#tw infidelity

[aurorawritestoescape]

BORROWED TIME

Joel Miller x f!reader || 4k

Summary: Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, fluff, age is not specified, soft dom vibes, infidelity, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampies, belly bulge, soft!Joel, EMOTIONS, rough-ish sex, consensual somno, heavily inspired by Pedro’s vacay pics and videos. Pics are only for the mood. Joel can lift reader. Reader wears a dress, a bikini.

A/n: yay my first fic of 2025! I didn’t expect it to be this one but like all of us I was deeply affected by the recent Pedro content and needed to cope somehow so I wrote this. I really hope y’all will like it! Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💋 ILY, baby🫂 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

The first day in heaven. A soft breeze caresses your skin as soon as you step out of the cab, just from the airport, but Joel’s hands always do it better.

You’ve been looking forward to this trip, afraid to even talk about it, scared to jinx it, make it vanish like a mirage. You’ve been dreaming of having Joel all to yourself for too long.

Joel hugs you in the hotel lobby while they’re checking you in, and you tilt your head up to face him. You’ve never smiled so widely before. Your heart is fluttering in your chest, and his scent, your favorite in the whole world, makes you tremble and gush.

You taste sugar on your lips from a welcome Mimosa, and as soon as you two are in your room, he licks it off; the kiss is full of passion, his hands eager, desperate to tear your summer dress off. It’s on the floor in a second, just like your panties. He kneels in front of you and kisses your naked thigh. A growl against your skin makes you shiver before he looks you up and down, taking in the sight of your naked body, and then tuts with overexaggerated disapproval,

”Asked you not to wear anything underneath, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t be butt-naked on the plane, Joel,” you giggle, tracing a line from the crease between his brows, down the slope of his nose, and to his chin. You love his profile so much that seeing it is not enough, so you made a habit of touching it too.

“I promise you’ll never see any underwear on me from now on.”

“Good girl,” he praises you with a wide smile, and then suddenly latches onto your wet pussy. You gasp and grab his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Joel helps you not to fall, his strong hands on your thighs spread your legs apart, and you happily grant him access to the most sacred part of your body.

He pushes his tongue between your folds, traces your soft entrance with its tip, and your legs are already trembling. He starts playing with you, mischief swimming in his dark eyes, slowly laps at your folds, gently sucks on your clit but doesn’t give you enough stimulation to come.

You whine when his mouth parts from your puffy bud, desperate for a release.

“You’ll come, my angel. But only on my cock,” Joel promises, getting up, takes you in his arms, and carries you to the shower.

You're caged between the shower wall and Joel. He's naked and wet, radiating sex and desire. Soapy water is running over the curves of your body while he's washing you, taking his time. His big lathered palms are gliding over your breasts, belly, mound, ass. Your hands are pressed to the expense of his chest as he's slowly edging you, always happy to play with you like a cat with a mouse. He's waiting for you to break under his touch, to beg for more. Yet his heart is beating so fast and hard under your palms that it leaves you no doubt that he's desperate for you just as much as you're for him. He can't get enough of you and your heart sings, seeing every sign of it— his blown out eyes, his heavy breathing, his hard cock.

You're revelling in the caress of Joel's hands but your body takes over soon enough. Your wet palm slithers down his torso and wraps around his stiff length. You pump the shaft a few times and then guide his tip between your folds.

"Fuck me, Joel." Your plea is almost swallowed by the sound of the rainfall shower but he hears you.

"Begging me already? So needy." His eyes are obsidian, he can't fool you.

"Aren't you?" you purr, sliding his fat tip up and down over your hardened clit, massaging it, making yourself moan and tremble. The sensation makes Joel grunt and break. Through his teeth he commands, "Turn around."

“Yes, sir,” you breathe out, smile wide, eyes sparkling, and in a second the cold tile kisses your cheek, then your pebbled nipples, and his fat head slowly slides into your pussy, followed by his girthy shaft.

“Hngggg— oh, baby—been thinking of fucking you since this morning. Your damn dress. Took me a lot not to ruin you right on the plane.”

You whimper at his words and then your eyes roll back when he starts thrusting his thickness in and out of your tight cunt. It takes you a few deep breaths to get used to the stretch but you always take him well and soon wet slapping noises reverberate off the walls, together with your moans and his grunts fusing into a melody of lust and passion. You love when he’s as desperate for you as you’re for him. It gives you hope.

Crispy sheets, so white your eyes hurt, envelop your poorly-dried bodies like a cloud.

“C’mere,” he croaks, pulling you closer, and you rest your head on his chest as he covers you two with a blanket. His warm cum is leaking out of your stretched pussy and you tingle all over again but the flight has drained you both and in a couple of minutes you two fall asleep.

You wake up before Joel and slip out from under his arm to look at the view. You walk out on the balcony and the beauty of the ocean under the bright sun overwhelms you, making you squeal with excitement. Not being able to wait any longer to feel the caress of the waves, you hurry back to the room and wake Joel up with a soft kiss.

“Wake up, sleepy. Let’s go swimming before the sun sets.”

Joel’s golden skin is sparkling with a myriad of water diamonds as he’s standing waist-deep in the bluest ocean in front of you, rendering you completely mesmerized. He chuckles, noticing the way you’re almost drooling, and pulls you closer into his embrace. With his body pressed to yours, your pussy starts aching, and a twitch in his swim trunks tells you that he’s also affected by the sight and the feel of you.

“Damn, baby, driving me crazy…your tiny bikini…”

“Do you like it?” you ask, brushing his neck with your lips, tasting salt on his skin.

“Hate the way they all stare at you. You’re mine. But the way you look. Yeah, I like it,” he growls and bucks his hips against you under the water. You giggle and then sigh into the crease of his neck.

“I’m yours,” you whisper. ‘Are you mine?’ you think. You push the thoughts back into a box in your mind you promised yourself not to open here. ’You’re in heaven. Don’t ruin it,’ you remind yourself.

The next morning you wake up and see Joel right next to you, limbs tangled in the sheets, plush lips asking for a kiss. A rush of happiness makes you tear up and you squirm with impatience to start the day when Joel opens his eyes. He’s gorgeous in the morning — hair disheveled, voice hoarse. He looks a little grumpy but you kiss the crease between his brows away and his face softens.

“Morning, my angel.”

You wish you could hear it till the rest of your life. Or at least next week. He pulls you into his sleepy body, the hug is tight, the kiss is impatient, and soon the murmur of the ocean accompanies your whispers as you’re riding him, your thighs, sticky with sweat cling to his hips, his hand is kneading your breast, the other’s focused on making you come, thick fingers swirling around your clit. He expertly brings you to a hard orgasm and follows quickly after—the back of his head dips into the fluffy pillow as he bursts into you and you milk him to the last drop, happy to walk around with his cum between your legs all day.

Joel’s lying on a lounger now, his expression concentrated, reading a book in the shade, while you’re standing a few steps away, drying yourself with a towel, just out of the ocean. You can’t help but stare at his handsome face, the broadness of his shoulders, his big arms. God, he’s gorgeous. Feeling your heart eyes on him, Joel glances at you from the side and his lips curve into a playful smirk. It sends a bolt of lightning through your body, electrifies every nerve, makes your core burn with desire.

No need for words. His expression tells you everything - ‘C’mere. Now.’

Still dripping water, you walk to him and straddle his muscular thighs, barely covered by his red shorts. His legs are hot against your cold skin but you melt into your bikini bottoms because of his eyes— obsidian, piercing, magnetic, they pull you close and you lie down on his chest. His book, forgotten in a second, falls on the sand with a thud. You kiss his soft lips and whisper against them, “Take me to our room.”

Delicious dinners at sunset, the warm ocean, the white sand, clinging to your heated body, but most importantly him next to you make the time here fly. Blissful minutes turn into hours, hours flow into days. Full of laughter, long conversations, endless kissing and hot sex. But your ideal life, your paradise starts glitching and breaking into pixels when one morning he offers, “Wanna go get some souvenirs?”

Just one question, as trivial as it can be on a holiday, breaks the wall you’ve built in your mind between your perfect existence here and your reality there. Between your present and your future. Near future. You’re going back soon. To that life.

Suffocating panic tightly grabs your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to drive away the thoughts, to glue the wall back together but he muses what he should get for Sarah and your wall turns into glass and shatters into a million pieces.

You mumble something incoherent trying to fight the upcoming tears and rush to the bathroom.

By the time you’re standing in front of the mirror tears are flowing down your cheeks and you hastily wipe them away, hating to upset him, but your heart and your head, joined in a cruel tandem, remind you that everything is going to go back to normal very soon. Normal for him is a misery for you. Waiting, hoping, asking him to stay longer, wishing that he finally makes a decision, finally chooses you.

The rest of the day you’re quiet, afraid to speak and to let your emotions spoil your precious time together. It gets unbearably hard to ignore the fact that you’re having him all to yourself on borrowed time. You start or rather let yourself notice his calls, his voice quiet, probably lying about his business meetings. He talks to his wife on the balcony or in the bathroom, not to keep you a secret —you know how to be quiet when she calls at this point, but rather not to rub her in your face. You’re thankful, not wanting to reopen the wound that’s been slowly healing up during these days together. Yet you know that soon it’s going to gush blood again when you say goodbye to your paradise and return to your empty bed, fleeting dates with him and soul-crushing loneliness.

You disassociate when he talks about packing and the flight back. You kiss him and want to cry, moan his name under the weight of his body but your heart aches. Every touch is a reminder that soon it’ll be over, soon he’ll be hers again.

It’s the last day of the trip and early in the morning you sneak out while Joel’s still asleep and go to the beach. It’s almost empty, only seagulls are the witnesses of your breakdown. You’re crying, swept by a wave of dreadful thoughts in your mind. Tomorrow you’re leaving and then he’s leaving you. For a day? Two? A week? Who knows.

You can’t blame him. You knew that he was married from the start. At first it felt like a fling but you got attached, you fell in love with the married man and foolishly expected him to divorce his wife, scoop you up in his big arms and carry you into the sunset like in a cheesy rom-com. But he kept telling you that, yes he didn’t love his wife anymore, but his daughter Sarah was too young and she was his world. He’d never hurt her like that, would never break up the family.

They say, you can’t change the ocean, no matter how hard you try, so it’s best to learn how to sail in all conditions. Just like the ocean Joel was unyielding in his devotion to his daughter but you failed to adapt so you were slowly drowning in despair, your love for him dragging you down like an iron ball chained to your foot.

You wipe the tears away and squeeze a handful of sand between your fingers as anger rises in your stomach. You deserve better than being someone’s dirty secret. What if you give him an ultimatum - you or his wife, and if he chooses her, you’ll find someone else. Someone who’ll love you openly, who’ll choose you. Someone better.

A thought makes your stomach sink - it’s not possible. Joel is perfect. He’s fucking perfect except for one huge flaw. He’s married.

You walk with your heart heavy back to your room and find Joel up, nervously pacing the floor. He asks where you’ve been and, not being able to conceal your feelings any longer, you burst into tears. He rushes to hug you but you slap his arms away. You shout, you cry, you beg. All the pain pushed deep down is spilling out of your heart, accompanied by the words you hate saying, insecurities you promised yourself to hide but it’s hard to stop.

It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before. He has and that’s why now he looks tired. Not angry. Never. Just tired, sad and guilty.

Joel tries to calm you down, comfort you but all in vain. You’re waiting for him to tell you ‘I’ll be with you forever,” but instead he mumbles that he needs to take a walk and leaves you crying, face buried in his pillow. His scent woven into the fabric brings a thought to your mind which makes you cry even harder — soon you’ll go back to your flat where everything smells like him but loses the warmth of his body the second he leaves.

In the evening Joel timidly suggests going to the hotel bar. You feel embarrassed for your earlier outburst, but the fact that he didn’t make the decision you hoped for is twisting your stomach. Thinking that everything is better than staring at the suitcases in the corner of the room, you agree to go.

The bar is almost empty except for the two of you. You sit at the counter and order two shots of tequila. After emptying them fast, you both get two more and soon the hard liquor slightly numbs your emotions.

Joel’s warm hand is resting on your lower back as he’s peppering your shoulder, your neck, your cheek with open mouth kisses, but you’re cold, distant. It’s hard even to look at him.

He sighs but then suddenly exclaims, making you jerk,

“I love this song! Let’s dance!”

You smile a little, amused by the lights in his eyes. He’s cute when he’s tipsy. But you shake your head and mumble that you’re not in the mood.

Joel surprises you when he slides off his stool and starts dancing. Alone. For you. Despite everything you can’t tear your eyes off him. His dark gaze set on yours pierces your soul and makes your heart flutter in your chest. His movements are slow and alluring and the sway of his hips ignites fire in your core. You press your thighs together, quickly affected by his blatant seduction, and when he moves closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body, it gets hard for you to breathe.

Joel’s lustful eyes tell you to submit and when he places his hands on your knees, you obediently open your legs in invitation. He gets between your thighs and gently takes your face in his hands. Joel looks into your eyes and you stop breathing altogether. At this moment you realize that you’ll never leave him willingly, never be able to say goodbye to these kind brown eyes, these soft lips, these gentle hands. He’s the love of your life and you’re his completely and utterly. But he’s not yours.

You rush to your room, both swept by the urge to tear each other apart. Soon your clothes are littering the floor, your cheek pressed to the bed, ass pushed out in the air, as he’s kneeling behind you, snapping his hips against you hard and fast, pushing his throbbing cock deeper into your wet cunt, grunting, making you scream. His fat tip knocks at your cervix and it slightly hurts but you welcome it, wishing to focus on the ache from his length rather than the pain torturing your soul. His hands are leaving marks on your soft hips and you’re looking forward to seeing them on your body later as evidence that this trip was in fact real and not a wishful dream.

“Fuck— gonna come— you first, baby,” Joel growls and rubs your clit with an impatient hand, wet with your juices. You come shaking and crying on his cock and he rewards you with his load, squirting against your pulsating walls, which are squeezing him tightly and desperately. He’s carefully pulling out, and your tight cunt grabs onto him. Just like your heart, your body always craves him.

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel’s chest is pressed to your back, his hand is cupping your wet folds, as he’s taking you from behind, sleepily moving his cock in and out of your sore pussy, drenched with his cum.

“Oh, baby— ahhh—love you—so much—yeahh— so good—,” he’s whispering in your ear, his voice gruff with sleep, his hot breath caressing your cheek. You moan softly before echoing him, “I love you, Joel.”

You beg him not to stop, already feeling yourself on the brink of ecstasy. The nature of your relationship makes it a rarity to be used by him in your sleep and you get turned on instantly. His arm snakes under and wraps around you as he starts pulling and twitching your nipples, while his other hand massages your puffy folds and then moves up.

“Damn—right here,” Joel grows, feeling a lump, moving under your skin. Thrusting his cock in and out with a steady rhythm, he mumbles, “Gimme,” grabs your hand and presses your palm tightly to your own belly, covering it with his hand.

“Feel it?”

“Yes, Joel, fuck,” you whimper and turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Joel keeps fucking you leisurely while you both are feeling the push of his cock under your skin.

Completely drunk on pleasure, swallowing each other's moans, you start coming hard at the same time, and your bodies, wet with sweat, jerk against each other. You feel so full, complete - your core is full of his load, your heart is full of his love. Happy in your oblivion, you fall asleep in the heaven of Joel’s arms.

But the dreaded morning comes fast. You try to concentrate on the tasks at hand, focus on the last preparations and soon Joel and you get into the cab, ready to head to the airport. You throw one last look at the hotel and the ocean, and take a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry. Sensing it, Joel pulls you closer and starts telling you an old childhood story, something about his brother Tommy and them ditching school together. You know what he’s doing but surprisingly it works and soon your giggles and his deep laugh fill the cab, lighting up the air between you two.

When you arrive in Austin, Joel insists on going to your address together. You refuse at first, but spending an extra hour with him sounds amazing. You hold hands on the way and shamelessly make out at the back of the cab.

You arrive at your place and Joel helps you with your suitcases. When you step into your flat, it seems like you’re carrying something heavy on your shoulders. Should you apologize for the last few days? Should you say something about it at all, risking leaving a bad taste in your mouths, ruining the whole trip.

But Joel beats you to it.

He comes up to you and hugs you tight. So tight that it’s hard for you to breathe. You nuzzle his neck, reveling in his scent, and suddenly you feel his whole body shake. You tilt your head up and see tears in his sad eyes. You’ve never seen Joel cry before, and it makes your chest hurt and your eyes well up too.

“Joel?“

“No, baby. Listen to me.” His voice is shaky, and fear grips your heart. Is he going to break up with you? You’d die on the spot.

He sniffs and continues,

“I’m sorry. Sorry for the mess I got you in. Sorry for your tears, but — I can’t, baby. Can’t do what you want from me. Rightfully so, but — not now. I’m sorry.”

You’re shaking your head, your teardrops landing on his tee,

”No, it’s ok. It’s fine.”

“It’s not, sweetheart. I’m an asshole. It’s horrible what I’m doing to them and to you. But I’m fuckin selfish. I can’t — can not be with you. I need you. I love you too much.”

You smile weakly, hearing his confession. Joel takes your hands in his and holds them tightly as he croaks,

“And you decide to stop seeing me, I’ll understand. I won’t bother you. I promise.”

You wipe tears off his scruffy cheeks and reach up to give him a kiss.

When you part from him, your expression is serious and determined.

“There’s nothing to decide, Joel. I love you. And I’ll wait for you. As long as you need me to. I’m yours.”

Joel’s red eyes dart between yours, and you give him a reassuring smile. After taking a deep breath, he whispers ,

“I don’t deserve you.”

He lifts you up, strong arms wrapped around your torso, and crashes his mouth against yours. You kiss him back with passion, putting your love in every stroke of your lips. Joel possessively licks into your mouth, his big hand cups the back of your head, keeping you close - a sign that he’s not letting you go. He needs you too much.

It might be wrong, it might bring you both grave pain, but a glimmer of hope in your heart, given by his confession, puts a smile on your face when you close the door behind him. He loves you, he wants to be with you, you’re his. And for now, it should be enough.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

People who were interested in the wip: @baronessvonglitter @almostfoxglove @tammythr @sawymredfox @myownwholewildworld @guiltyasdave

[miyaagis]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐I desire violently—and I wait. gojo satoru

political unions are means to strengthen a clan, and you were lucky enough to willingly accept his affections and give him an heir—a son. so, why does he need backup heirs from other women?

explicit content‐mdni. ₊˚⊹ ⚝ clan head!gojo, wife+mom!reader, infidelity, hurt little comfort, angst, jealousy, gojo being a boy dad, unnamed three-year-old baby gojo, pet names (honey, love), mentions of breeding and pregnancy.

word c. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ a bit over 1,000

clan head gojo art inspo

the gojo estate had always been blessed with bright landscapes during winter.

gray skies blended seamlessly with the light colored buildings, graced by the light rain (even with monsoon season still months away) and a calm atmosphere brought by the cold mornings.

"fishie c'mere."

your son wiggled his little fingers inside the water of the fishpond, squealing in delight when a fish splashed next to him. the three-year-old turned to look at you, bright eyes shimmering with mirth and child-like wonder.

"kōhaku!"

still crouched next to the pond, he loudly repeated what he had been taught recently by his governess.

even at his young age, his curiosity for the world surrounding him seemed endless, constantly having the clan's nannies on their toes only to get his way with that charming smile he clearly inherited from satoru.

"is that my mochi!?"

the exaggerated gasp from your husband quickly caught the little boy's attention, searching for his dad by turning his head left and right.

satoru's grip around his son came from behind, his little sandals falling from his feet as he's thrown up in the air before landing safely in his father's arms.

"papa, look! kōhaku!"

your husband gasps, dangling the boy over the pond as they watched the fish swim, "woahhh! my son is so smart!"

the little boy giggled as satoru littered his chubby cheeks with kisses, getting thrown over his dad's shoulder as they made their way towards you.

"good morning, my love," he leaned down to peck your lips, smiling tenderly at you. "has the little squirt been giving you any trouble?"

"he woke up an hour ago" you sighed, and he could perfectly picture you handling the cranky boy all by yourself.

"mama, i'm hungry." your son whined, letting his head fall against satoru's shoulder as he pouted adorably. "tummy hurts."

"go wash up, I'll handle breakfast," seeing the tired look on your face, he knew he had to cut you some slack and do his part as a parent. "take as long as you need, sweetheart."

with a kiss on your temple and a thankful smile from you, he sent you back to your shared bedroom while he took your little one to the kitchen.

"c'mon, mochi. let's go make mama something yummy."

—

two hours earlier.

satoru felt the warm embrace of his mistress nuzzling against him, her arms wrapped around his middle, and their legs tangled together under the thick comforter.

the sun wasn't even up, but the birds already chirped loudly through the window.

her faint sigh caught his attention, pulling her closer by throwing her leg over his hip while caressing the smooth surface of her thigh. they didn't even bother with clothes the night before, cocooning against each other after falling limply on the bed.

small kisses had warmth blooming on her skin, the comforting heat shared between their nude bodies as they stayed cuddled together.

"again?"

the clear disbelief in her tone made him chuckle, grunting softly as he pulled half of her body on top of his.

"I have to make sure it takes."

she hummed and smiled sleepily, pressing her lips onto his as he nudged her bare folds with the crown of his shaft right before sinking in her warmth.

they both felt their bodies ease up in relief, soft sighs exchanged in between sloppy kissing as he lazily thrust inside her.

satoru kept his face nuzzled against her neck, breathing her in while his arms wrapped around her. eventually, his lips moved back to her mouth in need of intimacy, the languid strokes of their tongues matching the steady pace of their lovemaking.

it didn't take him long to feel his member twitch and throb, emptying another load of his seed inside the woman, murmuring sweet nothing's as his length softened and slipped out of her.

satoru found it easy to fall asleep again with his mistress in his arms.

—

the fabric of your robes rustled silently around your feet—which seemed glued to the floor, as you watched her exit the main house of the gojo estate after another meeting between the Gojo's and her own clan.

her eyes met yours, and her hand immediately went to her flat stomach, as if protecting it, which made you scoff. and it only worsened when your husband held her hand as he helped her descend the wooden stairs.

all you could offer was a blank, emotionless stare, your sleeping son carefully held in your arms with his face hidden in the crook of your neck.

her eyes went to him, and your instincts screamed at you to shield him from her. what else did she want from you? was she after your son as well?

satoru swiftly rushed his mistress towards the exit so he could go back to you, having seen your distress. once he met you at the entrance of your own home, his frame interrupted your stare-down with the woman.

"let's go inside, honey." his tone was calm and gentle, coaxing you to let the issue go and head inside, but you didn't move. "please?"

"have you fulfilled your part of the deal?"

the coldness of your gaze had your husband pouting like a kicked animal. he ached to reassure you of his love, but he was quickly running out of ways to prove it.

"yes, I have."

wordlessly, you turned around with your son cradled close to you, his little fingers clinging onto your robes and satoru right behind you.

"my love, I hold no feelings. you know this already."

his reassurance was of little to no use. how he expected you to accept him impregnating another woman was beyond you.

"it's a political union," he vehemently said, knowing he had to convince you that she'd never become a wife of his. he'd give her a child—a backup heir—in exchange for her clan's resources and political ties. "I hold no feelings. you are my wife and the mother of the gojo clan's heir."

after putting down your son in his bed, making sure his soft hair was out of his forehead and the blanket kept him warm, you finally met satoru's gaze back.

"I don't want to know anything about her existence. don't ever bring her to my home again."

satoru nodded eagerly, willing to promise anything in order to end your sour mood. "I won't."

your son's room went silent besides the small breaths of his as he slept, unaware of the conflict worming inside his own home.

"but I will be out of our home more often." satoru knew he had to be careful with his words, blue eyes watching your reaction closely. there was no way to make it hurt any less, and he was finding it harder to conceal the excitement brimming from him. "she's pregnant."

satoru had to make sure the mother of his unborn baby had everything she wanted—him included.

[introloves]

tojis the kinda crazy to actively seek you out when you’re committed,, finds a nasty sort of thrill sending a, “she’s busy.” text, followed by a video of him drilling into you from behind- there’s just something about seeing your phone immediately light up with a call from them. tips his head back and laughs while you’re whimpering, stuttering out a-

“w-who’s calling?”

before leaning back down over you, kissing you like he loves you so much- flipping your phone over and wrapping an arm around your throat to keep you bowed against his pistoning hips.

“nobody, princess.”

[fallstaticexit]

To Continue -> 18+ Pillowfort (TW: Sex, Nudity, Choking, Marking/Biting/Bruises)

Prev / Next / Beginning

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [I won the bid. My father looked me in the eyes and smiled. My name is displayed all over the media. I had almost everything I could possibly want. So why was I still so deeply unsatisfied]

[door swings open]

Lily: Well. Look at you, celebrating your big win by gazing at the bottom of a bottle. A true CEO in the making.

Nancy: What do you want? Why are you here?

Lily: Wouldn’t I be a bad sport if I didn’t come congratulate the victor?

Nancy: [scoffs] Don’t waste your breath. I’m hardly moved nor am I flattered.

Lily: I didn’t think you had it in you. Who would have thought that feeble, meek woman I met had some bite to her after all? Paying off my guys in Tomarang? That’s pretty fucking low. God, I should sue your ass for everything you’re worth.

Nancy: It’s a man’s game, right? Isn’t that what you said? Take what you want? I deserve this. So I took it.

Lily: What is it that you really want, Nancy? Are all your accomplishments for meaningless gratification or do you truly love being a vile bitch?

Nancy: You wanna know what I want?

Lily: Go on. Humor me.

Nancy: Alright.

Nancy: I want you to kiss my heels.

Lily: [huffs] Wha- what did you just say to me?

Nancy: I said, I want you to kiss my heels. I won, didn’t I? You’ve come all this way to my office dressed in red because you know I’m a winner. I deserve this and now, I want my prize; you on your knees kissing my heels.

Lily: [sneers] Are you asking me or are you telling me?

Nancy: I’m telling you. Now get up.

Nancy: Crawl.

Lily: [panting] What else?

Nancy: [breathlessly] E-else?

Lily: [groans] Fuck. I need you to tell me what to do.

Nancy: I don’t know...I’ve never-

Lily: Do you want me to take this off?

Nancy: Y-yes...

Lily: Tell me to do it.

Nancy: T-take off my skirt. Now.

Lily: Keep going. Tell me more.

Nancy: I-

Nancy Narrates: [Oh God. What the hell am I doing]

Nancy: I want you to take off my panties..

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

Your current boyfriend used to be the jock that shoved emo-freak SAM MONROE into lockers. And now Sam’s got you moaning his name while his skinny boy cock rearranges your insides. Who needs all that muscle when you’ve got a sleep-deprived pill-popping grunge cunt destroyer filling up the empty space in your bed? Is he doing this to get back at your soon-to-be-ex? No. He’s always loved you. Always wanted you. Looked after you in envy while you were with that air-headed football player. He’s only got the confidence to fuck you now though. He’ll worry about his future broken nose later. Currently, all that matters is getting you to squirt all over the mattress so his old bully comes home to soaked sheets that smell of sweet betrayal.

[estah]

😃

Transcript:

"Hi Honey"

"Just arrived at my mom's house. The journey took longer than expected, and I'm so tired, lol. I figured you're busy since I haven't heard from you. Miss you."

"Also... I know this is out of the blue, but if I've done anything wrong, I'm sorry. You've seemed distant lately, and it feels like you're shutting me out of your life. Dakota, you promised to communicate. We can work through whatever is going on together. I love you."

[vilsoo]

𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑶𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 ⌇ NANAMI KENTO

nanami kento x fem!reader || WC: 5,660

𖤐 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the owner of a five-star restaurant in kyoto seems to have his eyes on you as his regular, hiding his dark jealousy of your boyfriend. but there are many different ways to consume you as his and feast on his love for you forever…

𖤐 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cannibalism, chef/restaurant owner nanami, poisoning, murder, infidelity/cheating, slight dubcon, eventual smut, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, jealousy, dark obsession, slight stalking, gore, mutilation.

𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑫/𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

[RIDE ANNOUNCER] As you are getting seated, be mindful that this 4D simulation ride contains flashing scenes, special effects, and jarring motions. Please remember to stay seated and keep all arms and legs inside when the vehicle is in motion. Keep your 4D glasses on for a better experience. Any kind of photography is not allowed during the ride. And absolutely no eating, smoking, or drinking while riding. Thanks for your attention and cooperation. We hope you enjoy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“If you were on the menu, I’d eat you instead.”

The night your boyfriend uttered these words to you was the night the restaurant’s owner, Nanami Kento, lost his mind. Forcing himself to shrug a cold shoulder as condemning emotions threatened to boil inside him, he tried his best to stay composed. Was it a joke? An attempt at flirting? Regardless, such forbidden jealousy was enough to plague his mind like a vice that it made him clench his jaw.

Ever since you stepped foot into Nanami’s restaurant and became his regular, something brewed inside of him when he first saw you. A gorgeous woman with great taste in food; also elegant in style from the way you dolled yourself up for your dates every Friday night here. It’s as if the image of you was permanently cemented to his eyelids whenever he shuts his eyes. Nothing but a small secret crush, until, this fondness he has for you gradually developed into this forbidden, dangerous, dark, and twisted obsession.

Behind his charming and professional demeanor as the owner of a famous five-star restaurant in Kyoto, he was driven by the thought of consuming you.

Literally consuming you.

Something was wrong with him and he knew it. He knew how deeply unsettling and disturbing these kind of intrusive thoughts were. But god, if he were to indulge himself in his sexual appetite and have just one taste, just one taste of you— a piece of you, rather— no euphoric moment in the world would ever live up to what he’s been dreaming of.

Savoring you as his.

Nestled in a charming alleyway near the historic Gion district, Nanami’s rich and elegant restaurant was busy every weekend. It was hard to book reservations, but because you and your boyfriend were regulars, you get seated in less than 10 minutes. The diverse menu consists of a unique fusion of Japanese and Dutch cuisines, like sushi bitterballen, ramen stroopwafels, udon friknadel, and many other signature foods. For years, his fine-dining restaurant has had a great reputation. It was also recognized with numerous awards like Michelin stars and accolades from prestigious food critics. Designed as a sleek, modern high-rise restaurant with panoramic city views, plush velvet seating, and contemporary decor, the service still remains exemplary.

Nanami comes every Friday noon to observe his employees and maintain the restaurant, which is coincidentally the only time you come with your boyfriend. Of course, he takes good care of his chefs and the satisfaction of his guests, all while sneaking glances at you through the windows of the kitchen and watching you. Enjoying the food and laughing at whatever rubbish your boyfriend says to you, he keeps his professional facade while trying to hold every fiber of his being to not brutally murder him.

Sometimes Nanami would try to catch your attention with small talk whenever you stopped by the restrooms. Always complimenting your outfits and looks, asking how you think of the food, and just checking in on you overall. And you must admit; Mr. Nanami Kento is indeed a fine man. There was something about his luxurious aura and his warm presence that was so charming to you. He even dresses so impeccably; a tailored suit of deep midnight blue, complemented by an off white dress-shirt and his silk tie. It’s as if this man has the power to captivate anyone he speaks to. And even you felt a strange admiration for him the more you spoke with him…

It wasn’t until months later, the more you frequently visited the restaurant, the more you wanted to see Nanami. You’d often catch him sneaking glances at you, walking past your table just to banter with you in front of your boyfriend, and even serving your food on the house as a surprise. But you knew deep down, or maybe just presumed, that you were Nanami’s eye candy for those Friday evenings. And you couldn’t help but bask in the hint of attention he gives you— it’s even gotten to the point where you’d go to the restroom more often just to “bump into him.”

“Hey. Always happy to see you here again,” he greeted, standing by the corner as you got out from the hall to the restrooms. “You doing alright, miss Y/N?”

You beamed at the handsome man. “I’m doing good, Mr. Nanami. It’s also nice to see you, too.”

The hallway radiated a soft, gentle light from the chandelier sconces, creating this intimate atmosphere in this elegant restaurant. You can feel the way Nanami’s eyes shamelessly lingered on you, trailing from your sweet lips and down to the way your maxi dress hugged your skin. You were so goddamn beautiful; it was a shame that the only thing stopping him from pressing you against that black and gold marble wall and aggressively kissing you was your pathetic boyfriend.

“You know… as much as we love having you here on Fridays, I have something to offer you— if you don’t mind,” the man reckoned, immediately intriguing you.

“Oh? What is it?”

“This is the first and probably the last time I will ever do this, but if you want to learn our recipes at home, I can offer private cooking lessons. Not only does it save time and money coming all the way here every week, but you also have the luxury of making these recipes at your very own home anytime you want.”

“Private cooking lessons?” you ponder, looking around to see if anybody nearby was listening to such an exclusive offer, especially your boyfriend who was still waiting for you at the table.

All Nanami did was smile at your hint of interest. You couldn’t help but find odd comfort and reassurance in his warm smile, the way his offer was an expression of gratitude and genuine kindness just by your support. “Yes, ma’am. My method of teaching is preferably one-on-one, just like how I trained all my chefs here one-on-one. So it’d be best if you came alone, as long as your boyfriend is fine with it.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” you muttered, gazing at Nanami with the right kind of heat in your eyes. And suddenly, an uncontrollable eruption of erratic desire detonates within in his body.

Just by your unmatched beauty alone, and sensing that the intimate, ardent feelings you both had for each other was mutual, he’ll finally have a taste of you that he’s been so desperately ravaging for. You alone have beguiled him wholeheartedly as his object of obsession. He couldn’t believe how he maintained this insanity brewing inside of him as he stands before you.

Nanami slipped a card out from his breast pocket and handed it over, giving the address of his loft and his personal phone number. “Whenever you have time, you can always call for that private session. My address is also on here.”

Forbidden lust pools in your eyes from such an intense, unspoken yearning for each other. When your fingers graze with his as you reach out for the card, a shiver courses down your spine. Nanami can feel the infatuation spread in his limbs from the sensation of your fingertips, so soft and gentle, a tantalizing caress that sent his body ablaze. The way your skin and flesh felt from just a light graze was enough to make him drool.

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon, Mr. Nanami.”

You knew deep down how fucked up this all was. Tangled in these intense emotions of guilt, shame, and regret of what’s bound to happen during these private “cooking lessons.” But you try your best to convince yourself that this was exactly what you wanted; taking thrill in decepting your boyfriend behind his back, emerging into this temporary escape from your emotional constraints. You may have loved your boyfriend, but this tantalizing effect that Mr. Nanami has on you was something you were begging to explore more in depth…

When the next week rolls in and you give the feeble excuse to your boyfriend of having to work late at night, you arrived at Nanami’s loft. The modern exterior had a nice blend of Japanese architecture and modern elegance, with the wide windows capturing the skyline of Kyoto. Once you stepped inside, you felt like entering the building complex of a very rich and powerful CEO. Though Mr. Nanami may have radiated this kind of energy as a rich and elegant restaurant owner, he wasn’t too formal with the interior of his home. He had nice contemporary furniture with plush cushions and lovely decorations. The color palette features accents of natural tones like deep browns, beiges, greens, and grays.

As you ambled into the kitchen, you see his high-end quality appliances like a sleek induction cooktop, a built-in wall oven, and a discreetly hidden steel refrigerator and dishwasher. His quartz countertop already had the ingredients nicely organized, designed for cooking, casual dining, and maybe for something else... The lighting from the pendants hanging over the island was just as soft and intimate as his restaurant.

You watch as Nanami pours Château Mercian into a glass. “For you,” he offers. “Let me know if you need anything else before we begin.”

“I’m fine for now,” you feigned a smile as you took a sip, the rich flavors enveloping your senses and easing your anxiety. That feeling of guilt still lingered in your gut, and you were desperate to take your mind off the thought of ruining your relationship like this…

“Tonight, I’ll be showing you how to make the sushi bitterballen. I know that’s one of your favorites,” he murmurs fondly, the husk in his voice so bone-chilling and titillating to you. “Are you ready to begin?”

The warm, rich, and sultry tone of his voice reverberated in the back of your head, like dipping into radiant velvet and cream. Your body felt like it was caving in on you, striking erratically and so suddenly you weren’t in control of holding your own guard. The way he kept inching closer to you had your chest thundering, the forbidden lust and desire for him scorching your veins like wildfire.

Nanami offered an extra apron to you and started demonstrating on how to mix the cool sushi rice with chopped fish, cucumber, avocado, nori, soy sauce, rice vinegar, and sesame oil all well combined. Then with the mixture, you took small amounts to form them into balls to dredge them in flour, beaten eggs, and panko breadcrumbs. Preparing the food and cooking alongside with him has definitely eased your mind as you were heavily focused, but the more he kept invading your personal space, the more he kept touching you and even helping you from behind, you knew you couldn’t contain yourself. And Nanami couldn’t either; no matter how calm and nonchalant he tried to stay.

The way his hand overlapped yours as you were cooking and his darkened gaze tells you that there are parts of you that were unfamiliar to him. Parts of you that he would like to acquaint.

Explore.

Ravage.

Devour.

Eat.

There was nothing more tortuous than being plagued with guilt and desire tonight. You were both lost and saturated with vivid insights, raging with such fiery passion. Oh, how you wanted him to fuck you on this countertop. But God, how Nanami was depraved to explore you from skin to bone. Allowing him to inch closer, feeling his breath tickle the hairs in the back of your neck. He dared not to touch you— he fucking dared. But the moment your hand couldn’t help but caress his face, inhaling your scent, stealing the air he surrenders to— his stab of burning hunger for you cannot be tamed anymore.

“God… you’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “Tell me you want this. Tell me right now, or I will stop.”

“I’ve always… wanted you, Nanami. I want you more than ever right now.”

And just from hearing those words alone, there was no spiraling lust and sexual appetite in the world more uncontrollable and possessed than Nanami's.

Now his hands are finally on you, sliding down to your waist, taking in your body he’s been dreaming of touching, dreaming of tenderizing, that it made him violent. Your ravishing beauty intoxicated his blood stream like a madman. He even tasted his own blood at one point just by the thought of you. Both of you were facing two very different tormenting battles; you had your instincts shouting at you to just say no, to just go home… But your body kept faltering.

You knew everything about this was wrong. You knew the consequences would leave you more miserable if things were to escalate more. But everything about Mr. Nanami was so… irresistible. Everything that was ever wrong about this has never, never felt this good to you.

But for Nanami, who was blinded by the horribly sweet feeling of violence and the rapacious urge to fuck you like a cheating little whore in his kitchen, couldn’t contain himself any longer that he presses his lips onto yours. Your bodies melt together like caramel, pleasure rushing and swilling. Such forbidden lust for each other was boundless; you were enthralled, exhilarated, and liberated all at once. As you feel his hand slither down your stomach and into your pants, a flashing image of your loving boyfriend came across your mind.

“Wait, wait— stop,” you stammered, having to shove him off of you. “I— I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly right now…”

Nanami panted heavily, furrowing his eyebrows from having to control his delirium. “Hey, hey. If you want, we can take this slow. I didn’t mean to get very aggressive—“

“No, no. It’s just— I don’t know if I should be doing this,” you drawled, wallowing in the guilt overtaking you it almost made you feel sick. “This isn’t right. Gojo is still waiting for me at home, I really should just be thanking you for the—“

“Y/N, hey. You’ll be fine,” he asserted as he cupped your face, having to press your waist against the counter like you were trapped. “Forget about him just for tonight. Pursuing a man like that is no use for a beautiful girl like you. You deserve to be cherished. Loved. Adored. Taken care of. And I can give all that to you in ways he can’t…”

Your chest felt warm under his and your lips were barely touching the corner of his mouth. Your inhibition had already faltered the moment you easily cave into his touch, kissing you softly just for reassurance. A slow, soft, and delicate kiss until a gradual intensity of control rushed through, infected with such fervor that you desperately cling your arms around his neck and pull him closer to deepen the kiss.

Nanami’s sly hands tug on the seam of your top, and you lift your arms up for him to slip it off and toss it on the floor. Then you proceed to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, continuing to be raptured by his kisses and writhing in the sensation of his hands all over your bare skin. It wasn’t until he gets on his knees and parts your thighs slightly open, his head meeting at the level of your navel to pull your pants off, planting kisses on your stomach and all the way down to your panties.

“Get on the counter and keep your fucking legs open,” he commanded. “I’ve been wanting to do this to you the moment I saw you…”

Hesitating just the slightest, you still hoist yourself up, feeling the cool surface fusing onto your skin. When you lay on your back, you meet Nanami’s heated gaze right between your legs, sliding your panties aside and kissing your clit. His face is now buried into your pussy, plunging and flicking his tongue while licking up your arousal, humming in amusement while doing so. All of your senses surge with such nourishment that you throw your head back and grind to the pace of his insatiable tongue.

Never has your boyfriend ate you out like this, compared to Nanami who was feasting on your cunt that you’re holding onto the hair from his scalp for your dear life. The taste is sweet but the high is oppressive, and the desire in his ribs after finally discovering how you tasted made him unhinged. As if his eroticism speaks millions of sensual nightmares, he couldn’t wait to experience the depths of your beautiful anatomy, your rufescent flesh, your liver, your heart, all those precious guts and organs that makes of you… finally becoming one with him.

You couldn’t stop squirming, hips almost stuttering like a riptide when your orgasm was about to wash over you. “Fuck, Nanami! Please, slow down— I can’t take it!”

“Why? You’re gonna come already, I can feel it,” he coaxed, thrusting his fingers faster and harder as he sucks on your clit. “Let it out all over my face, beautiful. You deserve it.”

Your legs were locked on his shoulders and your back was arched in ecstacy as you can feel an earth-shattering orgasm rippling right through you. And at this point, Nanami was as vicious as an animal than a man, driven by the primal need of ravaging into you with his hard cock. As your juices coats all over his mouth and chin, your mind falls into a haze. Seeing your soul ascend from your body for a few moments, laying right on his counter with your cunt flexing over nothing, he took the opportunity to undo his belt and free his cock, rubbing it against you.

“You did so good for me, coming all over my face like that,” he praises into your ear. Just by his words and his breathless voice was enough to make your body crave for more of him. This is, after all, exactly what you came all the way here for; fulfilling that desire you have and indulging in something so filthy behind your boyfriend’s back.

If you only knew what Nanami’s plan was for you.

The anticipation and quenching desire worsened the throbbing ache in your cunt. Sure, he made a mess of you already, but he couldn’t wait to do it again, over and over, not until he’s finished with you. Once you nodded at him, Nanami pulled you to the edge of the counter by your legs, forcing them to stay open as he slides inside you. Your breath starts to eratically hitch from the sensation of getting stretched out from his size. Penetrating into you as if you were made for his cock to fuck. Made for his sexual appetite and greedy, disturbing desires. Made for your flesh to become one with his…

Your arms cling around his neck as he fucked into you, and you were both in complete wanton. Skin, flesh, and blood— Nanami took in everything that makes of you in cold calculation. Such filthy, cloying sounds you made as you threw your head back, eyes fluttering shut as you were trapped in a bliss. His lips brushed against your open neck, panting heavily and his animalistic groans filling your ears as your sweet scent invades him tremendously. But fuck, he couldn’t resist biting onto your neck as he thrusted harder, right by your carotid artery…

“There you go, cockslut. Taking my cock like the good girl you are.”

“You’re so beautiful. Fuck, your cunt feels so good tightening around me.”

“Soon you’ll be all mines once I’m done with you.”

… All mines?

His words flew past your head when you lay down on the counter and Nanami throws your legs over your shoulders, fucking you so viciously that he kept stroking your g-spot. You were lost in a fog of lust, stuck in this grip of desire, and at this point you could feel your orgasm blossoming. Your senses blurred. Your defenses shattered. Shameless, loud moans soaked into the air and reverberated through the walls; you wouldn’t be surprised if his neighbors heard.

Nanami’s eyes were dark with rapturous desire, surrendering to his unquenched, carnal hunger for you. He could create some of the finest Japanese-Dutch cuisines across the country, but you were just so perfect as his masterpiece. As if you were a muse for him as a professional chef, he knew that you were going to be the most perfect dish that no one will ever get to taste. Your delicate sweetness dripping like nectar from your pussy, the savory, meaty flavor of your beloved flesh, everything that makes of your body and soul once devoured by him were the finest ingredients he ever needed.

He needs to consume.

He needs to tear you apart with his teeth.

He wants your blood dripping all over his chin.

He needs to eat you.

Alive.

Just when both of your orgasms washed over you so suddenly, Nanami’s teeth sank so deep into your cartoid artery. At first, your brain couldn’t register it. How you screamed so loud, so raw, that it nearly tore Nanami’s eardrum. This tremendous, torturous pain stemming from your neck was enough to have the memories of your boyfriend flashing through your mind, tears starting to well in your eyes. But with his mouth buried into your neck and forcefully pinning your arms down from squirming away, you struggled to fight every rough, jagged bite penetrating your skin. Nanami was enthralled in his long-awaited bloodgasm, coming so deep in your pussy while tasting your blood gushing all over the counter.

You tried to fight back by shoving him away with your legs, but the more his teeth sank deeper, your strength started to stagger. He was brutal. Feral. Vicious. Wild. Untamed. Starving. You tried to scream, beg for him to stop, but you choked on your own blood. You started to fall paralyzed, delicate tears trickling down your face just by looking one last time into Nanami’s darkened gaze, the dangerous flaunt in his eyes like you were nothing but a piece of meat for him to knash on. You no longer knew this primal man, seeing your own blood dripping down his chin. The despair and betrayal spreads through your limbs, knowing that you can’t fight your way out of this in your helpless state.

The pulse in your neck gradually slowed, a sign that your life was beginning to fade. All Nanami felt was sex and ecstasy as he was about to become one with you like forming a scabrous bond. He is the type of man who can never feel close enough to someone. A mere embrace, not even rough sex could ever fulfill him other than your sweet flesh and veins and blood intertwining. You were like the tenderest morsel, the sweetest delicacy he has ever savored in his years. Yearning for the taste of you in every way has never been this intoxicating, as you are now his most cherished dish, devouring you with the deepest adoration.

It would take an entire army of men to pull Nanami away from this maddening hunger for you that he would rather suffocate within your flesh. But he couldn’t ruin you much further. Not yet. Just as you slowly died on his countertop, he gave one look at you one last time, analyzing every inch and every crevice of your body like you truly were his masterpiece of fine dining. A beautiful meal he could make out of you right now, the thought of cooking and tenderizing your organs and eating you like some writhing sea-shape into his gaping maw overbeared his senses just by how delicious you tasted for him.

It was time.

It was finally time.

He cleared his counter and cleaned everything else in his kitchen, leaving your dead, gorgeous body laying there displayed for him like a buffet. A brand new knife he unsheathed from his drawer, sharpened very precisely for cutting into your skin and mutilating your limbs with no imperfections. He proceeded to slice thoroughly, just like every animal meat he’s ever touched, wanting to save you and marinate most parts of you for future meals. He started with your arms, saving the tough meat from your forearms for soups and the upper arm to slow cook like lamb shanks. Then your ribs, which is his favorite meal that he couldn’t wait to grill for barbecue some day. And then to your neck, which was perfect for hungarian goulash.

There were so many parts of you that he managed to chop up and save for BBQ steak, scotch filet, slow roasts, and soups for future recipes. And then there was the rest of you that he couldn’t wait to eat raw, like your heart. Your lungs. Your spleen. Your thighs. Your eyeballs.

But of course, there were parts of you that he couldn’t eat. The human brain may seen fatty and tasty to some, but it’s enough to kill your braincells if ever ingested. Liver is also toxic; with too much of its Vitamin A, it’s enough to weaken your body, make you nauseous, and induce general body aches and pains.

He had a plate of your fresh heart right before him, seated at his dining table. Taking his knife and fork, he chopped a fine piece for him to eat. As powerful as an orgasm fulfilling him, kindling flames of carnal ecstasy and desire, he’s never had anything so delectable that the taste of you ripped through him like wildfire. You were perfect. You tasted orgasmic. Ravaging and ravishing in your flavor that he couldn’t wait to eat the rest of you. And now that you were apart of him, together forever, nothing was going to separate this beautifully morbid union.

But it wasn’t until another wicked idea comes across his head.

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It’s only been a day since you’ve gone “missing.” You weren’t answering when your boyfriend, Gojo, tried calling you; absolutely worried that you didn’t make it home last night. But when he finally received a text sent from your phone saying to meet him back at the restaurant at a specific time, he was relieved that you were okay.

But something wasn’t right.

The restaurant was empty. Most of the chairs were stacked on top of the table and there weren’t many employees. Somehow a hostess allowed him in and directed him over to a single table in the center of the restaurant, the table candles brightly lit and a single chandelier illuminating right above him. It was quiet. Uneasy. A little bone-chilling to be the only one sitting in this restaurant all alone with a hostess. He tried calling for you, but the service appeared to be down. He looked around and was about to get up from his seat until the kitchen doors swing wide open.

A tall man with neatly styled blond hair and glasses steps out with a tray of food, dressed in a waiter attire with a white apron. Gojo halted, drawing his eyebrows together in bewilderment as the he walks over towards his table and gently sets the tray down, revealing a large bowl of hot soup that he’s never seen on the menu before.

“Apologies for the inconvenience. I believe I also haven’t properly introduced myself,” the man spoke so eloquently. “I am Nanami Kento. The owner of this restaurant.”

“Oh.” Gojo was still slightly frazzled with confusion, nervous eyes darting every corner and avoiding eye contact with Mr. Nanami just to find you. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, sir, but have you seen my girl? We’re regulars here. And where is everybody?”

“Your girlfriend is already here.” Nanami’s gaze grows cold and aloof as if the frames of his glasses grew dark, unable to recognize his eyes. “And because you two are my regulars, I decided to give you the extra special treatment and booked you for today only. Everything is on the house, including this soup. Tell me what you think.”

Gojo inhaled the bowl of soup, taking in the aroma of hints of vegetables like onions, carrots, potatoes, herbs, and other spices. But there was an unfamiliar, pungent scent that he couldn’t quite put his finger on…

“Wait, is this new? I don’t think I’ve ordered the soup from here like this before. What is it?”

“This is the Rich Liver & Potato Gratin,” Nanami deadpanned, trying his hardest to contain himself from how much of a nuisance your boyfriend is to him. “It was just added as my latest rendition to the menu and you will be the first to try.“

Gojo hummed in response, now piqued with curiosity from the slight reassurance. He took his soup spoon and delved it in the bowl, picking up a pieces of liver and the chopped potatoes. He gently blows on it before taking it to his lips and slurping it, the savory broth enveloping his body with warmth.

“Fuck. Holy shit this is amazing.” With every spoonful, his entire body relaxed, and a sense of nourishment washed over him. “What did you put in this, sir? Is this like beef broth with pork liver?”

“No, sir. It’s your girlfriend.”

Just as he swallowed a piece of the “liver” from his “soup,” a horrifying clarity washed over him after his brain thoroughly registered his sentence. At first, Gojo was in denial. He frowned. Then hefted out a weak chuckle. Then he threw his head back in maniacal laughter that his spit and tiny pieces of his food landed on the table from chewing with his mouth open. “What! I didn’t know you were this fucking funny, man. I mean, I’d say this tastes just as good as my girl. Is that what you mean?”

“No, sir. I completely made this with just her remains.”

“Wait, what?” Gojo scoffed, and Nanami tried his best to contain every fiber of his being from literally stabbing him repeatedly until that cocky grin disappears from his face. Hopefully the affect wouldn’t take too long to kick in before your dumb boyfriend’s brain could finally click.

“This soup that I presented for you… is made out of your girlfriend’s liver. Her beautiful flesh that I cut out of her precisely, all cooked and ready just for you. But do be warned…”

The aftertaste suddenly became grotesquely rich and acrid to Gojo, lingering disturbingly in his mouth with an unsettling metallic tang. It wasn’t until the horrifying realization dawned on him slowly, making him feel physically nauseous. A creeping unease settled in his stomach. He could feel the pain gradually intensify into this gnawing pain as Mr. Nanami’s words reverberated like a distant echo in his mind. Sweat started to break out on his forehead. His stomach couldn’t stop twisting and contorting erratically that he clutched on his abdomen.

“… and because of overdose of Vitamin A, the human liver is too toxic to be consumed. At least I was nice enough to share her distasteful leftovers to you,” he spoke lowly, ominous and threatening. “It was just like you wanted. Eating your beloved girlfriend if she was on our menu.”

Gojo’s numb body collapsed to the floor, the cold tiles pressing against his pale face. The Rich Liver & Potato Gratin that has never tasted so delicious to him was nothing but a cruel, insidious poison. Darkness edged into his sight and his consciousness wavered, a sign that his life was fading greatly.

Nanami stared blankly at his dead body as if he was unamused, but inside he was finally relieved that he’s no longer alive to pester him or anybody else. He had enough money to cover the whole crime scene, including the mysterious disappearance of you. Hell, even his employees under his wing would take care of the situation for him, like his hostess that cleaned up the mess on his floor and the chefs taking care of his body and getting rid of him forever.

As the weeks progressed, Nanami still made meals out of your flesh that he’s been storing in his freezer. On Saturday night he made ribs with Korean BBQ inspiration. And the moment he indulged in your ribs served sliced, rolled in romaine lettuce leaves with white rice, browned garlic slices, gochujang, along with the sweet and savory sesame and soy sauce marinade, he almost came in his pants seated at his dining table from just how beautiful you tasted.

And eventually, if he were to run out of your flesh one day, at least he got to keep your beautifully decapitated head in his freezer like a trophy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

[RIDE ANNOUNCER] Please remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop. Then collect your belongings, watch your head, and step carefully out the vehicle. Don’t forget to dispose your 4D glasses at the bins before you exit. On behalf of all of our crew, thanks for riding with us, and we hope you have a happy and memorable visit here at Horrorland!

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐎 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access. will be cross- posted on my ao3 soon.

𖤐 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @screampied @gloomiigloom @cloudi-eyes333 @isuckatmakingusernamess @aestheticgals-blog @lik0 @shintax-error @oneyedwillie @st0nedbitch @yaeil @alittletiredcry @salems-trial @kenniekenns @celcstia @thescorpiohottie @jnoppy @drowning-dee @meepmidget @chocolategirl38 @kidding3 @ggukiespace @migueloharacumslut @writtenbyawoman @iss-chromatica @zionysuss @colortheoryrocks @bigg1ow @slutforaz @unknown-borealis @doestalker @ghostlvmi @deftoneslut004 @yongi-lee @glittergagged @virgobitch00

[gladiatorcunt]

- TELL UR GIRLFRIEND | XV.

(tell ‘em, tell ‘em, tell ‘em) what it’s been with us this whole time

tags: kinktober prompt (cheating, not on reader), plus sized child of athena f!reader, unnamed random gf that gets heavily disrespected, obsessive behavior, reader’s lowk an entitled gifted kid, implied lack of boundaries, technology is allowed and older campers can live on the outskirts of camp, mutual toxicity, friends to lovers (derogatory), unprotected sex, breeding kink, arguable dub con sex & video recording, y’all are both enablers, creampie, emotional manipulation, canon divergence, southern!reader and luke hehe, implied murder, dead dove do not eat

note: pics are for aesthetic & vibes, hush.

please do no repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

You remember how this all started, getting too drunk at a party (Luke said you needed to reward yourself) and sucking him off in his room. Your big eyes boring into his as you gagged on him, your camcorder in your face, how you begged him to fuck you, to use you because he’s been so blind and you deserve it. He had to hold your head still because you were about to throw up, and you almost cried when he came in your mouth, begging for it to be in your belly, saturating your guts.

Your alcohol flooded brain wanted a baby more than you’d ever wanted anything in your entire life, even approval and admiration.

“See.” He hissed when you watched the video again in his room, before the second time, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit as you mewled, your head falling back against the couch. “That person loves me, would do anything for me, so drunk and desperate for my cock and they took it better than anyone else ever has. Like their pussy was made for me.”

You watched as Past Luke’s hands squeeze your tits through your top, holding them up for the camera. Past You drunkenly giggles, arching up into his touch. You wanted to stop watching, want to say it’s like a car accident you can’t help but stop and stare at, but you’re getting wetter as the video goes on. The rough rounds of fucking before and after the gentler ones, the random moments in between where he kissed your forehead and stroked a hand down your back to delicately cup your burning ass cheek.

The grainy footage includes him licking in between your stomach rolls and playing with your love handles, biting the fat on your thighs and spending a solid hour jiggling your ass in his hands.

Luke pushed his fingers into your entrance, watching your expression change. You had an out of body experience when two crackly low quality “I love you”s reached your ears, you saw it through Luke’s darkened eyes instead of your own.

“Gonna take that back, huh?” He whispered into your temple, shushing you when you try to shake your head, ‘friends can say I love you’. “I said it too, and no offense, but I wouldn’t have been in a staring content with your asshole while you were getting your pussy fucked if I meant it in a friendly way.”

You had agreed not to talk about it. Well, not “agreed” so much as you tripped over yourself getting dressed in the morning before he woke up. You probably would have avoided him until he hunted you down and locked you in a room with him. Now you’re watching an archive of a moment in time that should’ve never happened, but your wrap arms around the one that’s tensing with the effort of finger banging you and flicking your clit at the same time.

Luke paused the video and threw the camera Hades knows where. He grasped your chin in his newly freed hand, your pitiful sounds were muffled before you could give him any more excuses. You came around his fingers, getting his digits all sticky, then you let him fuck you again, sober, on the bed his girlfriend sleeps in when she stays over.

You’ve wondered if he ever humps the bed when he fucks her, chasing lingering remnants of your scent and your juices. If that’s what it takes to make him cum in the cheap condoms provided by the camp’s staff to the older campers. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, you may be a child of Athena but you’re stupid enough to let your taken best friend hit it raw whenever he pleases.

Which you proceed to do for the next few months.

“Come on baby, better bounce faster before she calls and asks where I am.” Luke teases, slapping your ass when your downward thrusts falter.

You look around nervously but your pussy clenches around him, you were the one that initiated after all. Climbing into his lap after he drove you home, batting your eyelashes until he unbuckled you and corralled you into over the console and into his lap. You’ve been crushing on him forever, your best friend, it’s only when he thought he could get a serious girlfriend who became more than a one night fuck that you snapped.

Morality and logic have always had a hold over you, that Athena’s child streak doing something nasty to your psyche. But she flipped out too back in the day, made women into spiders and snake monsters because she felt insulted, the apple will never fall from the sturdy branch.

“Shut up.” You hiss, digging your extra long acrylic nails (that he’s always paid for, his girlfriend has to pay for her own) into his sweaty pecs and slamming your ass down on him. “She shouldn’t be so toxic and just understand that best friends spend time together.”

“Maybe I should put her on speaker when she does, bet that’d make your lil’ crazy bitch heart happy.”

It’s not a question, because you both know it would. But for now it’s all just play, so you lean down to swap spit with Luke, sucking on his tongue as his dick fills you up raw. He doesn’t have any condoms in the car, and why would he bring them when he’s going to see his best friend? Never mind that you’ve both talked about your mutual breeding kings at length, life’s full of coincidences.

“Mmh.” He chuckles as you pull back, licking the remaining string of saliva away. “You’re wearing a new chapstick today, I like it.”

Your heart flutters, a giant butterfly with flame for wings making its forever home deep inside. Like his cock that hits that special spot every so often, you’d hit it more if you were focused but kissing Luke always gets you so messed up, you tongue fuck his mouth better than you actually fuck him. He taught you how to kiss back in middle school, couldn’t stand to see you pout from the sidelines after one too many games of spin the bottle.

You raise your hips and let his length slide out of you until only the tip remains, doing a few kegel exercises on it and giggling when you hear a throaty groan. You lean back and trail your hands up to cup his face, stroking the apple of his cheeks with a tender lover’s touch. His curls get their fair share of attention too, you curl your fingers around the ones hanging above his eyes.

“How bad do you want it?” Whispered into his open mouth, holding the world in your hands because he’s all you have and you’ll be damned to Tartarus if you’re not all he has too. “Want to give it to you so bad, always have, but this dick’s gonna be all mine or it’ll be nobody’s.”

You hump him as much as you can with his dick inside you, making sure he can every plush curve on your body mold to his shape. If you look down and squint you can see the dark spots on his pants, you’re staining him but the friction of the fabric against your lips only drives you to do it more. Your thighs fan out as you settle all your weight down on him and Luke tightens his grip so you can’t change your mind later.

Will you be embarrassed as hell when post orgasm clarity hits? Absolutely, but the way Luke’s pupils expand and his previously casual grip tightens on your wide hips to the point of pain make it worth it right now. He doesn’t answer quickly enough so you take his dick to the hilt again and just sit there, clenching around him in consistent bursts, giving him a second heartbeat.

“Fuck!” He hisses, he wishes he could fuck up into you without caring about you like he does his girlfriend. “You know how much I need it, stop playing, wouldn’t do the worst shit in the world just to keep you happy if I didn’t. How many more times do I have to say that?”

Your cheeks heat up and a spark lights in your eyes as you swiftly bring him into a kiss, gentle at first until you reach behind yourself to push his hands down to your ass. You start to roll your hips back into him, encouraging to play with you a little. These are the only times where you can let go and stop focusing on being so perfect.

Maybe you’re a bad person but that doesn’t really matter when you’ll always have someone in your ear and your holes saying the opposite.

Luke groans into the kiss and deepens it, squeezing the flesh of your ass until it bulges out between his fingers, pushing your jean shorts down to have easier access. His little cowboy, you’re so fucking cute his dick’s throbbing in your walls, you break away to kiss down to thick base of his neck because if you keep making out you’re gonna squirt and he’ll have to replace the seats again.

Soju combined with an obsessive years-long crush is a recipe for disaster, there are lingering notes of peach in the air as you start bouncing again. You both groan in unison, you swivel your hips and dig your knees into his car seat, bracketing his hips.

Your teeth threaten to sink into his throat but you can never summon up the will to do it, the image of your crooked teeth creating a unique jagged-blunt brand in his skin does more for you than the actual act. It’s all about the implication, the teasing, telling yourselves you’re toeing the line when your sticky bodies are pressed so close together the distance between atoms spans for miles.

Luke slaps your cheeks, lobbing them in his hands like they’re stress balls and not part of your body, he can tell that your thighs are wobbling already so he takes over without the usual smug banter and impales you on his girth himself. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so much better than hers, what the fuck- just like that, baby- I’d kill for this, for the chance to pound any part of you.”

You haven’t let him in your ass yet, you’re saving that for when you’re pushed far enough. You can picture it now, cooing “Bless your heart.” into the phone as her boyfriend fucks your asshole so hard it nearly tears. You’d keep her on the line while he kisses your puffy red rim better, turning up the volume so her heartbroken ravings compete with Luke’s slurping sounds, like you’re the best and most heart healthy bowl of soup he’s ever had.

You pant into the leather headrest, just about under his ear lobe, you let him prove his strength by manhandling your curves and working your pussy on his dick to his liking by grabbing your ass. You used to sneak into his cabin dorm and watch him use a fleshlight, the same way he’s using you now, muscle memory but you get some sweet chaste kisses littered on your shoulders and the tops of your arms.

“Give me something to remember you by.” You whisper into the corner of his jawline, because if you try to speak any louder your voice will turn into a mess of whines and mewls, you do not beg. “It’s getting cold out, I could really use a gift to keep warm, you know I run chilly.”

Luke grits his teeth but you can already feel him speeding up your thrusts, the wet smacks of your juices providing the soundtrack to another episode in your affair. What could that woman possibly give him when you’re scientifically and comparably better? From the sounds and looks of things, your pussy’s top notch and you’d be a valuable asset in his obvious schemes.

Your best friend of all people knows better than to think you’re anywhere close to stupid (other then telling him to axe the protection when you fuck), but you love him and his cock so much that you’d follow him off the ends of the earth.

Drops of his cum leak out onto the pavement as you stumble out of his car, but Luke’s a gentleman at the end of the day so he leads you inside and when you wake up there’s a new winter scarf wrapped up in a box with a black bow on your silk pillow.

The note on top says he’ll be late tonight.

[pennylanewrites]

[used to be my girl] levi ackerman x f!reader

inspired by used to be my girl by the last shadow puppets

cw + what to expect: cheating, alcohol consumption, smoking, unprotected sex, oral (f! receiving), creampie, levi is mean and a tease, marking, missionary and lotus position

find part two here

you loved your partner, erwin. you really did, but god, he was so…vanilla. and you never came with him.

only when you were thinking of your ex instead.

you hated it so much, but sex with levi was so good. he knew exactly where to touch you, kiss you, what position made you scream his name. and you needed to feel that way again so, so bad.

but you and levi were long over. he broke up with you when you became a squad leader, never really explaining why. but you knew well he was just scared. levi had lost too many people in his life, that any new ones he just pushed away. you never tried reasoning with him, you knew it would fall on deaf ears anyway.

and then, you and erwin smith became much, much closer than before. all those late nights in his office, discussing tactics and helping him with mountains of paperwork brought you closer, and closer, until you were sharing secret kisses in dim-lit hallways, until he changed the squad positions to have you close to him, until he fell down on one knee two years later and asked you to marry him when everything was over. of course you said yes, and you were beaming and showing off that tiny diamond on your finger, until everything went to shit.

hange had warned you that erwin is in love with his job. you just never knew it would get so bad, to the point he came to sleep in your shared bed once every two weeks, only pecked your lips in a rush when you asked, only fucked you once in a full moon.

you were still in love with levi ackerman. and now you were standing at the annual gala for the survey corps, in a long blue gown, staring your ex boyfriend up and down. your table was filled with wine glasses, and someone would think you had company, but you were all alone since the start of the event. levi was listening to hange babbling about whatever, his pink lips in contact with a whiskey glass every few seconds.

god, you could eat him up right then and there.

what am i thinking? you brought your cold palm against your burning cheek, opting to look for your fiancé instead. he was nowhere to be found, of course. a gala basically in his honour and he was gone.

your eyes fell on levi again. he was wearing a black button-down, sleeves rolled up and black pants. so simple, but so, delicious.

the glass almost fell from your hand when he locked eyes with you.

oh god, he’s coming. make a turn, make a turn, don’t-

“hey, levi.” you gave a half embrace and kissed his cheek, your cheap lipstick leaving a faint red mark right on his cheekbone.

“you look beautiful.” was all he said. “and drunk.”

“i’m not drunk,” you scoffed, “this is my second drink.”

“what, in the last ten minutes?” he motioned to the table and your cheeks turned bright red. “where’s your husband?” his tongue was bitter with sarcasm.

“he’s not my husband. and i don’t know.” you mumbled, embarrassed. what kind of fiancée doesn’t know where her partner is?

“want to get some air?” you only nodded, following him out of the main hall and to a bench overlooking the walls. it was a starry night, the moon was full and you felt like a teenager again. just like you were when you and levi first met.

you watched intently as his hand reached in his pocket for a packet of slim cigarettes. he sighed when he realised his lighter was nowhere to be found, but you came quickly to his rescue. opening your purse, you took out a silver lighter, the initials L.A engraved on the side in tiny letters. levi was surprised you still had that, his eyes never leaving that stupid rock on your ring finger as he let you light his cigarette. he offered you one as well, now his turn to light it for you. your eyes met his. were you wrong to think they were full of longing? was he wrong to think yours were filled with regret?

“don’t tell him i’m smoking.”

“dear husband doesn’t allow it?” you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“he just hates it.”

“it’s a good thing he doesn’t kiss you then. he won’t smell it on your breath.” you turned your head surprised. how did he know?

“everyone knows, y/n.” he replied without you even having to ask. you sighed, staring at the burning cigarette in your hand.

“great. the survey corps’ walking anecdote, ladies and gentlemen.” you bowed to an invisible audience, leaning back on the bench with a frustrated sigh.

“what are you even doing with him?”

“it’s none of your business.”

“it is when i hear you moaning in the supply closet every night.” you let out a surprised gasp. how did he say these things so freely?

“the only person masturbating around cleaning products could be you, levi.”

“then who’s that moaning my name in there? every single night. at 2 o’clock sharp.” his voice came out in a whisper, lips touching your ear as he spoke. shivers ran down your spine and your eyes were burning with guilty tears.

“sounds like you have a secret admirer.”

“sounds like erwin can’t make you cum.”

“shut up!” you got up, looking out in the distance. two familiar arms snaked around your waist, locking against your lower stomach. wet lips came in contact with your neck, and you wanted to pull away so bad. to leave, run to your fiancé and kiss him.

but you couldn’t. and you didn’t.

because it was levi you were in love with.

“levi,” you whimpered and he swore his knees would give right then and there.

“shh. let me have this, let you have this.” he was kissing that spot right behind your ear, his hands roaming your body over your dress.

“someone could see us, levi.” you warned him.

“bet it would turn you on.” fuck, he knew what he was doing. “my room. ten minutes.”

levi went around the building and you went back into the main hall, falling right into erwin’s arms.

“i’ve been looking all over for you.” he scanned your face with worried eyes. “you look…”

“i can feel a migraine starting, erwin. i was just out getting some air.”

“okay, go get some sleep, alright? i’ll be in soon.” your heart skipped a beat.

“no, have fun tonight. you deserve it.” you reached up and kissed his lips softly, tears brimming your eyes.

you practically sprinted to levi’s room, head spinning and heart pounding like crazy. you knocked on the door and levi opened in mere seconds, as if he was standing right behind it waiting for you.

“you took too long.” he took you in his embrace, letting his forehead touch yours as you shut the door behind you.

“i ran into erwin.” you bit your bottom lip when levi showed the slightest hint of annoyance. he pushed you against the door, protecting the back of your head with his hand.

“yeah? did you tell him you’re gonna fuck your ex?”

“n-no.”

“you should have. because he’ll take one look at you tomorrow and he’s going to know.” his lips were attached on your neck, your jaw, your collarbone. god, you missed his touch. you missed needing him.

“levi,”

“what?” his voice didn’t show, but he was worried. scared you’ll regret this and leave, run off to erwin and tell him everything.

“kiss me, please.” you didn’t have to ask a second time, because his lips were slamming against yours, and he was so, so hungry. he lowered his body and his hands were around your thighs. you let him lift you up, wrapping your legs around his torso, letting you take him into the bedroom. two candles lit the room up, and you were hit with memories as soon as he dropped you on the mattress.

“take that off.” he instructed and you began unzipping your dress, but he stopped you. “i meant that.” he pointed at your finger. you didn’t give it a second thought, placing the ring in your purse and throwing it on the floor. “now that.” he pointed at your dress as he undressed himself too. you were too focused on the tricks the flame played on his chiselled abs, his strong veiny arms and muscular thighs.

god, he looked like a greek statue.

“can’t even do that yourself?” he took matters into his own hands, slowly taking your dress off before pushing you down again. he fell on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips and leaned down to kiss you. your lips were locked in place perfectly, like the last two pieces of a puzzle you couldn’t finish.

you took your bra off and let it fall on the floor with the rest of your clothes. levi’s lips latched onto your nipple, his fingers rolling the other one. you arched your back off the bed, moaning softly in his ear. his erection hit against your panties and suddenly you were going crazy.

you needed him. now, and forever. you rolled your hips against him as he kissed your body hungrily, watched him as he slid down until his teeth caught the bow on your underwear. he took them off as quick as he could.

“tell me, does he do this?” he asked, leaving a kiss on your clit. god, you were embarrassingly wet.

“he does…” you looked away, but levi reached your jaw with his hand and made you stare at him.

“but?”

“he doesn’t know where to touch me.” you mumbled.

“does he touch you here?” you felt the pads of his fingers come in contact with the top of your clit. you nodded no. “here?” he asked, slowly pulling his fingers down, to that spot that made your stomach tighten.

“no.”

“that idiot doesn’t know what he’s missing then.” was the last thing levi said before his tongue slipped into your folds. your hand fell on his head, as if out of instinct, and you pulled on his perfectly styled hair, guiding him right where you wanted him. a row of fuck, shit, oh god came out of your mouth. how long has it been since you felt this way? your fingers didn’t do even half of what levi was doing to you right now.

“levi, i’m coming.” you warned and he looked up at you as he added two fingers to the mixture, entering your slick cunt. you couldn’t look away from those mesmerising gray eyes as you moaned in pleasure and that knot in your stomach came undone. levi slowed down until he was off your pussy completely, now coming up to you again.

“has he ever made you this wet?” he kissed you, making you taste your juices mixed with his saliva.

“never.” you were telling the truth. levi was the only man who could ever do this to you. he was like magic.

“can i fuck you?”

“yes, please.” you whined when levi slapped his cock against your clit and you looked up at him through eyelashes painted black, silently begging for him to fuck you. he didn’t wait any longer to enter your cunt, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he adjusted your legs around his ass and leaned down, chests touching, to kiss you.

“you can’t even kiss me?” he teased. how could you? you were a moaning mess, getting louder with every harsh, slow thrust. even though erwin was much bigger than him, levi filled you up perfectly in every way.

he was made for you.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sucking on his neck and those pretty collarbones to muffle your moan. leaning back, you admired the purple and red marks before smiling at him. levi could melt right then and there.

he picked up the pace, fucking you fast into the mattress.

“please, please, please!”

“what, coming again?” he chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from your eye. “how long has it been, y/n? since someone made you come?”

“too-too long.” you breathed out.

“two years? two and a half?” you knew what he was doing. trying to make you admit he was the last man to make you orgasm.

“oh god, i’m coming!” your walls clenched around his dick, making him moan in pleasure. “levi, levi hold me.”

“i’m holding you.”

“more.” you needed his arms around you. you needed to become one again.

levi pulled you up and into his lap and you wrapped your legs around his torso, arms roaming his back, scratching it. he held you tight, slamming you up and down his cock until you were coming again, and again…

“missed this pussy,” he whined when he felt you clenching again, “missed your claws on my back.”

“give me all of it, levi.” you whispered in his ear and he lifted you up, hips bucking into the back of your thighs as he reached that spot he knew drove you mad. he was close, you could tell. oh god, you didn’t want this to end.

“fuck, i’m gonna-”

“inside me.” you didn’t let him finish. you wanted to feel all of him so bad.

“does erwin cum inside?”

“he doesn’t. he thinks it’s filthy.”

“good. this pussy’s…” his sentence was cut short with a groan and you felt a new, familiar warmth inside you, as he brought you down to fit all of his length, “all mine.” he whispered.

out of breath, you stared at each other. you didn’t want him to pull out. it would all become too real. but your juices combined were making a mess on his lap, so you slowly got up, heading for the bathroom. levi was hot on your heels, accepting the towel you took out for him. you looked at him through the mirror with a sad smile and he returned a serious gaze.

“don’t say this was a mistake.” he blurted out when you opened your mouth to speak. “don’t say anything.” he spun you around and hugged you tight. you could feel his warm breath on your neck, his fingers leaving white marks where he held you, his toes touching yours.

“i have to go.” your voice was shaky. tears fell down your cheeks and dropped on levi’s back, startling him. he pushed you softly and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

“stay.”

“i can’t. i’m sorry.” you kissed his cheek and left. levi didn’t come into the bedroom. he waited for you to get dressed, and only when he heard the front door did he go into the room.

he spotted your bag, forgotten on the floor. with a sigh he took it, sat on the bed and opened it. lipstick, his lighter, cigarettes. your engagement ring. he took it in his hand, inspecting it against the light. he leaned to open the top nightstand drawer, a red slick wooden box the only thing inside it. he opened it, comparing the two rings.

“mine’s better. cheap piece of shit.”

[honeyspawn]

I feel like we don't talk enough about how tragic Alice's fear of being cheated on in Watcher World is, especially in the context of her home life.

Bill revealed in Forever and Always that the reason he and his ex-wife got divorced is because she was having an affair and left him for her affair partner. Alice is living in an environment where her entire world was ripped apart by infidelity, and she spends the majority of the month with the one who cheated. What's worse is that Alice all but directly says that she blames Bill for this. She thinks that her mom cheating on her dad is her dad's fault. Likewise, she thinks that if Deb cheated on her (which I fully don't think she would do btw, I think it was a vision of the park), it would be her own fault. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Bill's ex-wife was shit-talking him to Alice and blaming him for her infidelity. Alice has internalized that if your partner cheats on you, you were the one who wasn't attentive or committed enough to the relationship, which is just tragic. Poor Alice.

[frownyalfred]

Are Cheating Clark: this grabbed my brain and won’t let go, but Lois is a very good, badass reporter. She’s been to war zones, and to military camps. Once she realizes what’s going on (because she’s too smart to not figure it out), she sits Clark down and shows him just how much homoerotic subtext/implications there are through history between soldiers/warriors.

“There’s no shame in finding something special with someone who fights along beside you, Clark. Honestly, I expected it sooner. Am I a little upset that your biology didn’t pick me? Yeah, sure. But it’s not anything I can control, or you. I’ll get over it. It just means you’re human after all.”

She puts her hands on her hips and stares down one of the most powerful beings on her planet.

“If you fuck anyone else, though, I will NOT be happy.”

Lois Lane giving her husband the most frightening, overly-detailed hall pass of all time is SO funny to me, even though it's angsty. Like, alright, you get a pass this ONE time because your Kryptonian cells say you need to fuck your best friend! But if your little cells keep saying you need to fuck the rest of your friends, I will carve them out of you with Bruce's Kryptonite :)

Girlbossing and managing her husband's affair, that's absolutely Lois.

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOING DOWN || 3,4 k

Joel Miller x f!reader | Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: you have a hot boyfriend and a hot ex who’s still obsessed with you. Why not get the best of both worlds?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, darkish!reader, toxic!reader, boyfriend!Joel, ex who desperately wants you back!Frankie, soft!Frankie, infidelity (reader’s), praise kink, size kink, unprotected piv, creampie, handjob, m!oral, pussy eating, cum eating, f!masturbation, stalking (reader loves it), voyeurism, exhibitionism, swearing, dirty talk, pet names princesa-princess, mi amor- my love. Reader wears a dress. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I have no excuse for this one. I don’t know why I look at our baby Frankie and want to do all this. I’m not sorry though, it’s hot to me and also fictional😉 the title’s inspired by the song “I’m goin’ down” by Mary J. Blige and Frankie’s special talent😏 Happy Frankie Friday, my loves!💖

Written for @burntheedges ‘s roll-a-trope challenge - my trope was Exes. Thank you for the fun event, Kate❤️ Kisses to wonderful @milla-frenchy for beta-ing this filth😘 dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more Frankie - The Hoodie

You are looking out of the window at the night street, illuminated by a few golden lights, when you feel Joel’s heavy hands on your hips and then his lips plant a kiss on your neck from behind.

“Let’s go to bed,” he mumbles, his gruff voice coated with lust.

“No, fuck me right here.”

He smiles against your neck.

“Really? Want the neighbors to see us, dirty girl?”

“Yeah. Neighbors,” you smirk, not tearing your eyes from the car parked outside your apartment building. Your ex’s Pickup.

Joel pierces you with his big stiff cock and before you start moaning like a whore, you open the window a little so you two can not only be visible, but also perfectly heard from the street. Cool autumn air hits your heated face and your nipples get hard under your thin dress.

"Oh yeah, Joel! Harder!" you cry out, reveling in the way he's dragging his huge manhood in and out your channel. You're taking it like a good girl-always wet and tight for your boyfriend's cock.

Your fingers swiftly pull down your neckline, exposing your bouncing tits to whoever might look through your window. And you're sure that someone is looking.

Not knowing about your sick game, Joel is grunting loudly, thrusting deep and hard into you, your back flush with his broad chest. He’s rubbing his stubble against your neck, then your cheek until you turn your face to him and your lips lock in a sloppy and passionate kiss, while he’s holding you close, drawing pleasure from your tight pussy.

Joel’s hand snakes under your dress and having found your naked cunt, begins swirling your clit between two thick fingers. You part from his mouth, whimpering loudly.

“Yeah, baby! Let ‘em hear what a slut you are for me. Getting fucked in front of the whole neighborhood.”

His words push you over the edge and you come on his cock, crying out from pleasure. You don’t fake it. There is no need. He is that good.

Joel follows you soon and shoots his thick warm cum into your pulsating core. When he stills and pulls out, you hastily fix your dress and grab your dog’s leash.

“I’ll walk Tom.” You kiss Joel with tongue and leave the apartment, leaking your boyfriend’s load with every move.

When you step out into the night, you walk along the street a few meters and tie your dog to a street pole. On your legs, trembling from the hard orgasm, you saunter to your ex’s truck.

The passenger door is already open for you when you reach it and you get in, feeling cold air lap at your pussy, coated in Joel’s cum.

A pair of beautiful kicked puppy eyes greet you there and you turn slightly in your seat to see your ex better in the dark car.

Frankie’s wearing a denim shirt, dark blue jeans and his favorite baseball cap that you always hated for hiding his gorgeous curls. He looks the same as the day you left him. Maybe the bags under his eyes are darker but it could be the poor lighting at fault.

“What are you doing here, Frankie?” Your voice is soft and calm, with a pinch of sadness thrown in for his sake.

The man nervously fixes his cap and glances at you from the side, like a guilty dog. He clears his throat and lies,

“ ‘m checking on you.”

His velvety voice caresses your ear, it’s soft like everything about his character. He starts chewing on his lip while his eyes are staring into the darkness ahead of him.

“No, you’re stalking me, baby. I see your Pickup everywhere I go. Near my work last week. I spotted you at the bar today. And now you’re here… spying on me through the window.”

He proves that he watched your little show when he spreads his thighs wider and bucks his hips, unwillingly attracting your attention to his big bulge. You both are quiet for a few moments.

“I miss you,” he finally admits, turning to you. His eyes are sad and sappy and you should feel sorry, bad or at least sympathetic but the overwhelming feeling in your heart is a triumph. He’s not over you. You’re the best he’s ever had and he desperately wants you back.

You’ve been feeling elated lately when you noticed Frankie stalking you. It’s been fun playing with him and you don’t plan on stopping. You pull your brows together and coo,

“I understand, baby, but you can’t keep coming here. Joel’s a jealous type. I don’t want any problems.”

While you’re talking, Frankie’s nodding along, eyes downcast. You place your hand on his shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. His own big paw flies to yours and after bringing it to his mouth, he presses his lips to your palm. Your heart flutters at his need for you and your pussy tingles when you remember the way his plush lips were leaving kisses all over your body weeks ago.

“Baby,” you breathe out and he looks at you, not letting go of your hand. You see tears in his eyes, not enough to spill but enough to fuel up your ego. His eyes are so pretty like that, wet lashes and glossy chocolatey irises.

“Aww, Frankie,” you coo and open your arms to him. He rushes to you as if you’re his lifeline, wrapping his big strong arms around your torso and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You’re hugging him back, trying not to suffocate in his steel embrace and rubbing his muscular broad back. Frankie’s as big as Joel, both are much bigger than you, and warmth spreads deep in your core when his scent envelops you just like his body.

You smile when you notice him still wearing your favorite cologne.

Soon your body craves something more than just a hug so your lips part and a soft whimper escapes your mouth. You know well that your pretty noises always make him wild.

Your ex reacts immediately and you feel an open mouth kiss on your neck.

“Frankie.” Your tone is scolding yet fake and you sigh deeply, brushing his chest with your barely covered breasts. Your ex grumbles at the sensation and then whispers, his voice already strained with lust.

“I miss you so much.”

You hug him tighter and feel his hot breath on your cleavage when he leans lower to plant another kiss on your collarbone. His cap slides off his head and falls on the floor but he doesn’t care. Looking down at his beautiful dark curls you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails and Frankie almost roars against your chest. His arms pull you closer to him, even though your torso is already flush with his. He slightly lifts you off the seat and you tug at his hair in warning, steel in your tone.

“Put me down, Frankie.”

He listens to you like he always does but your roughness earns another loud groan from him. You smile, imagining how hard his cock must be now.

Frankie leaves soft kisses on your clothed chest, your belly and soon his head is resting on your lap, while his arms are wrapped around your hips as if he’s scared you’ll float away.

You’re stroking his head, marveling at the silky waves of his hair, shining even in the dim light, and slightly tilt your hips up when his prominent nose pokes your mound through the thin fabric of your dress. As if thinking about the same thing, Frankie breathes in full lungs of your arousal and a guttural moan vibrates against your covered pussy.

“I miss her, mi amor,” you barely hear him mumble and you sigh. Recently satiated by Joels’s pounding, your core gets reignited with sticky desire and you bite your lip, your dark gaze sliding over his sexy shoulders and his head, with his face hidden. You part your legs just slightly, letting him closer to your needy pussy.

Like a dog sniffing out his favorite treat, Frankie’s nuzzling your lap, and his lips and nose are brushing against your thighs, your lower belly, your cunt through the fabric.

You gasp when his fingers dig into your soft hips a bit too hard and he hastily relaxes his grip and looks up at you.

“Sorry, princesa.” His blown out eyes are filled with guilt and want and you give him a smile, cupping his scruffy cheek.

“It’s ok, baby, just be careful with me, ‘k? No marks.”

“Yes, yes, of course, mi amor,” he murmurs, returning his head back onto your lap.

After a couple of minutes in his arms, the fire in your core morphs into an ache and you squirm under him with impatience.

“I should go, Frankie. Joel’s gonna worry.”

“No, please,” he almost whines, hugging you tighter. “I—,” he stumbles.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I —? Can I see her?”

He’s staring up at you and you tilt your head to the side, faking confusion.

“Who?”

He knows that you understand but you need him to say it. So he plays by your rules. Like he always does.

“Can I see your beautiful pussy?” He sits up, facing you, his huge body squeezed in between the wheel and his seat. His bulge looks even more prominent now and you gush at the thought that he must be leaking into his boxers.

“Oh, Frankie, baby, you know I have a boyfriend. I can’t.”

His pleading eyes are fixed on you as he begs,

“Please, mi amor, just a look. I miss her so much. I miss you. Please.”

With another fake sigh you glance out of the window to check the surroundings, and after finding the street empty, you turn back to him.

“Ok, just for a second. Get in the back.”

“Thank you, mi amor,” he mumbles, hurrying out of the truck.

You squeeze between the front seats and sit down, turning to Frankie as he joins you at the back of the car. Your ex impatiently grabs the hem of your dress but you stop him.

“No one should know about this, understand?”

Frankie nods eagerly, mumbling yes’s like a junkie before getting a hit of his drug and you let him lift your dress and expose your naked pussy.

Your hands clutch the dress against your waist, and your legs are pressed together but it’s evident how wet you’re - your folds shine with Joel’s cum and your slick arousal.

Frankie’s breath hitches and his broad chest expands, straining his shirt.

“Beautiful,” he praises as his hand flies to the apex of your thighs.

“Nah-ah”, you grab his big paw midair and place it on top of your thigh.

“No touching. You wanted to look, right?”

“Yeah,” Frankie halfheartedly agrees, furrowed brows showing his discontent. “Then at least open your legs, princesa. Need to see her better.”

You try to contain your excitement as you tut at your ex,

“You’re so naughty, baby.”

You slowly part your thighs wide enough for your pussy to bloom in front of his hungry eyes.

Frankie’s mouth goes slack and his gaze clouds up when he sees your glistening pussy lips, puffy clit and your inviting hole. You shift a little on the seat, leaving wetness on the leather, and when you clench your walls in anticipation, you both see a little bit of pearly white liquid slide out of your entrance.

“Is this…?” Frankie mumbles, not tearing his eyes off your recently used cunt.

“Yeah. I know you’ve been watching Joel fuck me so don’t pretend that you’re surprised. My pussy’s full of his cum,” you say with defiance and wait for his reaction.

Frankie’s softly growls and his hand on your thigh contracts into a fist.

“Shhh, big boy,” you purr, bringing your fingers to your pussy. You gather some of Joel’s seed, leaking from your hole, and spread the creamy juices over your hardened clit. You rub yourself a few times and when a soft moan escapes your lips, Frankie echoes you.

“Feels so good,” you admit and begin pleasuring yourself in front of your ex.

“Jesus— fuck,” Frankie mumbles. His eyes are obsidian, forehead glistening with sweat with a few wet curls stuck to it. With his gaze tormented and pained, he reaches down to his belt.

“What are you doing, baby?” you ask, pausing your ministrations.

Frankie freezes and replies, stumbling over his words,

“I need — need to take my dick out. It hurts.”

“Ok, Frankie.” He hastily unzips his jeans when you add, “But don’t touch it.”

Frankie groans but then sighs with relief when he pulls the waistband of his boxers down, tucks it under his balls and his cock springs free. It hits his shirt and leaves a dark wet spot.

His member is throbbing, the dark pink tip, glossy and fat, is oozing his clear need for you and you lick your lips, enticing the man even more.

Frankie follows your orders and lets his cock bob and drip pre-fuck juice all over his balls and jeans while you moan again, tracing your sopping hole.

Your ex rubs his cheek, focused on the place he desperately wants to claim with his tongue and cock and croaks after wetting his plush lips,

“Let me kiss her, mi amor.”

Bingo.

That’s what you wanted as soon as you saw him at the bar today. If you cared to admit maybe you already dreamed about it when you noticed him stalking you last week. But what’s a prize without a game? Now it feels extra special.

With a little smile, you throw off your shoe and plant your bare foot on the seat, opening your thighs wider for him.

“You gonna taste another man’s cum on my pussy? just to kiss her?”

Frankie’s eyes snap up to yours and you see his defeat, his despair, his love in their depths.

He nods silently.

“Aww, you’re so sweet,” you coo. “Ok, baby, go ahead.”

With a grunt Frankie bends down, slowly adjusting his position between your legs so it’s comfortable for you, and when his soft warm lips kiss your cold cunt, you flutter your eyes shut with a pleased mewl.

Frankie’s always been the best at pussy eating. Joel often goes down on you but it’s different. He demands your ecstasy, claims your pussy with his mouth, makes you scream when his rough tongue impatiently rubs at your clit. His movements say ‘Give me’ while he’s eating you out.

But Frankie. He’s whispering “Take it”. Take your time, take your bliss, take my lips and tongue and use them, let yourself drown in pleasure. He laps at you softly and languidly, licking your pussy like it’s the most delicate flower, the most delicious fruit.

You grab your phone out of your pocket and text Joel that you met a friend by accident and need to catch up.

Frankie doesn’t see any of it, he’s gone, fully concentrated on pleasuring your soft cunt. His hands are gently holding your thighs apart, his face buried in your pussy.

“How’s she?” you whisper, raking your fingers through his silky curls and tugging on them slightly to get his attention when he doesn’t respond right away.

“I taste him on you,” Frankie grumbles, parting from your sex, “‘m gonna get it off you.”

He returns to work, making out with your folds and sucking the other man’s cum off your clit and you already feel yourself close to unraveling.

“Yes, like that, baby. My pussy misses you.”

You feel Frankie smile against your cunt before he begins stroking your clit with his tongue again and again until you cry out his name into your hand, while your hole clamps around nothing, walls contract and release another portion of Joel’s thick load.

Trembling from the orgasm that’s rippling through your body, you watch Frankie lap at your entrance, drinking the runaway seed and your slick, prolonging your shattering climax with this depraved act.

He doesn’t stop kissing your pussy until you get overstimulated and try to close your legs.

“Did so good for me, Frankie,” you murmur through heavy breaths.

“Thank you, mi amor,” your ex gruffs, sitting up, his face blushed, the gaze hazy and drunk on you.

He’s shivering from the arousal, his engorged cock generously leaking precum, and you take mercy on the man.

You scoot closer to him, wrap your hand around his hot cock and start slowly pumping it. It’s soaked with his juices so your palm slides easily over his hard length but to make him absolutely wild you gather some slick off your cunt and rub the underside of his cock where his tip meets the shaft with your wet thumb.

Frankie moans like a needy slut and in a second the first rope of cum shoots out of his slit.

You hastily lower your head, take the head between your lips and start drinking his load as he’s feeding it to you, jerking and thrusting his hips up, while your hand is gliding over his shaft.

You swallow everything to the last drop and lick it all over, cleaning his cock and earning a jerk of overstimulation from your ex. Then you sit up, wiping your mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

“Fuck, princesa, I love you,” Frankie breathes out falling onto the backrest, his cock softening but still standing at attention. You smile at his confession and your hunger finally seems satisfied.

You begin fixing your clothes and he watches you for a few seconds before tucking his cock into his jeans and then shifting closer to you. He gets into your space and you feel his warm hand pressed to your lower back. His huge frame is looming over you and you look up into his chocolaty eyes. They seem sad again.

“I want you back, mi amor—I... I need you.”

You sigh deeply and shake your head, taking his big hand in yours.

“You know it’s over, Frankie. I’m sorry, but I’m with Joel now.”

“Why? Why can’t you be with me? Why is he better?” He asks, furrowing his brows and leaning even closer to you.

“Baby,” you whine, averting your gaze from his puppy eyes and tracing hearts on his hand. “We talked about it. He’s …he’s like whiskey, he’s rough and heady and… you’re like hot chocolate, Frankie. You’re sweet but you’re too saccharine for me.”

“I can get rough with you, princesa.”

You giggle and shake your head.

“It’s not who you are, baby. And it’s ok. Someone will love you for it one day.”

You hear him sniff before he yanks his hand away from yours.

You know you should leave, break it off once and for all but the sick, mean, greedy side of your soul wants to pull him back as soon as you have pushed him away.

“Frankie,” you purr and grab his arm as he’s about to get out of the car. A slight touch from you is all it takes to stop him and he turns to you, his eyes glossy, his expression defeated.

You get closer to him and take his face between your hands. To kiss him goodbye. To poison him more.

He falls into the kiss head first, embracing you tightly, pressing his torso to yours so close it’s difficult to breathe.

You both moan against each other’s lips and you pull on his hair with passion and possessiveness. His tongue is licking into your mouth and you’re tasting yourself, sensing a faint trace of Joel’s cum. It’s so sick and twisted that another surge of arousal burns your core.

You make out for some time until you part from his lips.

“I should go, Frankie,” you whisper, snaking out of his embrace.

Frankie’s arms fall and he nods, looking lost and inebriated. You use this moment to hastily get out of his car.

“Bye, baby,” you chirp, smiling at him, but before you close the door he wakes up from the trance and calls for you.

“I won’t stop, mi amor,” he admits with determination in his shaky voice. “I’m gonna keep coming. I need you.”

“I know,” you say with a fake sigh and close the door.

You’re walking to get Tom, feeling Frankie’s eyes on your back, and trying to calm down, you bite your lip, but the excitement overwhelms you and soon a triumphant smile spreads across your face.

Thank you for reading!💖

MASTERLIST || more Frankie- The Hoodie

tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Tagging lovelies who showed interest in my Wip post @sawymredfox @604to647 @thundermartini @bonezone44 @casa-boiardi

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Title: No Closer Could I Be To God

Pairing: Post-outbreak!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary:

The closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.

Dear Reader:

This one is for the homies with religious trauma. If you enjoy this little fic, please comment or reblog! Title art is "Through Cataclysm" by Andreas Birath (b. 1974).

Warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), infidelity, no use of y/n, no reader description or age, single POV - Joel, post-outbreak Jackson, heavy religious themes and imagery, unprotected p in v, oral sex - f receiving, dirty talk, pet names, begging.

Joel Miller gave up on the notion of a benevolent god around the time the light faded from his daughter’s eyes and he was left to hold her lifeless body. Since then, he’s only seen glimpses of that former goodness in the world — in Tess and the way she fought tooth and nail for their survival and in Ellie, once she quit being such a pain in the ass.

But perhaps the closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.

“Joel!” You cry out, squirming beneath his tight grip. He’s got you laid out on the work bench, thighs hugging his head as he licks and sucks your clit until you’re singing his praises. The storage shed is hot, sweat gathering at his neck and beading at his temple and making his fingers slip against your damp skin.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth away from your center and licking his lips to gather every drop of you from his flesh. “You’re fuckin’ loud today.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, voice breathy as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. “It’s been too long.”

“I know,” Joel agrees, standing up and leaning forward to steal a kiss, your hot mouth opening immediately for his tongue to explore. You taste like shitty instant coffee and mint, his favorite flavor as long as you're the source. “‘M sorry.”

Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scratching against his scalp. He drags his lips across your jaw, down your neck, sinking his teeth briefly against your pulse point to make you shiver.

The modest dress you’re wearing is rucked up around your waist and Joel reaches down to slip his fingers past the elastic of your underwear, sinking two digits inside of you and groaning at how tight you are, how warm and wet you get for him. Your quiet whimper reaches his ears and he wishes he could hear you without restraint, wishes he knew how loud you could be. He’s fairly certain it’s as close to a choir of angels he could ever get.

Especially since he’s destined for hell. But that’s neither here nor there. Right now, he’s in heaven.

He removes his fingers, reaching up to slip them past your lips for a quick clean. Your tongue glides across his fingertips and your eyelids flutter shut as he uses his free hand to work his belt open with clumsy movements. He shoves his jeans and boxers down his hips, just enough to expose the hard length of his cock.

Joel pulls his hand away from your face, using his spit slick fingers to pump himself. With his other hand, he reaches into the chest pocket of his flannel shirt for his knife.

Your eyes go wide as he pops the blade open, slipping the cold steel beneath the elastic of your panties and tugging sharply. The fabric snaps, echoing your gasp, your mouth dropped open in surprise. He doesn’t give you long to recover, sliding his cock through your wet folds and smiling in satisfaction as your expression shifts from incredulity to pleasure.

“You ready?” Joel grunts, his tip catching at your entrance. You nod your head rapidly, but he’s in the mood to hear you beg. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Please, Joel,” you murmur. Your lashes glisten with captured tears and the sight makes his blood run hot. “Please, please, please!”

Joel presses forward, sinking into your body with ease. You have one hand on the workbench behind you to support yourself but the other grips his shoulder tightly, fingernails sure to leave little indents in his skin even through the fabric of his shirt.

“Christ,” he hisses, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Always feel so fuckin’ good. How is it always so fuckin’ good?”

“Need you to move,” you reply. “Please, Joel.”

And what is he if not your good and faithful servant?

Joel draws his hips back and thrusts sharply, lifting his head to watch your face as he does. This is his favorite part, staring into the Garden of Eden, enjoying his forbidden fruit. You whimper and moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep quiet.

When he feels that knot of pleasure coiling tight in his belly, he curses and chases it all at once. It’s always over too soon when all he wants is to worship at your altar for eternity.

“Angel,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your low back as your own circle his shoulders. “Need you to come for me, baby.”

You whine, high and petulant. “No, no, no,” you chant, “Not yet.”

Joel leans forward to capture your lips with his, the action more of a sharing of breath that lacks any coordination of a proper kiss. He slips his hand between your bodies to circle your clit, the responding moan swallowed by his greedy mouth.

“Good thing you don’t make the rules,” he grunts, hips stuttering as you begin to squeeze around him. He may not inherit the kingdom of god, but he at least got a glimpse of heaven today.

Your legs drop from around his waist and he lifts his head to find your gaze. He always worries what he’ll see — disgust, guilt, and shame have all been reflected back at him before. But today…today you just smile softly, your skin damp with sweat and your lips swollen from his kisses and your teeth.

“Joel,” you murmur, pressing a palm to his cheek. “I have to go.”

Joel nods, knowing you’re right. He’s kept you long enough. Gray light filters through the dirt caked window of the little shed and you should get back to your home to get ready for Sunday service.

“I’ll see you around,” he replies, wrapping a hand behind your neck to pull you forward and give you one last hungry kiss before stepping away to right his pants. He holds a hand out to you to help you down from the work bench and watches as you fix your dress.

You give him one last watery smile before leaving through the flimsy wooden door. It slams back against the frame, the sound sharp to Joel’s ears. He sighs, counting to himself as he catalogs the spiderwebs and rusted tools in the shed.

There’s a flash of white in the corner of his eye. The mangled fabric of your panties sits discarded on the ground, and he leans forward to pick them up, pocketing them. For what, he’s not sure, but he’ll take any piece of you he can get.

Even if it’s just the part you’ve carelessly left behind.

________

Later, your husband stands at the dented podium to deliver his Sunday morning sermon to the good people of Jackson who still turn to religion for comfort and guidance. Joel isn’t one of those people, but he sits on a rough wooden bench across the aisle from you. Your panties are still tucked away in his pocket and he wonders if you’ve cleaned up already, or if you’re still full of him even as you sit there watching your husband.

“…And we see this spoken of in Proverbs 7:25 — ‘Do not let your heart turn to her ways or stray into her paths. Many are the victims she has brought down; her slain are a mighty throng. Her house is a highway to the grave, leading down to the chambers of death’.”

Joel looks towards you as the words settle among the crowd. Your gaze remains steadfastly on your husband, but your hands move restlessly in your lap. When Joel looks up at the podium, he finds your husband’s righteous glare trained on him.

Maybe Joel was wrong. He hasn’t found heaven in you.

He’s just found a deeper hell.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

[miyaagis]

tw infidelity‐pregnancy ₊˚⊹ ⚝ explicit content‐mdni. an indulgent little piece of clan head!gojo with his (unnamed) mistress. oral (fem), mentions of food, lowkey fluff-ish. not a gojo x reader !!

the air conditioner worked perfectly, cooling down the bedroom from the summer heat waving its way in from the outside.

the fruits in her hands were ripe and sweet, the sticky juice of the mangoes refreshing against her taste buds—just like her.

satoru breathed in the skin of her inner thigh, the scent drawing him in while the pregnant woman happily ate her late afternoon snack.

his pregnant woman.

"let me see my sweet little snack."

she lifted her hips so he could pull her linen shorts and panties down her legs, the cool breeze awakening goosebumps all over her skin. noticing how gentle yet eager his movements were, she allowed herself to relax back against the pillows with a small sigh.

his eyes softened, a small smile appearing on his face while he reached up to caress the underside of her belly in comfort. "three more months, sweetheart."

satoru knew that things would only get more complicated once the baby was born—he had experienced it already with you, after all.

not wanting to spiral down memory lane while she laid bare before him, his eyes moved from her eyes to her slit, his fingers spreading her folds apart so he could have a clear view.

"might have to stay here all day."

her fingers threaded through his hair as she, too, granted him a loving smile, heart fond of how it all played out for them—none the wiser about satoru's thoughts tormenting him.

and so he spent the afternoon enjoying her taste, his touch grazing the tender skin while his lips latched onto her clit, ravishing her sweetness as he brought her to the precipice of pleasure over and over.

[rinhaler]

Tell Me Where The Piece Go, 'Cause I'm Lost

CHAPTER SUMMARY: all you and megumi do is argue. and he's happy to leave you to your own devices, but after he and Gojo have a few drinks together, Megumi's lips begin to loosen in regards to you.

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, drinking, pining, arguing, etc.

WORDS : 5k

notes : kinda obsessed with megumi here idk xo

       LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

—

Gojo pulls up outside of your house and you can barely bring yourself to even look at the place. The home you built with Yuuji. The memories that you shared there with him and the romance that has bloomed into something so beautiful. You’ve allowed Megumi Fushiguro, your bully, to defile the blossoms with a litany of weeds. Weeds you could no longer fight or get rid of. They’ve taken root and as Gojo’s words replay in your mind, you know those roots will continue to grow.

You hadn’t noticed Megumi has been staring at you through the rear-view mirror the whole journey. But his gaze is intently fixated on you when Gojo parks outside of your home. He's focusing on your facial features. He was trying his best to decipher what was going on in your mind and what your next move would be.

To his surprise, his eyes widen when you fling the car door open and rush up the stairs to your front door. The speed in which you leave the car makes Megumi’s jaw lower slightly, his mouth agape. He catches himself, though, after hearing Gojo clear his throat and realise what he's doing.

They both deduce from the way you're frantically searching for your keys that you're crying. Eyes filled with tears and causing the world around you to be nothing but a meaningless blur.

“You wanna go help her?” Gojo asks, almost too quietly. Megumi barely hears him, his words almost being beaten by the sounds of the birds tweeting in the trees.

“This is your fault, you know.” Megumi groans back in response, “For pushing her. Shoulda just dropped it, Gojo. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. Why are you tryna paint a picture of something that isn’t there?”

Gojo sucks air into his cheeks and puffs it back out of his pursed lips, a crass sound accompanying it. He pushes his little round shades up into his hair; his shimmering, worldly eyes boring into Megumi as he forces his surrogate son to stare into them. He’s searching, Megumi thinks, searching for a weak spot in his armour to point out any lies.

“Sure.” he smirks, leaning back into his seat and unbuckling his belt, “But that’s not what I asked. Are you gonna go help the poor girl? She even left her bags in the trunk.”

Megumi scowls, a quick ‘tch’ leaving his agitated lips before he steps out of the car. He slowly approaches you, your bag tossed to the ground whilst you sit on your doorstep curled up into a ball and crying. You don’t even notice him getting closer to you. One minute your world is an unclear smudge through your sodden lenses, the next moment you hear the chain of your purse rattle and a giant standing beside you rifling through it.

You wipe your tears away hurriedly, still not completely clearing them. From the low angle you’re sitting in, Megumi looks like a giant. He looks like Toji.

He tests a few keys in the hole before he finally finds the one that works, slotting it in perfectly and turning the handle. He pushes the door open for you, but walks in first. It’s not surprising that he doesn’t offer you a hand up. So soon after telling you he loves you in a drug induced stupor and he’s back to his old self.

You toss your keys onto the coffee table carelessly before crumpling down onto the couch. Megumi isn’t beside you, you didn’t even notice him in the kitchen when you walked by. You’re happy to never look at him again, if possible. But he emerges, eventually. A tall glass of water with a few ice cubes in his hand. He pushes a coaster from the coffee table closer to you and sets it down.

“Are you— uh… Do you need anything?” he asks, stammering over himself. He pinches the end of his nose again and again to scratch it as he waits for you to answer.

“You can’t even ask me, can you? Were you going to ask i-if I’m okay?” you question. His eyes go a little wide, but it’s barely perceptible to you. He pulls his lips into a straight line and grunts at the unintentionally rude question.

“I was. I decided I don’t care.” he replies defensively, and you can’t help but scoff.

“There it is. God. I’m such an idiot.” you tell him. You pull the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and dab the ball of your wrist into your eye as you try and dispel anymore tears eager to line your vision.

“There what is? Why would I care to ask when you’re obviously not okay? I don’t have a time machine, O’Keeffe, I can’t make last night go away. There’s nothing I can do. We did what we did so there’s no use fuckin’ crying over it.” he bites at you.

“Don’t you think I know that?” you raise your voice a little, your words getting caught in your throat as tears begin to stream down your cheeks and your lips swell from the pressure of your mouth pulling and stretching to allow you to sob loudly. “You’re so fucked up Megumi, you don’t even realise it. You’re beyond help.”

“Shut up. If you’re gonna turn to insults you know who’ll win. You’re already crying babe, won’t take much to push you over the edge.” he explains.

“What is wrong with you? Do you hear yourself?”

“You wanted me last night. You’ve got such a fucking victims mentality, that’s what I can’t stand about you. You’ve been a victim your whole life and now you’re turning on me because you regret what happened. Newsflash, I’m not thrilled about it either.” he informs you. You don’t respond right away, more interested in wiping away your tears for the time being.

“You can’t keep getting away with this…” you sigh, wiping your nose and sitting forward on the sofa as you consider your next words carefully. “There is something seriously wrong with you, Megumi. I’ve known you and your M.O. long enough now to know you wanted this to happen over the weekend.”

“Huh? Are you joking?”

“This would never have happened if you didn’t pressure me into doing coke!” you yell, breaking down into sobs as you linger on the memory a moment too long. “You convinced me and manipulated me into doing so many drugs I’m surprised I’m even alive to talk about it!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic!” he yells back at you, turning away to pace around the room and rake his fingers through his hair. “Look, this is only a big deal because you’re making it one. I’m not gonna say anything and Gojo won’t either. If you keep your big mouth shut—”

“You don’t get it,” you start, interrupting his strategy. “I am so in love with Yuuji. It’s unconditional and I don’t doubt for a minute that he loves me too. I’m not scared to be with him or worried he’s going to have a change of personality from one minute to the next like I do with you.”

“And?”

“And, I know he’d do anything and everything to make me happy. I know he wants to be with me forever… And I love him so much, Megumi.”

He grits his teeth and his face scrunches tensely as he registers what you’re telling him. But he knew that already. He knew all of that but he still can’t help the irritating feeling gnawing at his insides.

“What’s your point, O’Keeffe?”

“How am I meant to be with him for the rest of my life if I don’t tell him the truth?” you finish, lip wobbling and beginning to bawl into your sleeves again.

Megumi looks down at you like you’re nothing. Your tears and emotions mean nothing to him as he watches your heart shatter over the breakdown of your relationship. His lips are back to being in a tight line and his green eyes glower down at you. You’re not even looking at him and you can feel the way they are burning into you. He went against his better judgement to come in here and try to help you. And you repaid him by telling him how fucked up he is. He has no sympathy for you. None. Because last night, no matter what the circumstances were, you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

“I don’t care if you tell him. It’s you who’ll get dumped by the end of it, not me. Do what you want O’Keeffe.” he turns away to walk out of the door, but you can’t let him go like this. Like he’s won a game of chess rather than destroying your life.

“Megumi, wait.” you call to him. He stops in his tracks, and then finally turns to face you once more. “I— I shared my body with you last night, Megumi. I risked everything that makes me happy… for you.”

He sighs, looking down at the ground before looking back at you. You back away when you notice him getting closer to you. It’s slow, deliberately intimidating and you can’t bring yourself to move away quick enough. You remember standing upright one minute and then falling back down onto the couch the next. His body towering over you and caging you between his arms. Your faces so close to each other your noses almost touched.

“Said you were lonely, baby. Wanted me because you were missin’ Yuuji.” he tells you in hushed tones. The memory of your words comes rushing back as you relive the incident that has lead to the two of you being like this now. “Victims mentality. I had nothing to lose and I was horny, O’Keeffe. You wanted me, and you could have said no.”

“But I—”

“Use all the excuses you want, princess. You wanted me. And now, you’re playing the victim. Because now you realise what you’ve done, and that you’ve risked everything to have it. To have me.”

“Do you love me, Megumi? Last night—”

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, a gruff and infuriated tone lacing his words. “Use the fucking internet and look up the effects of E. You are somethin’ else, really. I told you. I wanted to get off, and you didn’t want to be lonely.” he pulls away so quickly from you that he creates a breeze. The air makes your tear-soaked cheeks cold. Your loose hairs flow and follow him. Your eyes are lifeless. You can’t hide how dead inside you feel.

You risked your perfect relationship with Yuuji Itadori for a meaningless handjob with Megumi Fushiguro.

Your former, or maybe still current, bully.

He decides enough is enough, heading towards the front door and slamming it after himself. You hear the passenger side door slam quickly after, but you don’t hear the car pull away. You quickly take the opportunity to google the effects of ecstasy, curiosity getting the better of you. Although, you feel like you already have a good idea what it’s gonna say thanks to Megumi’s patronising response.

How you might feel: ‘loved up’

You are such a fool. You’re so embarrassed and you wish you’d never opened your mouth to ask such a stupid question.

Of course he doesn’t love you.

You don’t even want him to love you, but it at least would have given just cause for him to thrust all of this pain onto you. If he were jealous of Yuuji. If he was trying to break you up and wanted you for himself.

But, really, you could have been anyone. You were just… there. It was the right place and the right time for Megumi. But the wrong place and time for you.

There is a soft knock on the door and you jump to your feet. Gojo peers inside with a guilty looking smile, pushing the door open with his elbow to let himself in with your bags in tow.

“It’s just me.” he greets you.

You’re deflated once again, falling back into the sofa. But now, you’re done. You’re exhausted and you can’t take it anymore. You lie down and close your eyes. It might all be a bad dream. Maybe you can wake up and be in bed with Yuuji holding you close. You’d give anything to hear him whisper good morning to you right now. Anything at all to giggle and squirm as he begs to eat you out before you go to class.

“Is there anything I can do, sweetheart? Anything at all, you name it.” Gojo queries, hoping to coax you out of your depressive state.

“Please… just go.”

He sighs, placing down your bags and heading for the front door.

“You have my number. If you need anything please call. Even if it’s just a friendly ear.” he smiles. You look at him briefly before observing the way the ice cubes are moving in the drink that Megumi got you. Without another word, Gojo carefully closes the door behind him. And finally, finally, you hear the car pull away.

—

“Do you wanna—”

“No, Gojo, I don’t want to talk about it.” Megumi answers before his surrogate father can finish speaking. Gojo chuckles which irritates Megumi even more. “Stop laughing before I punch you.”

“I was actually going to ask if you’d like to go for a drink somewhere.”

Megumi’s body stiffens before exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. His cheeks are flushed pink with vague embarrassment and even he finds himself laughing a little. He nods, thinking the sound of something alcoholic sounds just fine.

“Leave the car at my place, I’ll ask my sister if she can take us.” Megumi insists. Gojo nods, agreeing with his idea. It definitely beats paying taxi fares.

Earlier, you mentioned Megumi being manipulative. And he isn’t ashamed to admit to himself that it’s true. He did manipulate you into doing drugs with him, but you did them nonetheless. And, somehow, manipulation is a skill of his that gets him through everyday life.

Like now, for instance.

Poor Tsumiki has been working all day, and she’s exhausted. But how could she deny her dear little brother a single thing in this life?

He barely walks in the door and he's already asking her to do things for him. She’s always so sweet and positive and it gets on Megumi’s fucking nerves.

And she can’t help but extend that kindness to Gojo when she sees him. She’s more than happy to drop her second father and beloved brother off wherever they need to go.

“Did you have fun on your trip, Megumi? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you.” Tsumiki breaks the silence in the car, eager to alleviate whatever tension is brewing inside.

“Not to worry, he was happy waiting for dad to pick him up. Weren’t you, Megumi?” Gojo grins in the backseat. Megumi cranes his neck to look back at him and scowl. “You know your brother, always finds a way to make fun for himself.”

“Is your classmate okay? Did they have fun? I felt so guilty when dad told me—”

“I’m fine. She’s fine. Drop it.”

Tsumiki feels her insides drop lower as she tries to determine whether she heard him right. She looks up into the rear-view mirror to meet Gojo’s eyes and then back to her brother.

“She? You were stranded with a girl?” she asks.

“Does it matter?” Megumi responds.

“Well, yeah! Kind of!” Tsumiki beams, doing her best to contain her excitement and be focused on the road. “I didn’t even know you made any friends at your new school, let alone a girl! And you shared a room with her? Oh my God!”

“Shut up. God I can’t fucking stand you, you’re so annoying.”

“Did you share a bed? Do you like her? Is she your girlfriend? Oh my God Megumi I’m so excited!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Megumi bites at her loudly, stunning her a little and retreating back into herself.

“W-What?”

“You know I’ve brought girls home before. You’re acting like I’m a fucking virgin who’s never even talked to a girl before. This isn’t a big deal, at all. Why is everyone acting like it’s such a big fucking deal?” he complains, his heart rate increasing and his breathing becoming louder and heavier.

“No, I know. I’ve complained a fair few times about the racket you make when you bring girls over, I know you’re not a virgin. But… as far as I’m aware I don’t think you’ve ever been friends with a girl before. I’m sorry, I got excited.” Tsumiki apologises meekly. The car is silent, again. One beat too many to keep it from being awkward. But finally, Megumi speaks.

“We’re not friends. It just… happened. It’s complicated.”

“People say shit like that when they’re in denial, you know. ‘It’s complicated.’ I think little Megumi is in love, Tsumiki.” Gojo smiles widely, such a cheesy and aggravating smile that takes up the majority of his face.

“Gojo, I swear to fucking God.” Megumi grimaces.

“Wait…” Tsumiki thinks, turning a corner in the car. She’s almost gotten them to their destination, but now the cogs are whirring in her mind and she doesn’t want this conversation to be over. “It’s the girl I met not that long ago, isn’t it?” she wondered. Megumi raises an eyebrow, obviously confused.

“The one who’s friends with dad. Yuuji’s girlfriend. Was it her?” she asks again. Megumi forces his eyes closed, as much as he could before looking out of the window and nodding. “Oh! Well, I’m sorry for prying. I didn’t realise.”

She turns the car back on track and heads towards the bar they want to be taken to. Megumi’s brows furrow in confusion, though he doesn’t speak or look at her directly. Instead, he side eyes her. Trying to read her process that lead her to dropping the topic entirely. She parks outside of the bar, smiling gleefully at her brother.

“I should have known you were just taking care of your best friend’s girlfriend! You’re such a good boy Megumi, I’m so proud of you.” she tells him, pinching his cheek like an overly adoring mother. Megumi’s eyes flutter shut as she tries to shut her words out and prevent himself from smiling or laughing. My God, Tsumiki is such an idiot. Although, ‘taking care’ of you is one way of putting what happened.

“Oh sweetheart…” Gojo sighs. Tsumiki turns back to look at him, confusion taking over her features. She cocks her head, prompting him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Nothing, thank you for the ride. C’mon Megumi.”

—

You haven’t moved from the couch in hours.

Since Gojo left, in fact.

You’d decompose here if you could.

But your bladder gets the better of you. You take the opportunity to get up and lock the front door and then go to pee afterwards. It’s so dark, now. Your eyes are swollen and puffy and you decide you should probably take yourself to bed. With your phone in one hand and your fluffy blanket in the other, you carry yourself up the stairs and into the second bedroom.

You aren’t sure if smelling Yuuji’s scent in your main room downstairs will make you feel better or worse.

And while you’re struggling to function normally. While your heart is decaying and you are finding it difficult to even turn the TV on for some background noise; Gojo and Megumi are having the time of their lives.

Gojo is on his fifth bottle of beer whilst Megumi has lost count. They are laughing, joking around and making memories that brutal hangovers will help them forget the following day.

They’re playing pool. Another hidden skill of Megumi’s. As Gojo takes a shot and accidentally pots the white ball, they both burst into a fit a laughter. Megumi picks up the white when it rolls through the table and lines up a shot he thinks will be perfect. And even if it isn’t, he gets two shots.

“I love Tsumiki,” Gojo smiles, wiping away a tear. “I can’t quite believe she managed to talk herself out of her suspicions.”

“She’s an idiot.” Megumi reminds him, potting the striped 13 ball seamlessly. He stands upright and changes his position, searching for his next target. “Stop talking about it. I’m still pissed about your pathetic little comment in the car.” he alerts him. Gojo’s relaxed pose turns steadier and more serious.

“Comment?”

“Forget it.” he responds, potting another ball. Striped 9. Gojo wracks his brain as he tries to remember what he said in the car. Something bothersome enough to make his son hold a grudge.

“Ah.” it comes back to him, but decides nothing more needs to be said. Megumi rolls his eyes and takes another shot, this time missing and potting Gojo’s solid 7 ball. Fuck. “Careful now… Going to form a habit of touching other people’s things.” he smirks, leaning over the table to try and take a shot of his own.

Megumi snarls but keeps his mouth shut. Gojo whistles and orders another two beers for the pair of them, noticing Megumi trying to slurp the dregs from his bottle to no avail. During the wait for their drinks, Gojo makes one shot and misses another. Megumi grabs his bottle hastily and drains the contents almost too quick to register. His Adam’s apple bobs as he downs the liquid in less than thirty seconds, and then he orders another.

“I’m a little worried about you, kiddo.” Gojo tells him. Megumi shakes his head, taking his next shot.

“Don’t.”

“I haven’t seen you in— We haven’t talked for— You’re a son to me, Megumi. I’m allowed to worry.” he finishes, taking a small sip of his beer.

“What do you want from me? Huh? To call you dad? Will you drop this conversation if I call you dad?” he slurs, staggering a little as he works his way around the table. “Okay dad. What do you wanna talk about dad?”

Gojo sighs, taking a bigger drink before setting it down and leaning against the pool table.

“It’s alright,” Gojo smiles.

“This fucking chick. I’m sick of her. Everyone’s in my business, no one cared about me before she came along and now everyone won’t leave me the fuck alone.” he explains. Gojo nods, wanting to display that he’s listening to him.

“There have been a lot of big changes in your life, Megumi. You moved back home. Toji is back. And your situation with this girl is clearly a heavy burden on your shoulders.” Gojo speaks as he chalks up his pool cue.

“Don’t even mention that bastard. I hate him and I hate her.”

“Megumi, try not to bite my head off but… Would you consider going back to therapy?” Gojo wonders. Megumi shakes his head and scoffs.

“Didn’t like it. Fuckin’ useless.” he announces. “And an- another thing about O’Keeffe, she’s just so perfect. Not, like, I think she’s perfec- perfect. But she thinks she is. Like she can’t do anything wrong. I hate her, I fucking hate her.”

“What happened today? When I wasn’t there.” Gojo wonders. Megumi’s eyes roll over white and he somehow manages to make his next shot despite him being able to see three white balls instead of one.

“She just blamed me for everything. Said it was my fault we hooked up even though she was crying about being lonely. Like… I mean…”

“What?”

“Okay, okay. Maybe it’s my fault. I got her to get high with me and she’s never— I don’t think she’s done drugs before? Can’t remember. Anyway. She went along with it. And we were both just… handjobs are nice, right? Fun and feels nice and getting to cum with someone is—”

“Keep it down Megumi.” Gojo warns him.

“What? Look, I could have fucked her but getting jerked off was enough, y’know? It was just nice. It was just really fucking nice and I liked it and I thought she liked it too. But n-now she’s worried about Yuuji and she’s pissed at me but she wanted it. I came, she came, and I thought it was all good a-and fine but she’s being a cunt now... and I hate her.”

“Do you… like her, Megumi?” Gojo probes.

“Are you— are you deaf? I said I hate her, you aren’t listening to me. I hate her.”

“But you’re upset that she’s mad at you.”

“Y-Yeah, so? Thought we were gonna be frien- fine. And she’s just making a big fuckin’ deal out of it. I just don’t… I don’t get it. It was nice.” Megumi rambles. Gojo nods again, knowing the conversation would be better if they were both sober. He’s making mental notes though. Making sure to lock away the information to discuss with him another time. “Like— Like her, tch. Dumb ass. Never even thought… For a second anything like that would happen between us. Especially after we kissed at her parents place and—”

“Back. It. Up. Cowboy. You hooked up before this?” Gojo interrupts.

“I— not really. We kissed. I kissed her. Dunno why, just felt like it. But she slapped me ‘n I just thought it was funny. Made her cheat on Yuuji and started keepin’ s-secrets.”

“Megumi…” Gojo sighs. “You felt like kissing her.”

“Yeah.”

“And you wanted to make her keep secrets from Yuuji… Something to eat away at their relationship.” Gojo continues. Megumi hiccups and his eyes squint. His body sways and the only balance he has is the pool cue between his fists keeping him upright.

“R-Right, so?” Megumi responds. Gojo smiles, gritting his teeth and it appears he’s more pained than joyous. He shrugs his shoulders and doesn’t say another word, hoping even in his drunken state that Megumi will connect the dots. Megumi’s body relaxes. He goes limp and the pool cue drops out of his hands. He falls backwards into the wall behind him and slides down until he’s sitting on the sticky flooring. Gojo rushes to him, crouching down on one knee and trying to get Megumi’s attention. “Oh fuck. Oh G-God. Gojo, n-no.” he stammers, not looking at Gojo but through him.

“It’s okay, Megumi. I’ll get us a cab and get us home.”

“N-No. Gojo, it’s not fucking alright. I like her, don’t I? I fucking l-like O’Keeffe. No no no, this isn’t right.” Megumi wrestles with himself. Gojo helps him up with one of his sons arms around his shoulders and leads him outside into the fresh air. “Gojo I— I don’t— like her, do I?”

“I think you do, kid.” Gojo grins earnestly, happy to get an admission out of Megumi. “Maybe even more than that.”

“W-What?” Megumi wonders aloud, a twinge of fear intertwined with his drunken speech, “Gojo… Do I— Do I love her?” Megumi asks. Like he’s asking his genuine advice as if Gojo knows Megumi’s feelings better than he does. It’s probably true. Despite his feelings being his own, he can’t connect with them. He can’t connect with himself.

“It seems that way. Either you’re in love with her or you’re falling there, that’s my guess.” Gojo tells him.

Megumi begins to shiver as the cool night air attacks him. Gojo keeps him upright and tries to pass along his body warmth to him as they wait for a taxi to pull up and collect them. Neither of them can believe how dark it is. Light morning sky turned to a black abyss and somehow neither of them have eaten or slept. Megumi has done nothing but drink since seeing you and it all feels like the same long day that you hooked up and argued about it. And now, out of nowhere, he’s found out he has feelings for you. Actual feelings. The type that people write songs about. The type that could potentially make you happy rather than terrified.

He likes you.

He might even love you.

“Fuck.”

—

You left Netflix running when you finally got the TV on. Final Space has been paused for a while since you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to press continue watching when it was prompted. You’ve been staring at your phone for hours. Your thumb hovering over Gojo’s name as you debated sending him a message.

Over and over again you scrolled through all of your contacts. A variety of people stood out but none of them that you wanted to call. You still had the numbers of people you had fallen out with and no longer talked to. There was one thing you wanted to do; and that thing was to scream. You felt desperate to let it all out, but there wasn’t a soul you could confide in.

The one person you did call, Toji, still wasn’t answering his calls or texts. It worries you that he isn’t responding, it’s so unlike him. You even contemplated calling your mother. But after last time you couldn’t think of a worse thing to do. You don’t need to give your parents any more ammunition to disparage you from your relationship and get into your head about doing what they want.

So, Gojo is all you have. But maybe you should just go to sleep and try to forget everything that has happened. Wash the day away from you and imagine yourself somewhere far away. Wherever Yuuji is, perhaps. But you can’t lock your phone screen. All you can do is stare at Gojo’s name. Your thumb venturing closer and closer to the phone icon. It’s out of your hands, now. You need to call him. You need to talk to somebody.

But as you’re about to press the button, your entire screen is filled with an incoming call. It shocks you. For some reason your phone isn’t on silent so the garish ringtone slices through your body like knives. You’re lucky your phone is somehow still in your hand and not smashed against your bedroom wall. You’re so fucking lucky. Luckier than you could have imagined being today. You press the green phone button so fast and bring the speaker to your ear.

“Yuuji?”

—

© 2025 rinhaler

—

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

ANAKIN SKYWALKER gets you alone, and it doesn’t take much at all before you’re laid back on his couch—pretty legs spread for him. He never took himself for a girlfriend-fucker, but here you are, writhing and panting as if you’ve never been touched in your life. Your boyfriend is an afterthought, both in his mind and yours, as soon as those plump lips opened to take all of you in. Your cunt is enveloped completely in the comfortable warm wetness of his mouth, scooping his tongue through your slit to gather essence that lubes up your clit, swiping across it side-to-side. He’s patient, he’s gentle, and you can’t get enough of it. Your back arches off the cushions, tangling in the golden curls of his hair as his upper lip flicks over your sensitive bud, shooting a shockwave up your spine. His lips enclose around it, sucking it just enough to make you keen. Soft, airy, n pitchy moans spill out of your mouth as you press his nose into your mound, warming it with your skin. Large hands keep your thighs apart.