dated assholes because you were too busy demonstrating you didn't care when I dated them"

"Is that so?" He asked humming.

"Yeap," you nodded like a child, playing with your hands in your lap, concentrating in them.

"I'm sorry for not interrupting sooner," he moved his head to his side, trying to catch your eyes.

"You better be," you told him, giggling. It was an unexplored field. You were distracting yourself for the upcoming event.

"We haven't even kissed yet, and you already have an attitude with me? Get a fucking grip" he joked while taking your hands apart.

"Jeez, you should check yourself and look for the stick that's up in your asshole. You are so dense sometimes. "

You pushed him slightly, and he tugged your hands against his chest, caging you without any escape routes.

"Just shut the fuck up"

Without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours with feverish force. His grip in your hands fell so he could touch every part of your body thoroughly. Your arms clinged behind his back, closing the gap between the two of you. Your fingers touched the nape of his neck, tugging his hair every time he bit your lips.

You two were out of air, so you were forced to step back a little. His nose touched yours, and he gave you soft pecks in your lips before opening his mouth.

"No more dating assholes" he warned.

"Mmhm," you nodded, biting your lip. "You better stop acting like one then"

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[xprakzif]

tell him.

matthew sturniolo

parings: matt x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, mdni!!, cheating(i do not condone this), oral receiving, p in v, yea you know already..

summary: matt can’t keep his hands off of his friend, knowing she has a boyfriend. he tries to forget her but she keeps making an appearance.

lowkey inspired by tell your girlfriend by lay bankz

{the bf in this has a random name}

the first

being around the triplets since her junior year of high school created a close bond. nick being the one who introduced himself to her, seeing her alone sitting in the cafeteria mindlessly scrolling through nothing wanting to be anywhere but that place.

ever since, they’ve treated her like another sibling from what she thought.

“hi guys!” she exclaimed, walking up the stairs of their home. “this is my boyfriend, kian!”

a boy followed behind her appearing after coming up the stairs.

“y/n! hey, kian, i’ve heard so much about you!” nick came over to greet. she gave him a ‘stfu’ look, remembering all the facetime calls and snaps about her drooling over him.

“yoo! i’m chris, nice to meet you.” the pair joined matt on the couch where he greeted them with a smile.

“this is matt! he’s shy.” she poked introducing him.

“i’m not!”

“yea, even knowing them for years, i could tell them apart from the moment i met them.” she added to the conversation.

they were all sat at a table at top golf, eating and talking about things that made the others around them glare.

“i mean, there’s definitely features that y’all share, but i can tell-“ kian was interrupted by his phone loudly ringing. “my fault, excuse me.” turning away in his seat to not intrude on the side conversations as he answered the call.

the others remained talking about their looks and making inappropriate comments and jokes.

“sorry y/n, i have to go. my brothers car broke down again and he’s stranded.” kian explained gathering his belongings.

“again? he really needs to retire ol’ reliable. but that’s fine, just let me know when you get situated!” she replied receiving a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“it was real cool meeting you guys!” he farewelled, leaving the area after receiving goodbyes.

“wait.. now i have to uber home!”

“girl, you know you’re welcome to stay the night at ours if you want to.” nick reminded his friend as he wiped him mouth with a napkin. she smiled and nodded agreeing to his offer.

“you’re still hungry after all you ate at top golf?” matt teased at chris who was devouring the microwaved popcorn in his lap as the brothers sat around the living room with their friend as a movie lit up the room.

“mind your business!” chris remarked with a full mouth, throwing a handful in his direction accidentally hitting the girl beside matt.

“dude!” she screeched. he covered his mouth and looked away trying to play it off.

she poked matt quietly giggling as she pointed to nick on the loveseat who was fast asleep. chris took notice as well, laughing and decided to throw his snack at him.

nick jumped awake, searching for what just hit him. “chris- i swear! can’t even rest my eyes around you.”

nick stood up with the blanket wrapped around him.

“i’m gonna go lay down, y/n you can come in when you’re ready.” with that disappearing to his bedroom.

eventually, after finishing his snack, chris went to bed after the movie finished. matt glanced at his friend who was indulged in her phone.

“how aren’t you tired yet?” he asked.

“oh trust me i am.” she put her phone down and rubbed her eyes. he smiled, quickly looking away. she got up, making her way to nicks bedroom before quietly shouting, “night, matt!”

reaching nicks door, she softly turned the knob incase he was already asleep. the knob became stiff and wouldn’t turn fully. it was locked.

confused, she assumed nick just wanted to sleep.

the lights in the living room were off. she thought about going to chris but soon remembered he was most definitely knocked out.

matt couldn’t have been asleep that quickly. she tip toed to his door, lightly patting on the door. almost immediately it opened revealing matt in just his underwear. his eyes became wide unexpecting her to be at his door.

“um.. nicks door is locked. can i sleep with you?”

it wasn’t unusual, they all slept in the same bed once when their manager had messed up their hotel booking. this time matt felt different.

“sure, cmon..” he let her in the room. going straight for the bed, she layed down on the left side getting under the covers as he joined her with a slight dip in the bed.

the room was silent. the blowing of the air conditioner and occasional traffic noise cutting the silence. she trembled from the coldness even under the thick comforter.

she didn’t even know her actions were obvious until matt spoke, “you cold?” with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“a little- sorry.” she whispered turning to face him. “i usually cuddle with my plushies at home, don’t judge.”

his breathing picked up suddenly as he thought about his next question.

“do you wanna.. um- cuddle with me?”

she hesitated, but thought it was a good idea so she shifted closer indicating agreement. he wrapped his arms around her gently, taking in the various smells of expensive shampoo and sweet perfume. her head lied under his chin smothered into his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat.

neither of them knew why their anxiety skyrocketed in the moment.

he couldn’t help but notice the subtle lighting from his window glistening on her face. it was so faint, he didn’t even realize she was staring at his gaze.

thank goodness for the angle, otherwise she would see his pink washed cheeks from embarrassment as he looked away. she tilted her head upwards, grinning as he drew his focus back to her, admiring her distinguished features.

something sprung his confidence strong enough to overpower the racing of his heart as he placed a hand under her chin, bringing her face closer. she didn’t react, assuming she was okay with the actions, he placed his lips onto hers.

the kiss was soft and loving. it almost felt like electricity through their bodies. she didn’t even think she liked him. maybe she just ignored the feeling, knowing his popularity wouldn’t allow them to form a decent relationship. she felt grateful enough to be as close with him and his brothers. forcing herself onto them was never the intention.

matt on the other hand knew from the start. they way she showed no deeper interest made him hesitant. he loved her personality and how she was introverted. it was easy to talk to her. once she announced her new relationship, his heart stung knowing he’d lost his opportunity.

she pulled back first. he thought he’d fucked up.

“i’m- im so sorry, y/n..” she was still in his embrace, not tense but comfortable and safe. he was confused.

“it’s okay. goodnight matt” she smiled and nestled into his chest.

he knew he wasn’t gonna get any ounce of sleep after that.

“chris! go get some napkin, i am not cleaning this up!” nicks voice was loud enough to wake matt up after hazily falling asleep a few hours later.

he had forgotten for not much longer about what had happened when he realized y/n wasn’t in his bed. he checked his phone on his nightstand seeing it was noon.

“where’s y/n?” he made his way to the kitchen where nick sat on his laptop while chris was soaking up an orange liquid off the counter with paper towels, seemingly close to nicks workspace.

“goodmorning to you too, matt!” chris mocked.

“she left early this morning. went to breakfast with kian to make up for yesterday or something. she didn’t tell you?” nick spoke not looking up from his screen.

matt leaned his body over the counter, “no- she slept in my room last night, since you were sleeping.” he felt a hot flash in his body remembering the moment before you fell asleep.

nick finally looked matt in the eye, “i wasn’t sleeping? i waited for her and she never came.”

“what? she said your door was locked!” he grew confused. did she lie? no she couldn’t have, it’s not like she meant to sleep in his room.

nick stood quiet for a few seconds. his face displaying confusion as if he was trying to solve the hardest equation ever. he grew excited once he figured out the answer.

“oh! i must’ve forgot to unlock it after i changed.” he exclaimed as calmly as he could.

“dude!”

matt thought he was angry for a second. this whole situation could’ve been avoided. was it a good thing? did he ruin everything?

the fall

“happy birthday dear y/n, happy birthday to you!”

her friends were gathered around the kitchen island of her cozy apartment. kian planned a small surprise get together for her birthday since she was far from her family and would celebrate with them separately.

she thanked the group and blew out the gold number candles as she cheered for herself gaining giggles from around her.

she went about the room, hugging each of her guest and thanking them for being there. once she got to the triplets she embraced them individually as she got to matt and he stopped her.

“y/n, i got you something- i think you should open it right away” he held a pink box with a white ribbon. it was oddly shaped and seemed fragile so she had him bring it over to her small brown sofa.

he placed it on the seat before sitting opposite to her to watch her reaction. the other brothers followed along standing over her to see what was inside.

she slowly pulled the ribbon until matt spoke, “i really hope it’s not too much, i just know you’ve been wanting one for this longest..”

the flaps lifted on their own as she jumped back, revealing a small gray kitten with green eyes.

her jaw dropped as her eyes began to water with joy. “no- you didn’t!” lifting the kitten free from the box. “matt! you’re unbelievable!” she pushed the container to the rug and moved closer to hug him.

“you’ve been posting a lot about wanting a kitten and i really didn’t know what else to get you- oh, and he’s a boy by the way..” he laughed watching her childlike expression.

“kian! come look what matt got me!” she called for her boyfriend who was chatting with some of their mutual friends. he made his way over as she held the kitten up in the air.

matt’s heart sunk slightly as she shared her happiness with kian instead of him.

no one was paying attention to nick and chris’s shocked reactions.

“aww, how cute.. damn i kinda look like a shitty boyfriend now!” kian joked obviously as she giggled along with him.

“what’s wrong?” she looked to the two brothers who were still confused.

“we had no idea he was getting you that!” chris mentioned as nick agreed.

“honestly, i didn’t want you guys to ruin the surprise with your big mouths!” matt argued playfully.

the night grew old as the guest died down leaving just the triplets and kian in her apartment. it wasn’t long until kian bid farewell explaining his early morning work schedule.

she already changed into plaid pajama pants and a white tank sweatshirt as she curled up on the couch petting her new addition.

“still not over this!” she referred to her present.

matt grinned feeling warm and accomplished knowing he made her happy. he couldn’t help but watch as she stroked the bundle of fur, giggling at each movement he made.

each person in the room jumped as a sudden clap of thunder roared. the rain was unexpected and loud enough to tell it was dangerous driving conditions.

“guys, you can’t drive in that. it’s storming,” her voice was of concern. “just wait until it dies down.”

just as she spoke the room became black as everything went silent. the power went out.

“shit! that scared the hell out of me.” nick yelled from his place on the couch.

“dude it’s freezing in here!” chris complained, although he wore the most layers than anyone preset. she had an idea.

“i’ll go get us blankets.” standing and turning her phones flashlight on.

“i’ll come help you..” a voice behind her spike as she shined the light right into his face making him cover his eyes.

“thanks, matt! chris hold my kitty.” she placed the kitten on his lap with no warning. he giggled at her choice of words as nick scoffed.

“okay, do you think that’s good enough?” matt was holding atleast 10 blankets in various fabrics and materials.

“definitely- why do you even have so many?” matt asked struggling to balance them all.

“i’m just a girl, don’t ask me!” she closed the closet door when her flashlight turned off on its own. she stumbled to find her phone before tripping over it on the floor, falling into matt causing him to drop all the blankets. they both landed on the bed not being too far a distance from the closet.

“i- ow, i’m sorry..” she apologized.

a flash of lighting shined into the bedroom window giving them both a view of each others face.

matt felt the familiar feeling in his chest, as well as a new one in his pants. she was lying right on top of him.

this time it was her who initiated it.

leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his lips to see his reaction.

he was taken back but knew what he wanted. he gripped her waist lifting her off of him and placing her fully on the bed. this time he placed his weight over top of her gently and moved his lips onto hers.

the kiss was different this time.

instead of loving and warm, it was lustful and rough.

it didn’t stop there, she wrapped her legs around him pulling his hips to hers. she felt his crotch solid against hers as he grinded into her.

they were so hungry for eachother they didn’t notice the light pattering of little paws stumble into the room.

continuing to make out, matt tugged on her tank top begging for it to come off. just before she started lifting her arms for him to remove it, larger footsteps entered the dark room along with a hushed voice.

“shadow- come back!”

matt leaped onto his feet after hearing his brothers voice. light beamed into the room as chris walked in flashing his phones light to find the kitten that hopped off his lap to explore his new home.

“there you are! oh- and there you are too” chris aimed the light to his brother and friend who was sitting on her bed. the blankets were scattered on the floor, but it was too dark for chris to realize.

“did- did you just name my cat?” she asked remembering him calling for shadow.

“i mean.. it’s fitting..” he said picking up the small feline.

“i love that! his name is shadow.” she cheered walking over to pet the kitten as if nothing happened. she didn’t want to act suspicious so she quickly changed her demeanor while matt stood frozen in his place unsatisfied.

a buzzing sound took place as the lights began to flicker back on along with the air system.

nick could be heard shouting in relief in the living room. “well.. i guess that’s our cue.” chris joked walking out the bedroom after handing y/n her kitten.

she glanced at matt, a soft expression on her face. he was flushed with red cheeks and puffy lips, his hair messy. she decided to walk out the room, leaving the awkward silence as he followed behind her.

“okay, i’ll see you boys soon- text me when you get home!” she demanded watching them collect themselves ready to head out.

chris and nick were already out the door just when matt was leaving when she called, “matt!” he turned with sudden movement, “hm?” he responded.

“um.. thanks.. for shadow” hesitating at her words.

he nodded. a grin forming on his face as he quickly turned away to leave her apartment.

the following

ding

the chime of her phone was loud and the light lit up the room. she was a light sleeper, but she always made sure her phone ringer was on full volume at night, in case of emergencies.

groaning, she turned on her side. grabbing her phone from her nightstand to check as shadow moved away from her chest to lay down at the foot of the bed, annoyed at the movements she was making.

matty: y/n?

she grew fully conscious seeing a text from him. eyes flickering to the left corner reading 3:15AM.

:yes?

the message bubble popped up almost immediately after being read.

matty: can we talk

she knew this would come eventually. though she wasn’t quite sure what part he wanted to discuss. it’s been 3 days since her birthday. 3 days since the incident in her room. the room she was currently in, on the bed she was currently laying on.

:??

matty: about thursday y/n

she sighed.

: matt it was a mistake

matty: in person

matty: can we talk in person

:it’s 3am

matty: i’ll come get you

matty: please

matty: i can’t sleep

she felt guilty. he couldn’t sleep, too busy having her run through his mind. she was tired, but if she didn’t settle this now, it would ruin everything.

: alright fine

the time flew by quickly. she found herself in an oversized gray hoodie, waiting for his text. it was long enough to cover her down to her knees, so she didn’t bother wearing pants thinking it would be a quick chat in the car.

headlights shined through her window before she received a message telling her matt had arrived.

she grabbed shadow and held him close, his little bell chiming as she bounced with each step down her apartment complex stairs. he was too young to be left alone, and who knows how long this talk would be.

the car door opened as matt nearly broke his neck to see her coming in.

“hey.. it’s cool if we go to my place?” he suggested, reaching over to pet shadow who was on her lap.

she wasn’t expecting a trip. nor did she dress for one. but it was a better idea than staying out in a car at 3AM. she nodded.

the drive was silent besides the radio playing lowly.

he let her in. “let’s go to my room- nick and chris are asleep,” whispering as he placed a hand on her back making her shudder.

matt and y/n were sat in the red sheets of his bed. shadow never left her lap, afraid of being in a new house.

“y/n.. i r-”

“it was a mistake, matt.” she assured him sternly. why did she feel like crying? she loved kian. though she was forcing herself to think about him in that moment.

“i don’t think it was.. i don’t think it was a mistake” matt pleaded. his voice was low but his tone made her swallow a her feelings down.

it was quiet.

“i love him-“ she chocked.

he shifted closer to her causing shadow to scurry off the bed.

“i.. i know.. but i can’t help it y/n, i want you.. crave you.” his tone softened as he cupped her face.

her eyes were glossy staring into his as he brushed his nose against hers wanting more.

she did it again.

it was her who pushed her lips to his. moving slowly with rhythm. now it was different again. this time they both felt careless. kian was far back in her mind, ignoring any thoughts of him.

matt was in a rush. he moved in front of her making her lay back. it was like her birthday all over again. he hovered over her between her legs, not asking this time and pulling her hoodie over her body.

he pulled back a little shocked as he scanned her figure in just a bra and panties. pupils enlarged with lust as he felt himself stiffen in his sweatpants.

she was flustered feeling so exposed to him. tugging at his clothing now, begging for his exposure so she wasn’t the only one.

he leaned back and undressed fully.

she was going crazy. he looked down her figure to her clothed heat, glancing back at her glistening eyes as he moved down on the bed. he was positioned between her legs, face above her area.

“can i..?” he asked, warm breath against her thighs as he gripped them.

“mhmm” she hummed eagerly.

he buried his head in her legs leaving kisses and bite marks all over. he slid his finger over her panties feeling her folds through the thin material.

he felt his nerves in his stomach, unsure if he really wanted this. he knew he did, but the thought of her ghosting him for kian raced his mind as he sat there hesitantly.

shadows bell snapped him out of his thoughts as he realized where he was. he knew he had to fall through, this was his only chance.

he hooked his fingers onto the waistband of her underwear, sliding it down her legs painfully slow.

placing them next to her, he moved her legs up spreading them wide.

she was sweating from the anticipation when he used two fingers to spread her folds, dragging his tongue from her entrance to her clit.

he sucked on the sensitive spot gaining a moan from the back of her throat.

“shhh, nick and chris are asleep..” he hushed. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

her head shook vigorously as she covered her mouth. he dove back in, continuing his previous actions. she whined behind her hand.

he removed a hand from her leg and sucked on his middle and ring finger before sliding them into her hole. he groaned at how tight she felt just on his fingers.

pushing them in, he licked her clit in circles quickly making her arch her back and roll her eyes. helpless to the whimpers that escaped her vocal cords muffled from her hand.

“‘s so good, baby- fuck” he grumbled against her setting her on edge.

her legs trembled and squeezed his head near suffocating him. she grasped the bed sheets tightly and her mouth flew open with no sound coming out.

he shook his head in a fast motion in between her legs helping her ride out her orgasm.

panting and trying to catch her breath when he came back up to hover over her body and kissed her with her own juices all over his face.

she pushed him away, forcing him to lay on his back and climbing over to straddle him. taking hold of his dick and aligning it with her entrance as he watched with his bottom lip between his teeth.

she sunk down with a whine. his eye brows furrowed at the tightness around his member and groaned.

“holy sh-” he could barley get out as she bounced herself on him.

they tried so hard to be quiet during the whole experience but couldn’t help letting out a few moans here and there. the bed was creaking with her movements. he felt his core heat up while his dick started to tingle with sensation as he lifted his hips harder into her.

he knew it wouldn’t be right to cum inside of her when she was with someone. she wasn’t his after all.

but the way he was feeling he couldn’t stop.

he threw his head back on his pillows letting out shaky breaths and grunts as he emptied his load into her feeling her clench around him.

she slowed her movements after realizing what he’d done. finally climbing off of him and laying down next to him.

it felt.. weird.

not awkward, but not wrong either. matt slowly got up from the bed and into the connected bathroom. she watched as the light flicked on and the sink ran.

he came back out with a white rag in his hand, “open,” he demanded getting closer to her legs as she bent her knees to spread them. he cleaned her up as well as himself.

when he went to toss the rag in his sink, he came back out to see her covered in his sheets fast asleep, shadow already curled up by her chest.

he admired how she looked so peaceful even after the unholy events that just took place.

he joined her carefully in bed, exhaustively forcing himself to fall asleep before he regretted what happened.

“yo, matt have you-” the door to matt’s room busted open as the pair in bed jumped out of their sleep snapping to the commotion. sunlight took over as they realized it was the next day. “y/n?”

chris was stood in the door frame. luckily she was fully covered by the blanket for him to see she was only in her under garments and gain suspicion.

“bro- what! what do you need?!” matt’s voice was mixed with annoyance and fear, a little embarrassed that chris came in the room.

“i was looking for my blue hoodie, but what’s up, y/n?” he seemed concerned at the fact she stayed the night, something she would do with nick when she was going through something.

“yea- i, um-”

“it’s behind the door man- her air wasn’t working in her apartment so i brought her over last night without waking you or nick” matt made up a story shooing chris away.

“ohhh- shadow!” he spotted the gray kitten who was now on the floor after hiding when chris scared them.

“dude- go!” matt shouted, still tired in his voice.

chris scoffed leaving the room when he took his hoodie from the rack behind the door, slamming it shut. he was definitely going to nicks room to tell him y/n was there.

the pair looked to eachother. she looked away to find her phone on the nightstand checking to see the time was past noon.

“shit! i have to go..” she almost tripped over her own feet trying to find her clothes not remembering she showed up in just a hoodie.

“wait- let me give you a ride,” matt insisted.

“it’s fine, um.. kians picking me up..” she tried to whisper but it was loud and clear.

matt’s heart sunk. he didn’t know why, he should’ve expected her to go back to him after this but he wanted so badly for her to just forget him and stay.

he didn’t say anything while she gathered shadow and gave matt a quick hug, something she always did before she left their home, and walked out.

it’s been 6 days. no texts. no calls. not even a post on social media.

he hadn’t heard from her at all. he didn’t wanna intrude either. his heart kept telling him to call her, call her and tell her to just love him, not kian.

but he knew better.

or did he? because he found himself driving to her apartment.

the whole ride he wanted to throw up. he was so nervous and didn’t know why. he pulled up to her complex, seeing the parking spaces in front of her building were empty besides her car that he recognized. it was still early afternoon and people were at work. but there was on car. he payed no mind to it, pulling into the spot next to hers.

he sat in the car a few minutes to collect himself.

mentally hyping himself up and making his way to the door, he pressed the buzzer.

nothing.

he tried again, sure he had the right one.

finally hearing the clicks of the lock, the door slowly creaked open revealing her face.

“oh.. what’s wrong?” her voice was a bit hoarse yet filled with confusion.

“i-i missed you..”

she leaned against the wall, her body came into frame enough for him to see she was wrapped in a blanket. clear that nothing was underneath.

“matt, i’m a little busy-“

“who is it, babe?” a voice echoed in her apartment.

matt wanted to break down when he recognized the voice. it made sense now. the other car was kians.

“you should go..” she whispered. he peered over her head seeing shadow stop in his tracks while walking through the living room and stare at him.

matt nodded. he felt crushed and defeated.

maybe he should just let go.

the finale

“hello?” matt answered a facetime call from his brother.

“heyyy, you good?” chris asked.

him and nick went to a party while matt stayed home.

“yeah i’m fine” he had a little attitude in his voice.

he had a rough week. after he left y/ns apartment, he cried in his room. he couldn’t hold it in anymore. he hated how she loved kian and not him. he wished he wasn’t too late. he wished he told her how he felt before she got with him. then fucking her just made him more attached.

“matt?” nick said through the phone, music blared loudly in the background. he snapped out of it.

“what?”

“i asked if you wanted us to bring you fo- oh look who it is!” nick was interrupted, seen hugging someone in frame. a small girl. oh great it was her.

he wanted to just hang up until chris pointed the phone at her. she turned to see matt on the screen.

she almost punched chris in the arm. she felt disgusting. she knew what she did and she knew it was wrong. she couldn’t stand to see him and it wasn’t his fault.

“hi, matt..” she tried to sound as polite at she could but it came out a bit shallow.

all he did was nod his head in return. seeing she went off with nick, he told chris he was going to sleep and to not bother him before hanging up.

“girl- be quiet, i think matt is sleeping,” nick whisper-yelled. matt could hear him from his room. he ignored it knowing he would probably bring a friend home from the party. he went to back to sleep.

he woke up again. this time feeling hungry.

he didn’t bother checking the time, it was still dark out. he made his way down the hall until he bumped into something hard, jumping when he realized it was a person.

“ow- sorry,” he heard a girly voice from the darkness. a sudden light beamed as she turned on her phone flashlight. it was y/n.

he almost gasped in her face. her eyes went wide.

“i’m sorry, i was just going to pee..” she explained. still standing in front of him.

neither of them moved, just staring at eachother.

he couldn’t take it anymore. he grabbed her waist and pressed her against the wall of the hallway, kissing her passionately.

her arms wrapped around his neck.

why did she keep doing this..

matt dragged her by her hips to his room, pushing her to the bed as he shut the door. she tossed her phone somewhere on the bed, he was already in just his underwear from when he went to sleep so he forcefully removed the shirt she had on that belonged to nick.

he was on top of her now, sucking on her neck sure to leave marks. he was fed up with the games she would play.

this time he didn’t care, he was rough and demanding. “turn around, ass up”

she waited as she contemplated her movements. not for long when he raised his voice, “now!”

she jumped, getting into the position where her bare chest was squished into the mattress. she could feel his fingers roam her area until he pushed two digits into her hole making her gasp.

he smacked her ass while he fingered her, the slippery sounds as she clenched around them. he pulled his hand away and used her juices to coat his dick as a lubricant. he pumped a few times grunting at the wet feeling.

she sat in anticipation until feeling his tip finding its way to her entrance, he slowly pushed in once found.

“matt- please!” she moaned into the sheets.

he smirked and slammed fully into her gaining a moan from both their mouths. the feeling of him in her lower abdomen had her nearly screaming, if it wasn’t for nick and chris being home.

the sound of wet skin slapping against eachother filled the room as matt thrusted into her from the back at a fast pace.

suddenly the sounds of a electric tune caused them both to flinch while her phone lit up indicating a call. she wanted to just ignore it. matt leaned over her body to see who it was as his breath hitched in his throat nearly making him choke on his own saliva.

he seen a photo of y/n and kian cuddled up on the screen along with his name flashing with a heart emoji next to it.

“pick it up.” he demanded. was he insane? maybe just a little. feeling euphoric in the moment he didn’t care if kian found out, he kinda wanted him to.

she ignored him and pushed her hips backward trying to get him to continue but he pulled out fully.

she reached for her phone sliding the call button over.

“hello..” she whispered.

kians voice could be heard over the silent room. “hey- you alright? why do you sound like that?”

matt didn’t know if he was pissed or jealous. probably both as he decided to push back into her while she was on the phone.

she held her breath, “i- i’m just tired-“ she let out while matt was pounding into her. she clicked the mute button on the call.

“oh, how was the party? you’re at the triplets house i see” kian noted as he checked her shared location before calling. he just wanted to check on her and make sure everything was good. nothing was wrong about that but what was wrong is she was being unfaithful on the other line. even worse, she enjoyed it.

clicking to unmute, “mm- it was good- it was good i had fun and yea- i’m here,” she drew out trying not to sound too wasted in matt.

she felt her core growing tighter with each blow knowing she was close. she hit mute before his next line.

matt grew impatient, gripping her ass intensely digging his nails in making her whimper, “tell him, y/n”

something about his words made her feral, her eyes rolling back.

“that’s good. i’m glad you have such good friends that’ll take care of you,” kian spoke. oh they took care of her that’s for sure.

“tell him” matt repeated in a more demanding tone, “tell him how good i make you feel”

still thrusting into her, she couldn’t take it much longer feeling the knot about to snap inside of her.

“you there?” kian asked with a yawn.

she unmuted finally, “yes! yes- i’m sorry- i’m so- so tired” stuttering while holding back moans.

“alright i’ll let you go, i love you”

she almost didn’t make her words out in time, “i love you too” hanging up immediately as her orgasm washed over, making her moan loudly and tremble beneath his touch.

he did the same, pulling out right before his load spurted out on her back and ass, dripping down her legs. they both were panting and sweating.

neither of them moved.

“i’m sorry..” her voice cracked with each syllable, “but i can’t..”

this took me way too long to write bc i kept putting it off LMAO

to be continued..

sequel

[visacardteamloverrr]

ex's or not? cs55

summary: y/n and carlos once were the it couple, how are their lives after the breakup? did everyone move on?

warnings: writing this i was sick, i was done and i was ready to delete so enjoyy

i also was supposed to write part 2 to i'll be waiting but oh well...

y/njazzy

liked by lilymunihe, carmenmundt, and 65 000 more

y/njazzy Prague you've been great, next up my beloved Vienna 🍒

comments

y/nstan mother is GLOWING

lilymunihe music to my ears (literally) 🫶🫶

y/njazzy i'm blushing 😊 💋

alexandrasaintmleux i haven't heard you play for agesss, see you in Vienna ig

y/njazzy and whose fault it is?? clearly not mine missy

alexandrasaintmleux oh look at the time, i have to go !!!

chillis the post breakup glow up is reaaal

loverofy/n can we expect some album soon queen?

charlesleclerc exactly @/y/njazzy, care to share with the class???

y/njazzy i will not confirm nor deny

y/njazzy and lord perceval do not push my limits. besides, if you would honour me with your presence, you would know. the choice is yours

charlesleclerc no comment.

user1 she calls him the way that carlos does...

jazzychill she looks so hot in red 🔥

chillistan don't you find it weird that after all charles is in her comments?

y/nfan through all the years y/n was with carlos, she formed a friendship with charles (especially with carlos in ferrari) and other people from the paddock, so it's nothing weird

jazzlover besides, alex and y/n are besties, no?

y/nlos do you remember how carlos would always melt when y/n wear red??? because i do.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, y/njazzy, and 2,093,728 more

carlossainz55 🌶🍔☀️

comments

soylago ON MY KNEEEES

charlosfan what do they feed our drivers, he and charles are soooo hot

chillis the second photo, two plates, carlos sainz is that a date?

landonorris and where are pics from our little golf tournament 🤔🤔🤔 oh, maybe they aren't here because YOU LOST AHAHAHAHHA

carlossainz55 cabron we all know you cheated.

landonorris what a sore loser we have here

charlesleclerc do you remember when we played uno once?

maxverstappen i wonder why you played uno only once

charlesleclerc lando almost lost an eye

landonorris I ALMOST DIED, HE TRIED TO KILL ME

carlossainz55 do NOT listen to them, those situations did not happen

carlossteponme Y/N LIKED???!!

y/nfan they actually still like eachothers posts, i believe they said something about mutual breakup and that there's no hard feelings between them

y/njazzy

liked by yourbestie, lilymunihe, and 64,728 more

y/njazzy new project coming up 🔜

comments

landonorris tell me who he is.

y/njazzy no❤️

landonorris and why exactly ???

y/njazzy i'll tell you, you'll tell oscar, oscar will tell logan, logan alex, and then magically the whole grid will know

landonorris you won't even tell your best friend?

y/njazzy you're talking about yourself or ?

landonorris PARDON #exbesties #friendshipover #offended

y/njazzy WAR IS OVEEEER

landonorris bye.

lilymunihe A MAN? A MAN? A MA-A-A-AN

lilymunihe girlies to the gc riGHT IN THIS MOMENT

lilymunihe avengers ASSEMBLE @/alexandrasaintmleux @/carmenmundt

carmenmundt i think we've missed a chapter here...

y/njazzy alex didn't.

carmenmundt excuse me !

lilymunihe SHE DID WHAT

alexandrasaintmleux tf y/n? i thought i meant something to you?

y/njazzy if i'm going down i'm taking everybody with me 😘😘😘

alexandrasaintmleux DO NOT QUOTE CHANDLER RN

user1 carlosy/nnation how are we feeling

user2 we don't.

user5 i have an idea...

user3 don't. don't give me hope

user7 fuck the guy NEW PROJECT IN THE MAKING ??? NEW MUSIC ???

user9 do i sense some movie soundtrack

liked by autor

user2 can you imagine

user5 Y/N LIKED !!!!!

carlossainz55

liked by maxverstappen, y/njazzy and 2,836,267

carlossainz55 getaway with mi amor

comments

charlesleclerc i pay my respects to her

carlossainz55 ¿disculpe?

charlesleclerc for putting up with you 😘

user carlos sainz jr i was NOT familiar

user1 which one of you bastards stole my man

reyesvdec ❤️

user2 APPROVED BY MAMA SAINZ

user6 i miss her and y/n together in the paddock

user5 that's y/n. mark my words

user1 i truly aspire to be as delusional as you

y/njazzy she's a lucky girl

carlossainz55 im a lucky boy*

user8 y/n's comment? im dead

user3 carlos' response?????? i am crying, the boy really is in love

y/njazzy

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 482,471 more

y/njazzy love. love love love.

comments

user8 our girl is in loooove 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux match made in heaven

carmenmundt you compliment eachother so well 🫶

landonorris you two are disgusting

y/njazzy jealousy, jealousy

user5 the luckiest girl???? i wonder why... maybe because she has carlos sainz

user ring ring, that's the mental ward calling for you

lilymunihe i'm heartbroken, how could you leave me

alex_albon execuse me? i'm right here??

y/njazzy lily it's just an act, let's run away together

lilymunihe i am ready to go

alex_albon HEY ITS NOT FAIR

alex_albon he can't even stand up for himself

carlosssainz55 he can

carlossainz55

liked by y/njazzy, landonorris and 5,839,821

carlossainz55 mi amor, you're the closest to heaven that I have ever been. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise to cherish you forever. I am so incredibly grateful for you and everything you do. I want to thank you for being there for me, even after we broke up. there is no one else on this earth taht i would spend my life with. you are my person, and I am yours.

comments

georgerussell mate leave something for us

alex_albon what I am supposed to do rn, lily won't let me in to our apartment

charlesleclerc gentelmen we are so finished

landonorris die lol 👎

oscarpiastri yk that they can see you crying, right?

y/njazzy my one and only ❤️

user can somebody check on user5

user5 I KNEW I WAS NOT CRAZY

user5 PARENTS ARE REALLY BACK TOGETHER

y/njazzy

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 171,729,819 more

y/njazzy the only ex i would ever come back to 💋💋💋

comments

alexandrasaintmleux finally the ferrari girls are reunited

y/njazzy not for too long

alexandrasaintmleux foul

charlesleclerc too soon y/n, too soon

maxverstappen i won't even ask about the last pic

carlossainz55 the less you know the better you sleep

landonorris i cannot belive this is happening

y/njazzy sucks to suck ig

carlossainz55 only ex i couldn't move on from 🫶🫶🫶

y/njazzy you flatter me

user1 the difference in the capitions pls ✋️

[yanderefarm]

I want to spread a rumor about Emil cheating, make sure nobody knows it was me, then act all mad at him and punish him for it

Also ygs better square up Cherros anon and Jerry anon

-🐕‍🦺

ive been craving to hurt emil. rofan villain reader my beloved, a cute husband to bully and all his money 🥰

cw;; abuse, cheating, non-con (implied), gaslighting, angst

the nobles always talk, talk, talk. it's not odd for them to spread meaningless gossip. it's odd when unsubstantiated gossip makes it into the most popular newspaper in the capital and becomes the headline on everyone's lips. that took your whole allowance at the information guild but it was worth it to see your husband's face now.

the pictures were the best touch, you really should thank the guild master later. undeniable evidence of emil being intimate with one of his maids was sitting in front of him on the desk. his advisor was cautiously scolding him for ruining his reputation that he had just started to build up. the image of loving husband dashed in an instant. he started to raise his voice his hand pounding on the table in anger. that was your cue.

you threw the door of the office open with force.

"emil! are you going to explain yourself? why are all my maids talking about you ch-"

your eyes caught the images, you hadn't actually seen them yet. god they were good, they made you actually feel a bit sick to see. perfect.

".... what is that?"

you watch his face drop as all his anger melts into panic. poor bastard tries to cover up the images.

"this doesn't concern you."

"... you're fucking one of your maids?"

the accusation burns his heart and he feels like he's going to be sick. he tries to cover the images more.

"this doesn't-" thwack!

you slap him across the face as hard as you can, your wedding ring leaving an imprint on his cheek.

"everyone get out. i need to speak to my husband privately."

his servants and advisors scurried out of there, afraid of the situation about to play out, only your right hand maid stayed. she closed the behind the last person to leave, locking it for you. you let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against his desk, your hand rubbing your temples. emil didn't look up, his eyes wide but you could see there was fear in them even with his head hung.

you picked up one of the pictures, one where the maid was clearly caught in the middle of having sex with him. you'd been out of the capital a few weeks ago for an event in your home kingdom. really it was just an excuse to let the guild master do what he needed. he really exceeded your expectations. it was hard not to smile.

"i don't remember doing that, please believe me."

"oh?" you set the picture down and shot him a glare. "just because you don't remember fucking her i should forgive you? what about kissing her? what about pushing her against the window behind you?"

"i-"

he watched helplessly as you picked up one of the pictures, your hand shaking. oh, when you got your hands on the royal treasury you were going to drown the guild master in gold. you had told him about emil's hatred for letting you leave the palace grounds, how emil wouldn't even take you to the cafe you so desperately wanted to go to. and here was a picture of him in the same cafe with the maid.

"what is this?"

"i-i don't know."

you forced your face to scrunch up in anger despite how excited you were. you were going to enjoy this too much. you turned to your maid who was still standing by the door.

"do you have my riding crop?"

"yes, your highness." she presented it to you and you handed her the picture of him at the cafe in exchange.

"what would you do if you were in my position?"

"i would ask for a divorce, your highness."

"no-"

emil's poor voice cracked but all he got was another glare.

"then I suppose I'm being merciful, right?"

"you are far too kind to that cheating filth, your highness."

you walked over to stand beside emil who already looked so broken and frightened. you ran your riding crop up his cheek.

"take your shirt off. unless you would rather the divorce?"

emil's body slipped to the ground as his knees gave out underneath him. tears started to stream from his eyes like the dam had finally broken.

"please, dont leave me, please, please."

you nudged him with the riding crop.

"shirt. off."

his hands were shaking as he started to unbutton his shirt.

[bbokicidal]

"I Guess I Never Knew You." | OT8 [SKZ]

Genre : Angst [NO COMFORT]

Pairing : SKZ OT8 x GN!Reader

Summary : Based off of a request asking for reactions/how it would play out if the members were to cheat on you during your relationship. Each scenario is different - and these are rather short simply because I am trying to focus on Kinktober right now. Hopefully whoever requested this will be satisfied!

Warnings : CHEATING, lots of crying, angry responses from the boys, dismissal from the boys, reader gets angry in a few of them, yelling, etc. Very emotional.

These situations are all fictional and are not made to represent the boys. While I do write them as well as I can - based closely off of their personality and how I think they would realistically react - I honest to God do not think any of these men would be capable of cheating on their partner. Specifically Jeongin.

Bangchan - He cheats while you think he's busy with work

The excuses were so easy to make with you. 'Sorry, Angel. I'm staying late at the studio again because Jisung is sick.' 'I'm going in early to work on choreography with Min. See you.' 'Be back late, don't wait up.'

When eventually he just stopped giving you warnings, worry set in. His health was your top priority - but nothing of your own was his apparently. You'd walked into the studio with a small lunchbox full of snacks and water for him, assuming he was staying late again, only to see him with someone in his lap.

It's enough to make you tense, barely hearing his whispers and gently shushes of worry. He was sorry, he meant it, he swore, he didn't know you would find out --

It took every bone in your body to not hit him with that little metal lunchbox.

Lee Know - He cheats with an old friend from school

A girl you'd seen in his posts before. You'd found them kissing in a park while you were on your way to work, walking along the sidewalk only to stop and stare. A few girls had also paused to point and giggle, assuming the girl he was holding hands with was his girlfriend as he'd never done anything with you in public - no one knew that you were the one he should've been sucking face with.

Minho kisses the girl once more before they depart, pivoting on his heel only to fault. He stares at you from where he stands, your unmoving form timid and beginning to shake as the tears streaked down your face. He lifted a hand to reach out, watching as your body turned and - in the pouring rain - dropped your umbrella in your pursuit to get away.

He yelled, crying out for you to stop and let him explain. You didn't seem to listen, putting your feelings first and refusing to hear him out as he chased you down. He was fast - you were faster - darting across the road and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle as you stumbled to the sidewalk before continuing to run to your apartment.

It really was a good thing you hadn't moved in with him when he'd asked you to.

Changbin - He cheats while away for a weekend

Seungmin had sat you down, told you everything. He'd shown you pictures he'd taken on his phone because he knew you were -- God, you were wonderful. And that wasn't his own feelings for you talking.

You'd been so good to Changbin. You made sure he ate three meals a day, made sure he had water, encouraged him to keep working on his music, his solos - choreography, etc. You'd done everything for him when he didn't have the energy to, visiting him during late nights and hugging him tight to tell him how wonderful he was and that he deserved the world.

Apparently, he grew a bit too cocky during their recent trip to Japan. Seungmin's pictures painted a portrait of your boyfriend with another woman in his lap, his face hidden by her hair as she sucked marks onto his skin that would disappear by the next morning.

You didn't confront him - didn't feed into it. You thanked Seungmin, left after patting his shoulder knowing it would likely be the last time you'd see him, and went home to move everything out of your shared apartment.

The next day, Changbin went on an indefinite hiatus.

Hyunjin - He cheats online

It started with the fucking instagram models.

Then he was messaging people, you find out. Contacting women he'd seen at fashion weeks or previous works with magazines. He'd asked them for photos, told them just how beautiful they were, and after looking through their profiles on your own, you'd felt like every ounce of self confidence you'd had was completely destroyed.

He'd only realized you'd found out when he came home from practice - no, 'practice.' - and found you sitting on the couch with tear stained cheeks and his phone in your hand. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind, so eager to meet up with the other woman in his contacts.

You'd packed all of his stuff, told him to get out, and he'd immediately started crying. You'd never seen him so devastated, kneeling at your feet to beg you forgiveness until you slapped him and shoved him back by the shoulders. He sat on the floor, stunned at your boldness to yell in his face that he was a liar - a cheater - and that he never loved you.

He'd sniffled, moving to get up and grab the bags you'd packed for him so he could leave. He stands in shame as he waits by your door while you seethe on the couch, silent, calling his new hookup to come get him. He couldn't call any of the members - they couldn't know about this. Not yet. The shame was eating him way.

Han - He cheats while on tour

He's in the USA when he texts you that he needs to break up. It's enough to break your heart, have you sobbing on the phone as you ask him over voice memo why he needs to break up with you now of all times. He was two weeks from being home in your arms - why now??

He'd chalked it up to just feeling distant, feeling as though you were neglecting him and his needs a bit while he was away.

Jeongin later reveals to you over a phone call that Jisung had hooked up with multiple women while they were gone over the months. He sounds broken as he relays the information to you, apologizing as you sob into the phone and saying how you never deserved any of it.

You were more angry than anything that Jisung had broken up with you in an attempt to cover up his own wrong-doings while also saying it was your fault.

Oh, but the twitter post you made the following day was enough to be near career-ruining for Jisung. And it was damn well enough to have him crawling back to you, blowing up your phone and begging you to delete the post. But it was already far too late for him by then.

Felix - He doesn't cheat on you because he's the most perfect sunshine angel baby on earth (I'm running out of ideas)

Seungmin - He cheats on you with someone you know

Your best friend - Well, ex-best friend - was the woman Seungmin had his eyes on. Not you.

He'd dated you to get closer to her, using you as a pawn in his little game until he was close enough. He would curl up next to you in the mornings, whispering soft goodbyes as he left for work before returning home late after he'd spent the evening in her bed.

You'd found out through another close friend who she had let the information slip to. Sleeping with an idol - definitely something to brag about.

He'd knocked on your door for nearly half an hour before you answered, threatening to hit him with a frying pan if he didn't leave. He was filled with confusion until you hissed out that you knew what he was doing. His eyes widened, puppy-like and scared after realizing you'd found out about his little scheme.

"Everyone is right about you! You're a fucking snake, Seungmin. You use people, you're full of fucking lies and bullshit! Do us all a favor and never date anyone again, you piece of dogshit!"

I.N - He cheats on you with a trainee

It's hard to stomach when you see it. He was so young when he entered the idol scene - How was he even doing it? Hooking up with a nineteen year old-- A girl who had just appeared at the JYPE building a few months ago.

She was set to debut in a new girl group - a pretty thing, tall and slim with long hair and a cutesy style. The ideal young woman for a girl group. And apparently he'd enjoyed her, too.

He isn't aware of your presence until you're stomping up behind him and shoving him by the shoulders, stumbling away to turn to you. He stops, breathing hitched and arm still around the girl's waist as she stands stunned.

You'd bit at him, yelling how he was full of shit when he'd said he'd never understand why 'I Like It' was a good song, how he'd never be able to imagine hooking up with people with no romantic intentions.

"You want to be with her then, right? You want to date her? If you really don't believe in just hooking up for fun, that must be the explanation."

He stutters, stumbling over his words as his eyes avert. "W-- ... Well..."

Your chest raised as you took in a breath, wanting to slap the man for his actions. Instead, you'd turned to leave, bumping into a very oblivious Chan on your way out. He'd stopped, asking what was wrong, before turning to peer over at Jeongin and the girl standing there, shame filling the two of them.

"Oh, mate..."

Permanent Tagist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersupriseee @possum-playground

[starlightandsouls]

Yours to Save, Yours to Guard

Part 2 of Yours to Have, Yours to Break

Summary: Azriel and Reader pick up the pieces of Cassian's mistake.

Warnings: angst (?), severe panic attack

A/N: it's finally here guys. I actually loved how this one turned out, filled to the brim with lots of angst and emotions that is typical of my work. I feel like last time I rushed the first part so it wasn't as impactful. Anywaysss, I hope you guys like this as much as I do, and please leave a comment telling me what you think. My motivation levels are lowwww rn and your comments always make my day!

Azriel POV

Agony tore through his heart like a viper striking its prey. Its poison seeping through his veins and making an act as simple as breathing seem laborious. How did everything collapse so quickly? How could he let it slip away from him so easily? His love… his nightingale was gone.

After somewhat coming to his senses, he had winnowed straight to his nightingale’s house, knowing that was where she would return. Just like him, she liked being alone when faced with the hurdles life threw at her. Just two sides of the same accursed coin. And that was where he found her; her room in a mess, belongings sprawled everywhere, and his nightingale sitting in the middle of it all, heaving with sobs. He had frozen at the sight, his wretched heart breaking even more. But the sound of her never ending tears had broken him out of his stupor.

Azriel immediately fell to his knees before and tried to grab her hands as he pleaded,

“My love, please, listen to me-”

He hadn’t had the chance to finish his sentenced before you wrenched your hands away from his, as if his very touch burned you. The thought of that pierced through his very being.

“Don’t touch me, you… You fucking cheat!” You roared. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; his nightingale never yelled at anyone, no matter how upset she was. He didn’t even know you were capable of such fury, let alone releasing it at him. You had gotten up from your place at the foot of your bed and had moved away from him to another corner of the room. Pointless as he followed you right away.

“It’s not what it looked like, will you please listen to me?”

“Really, Azriel? Could you sound any more typical right now? You know, if you had the guts to have an affair, you should have at least come up with a better excuse when you were with her,” you spat at him. The hatred burning bright in your eyes made him want to fall to his knees before you. But he knew he had to explain…he had to tell you what happened. This was his one chance, otherwise he’d lose you forever.

“I didn’t! I would never! I swear on my life, I have no idea why Elain was there, or why she did what she did. I had no part of it, I swear to you. Please just think about it. If I wanted to be with her, why would I have made plans with you? To celebrate our anniversary no less?” he pleaded.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you got tired of me, hm? Why mess around with some ‘commoner’ when you can have the High Lady’s sister?”

What? Where were you getting all this from? Why were you thinking like this? You weren’t like this and neither was he…and you…you knew that.

“Love…please,” Azriel begged as he moved closer trying to reach for your hands. Yet again you evaded him and moved away to another corner. It was as if the two were dancing a dance of push and pull, one always out of reach of the other. You turned around and just…looked at him.

“You know, when she came to me, and with everything she said…I didn’t believe her. Even when every part of my being was begging me to, I thought…my Azriel wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me, not her. Why couldn’t you keep my trust Azriel? Why did you shatter it like this?”

“Told you what? Love, please, if you don’t want to listen to me at least tell me what Elain said to you. So that I can prove to you that it is a lie.” Azriel was genuinely at a loss for words. As the situation progressed, he became more and more confused.

“She came to the bookshop before I left, Elain. At first I thought she was a customer, but no…she was there to steal something else altogether. And imagine how shocked I was when she told me that you have been having an affair with her for the past year. That the only reason the two of you kept it a secret was because of the High Lord. And now that he approves of your relationship, the two of you don’t have to hide anymore. Which is why you were going to break up with me today.”

Azriel fell quiet at that and stared at you for a good five minutes trying to process the words that just came out of your mouth. The sheer insanity of it only worsened his addled mind.

“Darling, that is…she’s lying. How can you believe her? Why would you believe her? What proof did she give you? Why would you trust some stranger over.. me?” Azriel demanded, his own anger rising. He was the innocent one here yet no one seemed to want to listen to him.

“Is it not the truth then?”

“NO!”

It was a battle of wills now. Both of you were simmering with fury right now- you with your rage at being betrayed and Azriel with his frustration at being ignored. Two sides of the same coin indeed.

Knowing he had to be the one to surrender, that be had to placate you if he wanted this relationship to survive, Azriel softened. He extinguished the rage that was threatening to burn their love to the ground and walked closer to you again. He reached for your hands to offer yet another apology, an explanation…anything to get you to show mercy.

But you snatched your hand back with such…disgust, as if his touch had burned you.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you fucking cheat!” you screamed, “don’t touch me!”

Azriel immediately let go of you. A thousand ash arrows could have pierced him on the battlefield and they would have hurt him less than the utter hate and disgust marring your usually soft features.

“Love…” A final plead, a final beg…the last thread holding them together. One last try of reaching out from the darkness he was drowning in.

“I said DON’T TOUCH ME! They were all right about you…you…you’re just another Illyrian brute who uses women as he pleases. I was a fool to think you were different, that you…you loved me.” All the hate had vanished in an instant from your face, replaced by something worse. In its place was a crestfallen defeat, the ravaging fire of fury replaced with silver tears now streaming down your face.

And it was the sight of your tears that told Azriel it was all lost… he had lost. He had sworn an oath once, to you, to himself, that he would never cause you an ounce of heartbreak.

The memory seemed bittersweet now. You had been crying because of some novel that you were reading as a hero had died tragically at the end. In his attempts to cheer you up he had remarked how this made him better than the heroes of novels that you always fawned over, for he never made you cry.

“Sure of ourselves are we?” you had asked with a smirk, your amusement returning to your gaze.

Mission accomplished, he had thought to himself.

“Of course, I never hurt you so there is no reason for you to cry,” he had answered.

“So do you promise then, Shadowsinger, that you will never make me cry?” you had jested.

“I swear on it my nightingale. I will never make you cry, I promise.”

It looked like you were thinking of the same memory, that now seemed almost a millennia ago. Had they been that happy? Was that what their life had been like? Happiness now seemed like a foreign country, whose borders had no room for immigrants like him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said before he winnowed away to his house in Velaris. Before shadows engulfed him completely, he could have sworn he saw you crumble to the ground.

…………………………………………...............................................

His lounge came into view, exactly as he had left it. But everything seemed strange, foreign. As he stood in the absolute silence of his house, the reality of what had happened settled in on him. He stumbled to the couch, his vision blurring slightly, making the journey troublesome.

Azriel’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled his house. The room spun around him, the walls closing in as if trying to crush him under the weight of his despair. He sank to the floor, his back against the couch where he and his nightingale had once spent countless evenings tangled together, laughing, and whispering secrets.

“She’s gone,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. His breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, and he felt like he was suffocating. He clutched his chest, the pressure unbearable. His mind raced with images of you just moments ago; you looking at him with such disgust, you wrenching your hands away from his, your tears streaming down your grief stricken face.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, rocking back and forth. “This can’t be happening. She can’t be gone. My nightingale can’t be gone.”

His vision blurred with tears, and he could barely see the room around him. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His fingers dug into the carpet, seeking some grounding, some way to make the pain stop. But nothing helped. The anguish was too deep, too consuming. How could this happen? How had he let this happen? His nightingale was the one gift he had stolen from the Mother. The one happiness he had gotten in this miserable life. It… It wasn’t fair. He always gave up every thing, he did everything for everyone…so why wasn’t he allowed this one happiness? Why did the Mother hate him so much to dangle this beautiful fate in front of him all these years only to snatch it away? Which one of his sins was he being punished for?

Memories of their time together flashed through his mind. Your smile, the way you looked at him with those eyes full of love, the sound of your laughter that always made his heart soar. And now, it was all gone. You were gone. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer, and he doubled over, choking on sobs.

“I need you,” he cried out, his voice breaking. “Please, come back. I can’t do this without you.”

But the silence was his only answer. The home that had once been their sanctuary now felt like a tomb, cold and empty. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t support him. He fell to his knees, his body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“Why did you leave?” he wailed, his voice echoing off the walls. “Why?”

His breath came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. He felt lightheaded, his vision tunneling. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm himself, but the panic was relentless. It clawed at him, tearing him apart from the inside.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

But you weren’t there to hear him. You were gone, and he was alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. He was alone again, like he had always been, like he had always meant to be. The realization tore through him, a fresh wave of agony that left him breathless. He curled into a ball on the floor, his body wracked with sobs, and let the darkness close in.

…………………………………........................................................

Cassian POV:

He had stayed in the training arena long after his brother had left, trying to come up with a possible explanation. Azriel didn’t blow up like that… ever. No matter what trial or pain they were going through, his brother was the one who grounded them all; always a calm, stoic presence. For him to react this way, he knew something major had to have happened. But what?

Cassian knew this mystery could only be solved by the culprit behind it, and his brother had conveniently provided him with a name: Elain.

Immediately he set off to find the particular Archeron sister that had apparently caused his brother so much woe. Knowing Elain, she was in one of two places: the kitchens or the gardens. And the latter seemed to be her choice of the day as that is where he found her; pruning away at some roses, humming a tune, as if she hadn’t… done whatever it is that she had done, but Cassian knew it had to be horrible.

Azriel may be Spymaster, but centuries as General had taught him to read people in an instant, and Elain Archeron despite all her self perceived slyness and schemes, was an open book. He noticed how she stiffened as he approached, how her stabs at the soil got much swifter, he noticed the panic on her face that she tried but failed to school into nonchalance.

“Elain,” he greeted plainly, wanting her to slowly succumb to her panic before he asked her anything.

“Cassian, strange seeing you here. Nesta’s not here if that’s who you are looking for.”

“No, actually, I was looking for you. You haven’t happen to have seen Azriel today have you?” he inquired.

“Az? No…no I haven’t seen him for quite some time actually,” she answered but that one second look of panic, of fear, gave her away. It cemented her as the culprit behind whatever crime she had committed against his brother. Elain then proceeded to grab some flowers she had plucked, put them in a basket, and attempted to walk past him. But he blocked her path and glared right back at her,

“Elain, what the hell did you do?” he demanded, emphasizing every single word.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” again she tried to maneuver past him but he didn’t budge an inch.

“Elain,” he growled, “you’re going to tell me what you did. Right. The. Fuck. Now.”

And that was when she crumbled. She broke down- crocodile tears if you ask him- and recalled every single thing she had done: from eavesdropping his conversation with Nesta, to asking around about the girl Azriel was with by using her name, visiting her bookshop, then ambushing Azriel at the café. At the end of it, Cassian was speechless. He looked at the woman in front of him and saw a stranger. Elain, sweet Elain, always assumed by everyone to be innocent and kind. The crime she had committed twisted her features into something ugly and heinous- mirroring her vile heart.

“How could you?”

“Cauldron! Why doesn’t anyone understand me? I love him!! And he was messing around with that…that bitch. I deserve him, not her!” Elain screamed, a wildness overtaking her expression.

“You do not deserve anything, Elain. You can’t force someone to love you. And you don’t hurt the people you love. What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would break up Azriel’s relationship, his very happy relationship, and he would what? Run happily to you? Are you honestly that delusional?!” Cassian roared back.

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted him first. What right does she have to just waltz in and steal him from me?”

“She didn’t steal anyone, Elain. Azriel was never yours-”

“Well then at least he’s not hers anymore now either. If I can’t have him, no one can,” she said coolly as if she had told some joke. The calmness with which she said it took out all the fight from his body.

“You’re pathetic,” he whispered. And with that he made to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” she called after him.

“To find my brother. Rhysand will deal with you.”

What Elain had done was unforgivable; intentionally breaking up his dear brother’s relationship like that, ambushing him with a kiss against his will…was no less than assault. And Cassian had a sinking feeling Rhysand would have a lot to say to the middle Archeron sister.

……………………………………………………………….....................

Flying to the River House, he barged in to find Rhysand. Azriel’s reaction to everything made it clear that the situation was more serious than he had anticipated. He also knew that he needed Rhysand to intervene and help come to solution since Azriel would not listen to a word Cassian said. What the hell. The cat was already out of the bag, he might as well tell Rhys too, just so he can help Cassian clean up this mess.

Thankfully, Feyre was not home. He really didn’t want to tell his High Lady about her own sister’s crimes- he would much rather leave that conversation to Rhys. Speaking of, he found the High Lord in his study going over reports. His brother gave a warm smile as he saw Cassian walk in but his face fell at his expression.

“What’s happened?”

Cassian sighed and recounted the whole debacle, starting from when he first saw Azriel and his girlfriend at the café to his recent conversation with Elain. To say his brother was seething by the end would be an understatement. One thing about Rhys was that he is insanely protective of his family and while Elain might be his sister in law, the three of them had been at each other’s side for five centuries- it was no mystery of who was given priority.

And what Elain had done… His brother never spoke of it but he knew Rhysand was still haunted by his time Under the Mountain, by Amarantha. Even more than before his brother had always been the one to enforce the importance of consent, in every aspect of life, not just intimacy. For Elain to so blatantly ignore his brother’s refusal must have struck a chord with Rhys. The High Lord was now pacing in his office, almost shaking with anger.

“Where is she now?” the High Lord demanded.

Knowing he must be talking about Elain, he answered, “She’s at the House of Wind.”

“Cauldron, I just want to… never mind we’ll deal with her later. Where’s Az?”

“I have no idea. He winnowed away from the training arena and I haven’t seen him since. He wasn’t in his room at the House of Wind, and he’s not here either,” Cassian explained.

“He must be at his own place then. Let’s go.”

“Me? Shouldn’t you go on your own? He seemed really pissed off, Rhysand. Maybe you should go on your own, I don’t want to make anything worse,” Cassian said hesitantly.

“Don’t be a fool, Cass. What’s happened has happened. We can’t change it. But we can make Azriel hear us out right now. Let’s go.”

With that the two brothers winnowed away in search of their third, terrified of what they might find.

……………………………………..................................................

Arriving at Azriel’s place they were met with darkness and a pungent stench of alcohol. Walking further into the house, they found Azriel passed out on his couch, the coffee table littered with empty bottles of vodka. Shit. Shit. Shit. Azriel had only confronted Cassian in the training arena this morning. Just how much had he drank since then in this short period of time. Turning to Rhysand, he saw similar horror in his eyes. Azriel never drank like this. It was usually Cassian who blacked out drunk on nights out, Azriel-ever the vigilant Spymaster- would always remain sober enough to keep track of his surroundings.

Rhysand walked over and gently shook Azriel awake, emitting several groans from the passed out male.

“Az, wake up brother,” Rhysand prodded him gently.

Azriel only let out another groan in response and covered his eyes with his arm, burrowing in further into the couch.

“C’mon none of that,” Rhysand said, pushing him again. Eventually, Rhysand managed to get Azriel up and sitting on the couch. The sway to his body and his unfocused eyes confirmed what they were already suspecting: Azriel was very, very drunk.

Out of nowhere, Azriel made to get up but his intoxication was clearly affecting his motor skills as he stumbled and would have face planted on the floor but luckily Rhysand caught him in his arms.

“Easy there brother…”

“I’m fine,” Azriel grumbled before pushing off of Rhys. His slurred words telling that he was very much not fine. Azriel then made to walk to the kitchen when his eyes landed on him. Cassian steeled himself, readying himself for another onslaught of Azriel’s accusations, knowing full well he deserved them. Honestly he would have preferred the yelling. Because Azriel said… nothing. The utter defeat in his brother’s eyes made Cassian want to die almost. Azriel only pushed past Cassian to the kitchen, not even sparing him another glance.

The two of them assumed perhaps Azriel was getting a glass of water but were immediately proven wrong when they saw him rummaging through cabinets and pulling out yet another bottle of vodka.

“Hey now, none of that. You’ve had enough Azriel,” Rhysand exclaimed, the authority in his voice urging Az to listen.

“Yeah, I’ve just about had enough with all this,” Azriel said with a wry laugh, still stumbling where he stood when he took another sip of the bottle. The bastard was going to give himself alcohol poisoning at this rate if he didn’t slow down. Not being able to watch any longer, Cassian rushed forward to grab the bottle from his brother’s hands only to be pushed right back,

“Don’t fucking touch me. This is… it’s all your fault,” Azriel barked.

“Okay so we’re talking now, good,” Rhysand said all of a sudden. Azriel laughed a dry laugh,

“I have nothing to say to anyone, get the hell out.”

“Az, we know you’re upset” Rhysand started but was interrupted by Azriel,

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now, Rhysand. So why don’t you take your fake sympathy and pity and shove it up your ass.”

With that Azriel pushed past the two of them and moved towards his room. Cassian followed, knowing he had to get through to Az right now if they wanted any chance to fix this mess.

“Azriel listen to me-” Cassian started, pushing past the door when Azriel tried to slam it in his face, “No you’re going to listen whether you like it or not. Yes, I knew about your girlfriend. I saw the two of you at the café by the Sidra because I’d been out to get some things for Nesta and the girls. Yes, I was upset and hurt that you didn’t tell me, especially after I found out that you had been courting her for two years. And yes I told Nesta, which I realize was a mistake as well. It was not my place to tell her. But I was only discussing it with my mate because I was upset about it. And she swore not to tell anyone either. I… I didn’t tell Elain. She was eavesdropping our conversation from our bedroom door and she asked around about you girlfriend through her name. I didn’t tell her Az, let alone send her there. I… I would never ruin your happiness like that, brother.”

Cassian was panting at the end of his rant, out of breath from all the emotions he had let out, but he knew he had to get through to Azriel right now. Or else this misunderstanding would only get worse. Rhysand now stood behind him, ready to jump in between his two brothers in case he needed to.

Azriel only stared back at him as a single tear made its way down his face,

“It doesn’t matter… none of it matters. My nightingale.. she’s gone. She left. She left me and I can’t… I can’t breathe… I can’t…”

Cassian saw the sudden shift in his brother; how Azriel’s panicked gaze flitted across the room quicker than his shadows, how he began to grab at his chest, his neck. Immediately Cassian moved to his brother,

“Hey, Az. Just breathe okay. You’re alright, “ Cassian tried comforting his brother, wanting to ground him before he spiraled into a full on panic attack. He put Azriel’s hand on his own chest, trying to get Az to match his breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe,” Cassian repeated the mantra he had uttered a thousand times to his brother. Despite his stoic attitude, out of all of them, Azriel had always been more prone to panic attacks, had been since childhood. Perhaps it was his silent, secretive nature, Azriel always kept his issues to himself, never voicing them to anyone or complaining. Maybe bottling up everything in such a way was what caused his brother to collapse from time to time. There’s only so much a person can take, even if they are as strong as his brother.

Eventually Azriel’s breaths calmed and he crumbled in Cassian’s arms. Slowly the two fell to the floor and Azriel… just cried. Cassian looked at Rhysand who had a similarly shocked expression. They had never, ever seen Azriel break down like this. Cassian was at a loss for words, and it must have seemed like it too, because Rhys walked over and kneeled by them too.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright, Az. I know all seems lost right now but we’ll fix this. I swear it,” Rhys comforted.

“You can’t… fix anything,” Azriel let out amidst his sobs, “she’s gone, she doesn’t even want to see me.”

As Azriel’s sobs got more violent, the two brothers became more and more concerned. None of their attempts to calm him down were working and at this rate they were worried he might as well spiral into another panic attack. .

“Why does this always happen to me? I do everything for everyone… I always give up everything. Why can’t I have this one thing? Why can’t anyone love me? Why does everyone always leave?” Azriel lamented, hiccupping because of the tears.

To say Cassian’s heart broke in that moment would be an understatement. It was then that he swore to the Mother that he would fix this for his brother, even if he had to give up everything he had for it.

…............................................................................................

Cassian had left Azriel with Rhysand after he had pried your name and whereabouts from Azriel. It had been difficult with Az not even wanting to mention your name but eventually he had succumbed to Cassian’s persistence. He was ashamed to admit that he had used his brother’s still drunken state to pry information out of him but whatever. It was for a good cause.

Now he was standing outside your door. He had first visited The Quill- a bookshop he now knew you owned, Nesta would be delighted- but unfortunately it was closed for the day. Knocking he waited for a response but got none. Not knowing what else to do, he knocked again. Azriel hadn’t mentioned another location, if you weren’t here Cassian didn’t know what he would do.

He was about to knock again when a muffled voice called out,

“I’m coming!”

So you were home. Great. As Cassian was preparing what to say the door opened and… shit. There you were, looking just as bad as Azriel; swollen eyes, puffy face, red nose. All indicators of a long crying session. Cassian wanted to kick himself: just how many people had he hurt with his hot headedness.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

It was at your question that Cassian realized that he had been gawking at you, which instantly snapped him out of his stupor.

“Yes, sorry about that. I was hoping we could talk for a moment. I’m Cassian, Azriel’s brother?”

He hoped that Az had at least mentioned him to you otherwise this was going to be a very difficult conversation. However, your face fell as he mentioned Azriel’s name-shit- and you began to close the door in his face as you said,

“I have nothing to say to you. Goodbye.”

And you had almost slammed the door in Cassian’s face but he wrenched his feet in between the door,

“Look I’m sorry. I know you’re angry and hurt and you have every right to be but please… please listen to me. I won’t take long, just a moment… Please.”

Internally Cassian begged every deity out there to bless you with some mercy, some understanding. And despite recent events proving otherwise, it seemed just this once fate was on his side as you opened the door to let him in and took him to your drawing room. Crossing your arms in front you, you stared back at him with a fiery gaze, daring him to say whatever it is he wanted to say. Feisty. He was beginning to see why his brother liked you.

“If Azriel has sent you here to offer some made up apologies, I would recommend you save your time and leave,” you said before Cassian could get anything out.

“No, not an apology, an explanation.”

You scoffed and started to move away but Cassian continued before you could leave,

“Look whatever happened that day in the café, it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. It was…mine.”

He could see how your ears piqued up at that as you turned to him with inquisitive eyes. He had your attention then… good. So Cassian began again and told his tale, explaining Elain overhearing his conversation with Nesta, her vile schemes and also her long held affections for his brother. But he made it a point to reiterate how his brother had never returned those affections and that it was only after Cassian found out about you that he understood why- because his heart already belonged to another, to you.

“So please, if you want to take out your anger on anyone, take it out on me, take it out on Elain, but please do not punish my brother. He has no fault in all of this, and he can’t live without you. I know that now.”

Cassian had left after that, knowing you needed some time to process everything. He only hoped that he had done enough for his brother, and that the two lovers could find their way back to each other again.

...........................................................................................

Having cleared the misunderstanding between the two lovers, Cassian and Rhysand’s attentions had turned to the culprit: Elain. Rhys’s fury had returned full force when he was face to face with her. As he had raged and yelled, at one point Cassian thought Rhysand might end up killing Elain altogether- Azriel’s breakdown only acting as fuel to the fire. Seeing Azriel cry as he did had sparked a violent need for revenge in the two brothers.

In the end, Elain had survived- Cassian suspected probably because of Feyre. But Rhysand would no longer tolerate her in Velaris, even for Feyre. As punishment, Rhysand had sent her to Wind Haven where she would stay for the foreseeable future. With no allowance form Rhys, she would have to earn her keep by working in the camp, as all the “commoners” did. Cassian had almost laughed when Rhysand had thrown Elain’s insult to you right back at her. With that out of the way, Cassian had turned to you and his brother.

As it turns out, his brother and his lover were equally stubborn. Despite the air being cleared between the two of you, both parties being absolved of guilt, neither of you was willing to take the first step. Azriel was still convinced that you wanted nothing to do with him, that you did not want to see him. And you… you had somehow managed to convince yourself that in the argument that had taken place between you and Azriel, you had hurt him to such a measure that you could not face him.

Ultimately, Cassian wanted to slam his head against a wall. Neither of you was willing to budge so he knew he had to take matters into his own hands. Therefore he had concocted a simple plan. He had convinced Azriel to take an evening stroll with him, claiming that his brother had spent too many days locked up in his house, drinking and brooding, that he needed some fresh air. In the end it had taken a direct order from Rhysand to get Azriel out of the house. Cassian knew his brother did not like to play rank with them but in this case it was necessary. If he was left to his own devices Azriel would most likely wither away in his home.

Well, they had gone flying and had even stopped at a restaurant where Cassian had forced his brother to eat- because Azriel did look like a walking corpse. It was when they were walking by the Sidra thkat the second component of his plan arrived- you.

The two lovers froze as they spotted each other. Now that the two were face to face, they had to talk.

“Oh, damn it. I was supposed to take Nesta flying. Well I better leave. Enjoy your walk Azriel.” With that Cassian took to the sky but not before he saw his brother’s accusatory glare. As he soared to the clouds, he sent a prayer to the Mother to soften both your hearts and allow the two of you to work out your differences- if only for the sake of your love.

..........................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The scene was rather poetic; two lovers mirroring each other’s pain. Your eyes looked hollow and sunken, as he was sure his did as well, indicative of long nights spent crying instead of sleeping.

He knew he couldn’t walk away, as much as his mind was begging him to. He wasn’t that cowardly. So he slowly approached you, allowing you the chance to walk away, but thankfully you moved to him as well.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice hoarse from days of not using it- he hadn’t really fell like talking to anyone. You nodded and the pair walked over to the bench that gave a brilliant view of the river in front of them, yet at the moment all seemed bland and gray.

“So…”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“Sorry? Nightingale, what are you sorry for? It was my fault… I…” Azriel didn’t know what his fault was but he knew his darling was not to be blamed.

“No, you have done nothing wrong. Your brother, Cassian, he explained everything, everything that the bitch did,” you spat out, “It is my fault Azriel. You… You did nothing at all. That bitch kissed you against your will and I blamed you for it. And I am so sorry for that, Azriel.”

Azriel was at a loss. He had walked into this conversation expecting to be confronted and now… he was confused.

“I should have listened to you, I should have stopped to think but I didn’t and I’m so sorry Azriel,” you cried, tears lining your eyes.

“Its okay, nightingale. It was the heat of the moment, you didn’t have to time to react to what you saw. I probably would have reacted the same.”

And it was true. With how possessive he was, Azriel knew seeing his nightingale with another man would not have ended well.

“But you came to me… You came to my house to explain yourself even when you had done nothing wrong… And I didn’t even listen, and I said such horrible things. I’m so so sorry Azriel,” you said amidst tears as your head fell into your hands.

Instantly, he took you into his arms. And just like that he felt whole again. You were where you belonged, and that’s all that matters. But you pulled away and took his hands in your own,

“I need you to know, Azriel. I did not mean anything I said, not a single thing. Everything I said about your hands and you… I meant none of it. I was just so angry and I used your insecurities against you and I am so so sorry for that. Please, I understand if you do not wish to be with me any longer, but please forgive me. I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for hurting you like that, I’m so so sorry Az.”

With that you broke down into tears and Azriel pulled you back into his arms, every part of his soul begging him to comfort you, to provide solace.

“Love, its okay, I forgive you. I know you did not mean it, because I know my nightingale holds no malice for anyone in her heart. Yes it did hurt in the moment but we were both not thinking straight in the moment.”

“You shouldn’t forgive me so easily,” you remarked as you wiped away some tears.

“I think that should be for me to decide, no?”

A strange silence fell between them, one that had had no place in their relationship before. It was the gnawing kind that slowly began to suffocate you. The two of you had resolved the misunderstanding but so much had been done, so much had been said, that they didn’t know how to move past it. So they sat quietly side by side, staring at the river before them, wondering to themselves if it could carry away their woe as well.

No matter how much he tried to ignore it, there was one question that was gnawing at the back of his mind. Azriel knew if he wanted any hope for their relationship to survive, he had to ask it now. Otherwise they could try to move past this together and dance around it, ignoring it’s presence as it slowly suffocated Azriel to death.

“Why didn’t you come for me, when Cassian had told you the truth?”

You turned to glance at him, the pain shining through your eyes, then turned back to the River as you answered,

“I was afraid, afraid that you would turn me away. Already I had convinced myself that I did not deserve you… everything that happened only cemented the fact that I would only hurt you.”

That- was not what he was expecting. He had thought perhaps you had already given up on their relationship, maybe you didn’t think him worth the effort. To think that you thought yourself unworthy… it wasn’t like you. Some deep instinct of his told him there was more. He wasn’t the Spymaster for nothing.

“Where is this coming from, love?”

“I don’t know, Azriel. I’ve just been struggling so much these past few months. Freya, she made these new friends that we’ve been hanging out with. And she told them about us, our relationship, and the things they said have been getting to my head. They found it very hard to imagine that you would date someone like me. They always commented how you could always find someone richer or belonging to a more royal family. And one of them… one of them even said that because you go to all these different courts, you probably have loads of affairs. And you… You were gone for so long, and I know it was for work, I understand that completely, I knew that when we got together. But they wouldn’t stop saying it. So when Elain showed up to my shop… everything she said and then what I saw at the café, it was like vindication for my fears. Like you had proven them right. I got so caught up in their hate- that I lost track of us in between.”

You again started crying at the end of the rant, it providing a much needed catharsis. Azriel was…speechless. He knew first hand how painful such insecurities were and to imagine that yours had dug so deep that you doubted their relationship… That you doubted yourself, made him want to stab his own heart out. Taking you into his arms, he whispered,

“My love, your are not wrong for having fears or insecurities. Everyone has them. You should have told me about them. That was your one mistake, you should have let me help you.”

Turning to look at him, you gazed into his eyes as if searching them for some way out of this mess.

“How do we move past this, Azriel?” You asked sadly.

“Well, we start by forgiving each other. And by promising that we never let a third get in between us again; whether that’s Freya, Elain, my brothers, anyone. Never again, nightingale. Whatever issues we have, whatever fears, we solve them together. Can you promise that?”

“Yes, my love, I promise,” you answered with a smile.

“So we’re together again?” he asked with a smirk and you answered by throwing yourself into his arms. And as he held you in his arms, Azriel swore it was then that he took his first breath in weeks. He knew this was far from over. He knew it would take time to rebuild their relationship and their trust in each other to way it was, knew it would take time to fight away your insecurities along side his own. But in this moment, he only shuffled closer to you, inhaling your scent to give solace to his weary heart.

Pulling away, he wiped the tears from your face and asked with a smirk,

“Well, it is way past the date, but would you be interested in a belated, anniversary breakfast my lady?”

In answer you only let out a laugh of your own, the sound more melodious to Azriel than the sweetest opera, and you took his hand in your own as the two of you began to walk towards your favorite café, where all this heartbreak had started.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the same café, hearts beating as one, to a new start.

Taglist: @i-am-infinite, @going-through-shit @cleverzonkwombatsludge @minnieoo @rcarbo1 @tele86 @freyagallileaevans @paleidiot @mariahoedt @ratgirl2020 @starryhiraeth @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @topaz125 @theravenphoenix26 @circe143

[andivmg]

Please excuse my initial reaction, I was quite distraught after reading his statement. Now that i’ve slept on the situation and have a more clear head i can say that i whole heartedly do not accept his apology for a few reasons:

1. One of us clearly remembers that night in excruciating detail. I will forever wonder what actually happened that night and that is something that weighs heavily on me. Although the next day i “accepted” that he would never hurt me, I no longer feel that way. It was a very fresh wound and I wanted to believe him because I still loved him. However, after two years of sitting on this and reflecting I take that back. And I felt like he was excusing his behavior by saying he didn’t realize how drunk I was. Also the fact that he shared it in such detail made me extremely uncomfortable. I respected him enough to not share such intimate details and he did not have the same respect for me. I think he could’ve just said “she initiated intimacy in the way she normally did” and it would’ve gotten his point across just as well. Regardless, he still had sex with me when i was blacked out while he was in a conscious enough state to assess and remember the encounter in such vivid detail. That fact has not changed.

2. All the stuff about his friends is frankly of no consequence to me. Everything that happened with Friend A happened while we were broken up. And him bringing up Friend B felt unnecessary given the fact that we all discussed the matter with each other at the time it happened. I never cheated on him and i would like to stop that theory in its tracks. Him and I have spoken about this matter privately on numerous occasions so that is all I will say.

3. About the shower thing, I was coming out of the shower/bathroom. He had the discord call on speaker on his phone. So yes, I heard very clearly what George said and Luke simply ended the call, he did not call him out. I believe he is recalling a different instance where another one of his friends said that he wanted to have sex with me once i moved to Florida. I was not witness to it and he did tell me he stood up for me that time which is why I didn’t bring it up. I did not go into more detail about it because I was just using that one quote as an example of how some of his friends would speak about me in his presence. However this is already more than one instance of his friends speaking about me in that way, which leads me to believe it happened quite often when I was not around.

4. Intentionally or not, I felt he demonized BPD and used that as a way to invalidate a lot of what I said

5. He still called me a slur when he knew it was wrong because I was getting cancelled for it at the time. I do not believe he was actually confused as to the gravity of what he said to me

I would like to remind you that i know him personally. I lived through that. When I say we remember things differently I mean it. I think that he believes he is being truthful. However because I know him and I know what I experienced, I do not trust him. I do not believe that we were “equally” toxic. While I admit I made a lot of mistakes in the relationship, to me they do not justify all I endured. I repeat, you can believe what you want. This is a very nuanced situation but if you were looking to me to accept his apology, I do not.

[sakashq]

Not You Too. / Pedri Gonzalez x fem!reader

🪬 summary. you were already cheated on by an ex, so pedri promises to never do the same to you. what happens when he breaks his promise?

🪬 warnings. cheating &&. gaslighting 🤦🏾‍♀️

🪬 yap! i hate my ex so here’s this, sorry pedri lovers (bells) 🫶🏾 to @ar4ujos , @planetpedri , @hrts4havertz , &&. @halfwayhearted.

♡︎ - 346,028 likes ✎ - 103,028 comments

wagcentral: word on the streets saying this is Pedri… yourusername stand up 🤦‍♀️

user082 oh ffs pedri.

user012 fumbled a baddie 🫤

↳ user032 frr

user067 i can’t even imagine what she’s feeling rn.

user079 this is fucked up pedri wtfff

user101 she needs to LEAVE HIM.

user092 nonono my parentsss ☹️☹️

↳ user002 user092 bye they are grown and do not know you!!

↳ user043 user092 hey so actually he cheated on her! do you really want that as your dad?

Transcript of Y/n L/n and pedri💞’s phone call.

pedri💞: Hello?

Y/n L/n: What the fuck, Pedri?

pedri💞: Calm down, baby, what’s going on?

Y/n L/n: ‘Calm down’? ‘Baby’?! You fucking cheated on me, that’s what’s going on. [her voice begins to crack] Not you too.

pedri💞: What… What are you talking about? Y/n, I’m on my way to your house now.

Y/n L/n: [sniffs] To collect your shit I hope.

pedri💞: Don’t say that. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What do you mean I cheated on you?

Y/n L/n: The pictures are out, Pedri.

pedri💞: What pictures?

End of call.

6 missed calls from pedri💞.

5 missed texts from pedri💞:

- I just saw the pictures. those arent recent

- I promise you it’s not

- I’d never cheat on you Y/n

- I love you so much

- Please don’t do this

Rain poured, mocking the tears from your eyes. You could see him outside through your window, drenched in the rain.

“Y/n, answer the door please.” You could hear Pedri outside consistently pounding on the door. He wasn’t gonna leave you alone; you knew you were gonna have to answer one way or another.

With mascara running down your face, you walked over to the door, in no hurry to talk to him at all. You reluctantly opened the door, being greeted by a pleading Pedri.

“Y/n…” He sighed, his face softening. “Please don’t cry.” He said as he went to wipe your tears away. You dodged him, not wanting to feel that spark from his touch. You couldn’t bare it anymore.

“You’re a piece of shit,” you spat out at him, showing him the photos and the screenshots you had been sent. “You’re a piece of fucking shit.”

“Let’s talk about it then, Y/n,” Pedri replied, downplaying your anger. He didn’t seem as upset as he should’ve been.

Tears continuing to pour just like the rain, you said, “You lie to my face about where you’re going and who you’re with then expect me not to find out? How the fuck can you tell someone you love them and then cheat on them?”

“Y/n, it wasn’t even like that. Those photos and screenshots are all from before you. That girl’s engaged now,” Pedri told you. You could see in his eyes and expression that he was genuinely sorry, no matter how nonchalant he tried acting about the situation.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me then? If it was before me why hide it?” You didn’t even know what you were saying at this point— you just knew you were mad.

Pedri answered with desperation in his tone, “I have nothing to hide, Y/n, I thought you knew.” Tears were slowly rolling down his cheeks, only making you more upset. You hated seeing him like this and you hated even more that you couldn’t comfort him.

“Then let me see your phone. Since there’s nothing to hide.” You crossed your arms, giving him a serious expression.

His eyes widened and he began to look around for an excuse. He managed to get out, “I… It’s— I left it in thr car.”

“Bullshit, I see the fucking print in your pocket. Bye, Pedri.” You scoffed with an eye roll, beginning to shut the door on him.

He held it open and started to plead. “Please, Y/n. I wouldn’t do that to you and you know it. I love you, Y/n.”

“Save it, Pedri. Don’t waste your time.”

[pruneunfair]

Tropes in manhwa are awful yet people still defend them

I'm in a bad mood right now so what better way to release all that pent up anger by ranting on what can ruin a good story.

1: Slavery being inserted only for cheap plot and slaves being demonized as obsessive/greedy monsters for "not knowing their place"

Theres nothing wrong with wanting to insert slavery in your story AS LONG as it's not just cheap plot to make your MC look "better" by buying from a single to all of the slaves because let me tell you this: there is no such thing as a good slave owner, you cannot morally own another human being. A lot of manhwa like to have slavery be a part of their plot completely ignoring that just because the MC goes "wow this is terrible" doesn't make them a good person after they buy a slave.

Remarried empress does this with its villian Rashta by pushing the notion that she's being greedy for not wanting to stay in poverty so Navier won't suffer because apparently a slave wanting what the silver spoon mouthed nobles were born into is so terrible not to mention they justify slave owners and slavery in general as a punishment for criminals (neglecting the fact that children can be sold by their parents)

The villainess has fun again justifies a child slave being bought by the lead and he becomes an obsessive shouta love interest, fans continously justify by using the ancient lolicon excuse "he may look young but he's actually 99182823 years old!"

In divorcing my tyrant husband, Robelia buys 30 slaves and the only 2 that consistently show up have no other personality other then "we love you FL we will worship you till the end of time!"

There's a damn manhwa out there literally called the order of slave breeding and even when a story tries to do this correctly such as VADTD with Penelope being portrayed as a bad person for what she did to Eckles, fans have been so deluded by the idea that FL's buying slaves is "girlboss" that they think Eckles should be grateful to be Penelopes "pet"

2: ML's murdering innocent people after one guy hurts the FL

I already made a specific post about it before and I'll say it again: all this does is make your male lead/father figure look like a horrific monster. While you could say it's because its a medieval kingdom (objectively that is true that they would do this) manhwa and OI is the same place where despite in those times taking a mistress was considered normal they still view it as cheating and "how could you pick that slut when you have such a perfect wife!? 🤬" in most stories. So yes, modern morality is still inserted within these tropes. While I can get it's a way to show that the man in questions loves the FL so much he's willing to go to such lengths to protect her I think just mutilating the guy that actually did the sin would be enough because try imagining yourself as a faithful servant who was amazing at your job getting brutally slaughtered by the Emperor because your boss attacked his daughter or lover.

Into the light once again does this with Aishas dad murdering all the relatives and close friends of a count that tried to kill Ysis and Aisha, Aisha doesn't seem to care despite being in a situation where she was wrongfully executed in her past life.

Remarried empress does this too. After Navier is nearly killed by Krista's brother, Heinrey tortures and kills the dad and slaughters the servants of the zemensias. I can't remember if he also murdered the remaining family members but I wouldn't put it past him.

3: protagonist centered morality

Protagonist centered morality is the biggest indicator that a piece of media is dealing with a mary sue FL. Whatever the protagonist says is right is immediately morally correct. This is actually used to justify the last 2 examples with "it was for the FL!" Things like slavery, murder, workplace abuse, union busting, pedophilia, and being a POS to your loved ones are all justified if the protagonist finds a cheap way to justify it and you HAVE to agree with her because her backstory is very tragic 🥺. Protagonist centered morality also ruins the chance for good characters since the FL herself never has to grow as a person so she stays the same exact thing as she was just with more enablers and random characters will be treated as villains even if they aren't actually wrong about being suspicious of the Protagonist or calling out her behavior. It twists the narrative in such incomprehensible ways that you don't even know what your reading anymore. I can't even list all of the manhwas that do this given how many there actually are so I'll just list some that are at least self aware there Protagonist is awful/morally grey or isn't even a bad person but they still have flaws that can be pointed out

Villains are destined to die

My in laws are obsessed with me

Not sew wicked step mom

Depths of malice

The villainess turns the hourglass

Beware of the villainess.

4: villains being dumbed down to make the lead look smarter

This is unfortunately another common staple often used as a quick way to make the FL look smart and witty but is that really hard to look smarter when everyone else around you is an idiot? Not only does the FL not have to put in actual effort to best her enemies but you just start to pity the villain for basically being a punching bag. Dimwitted villains aren't always bad in fact they can be some of those most entertaining characters no matter much they lose but that only works when they are meant to be seen as a goofy character that your not supposed to take seriously. Villains that are written as extremely childish and stupid but your still supposed to treat them as serious antagonists on the other hand are just annoying since you wonder how the protagonist even got killed by them in the first life if they're so stupid.

Isabella de Mare while admitly having a good reason for being dumbed down (she's a teenager in the 2nd life so it's reasonable she wouldnt be as smart as her adult counterpart) is still a joke of a villainess who keeps flipping back and fourth from a snot nosed whiny brat to a mastermind only at convenient opportunities when the plot needs conflict.

Mielle from the villainess turns the hourglass was first portrayed as extremely conniving as she arranged for Arias downfall in the shadows but in the second life she fails at every scheme she has even though she has Emma and Isis to help her out.

Ragibach is a literal demon possessing the body of another woman with the goal of setting demons loose on the word to start another human vs demon war and she succeeded in that the first time, the devastation was all there so clearly she has to be a formidable antagonist right? Well no, she's another case of being dumbed down further and further so Keira can succeed and while they do understand some plot holes such as Ludwig not trusting her as much in the second life it doesn't change the drastic character change from evil genius to bumbling idiot.

In short: dumbing down your villains so your lead can look smarter is essentially going to give the equivalent of a hydrogen bomb vs a coughing baby.

5: feminine women being demonized as basic "other girls" sluts

Okay this one isn't nearly as terrible as the others on this list because we all love the good old "a demon makes itself look beautiful to deceive humans" kind of villain, in fact as you probably know by me by now, white lotuses are my favorite kinds of character and even in media outside of manhwa I always find myself drawn to angelic villains but it seems like this is less of that and more of "Oh those are all the other girls who just want a man to save them, look at how much better my badass rich boss babe is for working for herself while taking all of their men at the time 😎" in manhwa. As soon as a traditionally feminine girl shows up, comments are already calling her a two faced bitch and half the time protagonist is already skeptical of her. This is the opposite of what being a feminist really is, a real feminist wouldn't be putting down other women just because they dress with more pink with bows and skirts and while I do think for most manhwa this is unintentional I do wish that we could have more characters like Psyche, Helena, Athy, and Jennette that prove that being overly feminine doesn't make you a backpedal on feminism. This doesn't make the badass or sexy fl's bad either, it just means they can co-exist.

An angelic villain should be treated as evil for being a well calculated schemer, not because they have a light colored color scheme

6: toxic relationships being romanticized as good

You know for a large community that claims to be about girl code a good chunk sure likes to look the other way when it comes to toxic relationships as long as the abuser is "hot" and theres always the terrible excuse such as "he has trauma!" Or "he doesn't know how to show his love normally!" No just no we aren't doing that here. Cry or better yet beg has this problem with not only the narrative claiming that Matthias graping Layla is okay because she actually loves him and doesn't know it but a large part of the fanbase also defends it, the same goes with try begging, a manhwa written by Solche who also wrote cry or better yet beg and once again despite Leon being an abuser everyone's ready to justify his actions because he's just a soft little boy who ends up falling in love with Grace awww 😍 (what the hell?) Everyones all about not justifying abusers because they had a sad past until it's the "sexy" male leads with daddy issues.

7: maid slapping

This shit isn't asserting your dominance as a boss bitch it's just work place abuse. This trope has gotten so out of hand of being justified by narratives and readers that there is an entire webtoon called this isekai maid is forming a union that's all about criticizing twisted manhwa tropes that get brushed off with maid absuer being at the biggest one. It's funny because a lot of people complain that Isekai maid union villainizes the nobles too much but they never ask the same questions when a OI is demonizing maids as greedy and lazy in order to deserve a beating. This doesn't just stop at hands either it can escalate to threats of mutilation just to assert dominice which is absolutely sick. Most of the time these leads used to be office workers or terminally ill patients, they know how terrible it is to be treated like garbage by their superiors yet they continue to absue every maid who isn't getting on their knees for them. Most maids in real history would not mistreat a noble even if they were the most hated in the house and even if they did they'd be fired without a letter of recommendation so why can't the FL's just fire the rude maid if they care about dignity so much because I'm pretty sure getting violent with a maid isn't very dignified either.

8: disgusting age gaps

Very similar to #6 but in this case while the ML/FL isn't a cruel monster to their partner it doesn't change the fact that grooming and pedophilia is still a crime worthy of life in prison. You'd think "oh no way, this can't be justified can it?" You'd be wrong. Now I belong to house of Castillo thankfully has a larger fanbase of people who think that a relationship between a girl who got groomed by her knight is bad but in cases like into the light once again a lot of people like to say "Well Aisha is technically 28 so it's fine!" When it really isn't since Aisha is still mentally 14. Taming my ex husbands mad dog is another one that does this with Reinhardt grooming a 16 year old boy and its apparently meant to be "cute".

9: claiming a character as unattractive yet giving them a perfect body and appreance

I just think this is a major cop-out since there's time where they want to make a realistic story yet also wanting a fantasy fufilment. I don't think its a coincidence that the only woman in tears of a withered flower that yout supposed to support is a Victoria's secret model body type. Even though she's meant to be an overworked exhausted 33 year old woman being mocked for losing her beauty she sure as hell isn't drawn that way, the only other women around hae soo are all women with smaller boob's and in general more common body types that are either classed as stupid or jealous that Hae soo is so beautiful that all the attractive men want her

how about we don't pit all the women against each other for once? And let's especially not villainize other women because their jealous they could never be have large boob's and tiny arms+waist at the same time?

10: the commoner protagonist actually being a noble rich person all along

Look I know most of us had loved those "the hated child is the lost princess" GLMM but we need to drop it because it's kinda disappointing that the nobody who had to work their way to the top is actually a secret magical princess who had royal blood in them all along. While I did think the villainess turns the hourglass was a pretty decent read I was super disappointed finding out that Aria was of noble descent all along. I liked seeing a commoner protagonist for once and it really felt like it was critiquing the idea that all commoners and poor people who want nice things like the nobility are greedy animals. Something similar can also happen with certain saintess manhwas that decide to twist itself into "the villainess was the true saintess all along!" And I'm just sitting here thinking "well there goes the hope that you didn't need the super duper rare power to be a strong character"

I feel way better now after writing all this.

[sorcerersseestars]

synopsis: Gojo blames you for the first-years' disaster that the higher-ups caused.

pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn! reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff

warnings: mention of death/a corpse, yelling, heavy feelings of self-blame, stuttering (it makes sense here tho I promise), emotionally constipated Gojo, mention of not eating for an extended period of time/being hungry (due to the situation), manga spoilers!! (star plasma vessel arc), indirect confessions

word count: 5.2k

notes: There are some slightly non-canon details. I’m pretty sure that Nanami and Yuji don’t know each other at this point, but let’s pretend they do. Also, I’m insinuating a more seasoned bond between Gojo and Yuji/reader and Yuji - let’s also pretend that they’ve been teaching Yuji for longer at this point, for more angst potential. :) LAST THING - you used to be a very mediocre child/adolescent actor in a few small/bad films. Only relevant for one detail.

Also, Gojo may be a bit ooc here - possibly overdramatic in his wordings - but I really wanted to write a Gojo that loses control of his emotions, since I think it'd be difficult to elicit such a reaction from him. I hope it suits him okay!!

GOJO HAS ALWAYS had a soft spot for you. In high school, he would regularly volunteer himself to take your blame, even though you never asked him to do it and would practically begged him not to. But, he was frustratingly persistent and would do it despite your many protests. If you ever cheated on an assignment, Gojo would claim he copied yours. If you fumbled during a mission, Gojo would lie in the report. If you both snuck out and got caught, Gojo would say he dragged you out with force. Whenever you would have an argument with someone, Gojo would comfort you afterwards, insisting the other person was in the wrong even when they obviously weren’t.

Although he has eventually ramped down this ridiculous treatment over the years, you will never forget this boyish idiosyncrasy from your younger days.

Today, however, it’s like those days never even existed. You don't recognize the person standing in front of you. You can’t blame him for his reaction – it's wholly natural – but it still jars you.

Today, you fucked up. You fucked up so badly that there's a very permanent, unchangeable consequence to your actions – or rather, your lack thereof. The consequence of your stupidity, the result of your thoughtlessness, lies unmoving in this room. The body of Itadori Yuji, separated from reality only by the thin plastic covering of a body bag, rests on a table only feet from where you stand.

His mentor, one sworn to protecting his students, sworn to delaying his impending execution as much as possible, stands before you. His signature blindfold obscures his eyes, and you can only imagine the wild, swirling gaze you would be faced with in its absence.

Yuji’s mentor – your long time close friend, who has never blamed you in any great capacity for anything through the entirety of your friendship – now looks at you scathingly.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He spits, tone icy.

He's not looking at you as he rigidly hovers over the operating table, but you can feel the intensity of his emotions despite the distance. Words fall out of your brain, and you struggle to string together a cohesive thought.

“I-" You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “The higher-ups told me not to go with them, I don’t know wh–"

He barks out a harsh laugh, cutting off your pathetic excuse. His head is in his hands, fingers roughly carding through his disheveled hair. He pauses in his ministrations to face you: he is suddenly towering over you, broad frame filling even the corners of your vision.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He growls. “Did you stop to think for even a second? Why would they ever ask a teacher to stay behind?”

Tears begin to slide down you cheeks. You quickly wipe them away and will your building urge to break down to go away.

He sighs, his breath leaving him loudly and aggressively. “I don’t understand how this happened. You know how this works, (Y/N)! You know how the higher-ups are!”

“I’m sorry,” You choke out quietly, voice stretched and thin. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring him back, (Y/N)!” Gojo shouts.

Shoko and Ijichi are silent. Shoko is looking at the ground, her stony expression difficult to determine. Shoko, your friend who always sticks up for you no matter what, especially when dealing with Gojo. Shoko, who hasn’t spoken a single word to you since you arrived. For once, she agrees with him.

Your eyes land on the black body bag laying on the operating table, and you can’t hold it back any longer. Your legs weaken underneath you and you begin to shake. The sobs you’ve been suppressing rip out of your throat. Ugly, choking sobs.

Nobody moves to comfort you. If anything, Gojo’s scowl deepens, and Shoko turns away at your display of emotion.

“I know,” You sob. “I know it doesn’t. I know it's my fault.”

You take a few shaky breaths. “I didn’t know- I didn’t mean for it to happen- I- it’s my fault.”

He slides his blindfold down, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. You are about to blurt something else out, but before the words can leave your tongue, you catch his gaze and you’re immediately frozen. His boiling blue irises steal your breath and leave you rooted to the spot. Never in your life have you seen him this angry or even display this much emotion.

“If you keep standing there and crying, I think I’m going to kill something,” He says lowly.

“Gojo,” Shoko interjects in a warning tone.

Gojo bites back, “Why not? We all want the higher-ups gone. It’d be so easy. Shit like this wouldn’t happen anymore.”

Ijichi pales. Shoko roughly says, “Are you crazy?”

He doesn’t answer, and the determined look on his face isn’t necessarily comforting. It seems a storm is brewing – the most powerful sorcerer is being driven to a point.

You’re reaching a point, too – your breaking point. You feel like you can’t breathe. When you inhale, your lungs refuse to inflate past the shallowest of breaths. It’s all hitting you now, clear thoughts rising past the fog of adrenaline that overwhelmed your mind. The reality is that you fucked up, and it’s not fixable.

You fucked up, and there’s no going back in time to change your decision, to go against orders to stay with your students. There’s no way to bring Yuji back.

“Why are you still here?” Gojo says with an exasperated huff, addressing you directly. “Seeing you only adds to my anger.”

You say nothing, your mind occupied only with your regrets. He frowns and tries again.

"Unless you want to dive further into this preventable death," He says coldly. "Leave. There's still a job to be done.”

You barely hear his words. Your brain doesn’t have the energy to collect them, to interpret them, as it hyper-fixates on the horrible hole forming in your heart. Your eyes are wide, pupils enlarged, and you are visibly quivering.

“Didn’t you hear me? You need to leave!” Gojo growls, frustrated at your lack of reaction, believing it to be indifference.

“They must be in shock, Gojo,” Shoko murmurs. “They’re shutting down.”

Shoko’s diagnosis is indeed correct. You don’t hear a single word that comes out of their mouths; your shoulders and heart have grown heavy, leaden, from knowing the fate you led your students to. One deceased, two severely injured. All because of a risk you did not take, an order you did not disobey.

Yuji’s bright smile burns into the back of your eyes, a reminder of what you’ve lost, of the ultimate mistake.

One second, your eyes are on the black body bag, and the next second you can’t see anything, your vision blurred by tears and by speed. You’re running, you realize, legs pumping as fast as they can. Your lungs ache and your legs cramp up, but you can’t will yourself to stop. You can’t think. You can’t catch your breath.

When you inevitably collapse, you don’t know where you are or how much time has passed. It’s just a patch of grass damp with dew, a few maple trees dotting the banks of a small neighboring stream. You’re laying under one of these trees, your arms outstretched so your fingers can comb through the cool, wet blades of grass. You’re vaguely aware the the sun set at some point after you left. Maybe it’s been a hour, or a few more. You have no idea.

You want to scream, you want to cry, but you don’t. You can’t; it won’t come. When his grinning face and determined smile taunt you, reminding you of your sins, you can only screw your eyes shut, willing the torture to end.

Wetness finally runs down your face, and you taste salt. It is oddly comforting. Your hands repeatedly grab the gentle grass, numbing your mind until exhaustion eventually overtakes you.

There’s a buzzing filling your brain. You groan and roll over, reaching out to your bedside table to grab the offending object. You startle at the feeling of sharp gravel under your fingertips – it’s unpleasantly damp, as well, leaving muddy residue on your hands.

The buzzing starts again, and this time you clearly feel the vibrations through your leg. You sit up, scooting back until your back firmly hits the tree trunk behind you, and force your tired eyelids to part. You have to squint, as the sun has already risen and has crossed the sky a fair amount – it must be approaching noon already.

When the buzzing persists, you grumpily rip the phone out of your pocket. It’s not an alarm, as you had expected. In fact, you startle at the caller ID: Gojo Satoru.

You stare at your phone blankly, your brain buffering. You ultimately let it ring out, although your finger hovers over the answer button. Once the screen fades to your usual background, your throat goes dry. Missed calls from Shoko, Nanami, and Gojo fill your screen. You quickly skim the accompanying texts and wince.

Shoko <3: I know we’re all upset, but we shouldn’t have taken it out on you…just let me know you’re alright, okay? (10:43 pm)

‘Nanamin’: I heard what happened. It isn’t your fault, (Y/N), no matter what anyone says. Call me if you need anything. (6:26 am)

Satoru: Where are you? (11:34 pm)

Satoru: Pick up (11:59 pm)

Satoru: please (12:03 am)

Satoru: I fucked up. I need to talk to you, please let me (12:05 am)

Satoru: I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but let someone, anyone, know you’re alright… (7:12 am)

Satoru: Megumi just told me he tried to visit you but you still weren’t home. (Y/N), please…say anything…I need to know that you’re okay (11:17 am)

It all rushes back to you: your lethal mistake, the deserved reaction you received from your two best friends, how you shamefully ran away. Fuck. There’s no way you can face any of them, especially not Megumi.

You wish this never happened. Hot tears burn your cheeks again; your eyes flood with regret. Shame quickly floods through you, making you feel hot all over. How can you feel sorry for yourself when it was your fault in the first place?

You roughly wipe your face with your sleeve and stick your phone back into your pocket. There’s no way you can respond right now. It’s bound to die soon, anyway, so there’s no point in trying.

You don’t want to move from where you sit. You want to sink into the ground and stay there until the horrible feeling inside you goes away. But…

“What if it doesn’t?” You whisper those words out into the universe, a sinking feeling in your gut telling you the answer.

You want to cry more, allow yourself to shed more tears, but you don’t. You wobbly stand up, and are surprised at how weak you are. When was the last time you ate – yesterday morning, before the disastrous mission?

You have to go home. You can’t stay here, in the middle of nowhere, neglecting yourself. It’s a thought that rings in your head and won’t leave you alone until you decide to listen. Okay. You will go home. You can manage that.

It takes a while, but you find your way back to your apartment. Last night, you had apparently meandered into an expanse of empty land neighboring the school, as you pass by Jujutsu Tech on your way back. It is a bit off the beaten path – you doubt anyone has ever intentionally gone where you ended up last night.

During your journey home, you have to reference your Google Maps app a few times, but you somehow successfully get back home, despite your directional challenges and weakened state.

Until you step into your apartment, you don’t realize how cold you are. Your feet are numb from being cold and wet, your toes icy when you peel the damp socks off. You cringe at how unaware you have been at your body for the past 24 hours: your mental state ignored all physical needs.

Your stumble to your bedroom, aching body screaming for a rest. You relent easily, collapsing on your bed face first. You’re so grimy and covered in remnants of the dirt bed you laid in last night, evidence of your outside stay covering your clothing. Bits of twigs and leaves invite themselves into your sheets – you couldn’t care less right now, though. You don’t even think about it.

On instinct, you plug your dead phone in without even looking. There’s silence for a minute or two before it whirs back to life, the screen flashing at your tired eyes.

There’s another message waiting to be opened.

Megumi: Come back soon, sensei. He’s getting unsufferable

Megumi:…more than usual

A hoarse chuckle leaves your throat, the first laugh that’s left you since the whole incident. You sigh immediately after though, as you begin to wonder how Megumi has been dealing with everything. If you hadn’t run away, then…

Your head is in your hands again. No matter what path your thinking strays down, you keep returning to your immense guilt over what happened.

You wish you were mad at someone. You wish that you felt angry at Gojo, but you aren’t – you can’t be. In your eyes, he wasn’t wrong; how could you be mad at him when you agree?

You’re not mad, but there’s this other unpleasant feeling. It feels like one of Nobara’s nails has been lodged in your chest, and every time you think about his reaction, the nail twists a little deeper into your heart. He’s never yelled at you before. That hurt.

It’s understandable, but it still hurts.

Gojo…You don’t think you can face him yet, but he may come to you if your radio silence continues. Maybe you should just get it over with and call him. You can just tell him you’re alive and hang up. That should suffice.

Without thinking further on it, you grab your phone and dial his number. Within two rings, the line connects.

“Yo, (Y/N)! Long time no hear!” His chirpy voice booms through your speakers. He’s back to his usual self – overly casual and full of mirth. He sounds way too cheerful; it throws you off guard.

A sharp inhale leaves you as you’re about to tell him that you’re fine and to not worry, so that you can hang up and avoid him. But, nothing comes out. Everything you thought of saying flies out of your brain. You’re left wordless, mouth hanging open.

“You there? (Y/N)?”

You shake your head, coming to your senses.

“Yes,” The single word that leaves you is weak and breathy.

“You good? Are you home now?”

“Yeah. Home now. I’m alive, so no need to bother checking in on me,” You say thoughtlessly.

God, that was lame. You can’t help but cringe at what you just said. It’s what you intended to convey, yes, but that’s not how you wanted to say it.

“Just alive? Sounds real peppy over there!” He chuckles. “I was going to come over anyway, but you’ve really pushed it over the edge.”

“Ah,” You say somewhat panicked, searching for a way out of this. “There’s really no need. I just need rest so there’s no need. I’ll see you later, then.”

“You mean soon!” He chirps before you can hang up. You groan into your pillow; this is exactly what you had been trying to avoid. How are you even going to look at him?

You’ve just put your phone back on your nightstand when there’s sudden footsteps approaching your bedroom. Before you can think further, the door is flung upon and a familiar figure appears before you.

“Ultimate best friend Gojo Satoru has arrived! Everyone applaud!”

A series of small claps ensues, while you just stare on in silence and disgruntlement. A wide smile stretches across his face at your displeased expression.

“C’mon angel, not even a single clap? That’s cold.”

You roll your eyes, but only half-heartedly. The gesture is so pathetically slight that Gojo’s smile falls a fraction. You don’t have much emotional energy to expend on humoring him, it seems. Because of him.

It’s then that he fully takes in your appearance. Tear stained cheeks, dirt caking your clothes and body, scraps of organic material matted in your hair and clinging to all parts of you. There’s even smudges of dirt around your eyes where you’ve attempted to wipe away tears.

He questions your appearance, trying to appear lighthearted, “Was the forest calling you? You really didn’t sleep here?”

You immediately feel self-conscious of your appearance and cross your arms. You manage out a quiet, “Something like that.”

“No, seriously…where did you sleep?” He probes, this time lacking the lightheaded tone.

A weak, sheepish smile appears on your lips, “Ah…the ground? You were right, I guess.”

He blinks. You rub the back of your head and avoid eye contact, softly laughing an awkward little chuckle.

“Seriously?” He asks, but it lacks any judgment. He is truly just in disbelief.

You just nod.

“Hey, are you…are you sure you’re okay?”

You weren’t expecting that. You wish he would stay in his childish mindset – these real questions are worse.

You breathe out slowly, “I mean…yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s not a very convincing delivery, but it was the best you could manage. The corners of his lips turn down slightly, almost unnoticeably, but he doesn’t comment on your answer. He knows he should question you further, dig a little deeper, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he excuses himself, “I’ll be right back. Just stay put! I’ll know if you move, so you better not move an inch.”

He raises two fingers to his eyes, then directs them to you, clearly saying ‘I have my eyes on you!’

It’s amusing - he’s always amusing - but when you try to smile, your lips just flatline. You can’t tell if he notices, since he has already turned away and walked into the bathroom, but you hope he couldn’t tell.

When he returns, he’s holding a dampened washcloth.

“Bath time!” He says, shaking the cloth excitedly in front of you. You flinch a little as a few stray drops of water unexpectedly land on you, which he lightly laughs at.

And then he begins swiping away the dirt that has accumulated on your body. He starts with your face. He’s on his knees, one elbow resting on the space neighboring your right thigh, leaning in to have more control with the cloth. You close your eyes when his face comes within inches of yours - too close. Even when you feel as horrible as you do now, your heart won’t stop thumping quickly against your ribs, as if it cannot deny those deeply hidden feelings you harbor.

He hums while he works, gently dabbing all the places where you have visible dirt. It’s comforting, or at least it should be. You heart begins to clench tightly, and you so badly want a hole to appear in the ground to swallow you up.

“Gojo, why are you being so nice now?” You ask, voice small. “I don’t really deserve it. I’d…prefer the alternative. This feels wrong right now.”

He sets down the cloth, wincing at your pitiful words. Is that how you really feel?

He pauses. He’s not good at this sort of thing – acknowledging other people’s vulnerability, lowering his own walls to empathize with others, any of it. He hates it. He hates how emotionally he acted yesterday, he hates how it has affected you.

“No,” He sighs. He speaks slowly as he carefully chooses his words, “I…shouldn’t have acted like that yesterday. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Your bottom lip trembles, but you force yourself not to cry, “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for it. Everyone was thinking it.”

He tries to catch your eye, but your gaze is downcast. He ducks, lowering himself to the ground even more, to enter your field of vision.

“Hey,” He says softly. “Do you trust me?”

Your brow furrows; you don’t understand why he’s asking you that. You feel yourself nodding, though.

“Everything I said yesterday,” He starts, but then shakes his head at himself. “No, everything I yelled at you yesterday – it was misdirected. What happened wasn’t your fault. There was no way of knowing what was about to happen.”

“But now, it’s obvious,” You mumble. “I should have known.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. You were following orders. The ones assigning the orders are at fault, not you.”

You grab your sheets with tight fists. You turn your head to the side, away from his invisible gaze, “Orders that were obviously suspect. It’s still my fault as an experienced sorcerer.”

Gojo’s chest constricts. You sound exactly like he did yesterday; the consequences of his actions echo back to him from your mouth.

“I promise it’s not,” He insists, but it falls on deaf ears. “I’ve made mistakes too. I’ve made mistakes, but you never treated me like I treated you yesterday.”

Gojo clenches his teeth. This is hard. He hates bringing up this side of the past, but he’ll do it for you.

“You never judged me for what happened during the Star Plasma Vessel mission. Even though you wanted to leave that night, and I ignored you, you never blamed me.”

“You were seventeen,” You say quietly, shakily. “We were all kids. That was over a decade ago.”

“But you knew how to make it better,” He says breathlessly. “And you never even once insinuated that it was my fault.”

You smile sadly at him, and your next words are sure and immediate, “Because it wasn’t.”

Gojo’s mouth hangs open for a second, still amazed at the understanding and kindness that so easily shine through you even in the darkest moments.

He reaches out for your hands, unsure, and squeezes them when he finds them. “Can I…can I start over ? From yesterday?”

You blink blankly, not completely understanding, but give a hesitant nod anyway.

He exhales deeply and lowers his head to your hands until his forehead brushes your fingertips. It’s completely unexpected, and you freeze upon contact. His head is bowed to you – embarrassment and confusion flood you.

You are relieved when he raises his head to speak.

“What happened with our students isn’t your fault,” He says quietly but with conviction. “It’s the work of the higher ups - it’s their fault, nobody else’s. I’m…”

He pauses. Words he never says need to come out.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this happened while you were here and I was away, I’m sorry that I blamed you for things out of your control. This was never your fault.”

You are silent. You say nothing. You don’t move. Your expression stays blank.

He panics. He takes your silence as a sign of not being forgiven – which is not what he fears, in fact he doesn’t want to be forgiven. But he doesn’t want to lose you, and that’s exactly what he thinks has happened. Did he completely sever the bond spanning more than a decade?

“I understand if you can’t forgive me, but,” He swallows thickly, the anxious feeling rising. “But I hope this doesn’t…”

He tries again, “I hope our friendship…I hope you- I don’t want to lose you after all we-”

“Satoru – it’s not that,” You say quickly. “You haven’t, I promise. I have already forgiven you. I forgave you from the moment it started.”

You close your eyes, clenching them shut. You don’t want to cry again. “It’s just that…even if I’m not directly at fault, Yuji is still dead. Our student is dead. Despite anything that can be said of the situation, that fact will not change.”

He really shouldn’t tell you this. He needs to, but he shouldn’t.

“Do you trust me?” He says again, voice only a whisper. He’s even closer now, only inches away. A hand raises to ease his blindfold down so that it rests loosely around his neck.

Your eyes on his are so clear, and reveal so much – surprised by his bare gaze, confusion clear in your beautiful eyes he finally can see so clearly up close.

“Of course,” You whisper breathlessly. “Always have.”

“Close your eyes, and hold on,” He says. “Don’t want you getting lost again, angel.”

You know what that means. Teleportation. But where could he be taking you that is so important right now? Maybe somewhere he knows you like to calm you down?

You’re taken aback by the rush of air around you even though you’ve traveled like this many times.

The few uncomfortable moments in the strange vortex allow you to question where be could be possibly be taking you. Before you can decide on an answer, however, the roar in your ears subsides, and you are steadied by his grip around your shoulders. He's so close again, wisps of his soft hair tickling your neck. One of his large hands drops down to clutch yours. You’re ashamed about now nice it all feels in such a situation.

Then all that slips away and you're immediately on guard - there's another cursed presence nearby.

“Gojo-sensei, you’re back? That movie was kind of weird and bad, but I swear that one character was (L/N)-sensei. Do they have a twin or something?”

Your eyes pop open. Your hand falls out of Gojo’s as your grip completely goes slack. That voice…Youthful, full of energy and a kind innocence. It could only be...

Gojo responds ecstatically, dramatically, “Ah, but of course not! I have brought an honored guest! An old time Hollywood star whose home was the red carpet! The famed, the budding talent, (Y/N)-”

He’s cut off by a shriek. He blinks twice, and you’re already far from his side, rushing to the secret he has to keep - the secret he couldn’t possibly keep from you.

You crash into Yuji, binding him in a crushing hug. He's open mouthed and spluttering in surprise, but you don't have it in you to be embarrassed right now. You have no idea how, but he is standing before you, living and breathing. As seemingly endless tears pour down your face, you miss now the confusion on his face morphs into a look of grim understanding. He doesn't know what you went through, but he can guess.

And then you're laughing. Crying and laughing. Heaving breaths to accommodate your almost hysterical laughter, standing back to wipe away your tears before hugging Yuji again.

The sight of you hugging your student so tightly, healing with just this action, coaxes a half smile out of Gojo. Only half because he is in danger of faltering himself, bottom lip wavering as a wave of emotion flows over him.

The abandoned blindfold is clenched tightly in his hand as he tries to hold back the emotions welling in his brilliant eyes. He almost wants to put it back on to hide the emotions underneath, but he can’t, not when the whole reason he took it off was to see this with his own eyes.

No words are exchanged for a long while. They don't need to be, and even Gojo can see that.

By the time he is taking you home, your dynamic has shifted back to something more normal. It's raining, but you insist on walking back, citing the fact that his teleportation makes you horribly dizzy. (Or maybe, just maybe, you want a little more time with him. But you'd never admit that to yourself.)

The constant overhead drizzle is a bit annoying, but is bearable despite Gojo's claims of it tainting his very existence. He’s clearly back to his overdramatics - it's comforting.

The streets are dark, with only muted warm yellow lights lining the sidewalks, creating only vague halos of light due to the misty air. Gojo walks close to your side, an arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders. At some point through your chatting, it slips down to your waist. You don't notice it right away, but once you do, all you can do is wonder if he's done that before - if it's normal for friends.

You notice something else strange. His blindfold is still loosely hanging from his body, his baby blues on display. It's hard to look at him like this - you feel too exposed - even though you desperately want to get lost in his eyes. Yes, your deep affection for him still rings true, even if he yelled at you, even if he did expose your horrible, cringey child acting.

“I can’t believe you put on that movie!” You exclaim, miming exasperation.

Gojo chuckles, “Scolding me again, that’s a good sign. Even if it’s for an illogical reason – c’mon, ‘Painters in Paris’ is a classic!”

You can’t hold back your wide, devious smile, “I guess you would think that since you literally look like a fucking paint brush!”

His jaw drops, and he looks at you faux-offended as you practically double over in laughter.

“Angel! No, I really should be calling you devil! You- get over here!”

Although you run from him, he quickly catches up to you and you’re in his grasp. He immediately overwhelms you with vicious tickles.

“Gojo!! Satoru, you– stop that!” You say between bouts of laughter. You’re off balance, and his relentless attack isn’t helping. “Hey, stop, I’m gonna–!”

You stumble and begin to topple to the cold cement, but you’re scooped up before you meet your demise.

A small gasp escapes you at your proximity, and at his eyes so clearly looking deeply into yours, yearning burning through them. He's never looked at you like this - has he?

“Woah! That was close, huh, angel?” He smiles, tone nonchalant and voice steady. He seems unaffected by your closeness, but his eyes tell a different story. You don't know what to trust - him or his eyes. But they say that the eyes are the windows into the soul – what answer does that leave you with?

And what answer do you have? Right now, with his strong arms around you, those beautiful eyes glittering as if they hold a sea of stars, that sweet smile that never fails to give you butterflies, those lips you can’t help but glance at for too long–

You know.

Without thinking, you give in to your instinct to keep leaning in, and your lips meet his. It's not a passionate crash, but more of a gentle whisper to the soul. A soft brush to his lips, all the sweetness he brings to you returned.

Then, you pull away slowly, almost in confusion. Did you just do that?

You’re horrified. What did you just do without a single thought behind your action?

A gentle chuckle brings you out of your momentary horror.

“So what, you’re a paint brush kisser now?” He chuckles softly, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip.

You take in his expression - flushed cheeks, a soft smile, eyes full of a softness you've never imagined they could have.

"Yes,” You agree, your mouth stretching widely from the excitement and happiness you can’t hold back, “ l proudly am.”

He pulls you closer and kisses you deeply, again and again and again until you're both out of breath. You both stay in that moment, feelings that lay hidden for years finally spilling out, until you're completely engulfed by the rain.

note part 2: I have a tendency to be over-detailed about boring/fluff details, so I tried to do that less here. First one shot in a while !! I hope the flow is still okay…I also couldn't decide how to do the ending, so l hope this works?

Also wow I can’t stop writing hurt/comfort and Gojo being an ass! I have another story drafted that’s also Gojo x reader and hurt/comfort as well…

Here’s a hint about that one: 🌸🩸

If you’re looking for more hurt/comfort, here’s my gojo hurt/comfort series: here (more action-y than this though)

Thanks for reading !! :)

[damiansgoodgirll]

I know this is so wrong on many levels, but would you please make something with punk cheating on her wife with reader? It can be smut and angsty at the same time, like they both are feeling really guilty but they can’t stop the sexual tension between them 🥵😭😩❤️🙏

AJ I LOVE YOU I PROMISE

cm punk x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ +18, smut, angst, toxic phil, mean phil, cheating, daddy issues (?)

nasty attraction

what you and phil were doing was wrong on so many levels. he had a wife waiting for him at home, a wife he loved. he promised her to love and protect her, to be always by her side and yet he every week, after raw, he was always in your bed.

it started as an accident. he felt so guilty after you slept together that he avoided for a month. when he realised that he couldn’t avoid you forever, he talked with you, explained that what happened was just a mistake and that he had no feelings for you, that he was deeply in love with his wife and that he needed time to make amend.

you were hurt. you knew that he didn’t have feelings for you but the harsh way he said it, almost as if it was your fault you had sex, it hurt you.

he promised he would have never happened again but he couldn’t keep it promise much as just a few weeks later he was the one dragging you into his hotel room.

he needed to let go some tension and he thought that you wouldn’t mind. of course you didn’t mind. you were probably too focused on your crush for the old man to think that he was only using you.

that mistake turned into more and more mistakes and you couldn’t deny the immense attraction that you had for him. he was older, hot, more experienced than you, rough and cold, married.

all the red flags were right in front of you but you were too blind to see them.

“one last time…this is our last time…” he whispered while one of his hand was working on your clit as the other kept your wrists clutched to the bed.

everytime, he swore that it was going to be the last time but every week the same routine occurred.

he was happily married. he loved his wife more than he could explain. but there was something that you had that made him crawl under your skin.

you were young, in your twenties. you were inexperienced so that lead him to be able to do everything he wanted with you and your body. he knew you had a crush on him, he wasn’t stupid. and he knew it was wrong to play with your feelings but he couldn’t help it. you were like a stress reliever for him, someone he would be rough and mean, someone he could release all the past tension he had.

“fuck…” you moaned, your voice soft while his calloused hands kept harshly stimulating your clit.

“uh uh…bad girls don’t get to cum…” he loved the game he was playing “turn around…ass up” he ordered. he expected you to obey as you always did but there was some hesitation this time “i gave you an order y/n…don’t make me punish you” this was a common routine. he would tease you, he would turn you around and fuck you and then he would leave.

“i don’t want to…” you confessed, opening your eyes.

“to do what?” he didn’t meant to be so mean with you. sometimes he forgot that you were a person just like him and that you had feelings. especially after the whole situation with drew mcintyre, he was more stressed than ever.

“this…” you didn’t want to sound so weak but something shifted between the two of you. he wasn’t always so mean. sure, he wasn’t a vanilla lover but there times where he would actually take his time with you and make you feel appreciated. none of this quick fuck excuses “the way you’ve been treating me for the past weeks…i don’t deserve this phil…i’m not your whore and even if you don’t see this thing the way i see it, you don’t have to treat me like im nothing…” you didn’t meet his eyes.

guilt flowing through his body.

you were right. he knew you were right. but he knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of emotion and kindness towards you, he knew it would be over for him. he didn’t love you, absolutely. he didn’t have a crush like you had. but he was attracted by you, there was like a magnet around you that kept pulling him towards you.

he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. thinking about how your presence was so intoxicating for him.

“i know…and i’m sorry…” he apologised “i’m so fucking sorry…i shouldn’t have been so rude with you, i just…”

“you just?” you were curious.

“what we do…it’s so wrong, i know i shouldn’t do this, i have an amazing wife waiting for me at home…i love her more than anything but i can’t help being so fucking attracted to you, and i know that if i get affectionate with you everything will change and i don’t want that…” he looked at you while speaking and it seemed true to his words.

“we can stop if you want to…” you hoped he would say no.

“that‘s the fucking problem…i can’t stop, i can’t get enough of you, your body, the way you sounds so sweet everytime you cum on my dick…i can’t stop this” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“one last time?” you asked him, hoping that he would say yes.

“one last time…” and he swore that it was going to be the last time for you and him.

he gently laid you down on the bed and kissed upon your body, as if he wanted to apologize for being so mean with you. and for a second you believed him, you believed that his intentions were pure but you remembered that he was a married man, a man who loved his wife, a man who couldn’t give you the future you wanted and deserved and for that you will always resent him.

when he pushed inside of you, his movements were slow, calm. like he wanted to savour you one last time.

he moaned into your shoulder, trying to control himself. he wanted to own you, to show you who was in charge. he wanted to bend you over like he always did but tonight was different, he wanted to have you one last time.

“shit…phil…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but he was hitting all of the right spots inside of you and you couldn’t keep your moans low. he knew your body so well, and he knew what pushed you on the edge.

“right there baby?” he smirked, taking a deep look into your face. your eyes were closed, trying to stop tears from falling.

“yes…” and that was all he needed to hear since he started moving a little faster, hitting your sweet spot.

“i wanna feel you coming around my dick…one last time…” there was a little of sadness, maybe resentment.

his lips left some kisses over your neck and collarbone, mixing with the pleasure he was already bringing you. this was a sweet phil, a side that you never saw. and you thought about how lucky was his wife to have him, to having him kiss her goodnight every single night, how lucky she was to have him in her arms and hold him every day. you wanted to be that girl and you knew that someday you would get your chance to be loved, just that it wouldn’t be phil to love you like that.

a tear rolled down your eye, both from sadness and pleasure, he was easily bringing you over the edge “phil…i’m so close…” you moaned as your hands moved to mark his back. you didn’t mean to but if that was your last time together, you needed to have him as close as possible so you brought him closer to you. your chest meeting with tattooed one.

he sped a little more, you could hear the cracks from the bed, wondering if your hotel neighbours were hearing those too.

“come for me baby…” he whispered against your skin. those words making you clench hard around his dick that released inside of you. with a deep growl phil came, spilling inside of you. your legs still shaking a bit from the stimulation.

you both looked at each other, speechless. you hoped he would say something first but nothing came out of his mouth.

“our last time uh?” you tried to laugh, but deep down all you wanted to do was cry.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension “yeah…our last time…i should probably go back to my bedroom” he whispered.

“you should” you didn’t want to hear more words coming out his mouth. you wanted to be left alone and never see him again.

he quickly stood up and he dressed himself. he took one look at you before leaving the room.

you stayed there, watching the ceiling and let all those tears fall.

“she’s so lucky…” you whispered, knowing that you’ll never have him.

[urfavoriteitalian]

“someone older”

summary: in which Charles can’t satisfy your sexual needs and you and Lewis share a little secret

warning: SMUT! (mdi), age gap, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!), cheating, oral f, fingering,slapping, p in v, dirty talk, praise, degrading, that’s all i think.. :)

note: i’m sorry that y/n will cheat on Charles, but i needed a victim 🥲

I was in the bed, the night before US GP, Charles was in the shower trying to calm down for the next day. I was scrolling through Tiktok when he came out of the bathroom. I took a look of him, wet hair, visible v-shape, towel resting on the hips. I squeezed my things together at the sight.

“Babe” I called him, he turned, after wearing his boxer, “Yeah?” he said while looking himself in the mirror, adjusting his hair, “Why don’t you come here?” I asked patting the empty space next to me on the bed.

He didn’t answer, he get on the bed, and left a quick kiss on my temple, before picking up his phone. I took his face in my hands, and lead his lips on mine. At first he followed the movement of my lips, but when I tried to deepen it, he moved away “Baby, I have the Gran Prix tomorrow, you know the rules” he told me.

The rules. In my opinion, lately, Charles has found all the excuses of this world for not touching me, and when he did, he couldn’t satisfy my needs. I took his hand on my thing “Charles please” i begged “I need you”. He scoffed, taking his hand off my thing “Stop acting like a needy teenager” he said, turning to the side.

The next day, in the Ferrari garage, Charles was talking with the engineer about the car, and I was talking with Carlos about some good place to go eat. “Hey guys, can I get in?”

I freeze, that voice, his voice. Lewis entered the garage, after Carlos told him he could, my eyes locked with his, and he wicked me, before go talking with Charles. “I just wanted to wish you a good luck for the race, since yesterday i couldn’t” he said, talking with Charles and Carlos.

They talked for a while, and it was embarrassing how i couldn’t keep my eyes off him for the whole time. “Now I really need to go, or my teammates will kill me” he said laughing. After saying goodbye to the two pilots, he come towards me. He placed his tattooed hand on my lower back and left a sweet kiss on my cheek, way to close to my mouth, but Charles didn’t notice since he was busy talking with some engineers, “I hope i see you later” he whispered in my ear, and then left the garage.

Before I started dating Charles, I had a sort of relationship with Lewis. Relationship is actually a big word. We would just hang up a couple of times, and then find ourselves rolling in the bed sheets of one of the two. More then a couple actually. But when I stared seeing Charles i completely cut off all the relationships with Lewis, and I asked him to keep this secret between us.

So every time I saw him, I tried to act my best, but Lewis didn’t help me at all. Always putting his hand on my lower back, almost kiss me on the lips, and whisper things to my ear in that strong english accent.

after the race.

Lewis and Charles has been disqualified, and for the whole trip to the hotel, Charles hasn’t said a word. When we arrived to our room, Charles quick changed and made his way towards the door. “Where are you going?” i asked him, and he stopped at my words “I just want to be alone for a bit”. I jumped off the bed and go towards him, “Stay here.” I said putting my hand on his. One thing I’ve always knew about Charles was that in situations like this he likes to be alone, but he’d much rather be in the hotel room that God knows where, so i decided to give him his space. “I can go far a walk with Heidi” I reassured him, sweetly smiling.

He just nod and go again towards the bathroom for change. I get out the room, closing the door behind me, not knowing at all where to go, until a name crossed my mind. Lewis. Ha has been disqualified too, and maybe he need someone to talk to. Just talk. I repeated to my self. Talk and nothing more. Before I could realize, I was in front of Lewis’ room, 404. I knocked, but he didn’t open the door, so I thought that maybe he wanted to be alone too. What a stupid idea.

Before I could turn my self completely and go away, I heard the door open, and my name being called. I turned again, and I find Lewis leaning on the door frame, half naked, grey pants only, braids in a little bun, but two behind his ear, and a damn smirk on his face “Need something?” ha asked

I gulped a bit, realizing in what situation i was putting my self into, “I..”, he didn’t gave me the time to talk “Come on, get in” he said moving from the door frame. It was like my brain wasn’t working and my feet was walking by themselves. I entered the room, and Lewis locked the door behind him.

“So” he started indicating me to sit on the bed, and I did, “Need something?” he asked again crossing his arms, knowing damn well he looks hot in that moment. “I just wanted to tell that i’m sorry for your disqualification” i said looking at my shoes.

“Look at me darling” he said getting close to me, and I did, “I just wanted to tell that i’m sorry for your disqualification” I said again. “Does Charles know that you’re here?” he asked and I didn’t answered. He got way more close to me, picking up my chin in his tattooed fingers

“Do you want tell me why you’re really here, or you want keep acting like the innocent girl we both know you aren’t?” ha started caress my cheek. “I told you, i just wanted to tell you that i’m sorry” I said, most like a whisper.

He get on his knees in front of me “Does he touch you like a do?” he asked caressing my knee, I gulped “Because I think that’s why you’re here” he started caressing my bare thighs. “You’re here because no boy, can touch you like a man” I sighed, and squeezed my thighs together, and he smirked “Tell me, does he make you feel the way that I did?”

I looked away from him “No..” I said, he started kiss my thigh “Look at me darling”. He put his hands around my neck and without said nothing he harshly kissed me. It wasn’t a love, sweet kiss, like the one that Charles would give to me, it was a needy, lust kiss. I gasped and he took a chance for put he tongue in my mouth. He moved the hand off my neck and put it again on my thighs, squeezing them possessively, I moan. He bite my lower lip, and moved his face between my legs. He started kiss my legs, then my thighs “Always around with this squeezy outfit” he got closer to my wet core “I bet he doesn’t even fuck you in them”

My skirt was not rolled on my hips, he smiled when he noticed how wet I was. He quickly removed my thong, and attached his lips to my wet core. I tried not to moan and I put my hand on this beautiful braids, squeezing them for pleasure. Without warning he put two fingers inside of me and I almost screamed.

“God you’re so tight, baby” his thumb stared made circular movements on my clit, the other hand put my thighs on his shoulders, while his fingers continued working inside of me. I bite my lower lip, trying not to moan, but Lewis slapped my cheek, “I want hear you”

The more Lewis’ fingers worked inside of me, the more I got louder. My legs stared shaking, and now I was practically chocking him with my legs “Lewis..” I called him between my moans. My walls started cleched around his fingers, and my mouth was spilling his name no stop. I came with a loud moan and Lewis kissed me and I savoured my taste from before.

Before I could recover from my early cum, that Lewis took my clothes off, i got closer to him, and removed his grey pants. I touched his now hard cock from the boxer, but he stopped me by kissing me again, and whispered to my ear “Get on your hands and knees”.

I did as told getting on my hands and knees and arching my back for him. He slapped my ass harsly “I bet he doesn’t know what a slut you’re”, he caressed my ass cheek and then slapped it again. I turned my head to look at him. Lewis took his boxer off, and jerked a bounce of times, that sight of him made my cunt clench around nothing. Lewis laughed at that and shook his head, “Such a slut” he said getting his cock closer to my cunt “Clenching because i’m jerking off”.

His cock was now running up and down my wet folds. I arched my back more, to get more friction “Lewis.. Please” I begged him, but it looked more like a desperate whine. Lewis chuckled, and after harsly grabbed my hips, he entered me. I grabbed the sheets of the bed and moaned loudly his name.

“Look at you” he groaned “Getting finally fuck like the whore you are”. I moaned without replying, Lewis put his hand in my hair and with a strong grip he makes my back stick to his chest. “God you’re so tight” he whispered in my ear “Needed someone older mh? Someone who knows how to fuck whores like you” he told and started leaving open mouth kiss on my neck. I clenched at his words and he groaned in response “I missed this cunt” he said, and put his hand around my neck.

At this point I was moaning mess, I put my head on his shoulder, and I almost yelled when he puts his thumb on my clint and played with it. All that came out of my mouth were moans and begs, I didn’t even know what I was begging him for, but my brain couldn’t think straight in that moment. “Tell me” Lewis slightly chocked me “Tell me how good I make you feel”

I didn’t answer, and he slapped my ass, for sure leaving a mark. I moaned again “So good” I shutter “You make me feel so good” and he groaned. The room was filled by our moans, mostly mine, and the sound of our skin meeting each other. I was getting close, I could feel by the nod in my stomach and my legs shaking “Lewis” I called him for the million time “I’m close” I said.

“Come baby” he said, while his movements were getting sloppier and he was losing his rhythm “Make a mess on my cock”. It was all I needed to cum, I repeated his name like a prayer, and i left myself lay on the bed, not able to stand alone. Lewis came right after me, filling me up with his cum. He took his cock out of me and I whined for the loss of contact.

He laid next to me, and took my hair of my face. He left a sweet kiss on my lips “Did I hurt you?” he asked worried. Sometimes, it looked like the person who fucked me, and Lewis were two different persons. I shook my hand with a smile, and I kissed him again “It was great, thank you” I put my head on his bare chest, and Lewis caressed my back.

Another secret that we would share..

note: hi!! this is my first post here, I hope that you guys liked :), I read it a couple of times, but maybe there’s still some mistakes. sorry but english isn’t my first language.

love ya,

Carla 💋