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redroomreflections · 2 days ago

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Hotel California | Track 16 : Blurred Lines

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 4k

Chapter 16/20

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: I hope y'all like it =)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Keeping a secret from the rest of the band was surprisingly easy. With the pressure to continue touring and giving each show their all, it was something you enjoyed having between the two of you. The excitement and potential of marriage felt overwhelming—heavy in your chest but in the best way. You and Natasha had just hit the year mark and hadn’t even celebrated your anniversary yet. With the late-night shows and back-to-back rehearsals, there hadn't been much room to breathe, let alone plan something as big as announcing an engagement.

It had been a week since she proposed, and you were still on cloud nine. It felt like you floated through every conversation, every soundcheck, every hotel check-in. Something was glowing under your skin, but no one else could see it yet.

In the middle of the afternoon, the sun burned hot over Miami, the air thick with humidity. Natasha and the band had just wrapped up three nights in a row, and now you had a rare stretch of days off, an entire week to breathe. Tony had rented out some sleek little house away from the city, something with too many bedrooms and a private pool tucked behind high walls. Perfect for hiding.

You and Natasha hadn’t meant to be disgustingly in love, but here you were. Half-lounging, half-floating in the pool, a half-eaten plate of fruit on the edge, both of you laughing at something stupid she said. She’d pulled her hair up messily, sunglasses perched low on her nose, freckles peeking through after so much sun. No crew, no flashing lights. No schedule. Her legs tangled with yours underwater, her hand occasionally drifting to your knee like she couldn’t help herself.

This was the best version of you and Natasha, only you saw. The version no one else knew about.

You were happy. You were engaged. You were in love.

Natasha lazily ran her fingers along your arm, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses.

“You know,” she murmured, voice low and warm, “I kinda like having you all to myself like this. No cameras. No band. No one asking questions.”

You smiled, sinking deeper into the water beside her.

“Yeah, well,” you teased, “enjoy it while it lasts. Pretty sure once people figure out what’s on your finger when you wear your ring, we won’t get a moment’s peace.”

Natasha tilted her head toward you, smirking.“Let them talk. They’ve been talking about us since day one.”

You sighed, content, leaning closer until you rested your forehead against her shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun, soft where your cheek brushed it.

She hummed softly, her fingers drifting along your back.

Your breath tickled her skin.

"I still can't believe it," You leaned back to study her face. "You're going to be my wife."

Natasha smiled.

"Yeah," she murmured, a quiet little sound. "I'm going to be your wife."

Your smile grew impossibly wide, the words sending a rush of warmth down your spine. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

Natasha reached up to trace the curve of your smile with her thumb, her smile growing. Her other hand snapped your bikini against your skin as she took advantage of your distraction. You squealed and tried to get away, but she was faster, her hands finding all the ticklish spots on your body. She pulled you into her, opening her legs to accommodate you, wrapping her arms around your body. You squirmed, laughter bubbling up from deep in your belly, and you could feel her smiling as she pressed a kiss against the side of your head.

You were still breathless when you calmed, and Natasha's fingers skimmed your bare sides, tracing over the wet skin.

"God, I love you," she murmured, and you felt your cheeks heat. She could be so intense sometimes.

You turned your head and kissed her. She tasted like sunshine and chlorine, the faintest trace of strawberry lingering on her lips. She kissed you back, her hands tightening against your hips. Your heart pounded.

"I love you," you whispered against her lips, and she hummed again.

"Nobody's here," She murmured.

"What?"

"The guys are still out. They won't be back for a while. Isabella is with Wanda."

You laughed. "We can't," You chided. "It's daylight."

"I don't care," She breathed, her nose nudging yours. "It's not like the neighbors are watching."

"You're incorrigible," You mumbled, but it was weak, her lips already distracting you. Your kiss turned slow and gentle, tongues tangling, her hand sliding to your neck.

You moaned softly, and you could feel her smile.

"Let me take care of you," She whispered, and you nodded.

Her hand trailed up your leg, slipping beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms to caress your ass. You both were too distracted to hear the sliding doors open.

"Kid in tow," Wanda announced as she exited the house, "so no sex in the pool."

You squealed and ducked under the water, Natasha's grip loosening. When you surfaced, her arms had dropped away, and you were facing the pool's other side. You were a respectable distance apart, though the pink in her cheeks made her guilt obvious.

Wanda smirked, watching as you fixed your top, and sighed.

"Also, the guys are here."

"Damn," You muttered. "And I was looking forward to that."

Wanda snickered and settled onto one of the lounge chairs. Isabella came out a moment later with a pool floatie and a huge grin.

"Look what Steve found!"

"Wow," you cooed. "That looks awesome."

She nodded, dropping her towel before climbing into the inner tube. She pushed off, floating to the pool's center, and you couldn't help but laugh.

Natasha caught your eye and smiled, mouthing an apology, and you smiled back. You weren't angry, though you did want to know how long they were supposed to be gone.

You'd been so distracted by her touch, tongue, voice, body, and hands.

You wanted more.

"So," Wanda cut in, pulling you from your thoughts, "what time is your flight again?" She asked, directing her question to you.

"It's at 5 am," You informed her. "Gives us plenty of time to get home and rest."

Natasha groaned, dropping her head back dramatically against the edge of the pool.

“Way too early,” she mumbled. “You sure you can’t just skip it?”

You shot her a look, lips quirking.

“Tempting, but no. You know Sam—he’ll want every second he can get with Bella.”

Your eyes flickered toward Isabella, giggling in the pool, and your voice softened. “Besides, work’s piling up. It’s time.”

Wanda gave you a sympathetic glance over her sunglasses. "We're going to miss you gals around here. Isabella is my best bud."

"I have a lot of fun with you guys," Isabella smiled. "But I miss Daddy."

Natasha sighed, pretending to pout as she watched Isabella spin lazily in her floatie.

“I don’t know what I’ll do a whole week without you two,” she said, stretching her arms to pull you back. She rested her chin on your shoulder. “Might lose my mind.”

You raised a brow, smirking.

“You? Lose your mind? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“She’s already halfway there,” Wanda teased, earning a laugh from Isabella.

Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled softly, her gaze flickering between you and Bella. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up now. I’ll be counting the hours.”

You felt something warm settle low in your chest at how she said it—not overly dramatic, but honest enough to make your heart squeeze.

“Lucky for you,” you murmured. "I will be back before you know it."

"I know, I know," Natasha pouted, her lips brushing your cheek. "I still hate being away from you."

"Me, too," You admitted, turning to face her.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against yours, and the sound of Wanda clearing her throat reminded you where you were.

Natasha grinned.

"Get a room, you two," Wanda called, her voice teasing.

"You see what I have to deal with?" Isabella rolls her eyes playfully.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, the sound of the back gate clicking open pulled everyone's attention. Voices drifted through, easy and familiar.

"Hope you’ve got drinks left," Tony called out, sunglasses already perched on his nose as he strolled in like he owned the place—which, technically, he probably did. Steve followed right behind, carrying a cooler, while Bucky trailed last, towel slung over his shoulder and smirking at the scene in front of him.

“Wow, didn’t realize we were crashing a funeral,” Bucky teased, giving Isabella a little wave as she grinned at him from the pool.

Tony scanned the group, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with the long faces? Thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“It was,” Wanda shrugged, shifting her sunglasses up. “Until lovebirds over here started getting all mopey.”

Natasha shot her a look but didn’t deny it. Instead, her fingers brushed your hips. You could feel the gears turning in her head. You knew that look. She was thinking.

Bucky and Steve found chairs, cracking open beers while Tony immediately commandeered the Bluetooth speaker, flipping through playlists. It felt easy, loud, and comfortable in a way that only comes when everyone knows each other too well.

Natasha glanced at you, lips tugging in a small smile, and you already knew.

It wouldn’t stay a secret much longer.

She leaned in close, voice low so only you could hear.

“Maybe now’s the time,” she murmured, eyes flicking toward the guys. “Before someone else beats us to it.”

You gave her a look, half amused, half bracing yourself.

“You sure?”

Natasha’s smile widened something almost giddy underneath.

“Absolutely.”

"Hey, lovebirds, don't keep secrets from the rest of us," Tony said, pulling your attention.

You turned and saw his gaze on the two of you.

"It's not a secret, is it, babe?" You said, turning your gaze to Natasha.

"No, not anymore," Natasha replied. "Y/n and I wanted to know where you guys would be September 2nd?"

"Wherever the tour is," Steve offered.

"That's what we figured," You smiled. "We would like to invite you all to our wedding."

Bucky was the first to stand up with a grin.

"Well, hell yeah, I'm there." He cheered.

"You're serious?" Isabella squealed from her tube. She was inches from you in the pool now, sporting the biggest smile.

"Yes, princess, we're getting married," Natasha beamed, her arm wrapping around your waist.

Isabella squealed and jumped over the floaties and into your arms.

"I can't believe you're getting married!" She cried, and her excitement was contagious.

Natasha laughed and hugged her back.

"Can't believe it either, kid," she teased, and the others clapped.

"Well, I'm honored," Tony said, and he looked surprisingly genuine.

"Congratulations, you two," Steve smiled. "Can't think of anyone better suited for each other."

"Where's the ring?" Wanda demanded.

"Safely upstairs, of course," You informed her. "Can't kill it with chlorine already."

"Does this mean I get to be the flower girl? I could wear a cool dress," Isabella was already planning things, which warmed your heart when you saw her so excited.

"Of course," You grinned, pulling her close.

"I'm going to have two moms. This is awesome," Isabella grinned. "I can't wait to tell Lenny. She's going to flip."

"Actually," You exchanged a look with Natasha, who was smiling, too, and you took a breath. "We are hoping to keep our engagement a secret for as long as possible. Ideally, until after the wedding."

"Really?" Bucky asked. "Why? Seems like the kind of thing you'd want everyone to know about."

"Because," Natasha answered for you. "We've spent a lot of this past year under a microscope. We'd rather do this our way."

Tony shrugged. "Sure, I get that. Means I get to throw a helluva bachelorette party."

You laughed. "Of course, that's the first thing you'd focus on."

He shot you a wink. "I have my priorities."

You shook your head, still smiling.

"Thank you, Tony. All of you. For not making a big deal out of this."

"We've all known this was coming," Wanda replied. "Even if none of us had any idea it was happening."

Everyone began climbing out of the pool, toweling off, and grabbing whatever drinks were still cold. Steve was the first to lift his glass, catching everyone’s attention as they gathered around the lounge chairs.

He glanced between you and Natasha, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I think it’s only fitting we make a toast,” he started, voice carrying just enough weight to settle everyone down. “To two of the strongest people I know. To finding something real and holding onto it.”

There were murmurs of agreement as glasses clinked together. Even Isabella, standing between you and Natasha, raised her glass of fruit punch high, beaming.

“To my moms,” she grinned proudly. “And to hanging out with all of you. Even if you’re super loud.”

Everyone laughed at that.

Natasha leaned down, kissing the top of Isabella’s head, her free arm sliding around your waist.

“Here’s to family,” Steve added, lifting his glass again.

You felt something settle deep in your chest at that—something warm, steady, and sure.

“Family,” you echoed, clinking your glass gently against Natasha’s.

******

Early morning departures were usually easygoing. Most people were too tired or in a rush to care about anyone else, which worked in your favor. You kept your head low, sunglasses on, one hand gripping the handle of your carry-on while the other held tight to Isabella’s smaller one. She walked beside you without a care in the world, her backpack strapped securely, as she chattered softly about how much she missed her bed at home.

For the most part, no one had bothered you; it was much too early, even if a few eyes lingered a little longer, a couple of people whispering. It was manageable. It wasn’t like walking out of a venue or some red carpet.

“Mom,” Isabella tugged at your hand, slowing you down. “Can we stop real quick? I wanna get snacks.”

You glanced at the little convenience store she was eyeing, debating. Normally, you’d say no. You'd packed her a few things already, but she looked up at you with that hopeful expression, the same one Natasha always teased you about caving to.

You sighed, leaning down a little. “Fine, but just a few things."

Her grin was instant. “Promise.”

A few minutes later, you stood near the back of the store, letting Isabella browse the candy aisle while you kept an eye on the time.

"Mom!" Isabella said a bit too loudly. Her squeal wasn't one of fear, though. It was more exciting. She quickly found you, and you realized what all the commotion was about. She held up a magazine cover of herself. The picture was of her as she stood beside you and Natasha on stage after one of the performances, smiling ear to ear. "I'm on a magazine. I'm only ten, and I'm on a magazine."

You smiled faintly, eyes flickering to the glossy cover she held up. There it was—your face, Natasha’s, and right in the middle, Isabella grinning, hands thrown up like she didn’t care in the world. Your stomach twisted slightly.

She was excitedly glowing, practically bouncing as she flipped the magazine to show you again. “Look! I’m on it! Can we buy it? Please?”

“If you want it, baby, you can have it,” you told her gently.

She nodded eagerly, already rushing toward the checkout.

You stood a beat longer, staring at the image on another cover. You and Sam had always kept a tight grip on Isabella’s exposure. Carefully curated appearances, blurred-out photos, no paparazzi access. But the tour, the shows—it was impossible to shield her completely. You knew that.

Now, seeing the evidence, you felt a twinge of regret. Was she being too exposed? Would this come back to bite you? Of course, no one knew much about Isabella. She wasn't in the spotlight often and wasn't being interviewed or questioned. It still felt like a risk. Something that always made you think twice.

"Mama, I'm ready to check out."

"Alright, let's go," you told her.

She skipped back to your side, magazine tucked safely under her arm and a few candy bars in her other hand.

You kept thinking about the magazine cover as you paid for the snacks. You had to call Sam and give him a heads-up if he hadn't already seen it. He'd have some thoughts, of course, and the rest of the PR team. It was unavoidable, a part of the life you chose. You couldn't help but wonder if it was a life she could choose for herself.

You sighed, trying to push the thought away as the cashier returned your card.

"Thanks, ma'am," the cashier smiled, and you nodded, grabbing Isabella's hand again.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Have a good day, you two."

"We will. Have a nice day," You smiled.

You had a flight to catch, and Isabella had a dad to see.

Everything would be fine.

*******

You were just sliding your laptop shut when your phone buzzed on the table. The meeting had run over, and now you were scrambling to wrap up the last of your work before you would go home and crash.

A few notifications flashed—one from the group chat about Steve and Tony arguing over where the band should get food.

But it was the string of messages from Natasha that caught your eye:

Natasha: Miss you already.

Natasha: Counting down days till you’re back.

Natasha: I hope your meetings are going well.

You grinned and quickly typed out a reply.

You: They are. Can't wait to tell you all about it.

You: And yes, I miss you too.

Natasha: <3

You were still smiling when another message popped up:

Natasha: BTW, what are you wearing?

You laughed out loud at that one. You stood up to close your office door before pressing the call button. She picked up on the first ring with a smug, satisfied tone.

"So, what are you wearing?"

"You're such a nerd," You said, shaking your head, the grin spreading wider. "And my work clothes, obviously."

"That's hot."

"Oh, yeah, very sexy."

"Are you alone?" She asked.

"I am, locked the door and everything." You entertained the idea. "You're not. Aren't you at rehearsals?"

"I am," Natasha nodded. "They won't mind."

You scoffed.

"Don't be such a tease."

"Who said I was teasing?" She countered, and you could hear the amusement in her voice.

"You're insatiable, Romanoff."

"Maybe," She conceded, and her tone softened. "I really miss you."

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest.

"I miss you, too," You admitted quietly, leaning back against your chair. "It's been a long week."

"Any luck with the label?"

"Not yet," You sighed. "The investors are hesitant, but they're considering. Having new clients suck sometimes."

"You'll get it," She replied, and you could practically see her shrug. "If anyone can, it's you."

"That's the goal," You nodded, shifting in your seat.

"And, hey," She added, voice dropping to a lower, almost conspiratorial tone. "It'll be nice when we can travel together again. Maybe have some fun in between shows."

"Gone a few days, and you're already feening for some action," You teased, and she chuckled.

"It's been a few days already."

You couldn't argue with that, not when it felt like ages.

"I'll see you next week," You promised.

"I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"What are you going to do tonight?" You asked. "Any plans?"

"Nah," Natasha denied. "The guys are thinking about inviting a few people over, but I'm not interested."

"No? I thought you liked a party."

"I'm not feeling it. I'll order something and relax."

"Good idea," You agreed. "I'm going to head straight home. Maybe order something and watch a movie."

"What's Isabella up to tonight?"

"Hanging out with Sam," You said. "He's been chill about everything that's going on. He's happy to see her so happy."

"Good," Natasha murmured, her voice a little distracted. "She's got a great dad."

"Yeah," You said, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Sorry, babe, I've got to go," You apologized, grabbing your bag. "Someone's here."

"Okay," She answered, a hint of reluctance. "I love you."

"I love you too," You said before hanging up. Another meeting. You groaned inwardly, wondering if your next vacation would have enough time to compensate for the overtime.

*********

Tony’s parties never tended to be small.

It was always a full house—sometimes even spilling into the yard with music that could be heard half a block down. This one was no different. Natasha found herself in a familiar position, a drink in her hand and a smile on her face as she chatted with old friends.

It was a nice night. Cool enough that the windows were open, the sounds of the city drifting in, and she took a sip of her beer, eyes wandering. Her night had started out simple enough. She’d danced with a few familiar faces, talked shop with Tony and Steve, and at some point, found herself caught up in a conversation with a girl who seemed too young for the party, but not by much. She was Mia and had that carefree spirit that Natasha was attracted to. Mia talked to her about the many tattoos on her body, and Natasha enjoyed the conversation.

"I'm thinking about getting another one," Mia nodded. "I'm addicted to the ink now."

"I love a good tattoo," Natasha smiled, taking a swig of her drink.

"Which one is your favorite?" Mia asked, her eyes trailing over Natasha's skin as they stood near the kitchen island, the loud music echoing through the room.

"I only have one," Natasha gestured to the tattoo on her back. "I've been meaning to get a few others, but I don't have the time these days."

"Oh, I have a few time savers," Mia smirked, stepping a little closer, her voice teasing as she leaned against the counter, her eyes not leaving Natasha's.

Natasha glanced around her, where Tony and Steve were still conversing about some tech gadget. The band was scattered, with drinks in hand, clearly enjoying themselves. She took a sip of her beer. She tried to make this less awkward for the girl.

"I'll have to remember that," Natasha replied, raising an eyebrow. She could feel the shift in the air, Mia's gaze now clearly focused on her mouth.

"Or I could give you my number, and we can discuss them sometime." Mia's voice dropped to a lower register, a hint of something else in her tone.

Natasha chuckled. "You're bold," she said, shaking her head lightly, but her tone was still playful. "But I'm not interested. I have a girlfriend."

"Ah, damn, and here I thought I was in luck," Mia smiled, not looking too put out by Natasha's confession. "She doesn't have to know."

"I know, and I'm not that kind of person," Natasha told her, keeping her voice low.

"Damn," Mia said, pushing herself off the counter. She walked away with a smirk, her gaze not leaving Natasha's, her body swaying as she went to find a new distraction.

Natasha shook her head and finished her drink. She'd been tempted, she could admit. It was the nature of her job, the attention, the constant attention of a crowd, the buzz of alcohol. She was human, and she had her limits.

"Time for body shots!" Someone called, and Natasha looked up.

Bucky and Wanda were entering the living room, the crowd gathering around. Tony was grinning, pulling out a bottle of tequila and a tray of lime slices.

"Come on, Nat, let's do this!" Wanda called.

Natasha sighed, knowing there was no stopping this train, and made her way toward them.

"You guys are insane," She shook her head. "There's no way we're still doing this like in college."

"Aw, come on," Tony teased. "Where's your sense of fun? Live a little."

"This is stupid," She rolled her eyes, but a part of her was curious, especially when a few people began cheering and laughing.

"It's harmless," Tony argued, holding up the tray of lime slices. "And no one will judge you."

Natasha looked around, saw the expectant faces of her friends, and gave in.

"Fine, one round," She said, walking to the dining table.

"Great," Tony grinned, motioning for the crowd to gather around the table. "You're going first."

"Of course I am," Natasha muttered. "If I have to, I'm choosing Wanda."

"Sure thing, Red," Bucky laughed.

"Don't mind if I do," Wanda lay on the table, lifting her shirt far enough to see her belly button.

Natasha stepped up, her gaze focused on her friend. She grabbed a lime slice and held it gently between her teeth.

"Let's make this quick," Natasha said.

"Don't be a baby, Natasha," Tony laughed. "Ready?"

"Go ahead," Natasha said, bracing herself.

The salt was poured onto Wanda's abdomen, right next to her belly button, and the crowd cheered as the music continued.

"Don't forget the lime!"

"Drink it!"

"One, two, three, go!" Tony shouted.

Natasha did what she did best, leaning down and licking the salt off of Wanda's stomach before reaching for the shot. She swallowed, grimacing as she reached for the lime, biting into it and sucking the juice out before tossing it to the side. The crowd cheered, and she stood up with a smug smile.

"Nice try," Wanda laughed.

"Your turn," Natasha gestured toward her.

Wanda nodded, her eyes scanning the room, landing on Steve.

"Rogers, what do you say? Ready for a little taste?" She winked.

Steve grinned and shrugged.

"Why not," He walked toward her.

"Get it, Rogers!" Someone shouted.

"You're next, Buck," Wanda added.

"Oh, I'm ready," Bucky smirked, and the crowd cheered.

"Alright," Wanda nodded. Natasha watched for a few more minutes, enjoying herself and the music. The last shot she'd taken had clearly been too much for her, and the room was beginning to feel a bit more warm. After a few more rounds of shots and playful banter, the buzz had worn off, and the noise was starting to grate on her nerves. She made her way to the stairs, trying to sneak away unnoticed.

She had one hand on the railing when she heard a voice behind her. “Leaving already?”

Mia was there, a little too close for comfort, her gaze lingering on Natasha with an intensity that made Natasha’s stomach tighten.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” Natasha said, keeping her voice calm but firm.

Mia stepped forward, almost blocking the path. “Mind if I join you? I could use a break from the crowd, too.”

Natasha hesitated momentarily, her eyes flickering toward her room at the top of the stairs. She knew what this was. She knew what Mia wanted. She didn’t have the energy for this tonight, not for someone who wasn’t what she needed.

Mia smiled.

"No," Natasha told her. "I'm not interested. This is my second time telling you tonight. You should just give it up. You're a nice girl. A beautiful girl that I'm sure could find someone here that would love to take you home."

"I'm not blind," Mia interrupted, her eyes narrowing.

"And I'm not interested. Go find someone else."

Mia opened her mouth to say something, but Natasha was already walking past her, climbing the stairs two at a time and disappearing into her room.

She sighed, closing the door behind her, letting the noise of the party fade into the background. She locked the door and turned on the lamp by her bed, casting the room in a soft, yellow glow. She looked around the room for her phone but couldn't find it anywhere. She didn't dare go back down to the party. She turned on the TV and decided to spend the rest of her night alone.

It was for the best.

Her head was still spinning slightly from the alcohol, and she was sure she was going to feel worse in the morning. The soft noise of the TV filled the silence, but the flickering of the light on the walls began to pull her into a sleepy haze. Her eyes fluttered closed, and within minutes, she was out.

It wasn't like Natasha ending a party so early, but she was a taken woman now. She didn't realize what she would wake up to.

-----> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #hotelcaliforniaau

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jlf23tumble · 3 months ago

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Hiiii it's me again. One question I have is what information from 2010-2015 (or later) do you think is missing? I think there's still ample evidence online that Larry existed during the band (and possibly after) but there are also a lot of dead Tumblr/Twitter links. I saw on a Louis blog that there were UAs in the past who had close relationships with people working with 1D and the boys used to DM fans directly. (I'm not sure how true this is; I don't follow her since she thinks Harry purposely destroyed Louis' career and that's too conspiratorial for me). Was curious if you feel like there's missing evidence out there too, though.

An aside: I think that the reason this is reemerging is that Liam died and now the boys will probably have to publicly acknowledge 1D and the past in a way they haven't. All of them have been candid (to some extent) about 1D but have been able to create distance. And that distance has only grown with time. But now things are at the surface in a way they haven't been since 2015/16. It's a state of tense anticipation.

Hmmmm, not sure what you mean by "missing"? Larry absolutely existed during the band, those fuckers even talk about its origins, lolllll, and there's so much there, like full magazine spreads, magic living in gif form, etc. etc. I personally don't give too much credence to UAs getting exclusive access, it's more like terminally online people gonna terminally online, and receipts are bullshit, forever and always, but that said, I laff and laff about the UAs [??] who got to talk to a drunken Louis who went on about larries being insane, and god bless him, I cannot even IMAGINE what he goes through on that front, because whether they're together or apartTM, who wants someone in their face CONSTANTLY about it? It's actually interesting in the context of what happened with Liam, when you think about it, the ravenous, all-consuming, ever-hungry presence of a fanbase that is never satisfied, how much the pressure of that DID have an impact on Liam for sure, but it does for all of them. Nobody likes to admit their part in it, but you have to think how the relationship side of things absorbs that pressure and how inhumane it is on so many levels, all in the name of "support."

#it's on the surface because some idiot somewhere had the AUDACITY to suggest 1D was going to reunite next year #as a way to mark their anniversary but now they can't #and in what world is that remotely true?! I can imagine a tv special #but someone honestly literally LEGITIMATELY thinks they'd all get together and dance monkey dance for us?!?!#why didn't they do it at the 10-year mark?#i'll tell you why! because they won't! they shan't! (maybe they can't!)#so now some asshole out there made a whisper campaign go viral so people can mourn the loss of something that was never ever gonna happen #poor liam

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pedroscurls · 29 days ago

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let me show you (one-shot)

summary: joel comes home and shows you (and mainly himself) that age is nothing but a number.

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), established relationship, age gap (joel's in his 50s, reader's 30), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, mating press (i feel like this is joel's go-to), doggystyle, cowgirl, multiple creampies (oops), light manhandling, light marking, no use of y/n. word count: 5.5k a/n: so happy to take part at @yxtkiwiyxt's other "never have i ever" challenge for her one year writing anniversary!!! congrats on one year, kiwi - you're such a talented writer that it's so crazy to me that you've only been writing one year! can't wait to see what other stories you create - you got a lifelong fan in me and i'll read everything and everything you write 🫶. i chose joel miller and got the prompt: never have i ever had sex more than 3 times in one night. this is just complete filth, so please heed the warnings and most of all, enjoy <3

The entire drive home, Joel is seething. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. Jaw clenching so hard that he’s sure he’ll end up cracking a tooth or two. He isn’t even sure why he’s so angry, why some other man’s words have such an effect on him.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?”

The frustration radiates through his entire body, tense and tight. The age gap had been something he was wary of in the beginning, but you had always been the one to reassure him that age didn’t matter to you. He tries to hold onto what you would tell him—how safe he makes you feel, the way being in his arms brings you comfort.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?”

He had fired that man the moment it left his lips. Tommy had to hold Joel back, and could see the way his older brother’s eyes darkened with rage. His personal life was off limits. You were off limits. After firing him, Tommy had convinced Joel to go home, that he needed the rest of the day to just cool off.

And now, as he pulls into the driveway, Joel can’t help but hear those man’s words echo in his mind.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?”

He climbs out of his truck and storms inside. He knows you’re already home, knows that you’re probably deep in papers that need grading, knows that you’re going to be surprised to see him home so early…

But Joel is determined—he’s suddenly on a mission to prove to himself that age is nothing but a number.

He drops his keys in the bowl near the door, kicks off his boots and walks upstairs to your office. The door is slightly ajar and he gently kicks it open with his foot. You look up at him and the look of surprise flashes across your face before a large grin lines your lips.

“You’re home,” you set your pen down and stand up from your chair. “Everything okay at work?”

Joel just grunts in response, takes three large strides in your direction before he’s standing in front of you. “Need you,” he growls, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face and past your shoulder. He leans in, presses a soft kiss on your jawline and down the side of your neck.

“Joel,” you whimper, moving your hands to rest on his hips. “Baby, hold on—What happened?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, teeth grazing your pulse point. He hears you let out a whimper and it only fuels him further. Only he could pull those sounds out of you. Age gap, be damned.

You try to push him away to figure out what’s truly going on, but he just wraps his arms around your frame and pulls you flush against him. Joel turns you so you’re leaning against the edge of your desk, your hands moving to his broad chest.

“Joel—”

He pulls back and looks into your eyes. You can visibly see that there’s something bothering him. His gaze is dark, brows slightly furrowed, eyes narrowed, and jaw clenched. “Think you can stop grading for one afternoon, baby?”

“Can you first tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothin’ goin’ on,” he lies, hoisting you up onto the edge of your desk. Joel immediately moves your legs apart as he steps in to stand between them. Slowly, his hands move along your thighs, gaze moving along your frame. There’s a hunger in his eyes, clear determination that you can’t put your finger on.

“You’re lying. You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Joel grunts and moves a hand to your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along your soft skin. “Just wanted to get home to be with my girl, that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” you answer. “But something’s clearly bothering you and—”

“Ain’t nothin’ botherin’ me, darlin’,” he interrupts. “Now, can you stop talkin’ so I can kiss you, hm?”

“Me talking never stopped you before–”

Joel grunts in reply and leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. Immediately, your hands card through his hair, gasping when you feel the urgency of the kiss. His hands roam your body, already sliding them underneath your shirt. The way his lips move against yours—hurried and desperate—catches you off guard and you’re finding it incredibly difficult to keep up. You part your lips, slowly trying to pull away from him to truly get to the root cause for his sudden behavior, but he doesn’t let you.

Instead, his large hands grip your hips, tug you to the edge of your desk so that his jean-covered bulge presses firmly to your already throbbing core. Joel’s lips move effortlessly against your own, tongue darting out to flick against your own. You whimper against him and he growls in response, pulling back only slightly to nibble on your lower lip—this action alone causes your legs to wrap around his waist and pull him even further into you.

“Joel,” you mumble breathlessly, gently tugging on his hair to pull back from him. You’re breathing heavy, lips swollen, eyes dark when you finally look at him.

“Gonna spend the rest of night showing you how much I love you,” he promises, rolling his hips against you.

“Baby,” you moan out quietly. “You always show me how much you love me.”

“Hm,” he answers. “Not enough. Never enough.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Nothing happened at work?”

Joel shakes his head once. “No, now can we stop talkin’ about work?”

You nod and slowly move away from the desk to stand in front of him. You take his hand, play with his fingers before lacing them together with your own. “So, just me and you tonight?”

Joel nods, “just me and you, baby.” He stares at you for a moment and all of a sudden, the man’s words from earlier comes back—serving as a reminder of why he had been upset in the first place.

He releases your hand and tosses you over his shoulder. Joel hears you let out a quiet gasp of surprise, but he begins making his way out of your office and down the hall to the bedroom. It doesn’t take him long, but he can feel the strain in the center of his jeans when your hands begin to roam his body.

Once inside the room, he tosses you onto the mattress. You prop yourself up on your forearms, but Joel—once again—tugs you to the edge of the bed. He wastes no time in hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs with your panties, tossing the articles of clothing carelessly to the side.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself. He parts your legs and licks his lips eagerly, your sex glistening with your own arousal.

Joel reaches down to undo his belt, followed by his zipper and button on his jeans. He pushes them down his legs, kicks them off to the side, and reaches for the ends of his shirt to lift over his head. Now clad in only his boxer briefs, Joel watches you remove your shirt as well, lying back on your forearms once you’re completely bare and naked for him.

He reaches down and squeezes the length of himself, hardening even further at his touch. Joel leans over you, hand pressed on the mattress near your head as his free hand comes to settle between your legs. His fingers begin to make quick work, gathering your arousal on his fingertips as he teases your opening.

“Always this wet for me, aren’t ya?” He whispers, leaning down so that his lips hover near your ear. Joel hears you let out a gasp when he slides in the tip of his middle finger—your walls welcoming him almost immediately.

“J—Joel,” you moan, eyes fluttering. Joel slides his middle finger further into your depths, down to his knuckle, before he pulls it out completely. His entire digit is glistening and he brings it up to his lips, licking and sucking your arousal off his finger.

“Christ,” he groans. “Can never get enough of you.” Then, Joel settles onto his knees in between your legs. He presses soft and light kisses on your inner thigh, gently nipping along the way. Though, once his lips hover near where you need him the most, he lets out the most animalistic growl you’ve ever heard.

You sit up on your forearms, eyes glazing over and beginning to flutter when you feel him lick a stripe along the length of your sex. He keeps his eyes solely focused on you, one hand moving up your body to push you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he whispers. “I got you, baby. Always got you.”

You finally fall onto your back when his lips move towards your clit, tongue flicking against you repeatedly. Your hands move to his hair immediately, pulling and tugging as he applies more pressure.

Joel knows he could do this for the rest of his life if he could. He ruts against the mattress—your sweet taste only fueling him further. He grunts against you when you pull and tug on his hair and he can feel your arousal drip down his chin. He moves his hands to your legs, holding them apart as he pulls back to look down at you.

“Look at you,” he says with a low groan. “Lyin’ there lookin’ so pretty.” Joel doesn’t let you get a word in because he leans back down, grips your thighs, and moves his lips to your sex.

Your back arches—the burn of his beard scratching against your inner thighs, the way his tongue expertly moves in and out of you. A loud moan escapes your lips when you feel his thumb slowly begin to rub circles into your clit. You know you’re close, can feel the pressure building and building. When your eyes lock with Joel’s, you see the corners of his lips lift—the man is fucking grinning.

He pulls away, but before you can whine in protest, he slides two fingers past your folds. Your hands move from his hair to the sheets, gripping it tightly as you feel him expertly begin to move his fingers in and out of your depths. You’re so wet, the sounds of his fingers squelching with each thrust into you mixes in with your moans. Joel knows—he always knows when you’re close.

As he pumps his fingers in and out of you, Joel leans down and latches his lips around your clit. It’s just what you need to be pushed over the edge.

Your back arches in the air, legs attempting to close and squeeze around his head—unintentionally—as your body trembles with pleasure. He slows his movements, pulling back and away from you. His fingers easily slide out of you—your arousal already staining the sheets of the mattress.

You’re breathing heavily when you finally look in his direction. You can see your arousal glistening on his chin, over his beard. You watch him push his boxers down, his manhood springing at attention. Clearing your throat, you slowly turn on to your abdomen as he stands upright. Before he could even say anything, you reach out and wrap your hands gently around the base of his length.

You glance up at him—there’s just something in the way he’s standing above you that causes a shiver to run through you. He reaches down, gently pushes your hair away from your face, thumb brushing against your jawline.

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers. His eyes flutter for a moment when you slowly begin to stroke the base of his manhood. When you lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip, Joel moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head as a low groan escapes his lips.

You hum in approval, feeling his hand slowly push your head down against him. You get the hint—moving one hand from his base to rest on his hip as you take more of him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him as your other hand strokes what your mouth can’t take.

When you glance up at him, Joel’s head is tilted back—neck outstretched, veins more prominent, broad chest heaving up and down, and his lower lip pulled between his teeth. He always looked so beautiful like this.

Suddenly, you feel his fingers curl into your hair and pull you away from his slickened length—it glistens with your saliva.

You whine in protest, trying to lean forward to wrap your lips back around his throbbing manhood, but he clicks his tongue and holds you away from him.

“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he admits honestly. “And tonight, I want you as many times as I can.”

“Joel,” you bite your lower lip, hands moving up his chest. “Once is enough and—”

He shakes his head and pushes you onto your back. His strong arm wraps around your waist and slides you further up onto the mattress as he settles himself between your legs. Joel stares into your eyes and with his free hand, grasps his length to run his tip along the length of your sex. He gathers your arousal around his tip, growling lowly to himself as he notches himself at your entrance.

“Not tonight it isn’t,” he finally answers, pushing fully into you in one long and deep stroke. Joel groans when your walls envelope him—warm, wet, tight. He always loves it when he thrusts into you for the first time because it serves as a reminder of how perfectly you were made for him. He sees the way your face contorts into pleasure—mouth slightly agape and brows furrowed with a quiet whimper escaping your lips; he finds it so cute how you always try to hold back your sounds of pleasure.

“J—Joel,” you moan, hands moving to come up to rest on his broad shoulders.

Something in him snaps and there’s a primal urge that courses through his veins as he stares down at you. Joel takes your hands from his shoulders, gently placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, before he grabs your legs and places them over his shoulders instead. At the new position, he feels himself slide further into your depths and it only urges him further. He pushes into you, his own hands resting at either side of you as he pulls out to his tip only to thrust back into you.

You’re folded in half—body beginning to tremble already as he picks up the pace in his thrusts. You had a very healthy sex life with Joel, but this time… this time it feels so different. It feels like he’s on a mission to prove something to himself.

The sound of his skin smacking against yours echo the walls of the bedroom, your moans increasingly becoming louder and louder. Your hands move to his lower abdomen in an attempt to push him away because you feel the pressure creep up once more. He growls in response and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Close huh, baby?,” he growls.

“Joel, p—please,” you whimper, toes curling. You can’t move—hands pressed into the mattress, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his entire body pressing into you. It’s by far the most intimate position you’ve ever experienced and the way he’s slamming into you pushes you over the edge.

“Joel!” You moan loudly, walls already clenching around him as your body trembles once another orgasm takes over your entire frame.

“Fuck,” Joel groans, releasing your wrists to rest his own large hands on your hips. His own thrusts begin to falter as he feels his release begin to creep up quickly. He tries to think of something else, tries to make this last longer, but the way you’re tightening around him just pushes him over.

He slams into you once, twice, three times before he releases into you. Joel lets out a guttural groan, the hands on your hips tightening its grip as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Slowly, Joel moves your legs from his shoulders to instead wrap around his waist loosely and he looks down between your bodies to see his spend trickling out of you once he pulls out.

You’re breathing heavily, staring up at him with a dazed look on your face. You gently reach up to touch his cheek, feel him lean into the pit of your palm as he stares deeply into your eyes. “Where did that come from?”

Joel shrugs and gently pecks your lips. “Just wanted you, baby.” Slowly, he pulls away from you and stands from the bed to grab a wet and warm towel to wipe his release from between your legs. He watches you shiver against his touch, eyes fluttering when the towel brushes against your most sensitive areas and he smirks.

“Joel,” you whimper.

“Sorry,” he grins proudly. Once you’re cleaned up, he sets the towel in the laundry basket and then falls back onto the bed with you. You lie on your side and he comes up behind you, arm draped over your midsection as he brings you flush against him. He peppers light kisses along the back of your bare shoulder. “Love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” you tilt your head back against his shoulder and shut your eyes. “Made me tired,” you whisper, voice trailing off. “Didn’t even have dinner yet.”

He chuckles and shuts his eyes, holding you close. “How about we take a short nap and then I’ll feed you, hm? That sound like a plan?”

“Yes,” you reply with a small smile, turning your head just enough to press a soft kiss onto his cheek. “Maybe you should come home early more often,” you giggle.

Joel’s jaw tightens as the man’s words echo in his mind again. He doesn’t reply—just holds you closer to him and feels you relax in his embrace.

Joel awakes almost an hour later—you’re still leaning back against him and his arm is still wrapped around you from behind. He can hear your quiet breathing, takes a peek in your direction to see you peacefully asleep. He feels you shift back against him and he’s suddenly aware of the lack of clothing that you both are wearing.

His mind drifts momentarily, remembering the events that unfolded just an hour ago. He can still feel the anger bubbling within him, can still hear that man’s voice echo in his mind.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?”

His arm remains draped over your waist and his large hand soon encompasses your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple. He hears you let out a quiet moan and Joel can feel his lower half begin to stir. He’s surprised that after an hour, he can feel himself getting hard all over again.

Slowly, Joel presses himself firmly against you from behind and moves his lips along the side of your neck. As he begins to pepper light kisses on your skin, his hand begins to massage your breast into the pit of his palm. He hears your breathing quicken and quietly—in that sweet voice of yours—you say his name.

“Joel,” you whimper.

“Shh,” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. Joel releases his hold on you and gently moves you to lie on your abdomen. He quickly moves to hover above you, his legs placed on either side of you. His large hands move to your backside, spreading your cheeks apart as he lets out a low growl at the sight of you. “Can’t get enough of you,” Joel growls.

He grasps his hardening length, tugs on it twice before he presses his tip into your slit. Slowly, Joel pushes his hips forward—you’re already so wet and gripping the head of manhood as he pushes himself further into you.

Your hand reaches back for him, trying to press against his lower abdomen to stop him from pushing any further. You’re already so sensitive—walls quivering as he grabs both your wrists to hold against your lower back. With one stroke, Joel fills you to the brim and he feels you begin to squirm against him.

“Joel!” you exclaim, eyes falling shut as you press your forehead against the mattress. He feels so much bigger like this and when he pulls his hips back—your walls sliding along his length—only to slide back into you, it causes a loud moan to escape your lips.

“H—-how?” you mumble, feeling his hand release your wrists only to grip your hips, pulling you to prop yourself up on all fours.

Joel doesn’t reply, the man’s words echoing in his mind with each thrust.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” — thrust.

Your hands grip the sheets so tight because Joel’s never been this rough before. With each thrust, Joel’s jaw tightens. He grips the back of your neck and pushes you face down onto the mattress as he slams into you repeatedly from behind. His skin slaps against your own and you can feel the tight grip he has around your hips—knowing that there’s going to be bruises there later.

“J—Joel!” you moan into the mattress, pushing back against him as you feel yourself begin to reach yet another orgasm. Your walls begin to tremble, can feel a rush of wetness between your legs and the pleasure racking through your entire body.

“Fuck,” he finally moans—your walls tightening around his length in a tight grip. Joel leans over you, hand moving from the back of your neck to grab a fistful of your hair to lift your head off the mattress. He breathes heavily into your ear as his thrusts begin to falter. “Come for me,” he demands, thrusting into you that your body jerks forward.

“I—I can’t,” you whimper. Your entire body is on fire and you’re so close to the edge, but you’re holding back… and Joel knows because his eyes narrow at your words and he leans down to gently bite down on the side of your neck.

“I said,” he groans, delivering yet another hard thrust. “Come for me.”

With his free hand, Joel reaches down and begins to circle your clit. It’s just the right amount of pressure for you to reach your peak. Your toes curl and your eyes shut tight as a loud moan escapes your lips. Joel smirks proudly, releasing his hold on your hair as he grips your hip instead.

Joel delivers one, two, three thrusts before he releases into you. His eyes fall shut, head tilted back as he tries to catch his breath, slowing his thrusts as your walls continue to milk every last drop. When he finally pulls out, Joel opens his eyes to watch his release slowly drip out of you and onto your inner thighs.

He bites his lower lip and falls back onto the bed next to you, lying on his back as he glances over at you.

“Well,” you whisper, looking over at him. “That was something.”

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks with soft eyes—his big, brown, puppy eyes staring at you with concern now that his mind is clear.

“Would you hate me if I said it wasn’t enough?” you tease, leaning over to peck his lips. “You promised me food and instead…”

“You were just so…” Joel bites his lower lip, his gaze raking over your frame with lust-filled eyes. “Inviting.”

“Maybe I should sleep naked more often,” you grin, standing up from the bed to walk towards the bathroom to clean yourself up.

“If you do that, ain’t nothin’ gonna get done,” he chuckles. Joel stands up as well, walking after you as he wraps his arms around you from behind. “What does my girl want to eat?”

“Can you order a pizza?” you smile, wiping his release from between your legs. You toss the tissue into the trash and then lean back against him, head resting against his chest.

“Of course, baby,” he smiles, turning his head to kiss your temple.

You take note of the marks on your hips and the darkening spot on the side of your neck. You bite your lower lip and slowly turn in Joel’s arms, staring up at him as your arms wrap around his neck. “Gonna have these marks on me for a few days at least.”

Joel arches a brow, eyes glancing down at the mark on your neck before his gaze lowers to your hips. He blushes and rests his forehead against your own. “Sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be,” you smile, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, small smile lining his lips.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m all yours, so let’s let the entire world know,” you tease.

“Naughty,” Joel chuckles.

“Only for you.”

Joel growls, hand moving to grasp your backside. “I like the sound of that.”

“Mmm,” you smile. “I don’t think I can go another round,” you say honestly. “I’m sensitive all over and I’m hungry.”

Joel leans in, pecks your lips lightly as he pulls away slowly. “Maybe you just need some food because I am determined to have you one more time before we call it a night.”

“One more time?” you ask, eyes widening. “We’ve already had sex twice in the last hour or so and—”

“Then we’ll eat dinner and I’ll have you again,” Joel interrupts with a grin. “Don’t put anythin’ on. I’ll have pizza delivered.”

“You want me to walk around like this?”

“Yes,” Joel growls.

“Yes, sir,” you smile innocently.

About thirty minutes later, you and Joel are in the kitchen with an opened box of pizza. He’s dressed only in a pair of boxers, but you’re completely naked—just like he said you should be. You’re sitting on the edge of the kitchen island with a slice of pizza in hand, humming contentedly as you take a bite.

“Good?” Joel asks with a grin, his own slice of pizza in his hand.

“Very,” you smile, finishing your first slice of pizza in record time. You see Joel arch a brow and you just roll your eyes playfully. “I gained an appetite.”

Joel chuckles to himself and moves to stand between your legs. “You did, huh? Why’s that?”

“I came like three times already, baby,” you tell him, reaching for another slice of pizza. “I really don’t think I can do any more than that. I’m already—My body’s just so sensitive.”

“Oh?” he asks, eyes looking at you from top to bottom. He moves his hands to your thighs and gently spreads them apart, looking between your legs to see your sex glistening. “How come you’re wet then, hm?”

“Joel…” you whisper, setting the slice of pizza down as you wipe your hands with a paper towel. “I’m just—I’m always wet whenever I’m around you.”

“That so?”

You nod, feeling his finger run along the length of your sex, gathering your arousal. You let out a quiet whimper, a shiver running down your body at the sensation. “Joel, baby…”

“Always so ready for me, ain’t you?”

You nod, biting your lower lip. “Joel,” you repeat. “I—If we have sex one more time, I won’t last long and—”

“Shh,” he interrupts. “Let me just take care of you, baby.” Joel lifts you off the counter and sets you down onto your feet. He leads you to the couch in the living room where he takes a seat and shimmies out of his boxers, kicking them carelessly off to the side. He can already feel himself getting hard as he grasps his length and begins to stroke himself to full mast. “Come on, baby,” he urges, pointing to his lap with his chin.

You nod and straddle his lap as your hands move to his shoulders. You slowly lower your hips to feel the tip of his manhood brush against you. Gasping, you lift your hips and stare into his eyes. Joel’s gaze darkens and he moves a hand to your hip, gripping it tightly as he pushes you onto him. Your walls—so wet—encompasses him tightly and he tilts his head back against the couch, a low groan escaping his lips.

Joel feels so deep like this and you begin to roll your hips forward and backward. The hair at his base brushes against your clit and your body begins to tremble already. Your hips move so slowly because that’s all you can take right now, but Joel… It’s not enough for him. Even with your fingernails digging into his shoulders, gripping it so tight, Joel needs more.

He moves his hands underneath you and lifts you slightly off his lap—just enough to give him space to begin thrusting upwards. Joel growls to himself as he looks up at you, your breasts bouncing as he thrusts upwards.

“Joel!” you moan loudly, wrapping your arms around him as you press your front against him—holding onto him tightly. “Baby, please…”

“You feel so good around me, baby,” Joel whispers into your hair, eyes falling shut. “Always so wet for me, always so tight… Fuck, you were made for me.”

“J—Joel,” you whimper, feeling his hands move to your hips instead as you roll your hips against his own. You keep your tight hold onto him, gasping quietly as you feel your walls begin to tremble yet again.

“Yes,” he groans, arms wrapping around your waist to guide you forward and backward on his lap. Joel knows he won’t be able to last either—he’s surprised that he was even able to recover so quickly in the span of two hours to do this three times.

“Love seein’ you like this,” he says quietly, feeling your arms unwrap itself around his shoulders. Joel feels your hands move to rest on his shoulders as you ride him like your life depended on it. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he grins, eyes scanning your face before his gaze lowers to your naked frame.

“Joel, baby… I—”

“I know,” he whispers. “Let go for me, darlin’. I got you.”

“Fuck!” you moan, head tilting back as you move your hips forward and backward quickly. Your body shakes with pleasure as the tightness builds and builds until you can no longer take it. You collapse into Joel, breathing heavily.

Joel groans to himself as he grips your hips, guiding you along his length as he chases his own release. It doesn’t take long because when you whisper his name, he feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach break until he releases into you for the final time that night.

Joel rests his forehead against your own, feeling himself soften while still inside of you and he makes no move in lifting you off his lap. Even as he feels his seed trickle down to the hair at his base, Joel keeps you seated on his lap, strong arms embracing you.

“Thank god it’s the weekend tomorrow,” you whisper with a quiet giggle.

“Why’s that?” he asks with a small smile.

“Because I’m sure that I’d have trouble walking,” you answer.

“You’re good for my ego,” he chuckles.

“Where did all of that come from?” you ask honestly.

Joel shrugs, staring into your eyes. “Nowhere.”

“You’re lying.”

He sighs and finally asks, “Does our age gap bother you?”

“What?”

“I’m old enough to be your father–”

“I don’t care,” you interrupt him. “Our age gap means nothing to me…”

“But it should, shouldn’t it?”

“A bit too late for that, don’t you think?” You shake your head, lifting your left hand in the air and taking his left hand in your other one, showcasing both of your wedding rings. “We’re married now, baby. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Some– Some asshole made a comment and it just got to me,” Joel sighs.

“Did this happen at work?”

“Yeah,” he answers truthfully. “Fired him and Tommy had to stop me from doin’ somethin’ stupid and I just—” he sighs.

“Well, you just proved that age is nothing but a number, Joel. We had sex three times in the last two hours… And I’ve never had sex more than three times in one night so…”

Joel lets a small smile line his lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head. “You’d be the first.”

“And your last,” Joel finishes. “I’m sorry it got me,” he sighs. “I don’t usually care what other people have to say about our relationship, but for some reason… This just got to me.”

“If our gap bothered me, I wouldn’t have married you,” you say quietly, hands coming up to gently brush his hair away from his face. “I love you. All of you.”

“Even if I’m some old man?”

“An old man wouldn’t have been able to do what we just did,” you smile.

He chuckles and gently pecks your lips. “Love you so much, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Joel.” Slowly, you stand from his lap with a quiet whimper as you extend a hand out for him. “What do you say we take a shower and then spend the rest of the night cuddling?”

Joel smiles lovingly in your direction and stands from the couch, taking your hand. “That sounds like a great way to end the night, baby.”

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sobbingscripter · 3 months ago

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Tags: [mlw][aged up][mdni][friends][little bit of crack][missionary][loss of v-card][tiny tags][bickering][breeding kink if you narrow your eyes][porn with plot]

"I've watched enough porn to know how to do it, dumbass."

"Yeah? And I don't trust you near my coochie. You crushed a Pepsi can with your finger today."

"Don't say 'coochie'."

"What then? Pussy?" You scoff.

"Vagina."

And you lower the Cosmopolitan magazine, your expression bored and upper lip curled in distaste as you watch Mark, reclined on his bed as he absentmindedly tosses a paper ball into the air, catching it with ease, only to throw it back up.

The motion is repetitive, boring to watch but you can't deny the appeal of watching that little muscle in his forearm twitch beneath his skin.

"I'll call my genitalia whatever I want, thank you very much. And you shouldn't mimic porn." You state. "A lot of that stuff isn't real and pardon me, but I want an actual orgasm when I lose my virginity."

Mark let's out a snort of laughter, perching up and resting his weight in his elbows, the edge of his sweater raising the tiniest bit and you catch a peek of a neat, dark little happy trail that disappears beneath the fabric of his clothing.

"I can guarantee an orgasm." Mark boasts. "I'll bet anything."

"If I don't cum, I want you to grow a full bush and then, wear cycling shorts for a week."

Your wager has Mark's lips pursing, chocolate pools moving towards the ceiling as he weighs his options. "Oddly specific but okay." Mark shrugs. "And if you cum, anytime I learn a sex trick, I get to try it on you. Unless you get into a relationship but," he snorts, "let's be realistic."

The insult has you flinging the magazine across the bedroom, hitting Mark in the face with the spine and he winces, although, you know it's more out of habit than from actual feeling.

"It's so weird." He mumbles. "I don't feel your abuse anymore."

Mark's grin is cocky.

"Oh, Marky," you coo, lifting yourself from his desk chair and you cradle his face in your hands, an action that's so familiarly condescending but Mark can't help but lean into your warm palms, "you're only unaffected by the physical abuse. I can still hurt you self-esteem."

Mark's eyes narrow at you. "Try it." There's a challenge in his voice that you just can't ignore. Especially when he's looking at you like that. Brown eyes trained intensely on you, black strands tousled ever so slightly from the long day he's had.

"You have feminine hands." And you swear, the way his expression falls is an aphrodisiac in of itself before you straighten up.

"It's easy to hurt your ego, Marky." You hum. "Heroes get a lot of hate if they do something wrong. But lucky for you, you have years of experience."

"Yeah," Mark hums, "no one's a bigger dick than you."

"It's so weird that you're losing your virginity on your parents' anniversary." You hum quietly, carefully traveling along the sides of Mark's bedroom, attaching the LED light strips along the cornish.

"Don't make it weird." Mark grumbles, stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fuzzy robe as he towel dries his hair, messy strands poking in every direction and he watches you with amusement. "Their anniversary is like, the only time when they travel far enough that I can't hear them. So.... It's the only night I can do it."

"They probably don't want you to hear them fucking." You hum, almost absentmindedly and when Mark gags, you let out a laugh and your foot slips from the backrest of his desk chair, and you slip.

But instead of meeting the carpeted floor in an unceremonious crash, you instead crash into Mark's chest, his arms wrapped around your midsection and your knees tucked up. And he dips his head low, head tilted.

"You okay?"

And if your pussy didn't have a heartbeat before, it does now. The way he looks down at you, his expression so soft, brows creased in concern and his lips. So soft and inviting, the scent of mint lingering in the air and you nod your head.

"Mhm," you mutter quietly, "I'm okay."

Mark sets you on your feet, before examining where you had stuck the lights and he nods his head, a grin cocking at his lips.

"Yeah, this is a mood setter."

"Can I open my eyes now?" Mark grumbles, arms folded over his chest but his eyes are closed, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones and you let out a hum.

"Go ahead." You mumble and he allows his eyes to open and drink in the sight of you.

Freshly showered, steam still rising from your skin and in his T-shirt. The faded Batman shirt ends just below your crotch, your ankle socks aren't even matching and your hair's tied into a bun that looks so half-assed.

You look nervous. Eyes lowered to the carpet and Mark reaches forward, large hands bracketing your hips and his thumbs brush over the trimming of your panties. And he pulls you to stand between his thighs, his head tips back and his chin comes up to rest on your sternum as he stares up at you.

"We don't have—" "I want to." You interrupt him, your hands raising to rest on either side of his neck, thumbs brushing along his jawline. "I want to." You repeat quietly, looking down at Mark.

The plan is to lose your virginities before the gap year is over. Because you'd both much rather make a mistake with each other than with strangers.

"Move your hand."

Mark lets out a snicker of laughter, your thighs tossed over his and his tip notched at your entrance, and he can barely think.

Not when he knows how tightly you felt around his fingers, sucking him in with such a neediness, not when he saw the way your brows knitted into the prettiest little pinched expression when his tongue lapped against your clit just right.

"I looked at the logistics of it and it's not gonna fit."

You state, and those pretty brown eyes roll at your words, before Mark slaps your hand away, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock and he taps it against your clit. Just to watch the way your stomach caves in with an unsteady breath.

"It'll fit." Mark reassures. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

And you let out a laugh, your body slumped against the mattress and you snort.

"No you're n—nahh..."

Mark watches the way your head tips back when he pushes his tip past the ring of muscle, and he watches the way your eyes shut, brows knitting into a pinch.

"You little... Fuck.."

You breathe out, your expression a little pouty frown and Mark moves a strand of hair out of your face, leaning forward and as he presses a kiss to your forehead, he pushes another inch inside.

And as you gasp, his lips press against yours, and Mark swallows each moan and groan of pain, his forearm supporting his weight while his other hand grips your hip, thumb brushing over the protruding bone of your hip and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

"You're so warm..." Mark murmurs into the kiss, but he keeps his hips still, slotted between your thighs and he feels your gummy walls pulsing around him, trying to get used to the intrusion. And Mark lifts his head, kissing the apples of your cheeks.

"So I'm big, huh?"

He teases and watching as your pained expression gives way to an annoyed expression, eyes bored and brows furrowed.

"Just fuck me already."

You grumble.

And Mark pulls out, until just the rosy tip of his cock is poked into your sopping cunt, before he slowly pushes back into you.

The stretch burns, and you can feel the way your nails dig into your palms and you take a deep breath. His hips are pressed against yours, and you can feel that painful pinch behind your navel.

"Are you inside yet?" You question, peeking up at Mark through your lashes, enough to watch the way that dorkish grin spread across his face as he readjusts his position, leaning forward and shifting himself to rest more comfortably.

"Ha-ha, very funny." He rolls his eyes, his voice just a tad breathy and his hands move, thumbs moving your pussy lips out of the way, spreading them so he can see the pinkish flesh that swallows him whole.

"Mark!" You hiss, swatting away his hands, and covering your folds from his view. "What are you doing?"

"They do it in porn!" He defends, moving his hands to rest on your hips instead as his hips slowly begin to roll against you, the soft strands of his happy trail tickles your neglected and swollen clit, and you take a shaky breath.

"Those people are ass naked." You deadpan. "You've never even seen my feet."

With one hand, Mark shifts the covers and lets out a bark of laughter at the sight of your socks, still on your feet. And he reaches back for your ankle, lifting your leg and he places a soft kiss on the inside of your foot, causing your walls to flutter around him.

His kiss is warm through the cotton, a lingering show of affection as his hips thrust, cock nudging your insides to his shape. And he lowers your foot.

"Put your foot on my chest. I wanna try something." Mark hums quietly, resting your sock covered foot on his chest. And you let out a snort.

"My pussy isn't a skate park. You can't try things you've never done." You huff, but you comply, keeping your foot against his brawny chest, even as Mark shifts you into position, straddling your one thigh and resting your foot on his chest.

And when he moves, your foot slides off his chest, instead, resting beside him. And a snicker slips past your lips at the frustrated expression on his face.

"Please participate." Mark grumbles, moving your foot, and resting your leg over his shoulder, ignoring the way a laugh ruptures from your lips.

Kiss-swollen and pouty lips curling into a wicked grin.

"Bro said 'please par—'... Shit..."

Your eyes roll back in your head when the divot of Mark's tip presses against your cervix, pressing a sloppy, slick kiss against the plug as he grinds into you, leaning forward and pressing his lips against the curve of your jaw.

Mark isn't even fucking you anymore.

He's slowly rutting into you, pressing adorning kisses to the side of your face, sucking marks into the supple skin of your neck while he slowly fucks an orgasm out of you.

Kissing you deeply, his hand grasping the fat of your hip while the other massages the plumpness of your thigh, pressing a warm kiss against your calf before going back to swallowing your honeyed moans.

"... shit, you're gonna make me come..." You breathe out, your nails dragging lines down the expanse of his muscular and slightly damp back, the pain and pleasure mixing into a delicious concoction that has Mark burying his face into your neck.

Inhaling the scent of you.

"Mhm.... 's okay, baby, come for me..."

His voice is husky, a low timbre that makes your stomach knot and you whine when you feel that wave of ecstasy crash over you, waves breaking on the jagged rocks of your being and you're lashes flutter, tears brimming on your lower lashline because you're just so... Full.

Mark perches up, wiping the teardrops from your cheeks and he looks down at your hazy and flushed expression. His gaze lingering on your lips, wet and rosy, and before he even registers, your hand is on his face.

"Stop making such heavy eye contact." You whine. "You're gonna make me catch feelings."

And a laugh tumbles from his lips.

"You know, I have your entire future in my hands right now." Mark states quietly and when you hum, quietly mumbling a 'how do you mean', he simply presses a kiss against your pulse.

"I could fuck a baby into you right now." Mark breathes out.

"And you'd thank me for it."

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader smut #invincible #invincible x reader #invincible x reader smut #sobbingscripter #invincible mark grayson #mark grayson smut #invincible show #invincible comic

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biteyoubiteme · 6 months ago

Text

blue raspberry flavored

soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: he’s so cute when he asks, he’s even cuter when he doesn’t

warnings: 🔞!!! breeding kink, baby trapper, dubcon/manipulation, nipple/breast play, use of teeth, marking, no protection, creampie, talk of pregnancy, soobin calls reader bunny a few times prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.5k

an: don't know how this one will go over but hope you guys like it feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here [dumdum m.list]

Soobin was never really forgetful of anything. He never forgot your birthday, missed an anniversary, messed up on your coffee order, he never even had to write down what he needed when he went grocery shopping. But bringing a condom always seemed to slip his mind.

At first it was easy to write off in the beginning of your relationship, every time the two of you got closer to having sex and not just messy make outs every pouty ‘its okay ill just pull out’ sounded more and more appealing. But you bought a box of condoms for your apartment and didn't realize the way his jaw clicked at the sight of them.

Soon after soobin was suddenly into pda. Purposefully teasing you out in public, hand slipping up your thigh under the table at a friends house, pulling you into heady kisses out at events, pushing you into bathroom stalls to try and undress you. You didn't make the connection until later that he was avoiding taking you home. ‘I just can't wait i need you right now,’

He knew exactly what to say for you to fold, slowly chipping away at the idea that the two of you even needed protection at all. It was so easy for you to remember when in your own bed, the nightstand right there. But in the back of the car with his lips all over you, hands kneading your thighs, pushing your knees apart; you let so much slide. Mumblings for him to pull out lost between moans. Where was he supposed to cum in the car anyways? He’d hate to ruin the interior or your pretty skirt.

In the beginning it wasn't so bad, soobin could restrain himself. If you two didn't use a condom he would make sure to pull out and if you did use one he was easy to comply. But it only took one time and it was an accident, a real accident where he didn't pull out fast enough. It was in the mix of his fucked out apology that he realized he wasnt sorry at all, not when he was watching the way your abused cunt was pushing out his cum and all he could really think about was going right back in for more.

post nut he was a bit ashamed but as soon as he thought about it for long enough he had his hand down his pants begging in an empty room to get you pregnant. And when you're ovulating it's only worse. Not only does he know it would be so easy to knock you up but it's like you're beckoning him to do it. Your hands squeezing your boobs, pushing up your bra while you're watching movies together. “Ugh im so sore,” the pout on your lips instantly makes him hard. His imagination taking over thinking about just how big they would get if he did get you pregnant.

And when you wear that tiny little tank top he is insatiable. Nipples peeking through the thin fabric as you lay against the pillows on the bed. You didn't even notice that soobin is paying no attention to the tv, his eyes watching the way your chest rises and falls. Adjusting in his seat to not make it too obvious he was already leaking in his sweatpants. Only it does the exact opposite, your eyes drawn to the bulge outlined in the gray fabric.

“Need help there?” it's the slight invitation he needs to roll over on top of you, lips working down your throat, hips rutting against yours.

“Please bunny, i need you,” he begs as you run your fingers through his hair pushing the strands behind his ears. Pleading brown eyes working on you instantly, he was always so desperate to have you and he knew it always made him get what he wanted.

He tugs down your tank top far enough for your boobs to spill out, hands reaching up to cup them both, thumbs sliding over your skin as he groans. “Look at your pretty nipples,” he squeezes his hands, pushing them together to watch the way your cleavage deepens.

You whine softly, “gentle i'm still tender,” the reminder only adding to his want, mouth coming down to suck on your nipple, your moan going straight to his aching cock.

Kneading the handfuls he has of your breasts, your back arches, lips popping off obscenely from one nipple only to capture the next. He's rough as he massages, your nails scratching along his scalp, his moans reverberating through your chest as he swirls his tongue over the hard bud.

He's humping you like you don't have layers of clothes separating you two, every slow drag of his hips pressing his hardness right against your clit, his teeth softly biting at your nipple tugging to watch how you react. Soobin knows that getting you off at least once before actually fucking you led to your inhibitions being weakned enough to forget about the condom all together. His hand slipped down between you two, pushing past your waistband to rub on your clit.

Lips coated in his spit he starts sucking marks along your chest, watching the way your head rolls back, fingers sliding through your slick as your hips buck up into his hand. He knows your body well enough to see the first orgasm coming, relishing in the way you tremble against him. With no time to let you ride out your high he's pulling down your shorts and panties, kicking off his sweats using all your wetness to lube up his cock.

But even in your haze you reach out beside you fumbling for the drawer to the nightstand pulling out the little shiny packet. You don't even see the disappointment on his face as you rip open the packet helping to slide the condom on him.

And he wants to be good, truly, only when he slowly pushes in he cant think about anything else except fucking you hard enough the condom breaks, neither of you knowing until its too late, until all his cum is spilling out of you. It’s that thought alone that makes him pull all the way out, his fingers slipping along the condom as he tugs it off. “What-”

“It's okay,” he mutters, tossing the condom to the pile of your clothes on the floor. “I need to feel all of you please,” and he tries to kiss away the worry on your mouth, and you shake your head.

“No you need another one we have extra in the nightstand,” but he's already prodding your entrance, tip slipping in as he begs, "I'll just pull out I promise, please, please,"

You don't even get to respond before his hips slam into yours, fully seating himself inside you, promptly shutting up anything else you could say. Even if after the two of you were done you were upset it's not like you would leave him would you? Not if he got you pregnant, the two of you were ready, and he'd take such good care of you. “Fuck,” his drawn out moan pressed right into your neck as he bullies his cock into you, “you feel amazing bunny,”

You're clinging to him, moans mixing with the obscene wet sounds coming from between you two. “Soobin s-slow down,” but you're not sure you want him to, not when he's hitting just the perfect spot inside of you, pressed so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“No,” he pants pulling you closer, “im going to stuff you full of my fucking cum, we will stay here all night if we have to,” your clenching gummy walls aiding him on. “Don't you want my baby?”

You can't even think straight let alone answer his question, his long fingers moving to work on your clit, “you'd be so pretty full of me, my cum, my baby, everyone would know youre all mine,”

The room is full of your desperate moans, your legs wrapping around him as if you could pull him any closer. “You like that idea huh?”

“Y-yes,” you're practically crying, tears welling up in your eyes, “i want it, please,”

That alone makes soobins balls tighten, cock jerking inside you before he spills the biggest load he's ever had inside you. He presses his hips against yours making sure you're flush together as you cum, fluttering walls sucking him in deeper milking him dry of all he has. He takes your hand in his lowering it to press over your pelvis, pressing it down enough to make you moan, “i don't think once will do it,” deep slow thrusts pushing his cum further in making you dizzy, “but you did such a good job im sure you can handle the rest,"

a very special thank you to @aduh0308 and @chyuuiung for beta/proof reading this for me ily you're the best

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572  @tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553  @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5  @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin txt #txt soobin #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #txt x reader #txt smut #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #kpop smut #kinktober

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starsenha · 7 months ago

Text

JUST THIS ONCE / P.J

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x dom!bf!jay

Genre ◊ SMUT, established relationship, fluff at the end

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), cursing, neck kisses, marking, petnames (baby, doll, good girl...), rough sex, jay ripped reader's dress, reader wears lingerie, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do it), posessive!jay??, spanking, praising, multiple orgasms, aftercare, jay proposes to reader at the end

Word count ◊ 3k

Summary ◊ it was your third anniversary with your boyfriend and he had planned to take you to a nice fancy restaurant to celebrate, but he kinda changed his plans when he saw you in your dress.

a/n: thank you anon for making this request! not proofread, enjoy!

Your apartment was relatively quiet, except for the soft music playing in the background, blending with the faint scent of lavender from the candles you had lit earlier. It was your third anniversary with Jay, and the excitement was palpable. You stood in front of the mirror, meticulously putting on the final touches of your makeup. The soft light from the vanity highlighted your features, making you glow even more than usual.

Jay had been your rock for the past three years. His love for you was unwavering, and it showed in every little thing he did. Tonight, he planned a special dinner to celebrate your relationship, and you were both eagerly looking forward to it.

As you picked up your favorite pair of earrings, you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door. Glancing in the mirror, you saw Jay standing in the doorway, a tender smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with admiration as he took in the sight of you.

"You look absolutely stunning," he said, his voice filled with awe.

You chuckled softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "You say that every single day, you know."

"Because it's the truth." Jay stepped into the room, his gaze never leaving you. "I'm serious, every time I see you, it's like I'm falling in love all over again."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. You turned back to the mirror, slipping on your earrings. As you did, Jay walked up behind you, sliding his arms around your waist. His hands rested on your hips, and he pulled you gently against him.

"Are you trying to distract me?" you teased, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Maybe," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I just can't help it. You look incredible, baby."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your skin. His touch was electric, sending waves of warmth through your body. You leaned back into him, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. He started with gentle pecks, then his kisses became more open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You knew how sensitive you were there, and Jay knew it too. He was taking full advantage.

“Jong,” you breathed out, trying to keep your composure as a wave of heat coursed through you. “We have reservations. We can’t be late.”

His hands began to wander, one sliding up to your shoulder to gently tug at the strap of your dress. The silky fabric slipped down, exposing more of your skin to his eager mouth. His other hand pressed against your stomach, holding you firmly in place.

“I don’t give a shit about that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice low and husky. “You look so fucking good in that dress. I can’t help myself.”

You tried to protest, but your words came out weak and breathy. “We really should—”

He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re hungry, I get it. But I need you right now, more than anything.”

His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. The kiss deepened, and you could feel his need for you in every movement, every touch.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless. He looked at you with a cocky, playful grin. “I’ll cook something for you later, i promise, and I'll reschedule the reservation. Right now, I need you.”

You bit your lip, torn between your hunger and the intense desire building within you. “Jay, we really should go to dinner…”

He cut you off with another kiss, his hands roaming your body with a possessive intensity. “You’re enjoying this, don’t lie,” he said against your lips, his voice a teasing growl.

You couldn’t deny it. The way he was touching you, the way he was making you feel, it was intoxicating. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he was doing it with expert precision.

“Just a little longer,” he murmured, his lips moving back to your neck. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

His hands slipped under your dress, and you felt your resolve weakening. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You knew you should insist on leaving, but in that moment, all you wanted was him.

“Jay…” you whispered, your voice a mix of need and surrender.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of love and lust. “I love you,” he said softly, his hands still exploring. “And I need you right now, baby. Please.”

You gave in, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. “Okay,” you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest. “But just this once.”

He grinned. “That’s my good little girl.”

The moment those words left his mouth, something shifted in him. His eyes darkened and he captured your mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. There was no gentleness anymore, only raw passion His hands gripped your hips, pulling you tightly against him as his tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you completely.

His lips quickly found your neck for the third time that night, but this time, he was much more insistent. He nipped and sucked at your skin, parking you with dark bruises. He loved marking you, reminding everyone you were his and his only. Each hickeys sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making the wetness between your legs even more prominent.

With a rough yank, he tore the dress apart, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room. "My dress!" you exclaimed as you stared at him in shock.

He only smirked, his eyes boring into yours. "I'll buy you another one doll, don't worry," he said casually, a little too casually. You were left standing in your favorite set of lingerie, the white lace set you knew drove him completely wild everytime you wore it. His eyes raked over you, taking in every detail, and he chuckled darkly. "Look at you, wearing my favorite set. What a naughty girl. Did you plan this, or are you just that fucking desperate for me?"

You felt your cheeks burn at his words, and you felt your white panties getting completely drenched. As you didn't respond, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Answer me, doll. Did you dress like that because you wanted me to ruin you?"

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't... I mean, I..."

He laughed soflty, his grip on your chine tightening. "You did, didn't you? You wanted this. You wanted me to take you. Well congratulations, sweetheart. You're getting exactly what you wanted."

His free hand moved to your back, unclapsing your bra with practiced ease. he tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving yours. "On the bed."

You didn't hesitate. You moved to the bed, your legs already weak. You could feel his eyes following your every move. As he hovered over you, you felt a shiver down your spine. Your hands went to the buttons of his white button-up, fumbling slightly in your haste. You needed to feel his skin against yours, to touch the toned muscles you had come to love so much. As you pushed the fabric off his shoulders, your breath hitched. His torso was a work of art—toned, tan, and undeniably sexy. Even after three years, the sight of him like this made your mouth water.

Jay noticed your reaction and smirked, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. “You like what you see, don’t you?” he teased, his voice a low growl.

You bit your lip, unable to tear your gaze away from his chest. “You know I do,” you whispered.

His smirk widened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good, because you’re mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. His hands were already on you, rough and demanding. One hand slipped between your legs, parting your thighs, while the other cupped your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple through the thin fabric of your lingerie. The dual sensations made you arch your back, a moan escaping your lips.

His hand slipped underneath your panties, hissing once he felt how wet you were. His index parted your lips before he slid it into your wetness, thrusting it roughly inside you. Your back arched, and he slid his middle finger almost immediately. The sudden invasion made you cry out, a choked moan leaving your lips, your body already trembling. He set a relentless pace, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmured, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck. "You like being treated like this, babygirl? You like it when I'm rough like that, mmh?"

"Y-Yes, fuck," you moaned, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. "Please, don't stop."

His lips curled into a satisfied smile against your skin. “Good girl. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?”

You could only nod, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. Your breath hitched, and you felt the world around you start to blur.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “I want to see you when you come.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The connection between you was electric, and it pushed you over the edge. With a cry, you came hard, your body convulsing around his fingers. The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you completely.

Jay watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He slowed his movements, drawing out your orgasm until you were left panting and trembling beneath him.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. “And you taste incredible.”

You were still catching your breath, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He quickly undid his pants, tugging them off along with his boxers, his cock freed from their confines as it slapped against his tan stomach, red and ready, precum leaking from the tip. The sight made your mouth watered and you could feel yourself leaking.

“I need to be inside you, doll” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against your wetness. “I can't wait any longer.”

Without another word, he thrust into you, hard and deep. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. Jay set a relentless pace, each thrust rough and demanding. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him with every movement.

“Fuck, you feel so good, that pussy was made for me, sh-shit” he groaned, his voice ragged. “So tight, so perfect. You're mine, do you hear me?”

“Yes, jong, fuck,” you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. “I'm yours. Always yours.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re going to cum for me again. I’m not stopping until you do.”

He shifted his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming, building rapidly. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it with firm, precise strokes. You were still so sensitive from your earlier orgasm, it didn't take a lot of time for that familiar coil in your lower stomach to form.

“I'm-I'm gonna c-cum,” you cried out, your voice desperate.

“Cum for me, babygirl” he demanded, his thrusts growing even rougher.

You obeyed, your body shattering with pleasure. Your scream filled the room as you came hard around him, your muscles clenching tight. But he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, pushing you through your orgasm and into another one quickly. He knew your body too well, and he knew exactly what buttons to push to make you fall apart on his cock.

“That's it, scream for me,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises. “Let everyone know who you belong to.”

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so he could take you from behind. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He spanked you lightly, his hand leaving a stinging imprint on your skin.

“You're my little fucktoy, aren't you?” he taunted, his voice rough and filthy.

“Fuck yeah” you panted, barely able to form words.

He spanked you again, harder this time. “Good girl. Now cum for me again.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but the combination of his rough thrusts and dirty words sent you over the edge once more. You came hard, your body convulsing with the force of it. Jay groaned in pleasure, but he still didn’t stop.

He pulled out and flipped you onto your back again, his eyes wild with lust. “I want to see your face when you cum.”

He entered you again, thrusting hard and fast. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching, gripping, claiming you. The intensity of it all was overwhelming, but you loved every second.

“Jay, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate plea.

“Please what?” he taunted, his thrusts never slowing. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come again,” you cried, tears of pleasure streaming down your face. “Please, Jay, make me come again.”

“That's my good fucking girl,” he murmured, his thumb finding your clit once more. “Come for me one more time.”

You screamed as your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you breathless. Jay watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his movements grew erratic. He was close, and the thought of him finding his release pushed you even higher. With a final, deep thrust, he groaned loudly, his body tensing as he came inside you. The sensation of his cum painting your walls white sent a final wave of pleasure through you, and you moaned softly, your body completely spent.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Both of you were panting, your bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. Jay pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice softening. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, a tired but content smile on your lips. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a bit sore.”

Jay chuckled softly, his eyes filled with love and concern. “Let’s get you cleaned up and comfortable, okay?”

He carefully helped you sit up and led you to the bathroom. He turned on the warm water, filling the bathtub while you leaned against him, feeling the comforting strength of his presence. Once the tub was ready, he gently helped you into the warm water, the heat easing the soreness from your muscles.

Jay kneeled beside the tub, his hands moving to wash you with slow, soothing strokes. “Even like that, you're so beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for his care.

After the bath, he wrapped you in a fluffy towel and carried you back to the bed. He dressed you in one of his soft t-shirts, the fabric warm and comforting against your skin. He made sure you were comfortable, tucking you in with a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a glass of water and some painkillers. “Here, this should help.”

You took the pills, sipping the water as he settled beside you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. The tenderness in his voice and the warmth of his embrace made you feel cherished and loved.

After a while, Jay shifted slightly, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a small black velvet box and looked at you with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

“I was going to give this to you at the restaurant,” he said, his voice a bit shaky. “But since we’re staying home, and you’re all sore, I figured now is the perfect time.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he opened the box, revealing an exquisite ring. The center stone was a stunning diamond, surrounded by smaller, sparkling gems. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and you could see the care and thought that had gone into choosing it.

“Seongie…” you breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

He took the ring from the box and held it up, his eyes meeting yours with a serious, loving gaze. “You mean everything to me. These past three years have been the best of my life, and I want to spend the rest of it with you. Will you marry me?”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears streaming down your face. “Oh my God, Jay, of course I will!”

A wide smile broke across his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he said, pulling you into a deep, loving kiss.

As you snuggled into his arms, admiring the ring on your finger, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. Despite the soreness and the change in plans, this moment was perfect. Jay had taken care of you, showed you his love in every possible way, and now he had promised you forever.

“I know it’s a bit extravagant,” he said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “But I wanted you to have something that reflects how much you mean to me, baby.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you, my love. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you whispered back, feeling a sense of contentment and joy that you knew would last a lifetime.

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luvfy0dor · 7 months ago

Text

Bites or Hickeys? Various x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; suggestive, obv biting, hickeys, perhaps ooc,

Fandoms; Bungo Stray Dogs, Death Note, Attack on Titan, Obey Me

A/n; ogs remember when I was purple, but anyways happy 1 year of writing to me!! I'm super proud of my account and I'm so insanely thankful for all the love I've received and acquaintances/friends I've made. Thank you guys so much <3 even tho there have been times where I really thought I'd quit, I kept going and I'm so grateful I did

Bites ★

The feeling of their teeth sinking into your skin makes them feel almost electric, as if a spark has been lit inside their chest and cause an explosion of carnal desire. Some are softer with it, kissing and licking over the imprints of their teeth to soothe the mild pain it might have caused, but others just bite and move on to the next unoccupied spot. They can't help how desperate they are for you and to prove to themselves that they have you, and their affectionate gestures prove that theyre yours. After all, they'd never do the same for anyone else. Ofcourse after the heat of the moment died down, whether they were gentler or rougher earlier, they'd kiss over the indents and whisper soft praises and murmurs about whatever came to mind. Moments like those were their favorites- second to the actual rendezvous, ofcourse.

• RANPO, Dazai, Akutagwa, Kaji, Twain, Sasha, Zeke, Pieck, MELLO, Belphie, Satan, Leviathan

Hickeys ★

They prefer giving hickeys, sometimes because they think it's classier than biting, and others because they don't want to hurt you by biting too hard. They will, however, make you look just as ravaged, littering your pretty skin with dark, organically shaped marks. Their hands pin your wrists above your head while they suck and lick at your neck, humming as if they were enjoying a meal made by a world-class chef. Their eyes would flicker up to meet yours every now and again, lips curling upwards as they shove one of their knees between yours, allowing you to grind against their thigh while they make quick work of undoing your top and belt. They're far more shameless when they're leaving them along your thighs, so shameless that you almost look like you were bruised- no one was going to see them anyways, so why should they be modest? They'd be lying if they said being able to claim you in such a way didnt turn them on. ♡⁠˖

• fyodor, Sigma, Kunikida, Ango, Mori, Fitzgerald, Fukuzawa, Margaret, Poe, Erwin, Mikasa, Reiner, Historia, Lucifer

Both! ★

They simply can't choose, whether adorning your neck and thighs in dark, dotted half-moons or burgundy splotches, they can't get enough of you. They usually leave them in concealed places, but sometimes it's so difficult to not mark you up all over, especially when you're writhing underneath them and clinging to them like a vice because their lips and mouth just feel that good. You'd intertwines your fingers in their hair, pulling them closer or tugging them away when you're lying breathlessly in the wrinkled and messy sheets. They'd ask you if it's too much, rubbing circles into the sides of your hips with a wide, cheeky grin. God, you looked so good underneath them, all bashful and shy with your eyes half lidded and your lips slightly agape. Your labored breaths and quiet sighs were like music to their ears, so really, how could they choose just one when they could give you both and double the fun? ♡⁠˖

• NIKOLAI, Chuuya, yosano, bram, Oda, Atsushi, Lucy, Mushitaro, Tecchou, Tachihara, Eren, jean, Connie, Armin, Hange, maybeee levi, Ymir, Matt, Matsuda, Misa, im torn between both and neither for L, Mammon, Asmo, Beel

Neither ★

They prefer not to leave a physical mark on you, but rather give you a good time to remember them by. A mark will fade quicker than a memory. ♡⁠˖

• Nathaniel Hawthorne, Light, Jouno

A/n: hey chat I didn't realize today was my anniversary so I kinda speedran the characters, it might not be SUIUUPER in character so I'm sorry 😞

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo

word count: 2,821

December 7, 1989.

A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene.

But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound.

At least, the strongest sorcerer had.

Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty.

And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year.

Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more.

Until it didn’t, again.

Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue.

And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man.

But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him.

And so many did.

And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you?

You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life.

And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him.

You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself).

“C’mon, just tell meeeee,”

And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,”

“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—”

“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug.

“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—”

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book.

“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,”

You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,”

He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?”

“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.

But why wasn’t he?

He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease.

He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle.

It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest?

And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer.

But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled.

He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them —

“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?”

“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs.

“I’m supervising, that’s why,”

“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?”

“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?”

“Salmon,”

“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK.

“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!”

“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,”

“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well.

“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”

“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident.

You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.”

There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility.

And Satoru grins — all this for him?

“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?”

“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?”

“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,”

And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?”

“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,”

And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes.

He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses.

Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?”

And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle.

Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”).

He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough.

And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—”

“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!”

“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider.

As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him.

You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home.

Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck.

“Was that mission earlier your doing?”

“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap.

“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh.

“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,”

And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift.

Positive.

He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered.

“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—”

And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?”

You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—”

And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it.

“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,”

You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—”

“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused.

“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close.

“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part.

“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room.

December 7, 2018.

A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better.

a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.

tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #dividers by @/saradika

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authorhjk1 · 9 months ago

Note

dont you think Haewon deserves to get absolutely destroyed in her childhood room while her parents are downstairs

Marking

(Oh Haewon X Male Reader)

"I don't really get, why you had to come too. It's not like you're my boyfriend."

"I'm not. Lucky me."

You feel Haewon's elbow in your ribs.

"Hey, I'm driving!"

"So what?"

You send her an angry glare, before looking back ahead, focusing on the traffic.

The two of you are on your way to Haewon's parents. They are celebrating their anniversary today. A special one. 25 years. And the both of you are invited. Haewon for obvious reasons and you because you know her father. You only found out after your shenanigans at her place after your breakup. You saw a picture of him on her fridge while you left. And it turns out, he is your boss.

Well, not exactly. He is the head of the marketing team at the company you're working at. You are in a different department. He still has the higher position though. The two of you had to work together occasionally and, despite the age difference, you got along very well. That was, until you started to fuck his daughter's brains out every chance you got.

"We are here."

The two of you get out of the car. While Haewon walks towards the door, you get her stuff and trail after her. She didn't have time to change into her dress yet.

"Mom, dad!"

Haewon greets them and you shake the pair's hands afterwards. Luckily, her father knows that your ex girlfriend Sullyoon is his daughter's best friend. So it's not that weird that the two of you know each other. But it might have been a little suspicious for the two of you to arrive in the same car.

"Please come in. We have prepared lunch already."

"Thank you."

You smile at them, but you can't help but feel guilty. You doubt that they know what you have been doing to their beloved daughter every single day for the past couple of weeks.

"Haewon, go upstairs and get changed. After we are finished eating, we are driving to the party."

"Please, Mr. Oh. Let me drive. The two of you should just relax today."

"Thank you so much, dear."

Haewon's mom accepts your offer with a big smile.

"Too bad that Sullyoon found you, before our daughter did."

"Mom!"

Haewon's cheeks turn red in embarrassment as her mom teases her.

"She is coming too today, why is she not here?"

You glance at Haewon upon hearing her dad's question. Seems like she hasn't told them yet. Maybe to have an excuse for the two of you to keeps seeing each other.

"Well, she... She is very busy with work these days. She told me to pick Haewon up and drive her here. She will catch up with us at the party."

Not your finest moment, but you don't want to call Haewon a liar in front of her parents.

Come upstairs

You stare at the message on your phone. What the hell, Haewon? You know what she wants from you. But this is her parents house. Her father is sitting two meters away from you. How could you...

If you come upstairs now, I'll admit it.

You scoff in disbelief. This has been going on for weeks and now, Haewon wants to admit that she is a whore? A little late in your opinion. But then again, hearing it from her own mouth, while she cums on your cock...

The picture in your head makes you get off the couch.

"Haewon texted me. She needs help with her dress."

You explain yourself without even thinking about your words. It's surprising to see how fast your blood can rush from your brain to your cock, just by thinking of Haewon's desperate moans and whines.

"Sure. Go ahead"

You're glad her father doesn't seem to catch on as you climb the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

You barge into Haewon's childhood room. She stands in the middle. Naked.

"Took you longer than I expected."

You slowly tear your eyes off her naked frame and scan the room. A bed, a desk, a wardrobe. Nothing special. Her walls are decorated with her paintings though. She was definitely not very old, when she made them. They look like ones from six year olds. But still not bad. Your eyes land on the wax crayons, which are lined up by color, lying on her desk. But the nude woman in front of you quickly brings back your attention on her.

Haewon steps forward, her arms wrapping around your neck.

"Fuck me and I confess."

You roll your eyes.

"I'm not falling for that again."

"It's not a joke this time."

Haewon gives you grin.

"Admit it first. Then I fuck you."

This is how your 'relationship' started out anyways. Haewon broke you and Sullyoon up and just wouldn't admit that she did it, because she wanted you. Because she is a slut.

"No. Wrong order."

Haewon gives you another teasing grin.

"Fine."

You give in, knowing that, except for fucking it out of her, there is not much you can do about it anyway.

The two of you quickly engage in a heated kiss, warming each other up. Not that Haewon needs much of that. You can tell by how her core rubs against your thigh.

"If you want me to fuck you good, you better start sucking."

You whisper into her mouth, while slightly pulling away.

"You are not too big of a whore yet to take all of it without lube."

Haewon bites your lip, the pain makes you flinch.

"You just want to see me choke on it again."

Without a word, you grab her shoulders and push her down.

"Not that I'm complaining."

A devilish grin appears on her otherwise innocent face.

Haewon starts out slow by just putting the tip into her mouth. She lets her tongue swirl around it, while both her hands wrap around your cock.

Her blowjob is everything but slow and sensual though, once she gets into it. Like a hungry animal, Haewon starts to engulf your cock. You're reminded of this morning. That's how your day started.

Her hands quickly stroke you, while her head bobs up and down. Her eyes look up at you, almost mocking your inability to keep standing still. You can't help it. You have to hold onto something, or you'll fall. The only thing in sight, as usual, is Haewon's head.

You place one of your hands on top of it. Haewon immediately stops. Her eyes tell you to use her. Her eyes tell you that she is a whore. But her mouth still doesn't. To be fair, it's full with cock right now. But you make a silent promise to yourself. Within the next twenty minutes, Haewon will be calling herself a whore, while she begs for more.

You slowly pull her back onto your cock. Only halfway though. It doesn't make her choke, but you can already hear her breathing through her nose. You loosen your grip, Haewon's lips glide along your length, until they reach your tip. A moment to let her take one last breath.

A second later, Haewon chokes hard. Your cock is blocking her airflow. It's entirety is stuffed down her throat. Her nose is pressed against your abdomen. You hold her in place.

One second

Two seconds

Three seconds

Four seconds

Five seconds

Haewon's eyes give you a silent challenge. Every fiber of her being tells you that she is a whore. Why can't her mouth do the same?

Five seconds turn into ten seconds.

Spit starts to leak out of the corners of her mouth.

Ten seconds turn into fifteen seconds.

Haewon's eyes become wider as she realizes that you don't intend to let go anytime soon.

Fifteen seconds turn into twenty seconds.

Her nostrils flare as Haewon's breathing becomes heavier, faster.

Twenty seconds turn into twenty five seconds.

Her drool now falls off her chin in the form of long strings.

Just as you reach thirty seconds, you let go.

Haewon falls off your cock. Her mouth still hanging open as she backs away. She tries to catch her breath, her naked chest heaving heavily.

"I will wait for your confession, once you're done with surviving."

You give her smug grin.

Haewon doesn't have the energy to reply. The lack of oxygen is still visible.

"Or are you in for round two?"

This time, Haewon shakes her head.

"But you're not gonna confess what a whore you are?"

She shakes her head again.

You groan.

"Fine. But I will not be leaving this room, until your whole body screams whore."

You take a step closer towards her desk.

"And I know just the right way to start."

After grabbing the red wax crayon, you turn back around. Haewon's eyes are slowly wandering towards your hand.

"I hope this washes off easily. For your sake."

Haewon barely has time to open her mouth, before you're already towering over her. Taking a fistful of her short hair, you make her turn her head.

The young woman feels the cold crayon on her cheek. You stain her gorgeous face. Her skin senses your handwriting. The swing of the letter S. A straight line down, one to the right. An L. Another swing U. Two more lines form a T.

You let go of Haewon's hair, letting her head return to its original place. You lean back, taking in your work.

She glares at you. Her cheek is covered with red wax. The word 'slut' seems to glow on her otherwise flawless skin.

"Well, slut..."

The word slowly drips off your tongue with such a degrading undertone.

"Let's fuck that confession out of you."

You lift Haewon off the floor and place her on her windowsill. She shivers as the cold glass makes contact with her back.

"So much space for me to write on."

You whisper as your free hand wanders all over her front.

"You wouldn't dare."

You raise an eyebrow.

"I already did, slut."

You step closer, parting her legs in the process. Your faces only inches away, the tip of your cock now resting on her wet pussy lips.

"And I will cover your entire body."

You immediately start to fulfill that promise. Haewon weakly tries to push your hand away, but you hold her wrists with one hand. You place the tip of the wax crayon right between her tits and her collarbone. You slowly read the words as you write them on her skin.

"Sex toy."

Haewon closes her eyes. She shivers again. You are sure it's not because of the glass.

"Do you want another one?"

She shakes her head and shoots you an evil glare. Her lips are pressed together, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of begging you to stop.

"Suit yourself."

This time, you place the crayon right above her pussy. Her smoothly shaven skin becomes your canvas. You don't read the word out loud, this time.

It takes her moment, since Haewon has to read it upside down.

"Owned"

Just as she understands its meaning, you're already past her lips.

"Ngh! Please!"

A loud whine escapes her mouth as she feels your tip inside of her. Your cock starts to stretch her out as you slowly push forward.

"From now on, whenever you deny being a whore, I'll ruin your body further."

Just as you say that, you are just as deep as Haewon can take it. She starts to take heavy breaths again. Her eyes are glued to the part of your cock that's still not inside her.

"Are you a whore?"

You sigh, knowing full well that she won't agree yet. Haewon shakes her head.

You place the crayon on her left shoulder.

"Bitch"

You focus on fucking her now. Being inside of Haewon doesn't allow you to properly focus on humiliating her. You need to blow off some steam first. And what is better for that than Haewon's snug hole?

You start to screw Haewon into the window behind her. Her back is pressed flat against it. Her legs are spread wide, dangling off the windowsill. One of your hands holds onto her waist while the other is loosely placed on her thigh, still holding the crayon.

Haewon's moans fill the room she has grown up in. All those memories of her childhood are now stained by this experience. They are worthless. All that matters now, is that she is a whore. Slowly, Haewon's own mind comes to that conclusion. So slow, she almost doesn't realize it.

Your pounding makes her slowly lose her mind. Her moans increase in volume. Her whines reach a higher pitch.

"Again, are you a whore?"

This time, you catch her hesitate. But then, Haewon shakes her head again.

Her eyes are barely able to follow the crayon as you slow down your thrusts only a little. Just enough, so you can properly write. Her skin just above her navel is now showing off a marking as well.

"Cocksleeve"

Haewon doesn't have time to read the second half as you pick up the pace again.

"Oh, god!"

Her head leans against the glass behind her. Her back arches, her chest gets pushed towards you. Instead of leaning in and sucking on her tits, you reach forward with your free hand.

"Aaah!"

Haewon let's out a loud cry as you pinch her nipple. And the other one. Another scream.

"S-Stop. It hurts."

She whines, but you both know that that's not her safeword.

"Tell me, if you want me to be gentle. Are you a whore?"

"No!"

She gives you a determined glare. An angry pout.

Once again her crayon finds her skin.

This time, you write on both her tits.

"Free"

"Use"

Haewon looks down, barely manages to read it, and lets out another moan.

"So you do like it rough? Thought so."

You let the wax crayon fall onto the windowsill. Hooking your arms under her legs, you pull her towards you.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her cry can be heard throughout the whole house. You're sure of it. You're buried balls deep inside her cunt. Your thrusts are harder now. You go as fast as possible, not wanting to give her a split second to breath. Her eyes, once locked on yours, are now rolling to the back of her head. Haewon's mouth hangs open in a silent moan.

"Are you a whore?"

This time, Haewon doesn't even respond. Maybe she didn't hear you. Who cares?

You let one leg fall down to reach for the crayon. Another two words are added to the others.

"Sex object"

Between her collarbone and her throat.

Haewon feels you, marking her again. But an overwhelming heat rushes through her body in an alarming pace. It starts out inside her pussy. Right around your cock. It travels through her core. Through her abdomen and her organs. Past her tits. Through her throat. Until it finally reaches her brain. And her mouth.

"Oh holy fuck!"

Haewon cums hard. You start to produce squishing sounds as you keep stuffing Haewon's wet pussy with your cock. Her hands search for your body, trying to push you away. Her legs quiver and shake, before they wrap around you, trapping you in place.

"N-No more."

She weakly sighs, once she has started to calm down.

"I haven't heard the magic word from you yet.

"Haewon, honey! Are you alright? The clock is ticking!"

Misses Oh's voice makes you both look at the door. Luckily, it sounded like it was coming from downstairs.

"In a minute."

Haewon's voice cracks in the middle of her sentence.

"Maybe we should open that door and let them hear you."

"Whore!"

You're surprised at how quickly Haewon blurts out that word.

"I'm a whore! I admit it."

She looks down, very aware that your still inside of her.

"I know. "

You lean forward and kiss her forehead.

"Was it that hard?"

Haewon timidly shakes her head.

Her eyes widen when you raise the crayon again.

"W-Wait what are you doing?"

"Hold still."

"But-"

"I feel like your confession isn't coming from a genuine place, you know? Plus, I need to mark the spot, where I want to cum."

Haewon gulps, but stays silent and doesn't move.

You start on her right cheek. Three words. You keep going, even when you reach her nose. Once you are on the other side of her face, you finish the line. The last letter is placed right next to the first word you wrote on her. The new words cover her whole face. From right to left.

"Cum hungry slut"

You don't tell her what you wrote.

"Knees."

Haewon follows your order and you're back to where you started. It doesn't take long for her to bring you to the edge from there. A nice, quick blowjob. Her hands massaging your cock. Her tongue lapping her own juices off of you.

"Damn, Haewon."

You grunt, which makes her look up at you with those big eyes.

She points your cock at her own face, strokes you two more times and then makes you orgasm. You explode right above her face, covering it with your cum. Her nose, her cheeks, her lips. All of it is ruined by your seed. And the rest of her body is marked with red wax.

"Write it down."

You nod towards her desk.

Haewon understands. She doesn't even get off the ground. She crawls the short distance, reaches up and grabs a piece of paper and the black crayon. You enjoy the view of her ass, before she turns back around. She writes one word.

"WHORE"

When she looks up again, you're already holding your phone in your hand, the camera ready.

Haewon holds up her self made sign.

"A little lower."

You make sure that every single mark you left on her body is clearly visible. Your cum is still staining her face as well.

"What a whore you are."

You chuckle as you snap a couple of pictures.

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

Hi everybody!

Hope you enjoyed this one. This chapter is gonna be the last of of this small series. So there won't be any follow up fics.

Stay healthy!

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #haewon nmixx #nmixx smut #nmixx #haewon #oh haewon

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chlorinecake · 9 months ago

Note

It's sad you haven't written that much for sunoo

𐙚 — 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 | 𝐤.𝐬𝐧

▹ PAIRING: boyfriend ! sunoo x girlfriend ! reader

▹ SUMMARY: While on a picnic date with your boyfriend in honor of your one year anniversary together, things take an unexpected turn as one simple touch leads to another...

▹ WARNINGS: TOUCH DEPRIVED SUNOO who can't help but leave marks all over your neck and thighs, fluff mixed with super messy smut, fingering + oral (f. r), handjob, protected sex (love that for them), tit and spit play, exhibitionism, mentions of food

▹ WORD COUNT: 2.5k

“You brought ice cream to our picnic date in the summer?”

“Yes... and you wrote me a love letter,” Sunoo replied frankly, the gentle park breeze blowing his wavy bangs to the side of his face slightly... “of course I appreciate the gesture, baby, but why go through all that trouble of trying to hide it from me?”

His question made a memory resurface in the back of your mind.

One from earlier this morning when you threw a pillow at his face in an attempt to sneak away with the letter undetected.

Not one of your best moments, you'll admit, but he took it lightly anyways, laughing off the confusion your strange behavior brought about...

“You weren’t supposed to come back home til tomorrow, Sunoo, and I wanted to surprise you…” your voice trailed off just as your boyfriend rested his hand at your thigh, caressing the flesh in a soothing manner…

“I wanted to make it more special,” you went on, feeling your heart flutter slightly at the way he suddenly tilted his head at you, almost as if cooing at your worried confession.

“____… what could be more special than a letter with your sweet kisses all over it?” Sunoo asked, gaze falling to your lips for a second before his eyes flicked back up, displaying his comforting smile.

“Just open it already,” you whined playfully, making your boyfriend giggle a bit at your impatience.

“Wait, I wanna guess what’s inside first!” He paused excitedly, looking to the clouds as he sat in thought…

“Hmm,” Sunoo hummed, feeling through the envelope with his fingers to see if it'd give him any clues… “are these... condoms?!!”

“What!? No! Why would I give you such a thing!?” You laughed out loud, giving the park a brief scan to see if anyone was around to have heard your boyfriend's wild revelation.

“Relax, ____... nobody’s watching the romantic couple on their picnic date,” Sunoo reassured with a light-hearted chuckle, running his hand a little higher on your thigh this time, making your breath hitch slightly.

What was getting into him today?...

“Righttt... so it’s just us and the trees now, huh?” You asked sarcastically, just as a random hiker came walking up the trail a few feet behind you two.

“Yup!” Sunoo answered confidently, letting his touch leave your skin, “just us, the trees... and no protection…”

Tear ˎˊ˗ ...

Sunoo tore open the triangular flap that once sealed the envelope, opening the paper-pocket to reveal a set of tiny squares poking back at him…

“Wow,” his voice started, a feigned shock to his tone, “you must really wanna take me raw after this…”

“Oh my God, you’re being such a slut today,” you whisper-yelled, smacking his shoulder playfully before taking the envelope from his grasp, shaking out the contents into his open palm.

“They’re P o l a r o i d s,” you enunciated slowly, “of us, baby...” you continued with a smile, watching as he brought each photo to his face, one by one to examine them...

“Aww,” Sunoo pouted, feeling his own heart warm up at the burst of memories. “Thank you, love… this is such a sweet anniversary gift,” he said, leaning forward to hug you, his weight accidentally overtaking you to the point where your back fell against the picnic mat with a soft thud.

It wasn't unusual for Sunoo to underestimate his strength, especially whenever he got excited and wanted to show you his affection... still, it's something that he always felt bad about doing...

“____, I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to...” your boyfriend's initially apologetic voice trailed off, all thanks to the mistakably erotic sound that slipped past your lips while caged beneath him.

“S-Sunoo… it's okay,” you stammered nervously, feeling his thigh brush up against your core as he adjusted him position, a small wet spot from your soaked panties now marking his jeans.

You couldn't think of anything to say, especially not with the way your sundress was hiked up now, putting your hips and bottom on full display.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you were met with the wet sight yourself now, Sunoo’s flexed thigh doing nothing but make things worse for the ache growing inside you...

“T-that's not what I think it is... right?”

Your boyfriend's voice came out quietly as a delayed silence followed right after, his eyes staying fixed on you as you raised to sit on your knees now.

You put a hand to his chest, pushing his back against the picnic mat now before leaning on top of him and whispering, “Stop staring and just kiss me already…”

Sunoo almost couldn't believe those words had left your mouth so smoothly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with anticipation as his eyes fell back to your lips.

Your gorgeous, kissable lips...

“And if anyone sees us?” He asked with a slight rasp to his voice, eyes sparkling beneath the sunlight as you traced the side of his face with a finger...

“Then they can cry about it…”

That's all it took before you two started kissing, both of your eyes fluttering shut as gentle sounds of pleasure were exchanged by the tips of your tongues.

You felt one of his hands find the side of your face and drift down to your neck, his touch gripping just enough at your throat for the pressure to be noticeable, but not overwhelming.

“Been wanting to do this since we got here,” Sunoo groaned, a little weak yet heavy at the end as you broke away from the kiss, meeting his eyes with your own lovestruck ones as you noticed his touch wandered lower, pulling your sundress over the curve of your hips again, tugging at your panties.

“Wanna get these off of you so bad, baby,” your boyfriend said breathlessly, your legs wasted no time in moving just enough for him to slip your panties down and toss them.

“Much better,” you hummed, letting your lips find his again in an even more hungry kiss than before as you felt his fingers ghost over your folds, circling your clit in a way that had you twitching almost instantly.

Something about the way he kissed you in this moment was so raw and greedy, a bit of spit dribbling down the side of both your mouths, only for you two to take turns licking it back up with your tongues.

And he was gathering so much of your slick on his fingers, too, making your clit throb with need as he kept toying with it, your hips subconsciously rocking against his fingers as you grew closer and closer.

“You're making such a mess of me, Sunoo,” you said in between kissing him, his mouth traveling to your neck where he sucked even harder against your flesh, groaning against your skin.

“Can't help it when you taste so sweet, love,” is all he managed to say before rolling you over on your back and taking dominance again, your body being sprawled out face-up on the picnic mat as he started to pepper kisses down from your jaw, to your tits, before finally reaching your swollen cunt.

You couldn't help but close your thighs around his head, even though it was only a matter of time before he forced them open again, taking a break to finger your pussy while marking the expanse of your thighs, holding intense eye contact with you the entire time.

“Could play with your pussy all day, baby,” he mumbled against you, moving from your thigh to lick a stripe up the middle of your core, “might have to beg me to stop...”

“F-fuck,” you cried out, arching your back at the way your core trembled thanks to his skilled fingers curling inside you, “I'm so close, baby...”

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, looking you straight in the eye again while still fucking you with his digits, “gonna cream on my fingers, baby?... clench that pretty pussy as you cum for me?”

A string of desperate yes's spilled from your lips only to get caught in your throat, your teary eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt yourself release from the inside out, shaking from the wave of pleasure that washed over you.

“That's it baby... let it all out,” Sunoo cooed, fingers not ceasing in fucking your hole until you reached your hand down to stop his wrist from moving.

Sunoo just stared at you for a second... and even though he knew you hated when he did that, he couldn't help it. You just looked so beautiful to him right now. Cheeks a flushed hue from your orgasm, covered in his marks from your chest to your thighs...

Using his free hand, Sunoo reach for the picnic basket, digging under a few things before pulling out a shiny gold package.

A condom.

“Babe, you... you planned this?” You asked with a glint of amusement to your voice, body still moving in slow-motion as you recovered from your first orgasm.

“Hey, don't judge me,” he smiled softly, tossing the condom in the middle of you two as he got started with unbuckling his pants, “you can put it on me, if you like...”

Timidly, you crawled towards your boyfriend on all fours, thankful to God that you didn't flinch once his dick sprung out from the confines of his boxers, nearly hitting you in the face given how hard it was.

Still, there was something about the subtle look of shock on your face that made Sunoo feel good about himself, reaching out a hand to caress your head as you tried opening the package with your nails.

“Just use your teeth, love,” Sunoo suggested, just as you took the plastic in your mouth, tearing it away with ease.

Pulling out the ring of rubber, you aligned it over his tip first, sliding it down in a stroking motion.

It doesn't take long before you have the whole condom slid down his shaft, but your ministrations don't stop there.

You kept pumping him in long, drawn out movements, experimenting with pressures and slightly escalating the speed with each stroke.

And it didn’t take long before he started moaning all loud and shamelessly, biting his lip with slightly screwed brows as you continued to jerk his cock in your hand, caressing his thigh with your free hand to help him relax.

“Sh-shit,” Sunoo cursed beneath his breath, eyes glued to the way you fisting his length, your hickey-stained cleavage coming into view as your sundress fell further down your shoulders with gravity.

The whole sight was just so intoxicating to him, especially coupled with the sensation of your fingers wrapped around him.

It was only a matter of time before you had him coming undone, filling the condom with his load as you started to stroke him more slowly now, somehow craving his dick even more.

He was a panting mess, pretty chest heaving beneath his shirt as you sat up on your knees now, crawling over to straddle his lap.

His lust-ridden eyes watched you the entire time, too, pants still lazily hanging around his thighs as you untied the bow keeping the top of your sundress together, revealing almost your full chest to him.

He didn’t hesitate to start groping your chest, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands as you humped against his lap, sliding your slick folds over his wrapped dick and shivering from the returned stimulation.

You moaned at his actions, clinging onto your boyfriend’s shirt at the sudden feeling of his tip prodding at your entrance.

“God, I need to be inside you so bad, ____... need to feel you taking me nice and slow...” Sunoo practically mewled against your lips, the desperation of words making your pussy clench around nothing.

You let your hips grind against his length even faster now, despite how you both were extremely sensitive at this point.

You didn’t expect one fleeting kiss to get you here… a slimy, moaning mess in your boyfriend's lap all in the middle of nature… but you were too far gone to turn back now, and besides… something about the risk of being caught like this was a turn on for you, anyways…

Reaching down for his dick, you let the head find your hole again before slowly feeling him slide past your ridged walls, shaky sighs coming from both your lips now…

You two stayed like that for a few moments, too, simply basking in each other’s closeness until you got ready to move, Sunoo’s delicate hands resting at your hips, eventually guiding your speed.

“S-Sunoo,” you started weakly, thighs trembling at the way his tip grazed your sweet spot as he rocked you back and forth against him, “we’re not gonna last very long in a state like this…”

Your sultry words sounded like fuzz in his brain for a second, his body being too pleasure drunk to focus on anything other than the way your perfect pussy was taking him.

You kept your hands secure at his shoulders, grinding against him the best your tired legs could manage as his lips connected to the skin below your ear, speaking the feathery words: “Might as well make it worth it, then…”

That's when your boyfriend let his back fall against the picnic mat, releasing his grip from your hips, only to find your hands instead, connecting you both by your latticed fingers.

His pelvis snapped up to help you both reach your highs faster, your chest heaving with emotions as you gasped at the feeling of his cock plunging inside you so well, a mere matter of seconds passing before your orgasms hit you both like a crashing wave.

Sweet mmm's and ahh's of pleasure left both your squirming bodies, Sunoo's thighs twitching beneath you as your walls clenched down on his length, your climax taking it's sweet time to leave you.

You felt his cum slowly fill up the condom from inside you, gentle pants escaping his swollen lips as your hands stayed intertwined, eyes slightly teary beneath the shining sun.

“I can't believe we just did that in public,” you sighed, lifting your hips from his to free yourself from the stimulation, helping yourself to removing the now filled rubber from your boyfriend's dick and tossing it in a picnic napkin.

Sunoo smiled at your choice of words before sitting back up to readjust his pants, still feeling a bit wobbly in his movements after everything that just happened.

“And I'm more than open to doing this again,” he said, crawling towards you on the mat to help re-tie the bow at the top of your dress, “… and again, and again, and again...”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you chuckled with a smile, watching his hands finish up each bow before he creating a small distance between you, placing the picnic basket in the center of the mat and flipping open it's lid, his hair slightly disheveled as he asked, “In the mood for some ice cream soup?”

AUTHOR’S NOTE 𐙚 | To the anon at the very top of this post, I hope you enjoyed what I came up for with for everyone’s favorite sunny boy !! That is, if you ever happen to cross paths with my blog again >< !!

TAGLIST 𐙚 | @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr + link to my enhypen bookshelf if you’re interested !!

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pathologicalreid · 11 months ago

Text

angst masterlist

main masterlist

note: italicized titles denote requests; asterisks (*) mark all retired!reader fics; plus signs (+) mark hurt/comfort.

buried alive (2), (3): in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

the archer: in which a trip to your hometown leads an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay

brilliance: in which reader goes into labor after a fight and spencer is nowhere to be found

a father's daughter: in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

*stuck between a rock and a hard place: you, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.

*the space between us: the adjustment between never being home and always being home starts to take a toll on you

*this is the job: you and Spencer (almost) get into a fight about the demands of your job.

sense memory: after eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.

no sign of danger: when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased

next of kin (2):disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

perennial: unrequited love brings spencer to his death bed, unless you can rescue him

work song: no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her

can you come get me? when you manage to escape your captor, and your first call is to spencer

epiphany: a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany

+resilient: in which your boyfriend lends you and hand when your own are working against you

+dazed days: your job at the FBI is hard, but life with spencer is easy

+your needs, my needs: washing spencer's hair after his attempts to save a life go awry

+don't lose your head: a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

+the ninth step: spencer starts to make amends after mexico - and he's starting with you

+don't look in the mirror: in which spencer helps you when you're using sex as a poor coping mechanism

leave a message after the beep: when you go missing on a business trip in texas, the bau travels to investigate, but the situation might be more than they anticipated.

for the fear of falling apart: following her gunpoint confession, your sister pressure you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

+and now i have to act like i can't read your mind: your sobriety is broken by an old 'friend', and spencer's there to help you navigate a new reality

extraordinary measures: in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby

blowing smoke: in which Spencer asks you out on a date, but you know better than to say yes

too heavy to hold: in which you and Spencer grieve the loss of the most important person in your life, your son

all the debts i owe: in which Spencer takes your kids into account when deciding whether or not he should take a plea deal, and it doesn't go the way you expect

merry christmas, please don't call: in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number

losing you: in which you being in danger in the field elicits a response from Spencer that you're not used to - anger

the angel of the bottomless pit: in which you cope with Spencer's mortality after he's shot in the neck

the anniversary effect: in which the anniversary of reader's assault nears and Spencer would move heaven and earth to make sure she's okay

come home with me: in which you are chosen as the member of the BAU who gets to retrieve Spencer from prison

that gold mine changed you: in which Spencer won't open up to you following his release from prison and you've reached your breaking point

a long way to go: in which your family breaks no contact and Spencer reminds you that you're doing the right thing

the lost daughter: in which JJ goes missing in the middle of the night, and Spencer's attempts to comfort you completely fall through

central nervous system: in which you are drugged on what should've been a routine case

black hole: in which the BAU has to race against the clock to find you after you've been buried alive, again

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #margot's masterlists

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hawnks · 28 days ago

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You thought you knew everything about Caleb, but it turns out you've missed out on the most essential information about him — his ring size.

You'd picked one of the larger ones, investigating it with rapt attention, and hoping your calculation was correct. Your anniversary dinner is this evening, so there's no second chances. You were certain about your gift when you went to bed yesterday, but now the reality of the situation is sinking in. The thought of embarrassing yourself with a ring that doesn't fit on your anniversary seems unbearable. Plus, he'd never let you live it down.

So you decide to test it.

Gingerly, you wriggle out of his hold, grabbing the velvet box from its hiding spot and creeping back into bed. Caleb has never been a particularly light sleeper, but his metal arm has almost no touch sensitivity. If you're careful, he won't even notice.

He's on his side, arm draped over the space you just vacated. You have to lay prone to reach his fingers without lifting his wrist, but you make it work.

Giddy, you find that the ring fits perfectly.

Too perfectly.

You can't get it off.

Trying to keep calm, you twist it, changing the direction of your pulling. You lick your fingers, hoping the lubrication would help, but instead it just makes the ring impossible to hold onto altogether.

There's no way he's not awake at this point, but your ego won't let you leave it alone. In a final fit of desperation, you wrap your whole fist around his knuckle, ready to dislocate his finger to save your own dwindling dignity.

Caleb catches you before you can do him permanent harm, twining your fingers.

You can hear the smirk in his voice. "Aren't you supposed to ask, first?"

"Oh my god," you groan. You roll over as far as his hold will let you, throwing your other arm over your eyes. "I'm not proposing. It's not an engagement ring."

"Could have fooled me."

A moment of fraught silence as you wait for him to make a joke, tease you for your antics.

When it doesn't come, you risk cracking an eye to peek at him.

He's staring at it. The expression on his face is odd, contemplative. He pulls his hand out of yours, and with a quick tug, the ring slides right off.

Squawking, you grab for it, struggling as he pins you against his chest with one arm, holding the ring aloft with his free hand. He twists it this way and that, letting it catch the burgeoning sunlight.

It's a simple silver band, not gaudy or extravagant. It would fit nicely under his gloves, not rub too much against his other fingers. The thing that makes it unique is the engraving hidden on the inner wall.

You can feel when he discovers it, like the air itself goes static.

You'd gone back and forth on the idea for weeks before finally putting in the order, feeling so vulnerable for your desires.

But if there's anyone you wanted to be vulnerable with in this world, it's Caleb.

He rubs the private little letters, squeezing you tighter.

Mine.

The fact that he wore your tag appealed to a secret possessive instinct in you. But you'd both grown up -- your claim on him had grown up. You wanted something more mature to mark him as yours. Something he wouldn't have to take off as often.

"You can't take it back," he tells you. "I'm keeping it. It's a gift from my precious wife, after all."

You bury your face against his chest, smothering a smile. "We're not even fiancés, Caleb."

He hauls you up higher so he can kiss your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids, your lips. "Not yet," he says, grinning.

#Caleb posting #he already found it btw. you don't have 'hiding spots'#he knows everything about you. including the secrets you're trying to keep from him #caleb x reader

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jelly-an0n · 2 months ago

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Firsts

Clark Kent x Reader

Requested by @witherby

Tonight was supposed to be perfect.

At least- Clark had planned for it all to maybe be perfect-

Today was meant to mark your six month anniversary, and tonight he was hoping to make it special. He had planned an entire dinner, using the spare key to go into your apartment- with permission to come over of course- to set it all up.

Clark had made dinner- using a recipe you had mentioned loving but hadn't had time to cook- set the table and everything. But now he was starting to doubt himself, second guessing himself every second the watched go by on the clock you had.

You were meant to be home an hour ago, and you hadn't sent any form of message to say you were running behind or staying at work, nothing. Clark checked his phone again, seeing the messages he had sent over the pass hour still marked as unread.

Worry was creeping up quickly within him, but he done his best to keep a clear head. You ran late sometimes, it happens. he still remembers your first date when you had come running in fifteen minutes late- drenched to the bone and spewing apologies, nearly in tears at being so late.

Turns out work held you back, then it had started to rain- not a good sign when but you had your car. At least, you did until you popped a tire and didn't have a spare.

That night, everything that could go wrong on the way to where you were meant to meet up with Clark, did go wrong.

But Clark had only smiled at you and offered you a jacket, telling you it could be postponed so you could go home and get changed, he didn't want you getting sick after all.

That date went from a night out to a night in- getting food to go before returning to yours, where you both curled up watching crappy reality TV.

So Clark knew that, sometimes, life gets in the way.

Before he could further worry about your well-being, he heard the tell-tale signs of you approaching your door, and he stumbles to stand behind his chair- only to blink as the front door swung open.

In your arms were two cats who blinked back at Clark, and it took him a few moments to zone back in to hear you explain why you were so late as the door swings shut.

"-ally so sorry Clark- I was planning on coming straight here after work but my phone died and Jess needed those extra reports- and on the way home I saw these sweethearts begging for scraps and had to yell at some sleaze for trying to kick the ginger one and-" Your rant comes to a halt as you finally take in the dinning room table- set with candles, wine, and the meal you had been wanting for weeks now.

Any words you had were stolen from you as you look back up to Clark, only to see him staring at you with the same awed expression, just for a completely different reason.

For Clark, he was just awed at how kind and genuine you were, at how much love you had for the world and how much he loves you.

And as soon as the words he had spent weeks questioning if he should say enter his mind, the reason he spent so long on this dinner, he can't help but let them gracefully slip from his mouth, said with the same type of care one would have for handling fine china.

"I love you."

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x reader #superman x you #superman x y/n #dc x reader #dc x y/n

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the-pixelated-pirate · 10 months ago

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Request for Anon!

Hellooo lovely people! Sorry to keep you waiting, literally all year, but I'm back! I had a lot of fun with these because I've been in such a big Maji' mood <3 hope y'all enjoy!

Romantic Majima HCs ♡

WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW under the cut, gender neutral reader w AFAB anatomy, Y1+ Maji' in mind but some hcs can still work for Y0 :3

REQUEST STATUS: Open!

REQUESTS LEFT: 3!

SFW

• Loves claw games, will win everything in the machine for you if you ask. On second thought, Majima would do ANYTHING for you if you asked

• Doesn't matter how long you've been together, Majima will always be flirting with you. He'll always finding something about you to compliment and makes extra sure that you know you're loved by him <3

• Plans the most sporadic dates. Always jumping the question when you least expect it. He found this neat looking sushi place a couple blocks from your place, what about dinner at 8? Tonight? Of course, tonight! He saw some kids eating some ice cream just now and it sounded perfect! You're not busy, right? Let's go!

• If you've got a job with the public, you know he's skipping out on his duties to come visit you. You work in retail, he's holding up the line to flirt and swoon over you. Your boss hates him

• He can't let anyone know that he's the biggest sap over his s/o. You've got him wrapped around your finger, Majima isn't sure if he enjoys it or not.

• Favorite moments are early in the morning, when you both first wake up. It's so domestic. Loves getting to cook breakfast with you, holding you close from behind and smooching you up <3 his kisses taste like coffee

• Plays into the "Mad Dog" nickname a lot, calling himself your "guard dog" and being positively feral and the slightest bit protective over you.

• Loves to bite. Anywhere. He'll leave marks, and end up maybe getting punished because he left a big ass hickey where clothes don't cover it

• Loves loves LOVES to cuddle. His favorite place to rest his head is your chest. Or your thighs, he ain't picky. He could cuddle you all day if you'd let him, especially after a bad day at work. Your fingers in his hair is an absolute dream

• Sings in the shower

• Has a notebook of important dates that he always keeps on him, so he doesn't forget them! Some dates include your birthday, and your anniversary of course!

• Turns into a big baby when allergies kick in. Now he's got you around, he begs you to take care of him. Let him bundle up in your bed, feed him some warm soup, massage his jaw when it starts to ache, won't you? You just love him so much, right~?

NSFW

• Okayyyyy.... Maybe it's a little indulgent... But he'd be so down to try pet play. Probably prefers calling you his little kitty/puppy, but it feels pretty damn good the other way around, too

• As much as it hurts to say. Look at him. I don't remember seeing a spec of hair on him, minus the facial hair. That mf waxes. Brazilian. And if I am misremembering... It just feels in character, ok

• Loves to see you dress up. Loves to see anyone in a suit or dress, if it's a special occasion he will find some place to drag you to so he can show you one hell of a time. Oh, the risk of getting caught? Just adds to the thrill, doesn't it?

• Switchhhh. Through and through. Can be a big bully, or he can be a big ole masochist. Loves pleasing, loves being pleased. Majima in the bedroom is very 50/50, everyone is happy

• Fav place to cum is. Anywhere on you. Ass, stomach, face. Will he clean it up... Probably. If you tell him to.

• LISTEN.... He's down for some freaky stuff... If you tell him to lick it up, he just might. He's always been pretty unpredictable, hasn't he?

• Loves rough sex. Nothing better. However he does have his softer spells. Will go easy on you if you ask. But you better beg, he loves listening to that sweet, sweet voice of yours

• All of my faves have voice kinks. Because I said so. Solidarity k 🤝

• Like mentioned he can get pretty cuddly afterwards, but he can still take care of you if you're wiped out. Just get ready for some hugs and a whole lot of smooching

• Okay. Crossdressing. Are you surprised. Making him wear dresses, making you wear something you normally don't.. just something about it

• ALSO. ROLE 👏 PLAY 👏 HE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND FUCK YOU HARD AS THE HANNYA MAN. AS A POLICE OFFICER. GOROMI... WHOEVER. OK

#yakuza #yakuza x reader #majima goro #goro majima #majima x reader #majima goro x reader #yakuza headcanons

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ambitiouspotions · 20 days ago

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BABY DAZE | MICHAEL BERZATTO | ONESHOT

summary — regretting the shotgun wedding, caring for a five-month-old baby, and wondering why your husband likes painkillers more than you

word count — 4.4k

warnings — addiction, angst, talk of recovery and na meetings, arguing, slightly religious connotations, drug/alcohol usage, stress from motherhood, mom guilt, mature language

author's note — i told myself not to write mikey again so soon, but look at me…also i channel some of my family (sicilian american) when i write these

“fak, come on man, you can't put together a damn crib? you gotta get me out of this hole i’m in,” mikey looked at the stray pieces of wood on the floor, screws in a pile, and neil fak’s unorganized toolbox. the instruction booklet was opened and slightly crumpled from the number of times fak had referenced the pages.

fak’s face was slightly distorted as he looked at the pieces and then back to the instructions. “man, look, i don't know what you want me to do this shit is all kinds of fucked.” the handyman simply could not understand why baby furniture had so many pieces and so many varying sizes. if it was so safe, why was the company recommending it all to be put together with a single allen wrench? there was no way he was only using that stupid allen wrench, not for baby berzatto anyway.

mikey was running his hands over his face and to his bangs that were falling, gripping the ends of his hair tightly. he had promised you the nursery furniture would be completed by the time you arrived home after work. he already had the majority of the room completed without you knowing, moving and organizing the junk he had piled into the spare bedroom as if it were a storage unit. the baby shower had only caused the room to be more cluttered, and on top of the clients, you were trying to fit in for their appointments before going on maternity leave, which meant you never had enough time in the day to organize it yourself. the stress of disorganization and ill preparation led to you biting your nails and peeling the skin away from your fingertips routinely. mikey noticed this and now had the perfect excuse to get the nursery finished and elevate your mood at the same time.

“what’d you do this time anyway?” fak questioned as he propped one board of the crib against the wall and rummaged through his varying sizes of drill bits.

mikey didn't want to admit to fak that he was unwilling to defend you in front of his mother, donna, at a family lunch when she had mumbled something along the lines of ‘your child is still a bastard.’ it was unneeded, unkind, and simply unprovoked after you had put on your nicest attitude to agree to have lunch with her and mikey in the first place.

you both already made the mistake. there was no coming back from that fuck up, so why keep dwelling on it? that was the understanding by the rest of the family anyway, but donna wouldn't ever drop it.

“fak, you fucker, i’d love to know,” mikey held the opposite end as fak skimmed the directions again to install the railing. he didn't need to be told he was in the wrong again, best to just skip that shitty conversation altogether.

“they say the first seven months of marriage are always the hardest,” fak tried to console mikey as he began using the drill. mikey was doubtful the moment fak tried to say anything about marriage, especially coming from a single man. mikey, himself, wouldn't have any pleasant advice to give anyone either because his marriage, more like hasty elopement, was only six months old with a wife who was eight months pregnant. any idiot could do the math on why this marriage was legitimized.

“seven years, the first seven years,” mikey corrected him with a groan of annoyance. “i appreciate you doing this though; my back’s been killin’ me.”

another factor of stress added to the plate, almost two years ago, would mark the anniversary of mikey slipping in the flooding bathroom of the beef so violently that he now had permanent hardware in his spine. along with the surgery came the pain and the way to manage pain—opioids. that was a sick joke. one second, he’s slipping on the tile and slamming into the porcelain commode, and the next, he was relying on drugs to get him through a stressful day.

he didn't know if his back still hurt or if he was accustomed to saying it to convince himself that it was enough of a reason to get high. that was the sad part, mikey was popping pills and you barely had any time to notice because you were always asleep before he took a little something to take the edge off. he didn't need you to have another thing to worry about, so sneakily would replace the pills he took and leave the prescription bottle in the same place. you had no reason to question him because the allergy medication you received from the walk-in clinic almost a year ago sat on that same shelf, and you never bothered to clean it out. he was covering his tracks well; why would you ever notice anyway? especially if he was so good at hiding it?

“it's no big deal, happy wife, happy life,” fak rhymed, adjusting his leveling tool against the boards before drilling them together.

the moment the tattooed handyman was able to support the crib by himself, mikey began working on the other projects to make the room more cozy.

fak made himself scarce once it was close to your arrival time. he was going to let mikey take all of your good graces on the updated nursery.

“look at that panica,” mikey greeted, affectionately rubbing your oversized belly the moment you walked through the door. his fingers slipped under your bag and dragged it off your shoulder, setting it on the counter beside him.

you eyed him skeptically wondering where his gentleness was stemming from. he had given you dull responses, impersonal kisses, and compliments, just enough to keep you quiet before you shut the door to leave. his pre-sleep painkiller always caused a morning annoyance when he awoke, but you always chalked his bad attitude up to stress rather than thinking he was abusing any type of drug. it was mikey; he had a lot on the line, stress was his middle name, annoyance ran through his veins. he was a berzatto; of course, he had to have some form of mental illness genetically passed down to him.

“what? i can't love on my two babies?” he asked, pulling you closer to place a kiss on your temple.

“what did you do?” you asked, holding each side of his face, trying to find an inkling of his true intentions. it was teasing in a way, but knew he must've had a plan up his sleeve.

“i'm so glad you asked; close those pretty eyes for me,” he chuckled. the singular lift of the corner of his mouth was always enough to make you melt.

mikey led you blindly to the spare bedroom that had been transformed into a nursery, too bad your crumby landlord wouldn't allow the wall color to be changed or mikey would've had that swatch of fern canopy behr from the local home depot on all four walls.

“alright,” he said, clasping his hands together. when you opened your eyes, you couldn't withhold the emotions that had been pent up for so long. you were staring at the crib like it was a winning lottery ticket. the sheets were made, the embroidered baby blanket natalie and pete had gifted you was draped over the edge, the bear stuffed animals were in the corner of the crib as if they were having their own meeting, and the mattress was at the perfect height for a newborn.

the changing table was assembled, and even with one of the drawers being slightly crooked, it was perfect. it was everything you wanted for your baby. it was safe, cozy, organized, and most importantly, it was something you wanted.

mikey had gone beyond your expectations. he had promised the furniture would be put together, but he gave you more than that. he gave you hope. he gave you a reason to relax. he gave you solace in knowing that although you had an unplanned pregnancy, wedding ceremony at the courthouse, and chaotic reception at the beef you could lean on him for support.

“hey, don't cry,” mikey began rubbing your lower back as you reached over the crib to caress one of the teddy bears.

“i’m sorry…this is just really beautiful,” you sniffled, taking the bear into your arms and hugging it tightly.

“would it make you feel better if i said i got you those apple pie egg rolls?” he smirked when you turned around. your gaze had softened more, more tears falling down your eyes with the most genuine type of comfort.

“you got me egg rolls?” you couldn't help but question him in the sweetest disbelief. the tone in your voice was cracking as you leaned into his chest. mikey berzatto was out of the hole he placed himself in just a few days prior.

you were in survival mode and so was mikey. it was nearing the end of your eighth week out of ten from maternity leave at the salon and mikey had barely any time off from his responsibilities at the restaurant. he was trying to split his time as much as possible, but unfortunately, an understaffed restaurant meant he had to be gone more than he liked.

everyone said once the baby arrived, your life would never slow down, and they were right. gabriel michael berzatto was a healthy, gentle, and happy baby, the one people didn't mind stopping to look at in the stroller as you walked past. he was a miniature mikey if anything with his dark hair, crooked smile, and wide nose.

“is your back hurting that bad?” the question hit his ear like a ton of bricks. “i don't think you can drink on those,” you added, picking up the paper plates from dinner.

“what?” mikey asked, pushing his beer on the coffee table that had already suffered enough of mikey's abuse from not using a coaster.

“your back,” you repeated, looking at him from the kitchen. “i didn't even know you took those things still. i thought they were expired,” that's when mikey realized what he had done. he left the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. a mistake he never thought he would make had been done. by the time you went to sleep, he was in a comfortable state of high, and you were none the wiser. then halfway through prep at the beef, he’d take another little pill, and if he was having a particularly shitty day, then again when he went for a smoke break. he seemed to have a lot of shitty days at the beef because everything was falling apart and everything always seems to go wrong. and who knows maybe the days weren’t that bad, but sometimes it just seemed like too long to wait until you were about to go to bed.

“yeah, hurtin’ pretty bad,” he lied, sitting uncomfortably in his recliner now. “opened this thing without thinkin’,” he was looking at the amber-colored glass of the freshly opened beer.

“didn’t even know you needed them anymore,” you confessed, folding the throw blanket that had been discarded on the floor when you rose from the sofa after nursing gabriel to sleep.

“sometimes, you know that permanent hardware gets pretty damn stiff when the weather changes,” he explained, wiping his hands on his boxers.

“maybe you need to go back to the orthopedist,” you suggested casually, though you were skeptical of his body language. he was tense and unrelaxed, more than he was before you voiced your concern about his well-being.

“you’re right, just need’a find the time,” he agreed, scratching his grown-out beard that seemed to become more unkempt as the days quickly turned into weeks. it was one of the many tasks that got slid to the back burner because the priorities were set on becoming accustomed to demanding needs from the newest member of the family.

“got that big bottle of arthritis tylenol from the costco if you want to take that instead,” you offered, feeling uneasy about the fact that mikey was taking painkillers, painkillers you knew were two years old, though in actuality they were bought from a regular customer at the beginning of the week when mikey went to the restaurant to “check on the gas line.”

“yeah, thanks, baby,” he nodded, clearing his throat. he could tell you weren't convinced, but at the same time, neither of you had the energy to overthink or argue.

gabriel started to cry from the other room, mikey was the first one to move. he was quick with his attentiveness to his knowing he had an easy way to escape the conversation.

“i got this one,” he mumbled, rubbing his face as he slipped past you to enter the nursery. that was the end of that for a while, though it plagued your mind frequently. you started counting the pills in the bottle and it never seemed to lessen. it hadn't become misplaced again after asking him about it. you couldn't prove that he was using unless you were going solely based on your gut instinct.

you were as guilty as mikey. mikey was blatantly lying to you and you were enabling him because you were choosing not to confront him about it. you didn't want to admit to yourself that your husband was abusing painkillers because if you did that meant that your life would already be more stressful than it already was.

it was all making sense now. irritably, mood swings, aversion, questionable decisions, not because he had gotten you knocked up, not because he had to marry you, not because the bills were stacking up, not because he said his family was bothering him, but because he was popping pills.

it was hard some days because you were still figuring out the new aspects of parenting, but a natural and oddly comforting instinct took over you. although you and mikey were able to take care of gabriel and still manage your busy schedules you had an overwhelming amount of dread and guilt hanging over your head. were you doing anything right?

you hadn't known how much weight you were pulling until tonight. five months of night feedings, pumping, juggling schedules, daycare pickups, pediatrician checkups, washing bottles, pump parts, and an excessive amount of laundry which was clean, but piled skillfully on the living room sofa, but you did it because you convinced yourself that mikey was simply too busy to take on all the tasks you were tackling. you believed you had to be the sole provider for gabriel because mikey was the business owner. he was the one that had his valuable time placed on his restaurant, so you refused to mention that you might have needed help.

it was making you have doubts about your marriage. the marriage you consented to because you thought it would make both of your lives more stable and make you more reassured that mikey was going to stick around for you and the baby. the marriage that seemed to put your parents at ease knowing they could pray for the sins of lust and greed that caused an unplanned child. the marriage that at first seemed right, but now felt like a one-sided partnership because you were being stubborn and mikey was being ignorant.

everything seemed to be going wrong tonight (gabriel was fussy the moment you tried to put him down, you wasted eight ounces of fresh breast milk because you didn't seal the bag all the way when putting it in the freezer, and you were on your third shirt change of the night) and mikey was sitting in his recliner drinking a beer. the condensation was beading off the glass bottle and dripping onto his worn spiraled notebook where he kept his business dealings for the beef contained. you were struggling and he was drinking a damn beer.

“mikey,” you finally made him look up, smudges of ink from his pen were on the underside of his hand. “take the baby please,” you said, handing off the teary-eyed baby to your husband who couldn't seem less interested. you were covered in spit-up, from your shirt to your hair because gabriel accidentally grabbed a good chunk of it when he moved his dirty hand. mikey didn't seem present though he was sitting in front of you, loosely cradling his son.

“are you high?” you didn't know why you sounded surprised when you asked that question. you had been avoiding ever talking about that night three months prior. you practically snatched gabriel out of his arms which only made mikey defensive in trying to take him back. “oh my fucking god,” you muttered taking a step back from him.

“come on, i got ‘em,” mikey flicked the condensation that was still present on his hand from the beer, he rose from his resting place on the recliner. he was trying to avoid your line of questioning.

“no, what the hell is wrong with you?” you were placing entirely too much blame on mikey because you were overwhelmed and overworked, well, had been overwhelmed and overworked for months. your anxiety and frustration were spilling over the overfilled glass it had been stuffed into.

“hey, hey,” he warned, noticing your voice had raised sharply when he went to reach for gabriel. “chill out, mammina.” wrong choice of words.

“chill out? you want me to chill out? you're the one sitting on your ass getting high when i've been running around all evening with my head cut off.” you were trying to keep your tone light after your increase in volume had spooked gabriel.

“i didn't mean it like that, dammit, hand me gabe,” he sighed, though when he went to reach for the baby again you shielded gabriel from being taken out of your arms.

“you're bein' ridiculous,” mikey scoffed, following behind you. his inebriated state was affecting his ability to understand why he wouldn’t or maybe shouldn’t be holding his infant.

“and you're high,” you retorted, walking to the bathroom. “can’t even change my shirt because—” you unskillfully managed to open the cap and dump the oxycontin onto the counter. gabriel in your arms none the wiser to the situation. you counted them four times before even looking at him. you had to be sure that you weren’t going mad because the same amount was in the pill bottle as you had counted many times before.

“mammina—”

“where are you getting them?” you interjected, tossing the empty bottle at his chest.

“mammina, give me the baby and go change your shirt,” he insisted, as if you were so easily going to give up the little boy in your arms.

“michael, i am not fucking stupid and you know that. so where the fuck are you getting them?”

“why's it matter where i'm gettin’ ‘em from?”

he had a point; you didn't quite know why it mattered. you knew he'd find a way to continue taking them like he was already doing.

there was a long moment of silence, yet it was saying more than words could. pain, hurt, frustration, uncertainty, and fear were seasoning the bottom of the cast iron pot, and a thick helping of despair was poured over the top. the back of the metal spoon that was used to stir the clusterfuck let everything mingle, and then it had to bake in the oven at 425° until that shit was burnt and stinking up the entire apartment. oh, and then you had to eat that garbage. it was inedible, but you had to choke it down because that was what was happening. you helped enable that mess, and now you, as well as mikey, had to take responsibility for it.

“how long…how fuckin�� long have you been takin’ them?” your nose was buried in the crook of gabriel's neck. your voice was barely above a whisper.

“i dunno,” he wet his upper lip with his tongue, dragging his hand over his face. he couldn't admit that to you right now. that would break you. it would break you knowing you were oblivious for years. he could tell it was already eating you alive that you didn’t confront him properly just a few months ago. you had a general time frame when you thought he started abusing painkillers, but mikey was the only man that knew when his issue truly began.

“you gotta know…” you pleaded softly. your tears were finally falling. you didn't know how they were contained before. gabriel's tiny hand was pulling at the top of your shirt to whine for his nightly feeding. you looked so vulnerable leaning against the bathroom counter, pulling down one side of your shirt and unclasping your nursing bra, allowing your son to nurse. that was life now, having someone that meant more to you than anything else because even if your husband was abusing opioids you had a son that was helpless without you. the world could be ending, but your responsibility would never be focused on anything else except your child. what were you supposed to do in this situation? keep gabriel safe before things get too out of control. that was the answer.

you didn't resent mikey or hate him. he was helpless much like gabriel. though he had unintentionally gotten himself addicted to opioids because of the exploding toilet from the beef, it wasn't his fault. he was caught in a vicious cycle that needed professional help; help you couldn't provide for him.

you couldn't do it on your own either, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. you couldn't leave him because he was the person that you could lean on when you needed him. he was the man that forced marcus to learn how to make apple pie egg rolls so he wouldn't have to keep buying them from the bakery across from the beef. he was the man that sat behind you as you labored because he knew you felt better when he had his chin on your shoulder; he talked you through the entire thing and you couldn't be upset about it because every word he said comforted you and encouraged you. you could let him lean on you when he needed you most as long as it met that gabriel was safe.

“listen to me,” your voice cracked. “i don't know what to do, but i'm going to figure it out.” you managed to loosen one of your arms from gabriel. you wiped under your eyes. a painful and staggered exhale left your lungs. “ i won't be able to do this forever if you don't try to get sober, and it's not because of me, it's because of gabriel. he doesn't deserve this.”

“i know,” mikey said, reaching his hand out to caress his son's wispy black hair. you knew he wasn't going to take him. mikey needed comfort and gabriel was an easy little one to be comforted by. he was small and innocent. he loved his parents unconditionally because he didn't know the horrors of the world. he was being cradled in the bathroom unaware of anything that had occurred. he was blissfully ignorant. he was protected because he wasn't mature enough to understand the complex emotion that was surging through the apartment.

“i know you're going to have bad days. i know that you're going to relapse, and i know that this can't be fixed in a week, but damn, you have to try or i'm going to leave with gabriel.”

mikey leaned his forehead on yours. a quiet and consoling agreement that he would try his best. he couldn't ruin this with you. he made enough stupid mistakes with you in high school. he was supposed to be apologizing for those times now when he truly cared for you. he didn't reconnect with you later in life to keep being stupid, okay—maybe forgetting the condom a couple of months before your marriage was stupid, but the point was he wants to make things right.

the rest of the night was painful. you stayed up watching mikey sleep off his latest dose on the recliner and studying gabriel's small figure on the baby monitor. tonight seemed like the night that needed some silence even if it wasn't followed with peace.

mikey had taken your consideration of being sober seriously. he knew you were never one to back down from your word, and that ultimatum made him scared. scared enough to try and get his bearings in order, leave the beef to richie before he was past the point of no return. he was going to attend the narcotics anonymous meetings you had found online because they could allow him to find more resources to aid him. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, hell, he was living through the hardest part, wanting more—another dose—before he even got in the car with you to attend the meeting.

he didn't want to be the dad that wasn't around. he gets sober or you leave with gabriel that was the deal. he couldn't stop this alone but that was the most difficult part—admitting he needed help. he couldn't keep fighting with himself, ignoring his fatherly duties, and he couldn't keep hurting you. he knew he wasn't acting like himself and he saw it most when you gave him that sad smile where your eyes wouldn't crinkle at the edges and your cheeks would barely rise. he knew he had to make a change.

“we'll be waiting for you because we love you,” you whispered in his ear. mikey had his nose buried in the side of your cheek, withholding the tears he so badly wanted to release. mikey was holding the railing to the steps of the church so tightly. his other hand was resting on gabriel's back. he was scared to let go. he knew he had to confront what had been haunting him. it wasn't just a back injury anymore it transpired well past that. it was beyond physical pain. it was an addiction. a festering, evil addiction that constantly gnawed at his entire body.

“i love you too,” he cleared his throat harshly, knowing if he said anything else he would break down. he wanted to do better. he wanted to be better. he needed to do better for the sake of keeping everything he loved.

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