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megthemewlingquim · 1 month

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love's perfect ache

Summary: Your husband wants nothing more than to love you breathless.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Warnings: smut! Matt is a soft dom (that alone deserves a warning); fingering, multiple orgasms (one somewhat forced but it is not non-con); dirty talk

A/N: Holy shit. So. A lot of things have happened since I last posted. Some of these things include but are not limited to

a) I have been seeing someone romantically for a year and four months

b) I'm graduating with my Bachelor's Degree in Education in May.

c) I've been Student Teaching full time in order to graduate, so I haven't been able to write.

However, these last three days have given me a spark of madness. I first started this draft a little less than a year ago, and only now have I finished it.

This fic is based off of... personal experience. ;) I hope you like it.

The clatter of plates and silverware jumps through the apartment. The smell of shrimp scampi still lingers in the air, though the windows have been opened and the leftovers have been put in the fridge.

Matt leans his arm over the back of the couch as he sits down, relaxing into his seat. A small part of him wants to go back to you, the remarkable woman behind him who had insisted on doing the dishes and taking care of the leftovers yourself. “Go sit and be handsome,” you’d said, kissing his shoulder. “I can manage it.”

Oh, you.

You never like asking for help, or accepting it when it is given. Not that you think you’re above it, but because you don’t want to trouble anyone else with anything.

He doesn’t love that, but he loves you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, toying with the ring on his finger.

“Yeah?” you ask from behind the counter.

“Mm, nothing,” he mutters. “Was just thinking ‘bout you.”

The hum of amusement you give him is a common little sound. One of quiet acknowledgement. It’s almost like you’re numb to what he’s telling you.

Selfless, as always.

The sound reminds him of more intimate times between you two. Sighs, moans, squeaks, breathless laughs and barely audible whines. All from you. And then, he thinks of what you say to him sometimes, when he offers to do certain things.

“It’s alright, baby, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t need to finish. It’s okay. I’m too tired.”

“Honey, I’m good. I promise. You don’t have to do anything.”

Matt snaps back to the current moment. His heart hurts.

In the two years that you’ve been married, you’ve had a bit of trouble; not only with accepting help or kind words or generous gifts of affection, but with accepting pleasure too, pleasure that Matt so willingly wants to give to you. He knows about that, how you find it difficult to fathom the love he has for you and the ways he wants to express it.

Yes, you’ve discussed your kinks and your turn-offs with him. You’ve been intimate, and you’ve enjoyed it immensely. But you’ve never quite gotten to where he wants you, to where you should be.

You deserve pleasure, and you don’t see it.

Matt’s jaw clenches.

“Honey?” he asks. “You good?”

“Yup!” you chirp. “Just putting the last pan away."

“Ok.”

Thirty seconds pass. He hears you, in that time, put the last pan into the lazy-susan cabinet and wipe down the counter one last time. Then, you step away from the kitchen and sit next to him on the couch with a sleepy little mumble.

“Everything okay?” Matt asks softly, leaning in to nuzzle into your neck. He leaves a feather-light kiss there.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Everything’s… good.”

“I have an idea,” he mumbles into your skin, his hand trailing up your thigh. “And I need to know what you think about it.”

“What are you thinking?” you ask, a hint of a smile in your voice.

“Well, I was thinking… that we could… have some fun.” Matt grins.

You breathe outward, silently, your breath heavy and shuddered, as his lips trail to the back of your neck and he bites into the flesh.

“I’d like that,” you say.

“I wasn’t finished. We have some fun… but I spend the night just… letting you feel everything. I want to make you come, sweetheart. A lot, if I’m honest.”

He can hear the sharp inhale — quiet but noticeable — and how your heartbeat picks up almost instantly. His grin widens. “I want to spoil you tonight. All I want you to do is lay on the bed and be your beautiful self. I’ll do the rest.”

“I — um — ” you stammer, “you don’t have to do that — ”

“Uh uh.” Matt shakes his head. “None of that now. I want to do this. You don’t see how much you deserve this, honey. What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“ ‘m not afraid… just…”

“Just?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re too damn humble for your own good, you know?”

You shrug.

“Baby, look at me,” Matt says softly. When he knows you have done so, he says, “If you really don’t want to, we don’t have to. But I’ve noticed it. I just wanna give my girl what she deserves. Will you let me do that? Even just for tonight?”

It takes a good ten seconds for you to give him the slightest sound of approval. A tiny little “uh huh,” close to a whisper, but he can hear it.

“That’s my girl,” he says, grinning.

Matt carries you to bed bridal-style, shutting the door behind him with the back of his foot, and sits you on the edge of the bed.

He starts by just kissing you; your lips, your cheeks. Softly, gently, with both hands coming up to your jawline and your neck, thumbs swiping your cheeks and temples.

His affection is always, always welcomed. You have never felt safer than when you are in his arms — those same arms that are often covered in bruises and scratches and blood, those same arms that drop snitches from buildings and punch the daylights out of bad guys. You have never felt safer.

His hands fall down to your chest, your waist, lightly applying pressure or squeezing gently. You're in the warm embrace of someone who could break you, and the fact that he chooses to treat you with such delicate care makes your heart swell and your chest ache with such love — and this turns you on even more.

Matt treasures you. Cherishes you.

He sighs into the kisses he gives. “You have no idea how much you turn me on,” he says, his voice low. “You know that?” He moves his head up and kisses your forehead; his lips linger there for a while. “And you don’t even realize it… you don’t realize that I get off by making you feel good.”

What Matt has just said to you doesn’t register fully until he’s already laid you down onto the bed, gently pushing you down with his right hand. He straddles you, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. “You beautiful, wonderful, lovely girl.” He leans down, kissing your clothed chest and your stomach before shuffling your pants off of you.

He gets in between your legs, sitting on the bed sideways but still facing you. You’re wearing black boyshorts, the comfiest pair you own. Matt’s favorite. He likes imagining how the black would look on you, and how the cloth would hug your hips.

His hand gently strokes the crotch of your underwear, the pressure sending sparks up your privates. It’s so much different, you think, to have someone else’s hand there rather than your own.

“You smell so good,” he mutters, in that tone of voice, and you know that he’s not talking about the vanilla eau de parfum you put on every day. No, he’s talking about a different scent you give off.

You flush, embarrassed, crossing your legs and putting your face in your hands. His hand stays where it was, unmoving, between your legs.

A finger moves, right over your clit, and you twitch.

“None of that,” Matt whispers. “No hiding today. I want to see your pretty face.”

“You can’t see,” you whimper through your hands.

“When has that ever stopped me?” he says, and you know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. “Come on,” he coaxes, “take your hands off your face.”

You don’t move. “Matty…”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, sweetie.” A finger moves on your clit again and you gasp. “You’re so beautiful. Every part of you. Even the parts you’re insecure about…”

When you say nothing, he moves his finger again and you twitch at the shock it gives you. “I’m not gonna do anything else until you take your hands off your face,” he says, and you know he’s serious.

Matt’s finger moves for the third time and that’s when you remove your hands. His little chuckle sends shivers down your back.

“There,” he says, “there’s my pretty girl. See? Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

His hand, quick as a bullet, goes into your underwear and cups your pussy, adding pressure again. A strangled sound comes out of you and you cover your mouth. Matt chuckles again, and coos at you, "Aww, what? What's making you so shy? You know I love hearing you."

The teasing is too much now, but you can't seem to get over your shyness. You whimper into your hand, moving your hips to try and get some more friction. It works, but only for a second. Matt immediately notices what you're doing and he draws his hand away again.

"What do you need, baby?"

"Ffffingers."

Matt nods and shuffles you out of your underwear.

Slowly, he puts a finger in you, keeping his eyes lowered and concentrating on your feel, your sounds. The relieved sigh is all he needs, and he stays where he is, knuckle deep inside you. He doesn't move it yet, and instead, he chooses to feel you clench around his finger to no avail.

"So warm," he says, "so warm and wet."

You flush, embarrassed at that. For no reason at all, you've been self-conscious about that part of you, and how it looks, smells, tastes. You turn your head and try to keep yourself away from the praise he's giving you.

Matt tsks. "None of that now. It's beautiful, honey. You're so beautiful."

"M-Matt," you whimper, "no."

"Yes," he says, and starts to move his finger. In and out, slow and steady. The burn and stretch is a welcome one, but you start to feel something else. Almost like a wall, a barrier to your pleasure. You can't come without that wall being torn down.

"Can — can you get the vibrator, please?"

"It's been a while since you've asked for what you want." Matt grins. "That's a good girl, hm? Of course, I can."

He moves, pulling his finger out of you and getting off the bed. He opens the nightstand drawer next to the bed and pulls out a magenta colored vibrator.

Matt gets back on the bed and puts his finger in you again. The wall comes back once he starts moving his finger again, but this time he puts the vibrator in your clit and presses a button. It buzzes to life, only on the lowest setting, but it's enough.

The wall comes down and all you feel is pleasure. You sigh, relieved. The vibrator is a nice distraction from the stretch.

"There you go," Matt says quietly. "Just feel that, honey. I've got you."

I've got you.

The reassurance that Matt gives you is both comforting and sexy. You like being submissive, and you like being taken care of. More than anything, you like being taken care of by the man who made his vows, before God and the world, to be your husband for the rest of your lives.

You melt into the bed as he continues to make love to you. Subspace is setting in and your mind goes fuzzy. You wouldn't normally describe yourself as a pillow princess, but here, right now... you are. And that's what Matt wants.

He smiles, shushes you gently, and this hurls you down into subspace even more. "Such a good girl," he whispers, "always so good to me. Just let me take care of you."

And with that, you're gone. Completely vulnerable, giving yourself over to Matt. And he finds it so lovely. so beautiful, how much you trust him.

"I think what you need is a little more... maybe right here — "

His fingers do something else, they go lower and deeper. Immediately, you feel like you're being punched in the stomach, but the sensation itself is far from painful. You can't stop yourself this time; you moan, a choked sound, and you bury your head to the side and into your pillows. Dear God, if Matt keeps this up, you're not gonna last much longer.

"There," he says, his voice low but filled with warmth, keeping his fingers moving right there, in and out, "that's what you need, hm? I know, honey, I know."

Matt knows you. He knows you, inside and out, body and soul. He knows your laugh, your smile, your voice, your smells. He knows how you moan, how you shiver, twitch and gasp. He knows what makes you tick. He knows how you come, what you need to get there. There's nothing more comforting — or sexy — than that.

You're unbelievably tense - your entire body is stiff, coming close to that edge. Matt can feel it, simply on his fingers, but he can hear it, too: the way your breath hitches and the way your moans increase, both in frequency and in pitch. He can feel your blood flowing, he can hear your heartbeat increase, feel how warm your skin has become. He notices all of these things, and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing in the world. A small part of him is still regretful that he cannot see, but only because... oh, what he wouldn't give to see your face.

"Matty," you whimper, "M-Matty, I'm cc-close. I'm so close—"

He loves hearing that desperation in your voice. You're starting to move around, turning and panting, almost in an attempt to get away from the pleasure that's sure to overtake you in a few moments. He can sense how tight your eyes are closed, how dry your mouth has become from all the sounds - oh, the beautiful sounds - that you're making, how tightly your fists are clenched, and where your arms are going. You don't seem to know exactly what to do with your hands. A few times, it looks like you debate whether to hide your face again, but you don't do that.

"M-Matty!"

And he knows, then, that you're peaking, that the orgasm has already begun and you're just on the edge of letting go, letting it completely overtake you. You've given yourself completely to him, and you're at his mercy.

And the Devil of Hell's Kitchen does have mercy, believe it or not.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he whispers, with such gentle fondness and delight that you have no choice but to obey.

You're gone, your body in flames and filled with electric sparks. Fireworks.

The sound that comes from you then is the most beautiful sound Matt has ever heard. He's heard it before, and he will never get tired of it. It's a sound of release, of letting go... a cry of pleasure, almost a guttural scream and a shuddered breath all at once. It's an orgasmic wail or sometimes it is even a period of silence where you are just completely lost in the agonizing ecstasy of it all.

You're coming, and you're coming hard... He always knows what to do or say to make that happen. When he married you, he made a vow to himself to always make you feel like the most satisfied woman in the world. It's always a reward when this happens, when he can hear and feel you like this.

It's a long one, he realizes, because you gasp and shiver and twitch and spasm and cry out in surprise as the waves of pleasure keep rushing over you. He laughs, then, a small amused chuckle that leaves you even more breathless than you already are. Matt delights in making you feel this way. If he could go down on his knees and beg God Almighty to let him do this forever, he would.

"Oh, that's it," he coos, "that's my girl."

His praise, combined with the continued moving of his fingers - shouldn't they be getting sore by now? - only makes your orgasm last longer. Once it begins to fade, your body relaxes and you breathe out a sigh of contentment and warmth. Your eyes remain closed - and it's probably a good thing, because the way Matt is looking at you now would be enough to kill you with how loving it is The aftershocks of your orgasm - little jolts of pleasure - start to course through you.

"That was beautiful," he mutters to himself. "I think I want another from you."

You eyes snap open. "Honey," you mumble.

"What?" he asks gently. "I know you can." His hands are moving now, all across your body in an attempt to soothe you. You look down and see the tent in his pants: he's never been so hard in the years that you've known him.

"You need help with that?" you ask with a smile, sitting up. By the direction that your voice is going, he knows what you're talking about.

"No, no, no," he says, using a hand to push you back onto the bed. "Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't."

"Yes," Matt kisses your chest, "you were."

"I can't come again."

"Yes, you can." Matt clicks the vibrator on again and, before you can move away, puts it on your clit.

Your whole body seizes up, your clit goes numb, and all you can feel is good, but too good. Your mind blanks. You shriek out a sound of surprise and pleasure and agony, your body instantly trying to get away. It's too much, you're too sensitive, but he won't let up. He holds you down, shushing you again as you let out little cries and sobs and moans. Your body convulses, twitching in his grasp.

"Shh, shh, baby... I got you. Remember that. You're alright."

"MattMattMatt — I can't!"

"Yes, you can," he says again, firmer this time, but laughs as you try to get away. "Just hang on a little longer, you'll feel good again. Your body is already adapting to it. You're okay."

And of course, it's true. Your body is already getting used to it. Your sobs die down and now, the pleasure is bearable. Extremely good, actually. Your moans are weak, your eyebrows are furrowed, and your eyes are shut again. The convulsions are stopping, and now all you can do is feel it all again.

"That's it, bubba," Matt says, "see? I know you can handle it."

He puts two fingers inside you, slowly, and the burn is less uncomfortable now. A guttural sound leaves you again as you're filled up, and once Matt starts moving again, you tense up immediately. Two fingers and a vibrator are a recipe for an extremely quick orgasm, and you both know it.

"Baby," you whisper.

"What?" he coos. "Is my girl close already?"

"Nnngh," is all you can reply back. "Mm hmm."

"That's what I wanted," Matt says quietly, triumphantly. "You don't have to say anything anymore. Just feel it."

It doesn't take much longer for you to get close to coming again. Especially when Matt begins to drive his fingers into you harder, faster. You can't even speak anymore; all you can do is vocalize; moan, whimper, gasp. And you know that Matt is having the time of his life. One of the first things he ever said to you about things like this was that he'd get off by getting you off, and that has always stuck with you.

Your legs start to quiver.

You peak again, sobbing out a high pitched whine. The feeling is strong now, like an unstoppable force is meeting an immovable object. Your body is tense, unbelievably so, and the pleasure keeps building, but it never crests. It never reaches that point. That's the trouble of having one orgasm after another. It's hard to come. "MMMatt, pplease, please, p —"

"Shh," Matt says again with a grunt, "don't worry. We'll get you there. Relax as much as you can. Remember, I'll take care of you." You try your best to relax your body but it's still a bit difficult. All the while, Matt is practically shoving his fingers into you now, relentlessly, and you start to hear noises down there that send your mind reeling. Your back arches.

"You fuckin' hear that?" Matt's sudden vulgarity is a surprise. He's ravenous. "Oh, you want it, don't you?" He hoists a leg over your own to keep you from moving. "You're so close. Stay here, don't run away from me."

He pauses, but his fingers keep moving. "I'll get some restraints later."

After a few more seconds, it finally hits. You crest, your orgasm starting again, and all you can shriek is a simple, "Oh, oh Jesus — "

"Just come," Matt says quietly. It contrasts heavily with the way he's ramming his fingers into you. "Don't do anything else. Just come. Let go. Let go, let go, let go — "

And, with the encouragement comforting you, what else can you do but do as he says? You're stuck in place and your mind is mush. You come with another wail, this one stronger and more primal than the first, louder too, and you see stars behind your eyelids. Your leg is shaking, and if your other one could move, it would, too. Your clit is warm, almost numb again, and your arms are quivering above his head. The sounds from your privates get more intense, and Matt grunts in exertion. You don't know anything anymore, you can't think or speak. All you can do is feel, and that's exactly what Matt wanted from the start.

You're sure Matt's senses are overloaded. Sound, smell, taste, feel. He can hear how desperate and overtaken you are, he can smell and taste your arousal and sweat in the air, and he can feel your quivers and shakes and your tightness. He's rock hard now, and it probably hurts a little, but he doesn't care. You're all that's on his mind and once again he wishes that he could only see your face in this moment.

"Oh, look at you," Matt praises, slowing his fingers now. You're a mess, a beautiful, satiated mess. There are tears in your eyes and sweat on your brow. Your hair is tangled and unkept, and your knuckles hurt from how hard you've been clenching your fists. It's amazing how this is only from a fingering, but you needed this. You wanted this, as shy as you were to admit it. You pant, weakly, your legs completely unable to move. You're jelly, practically limp, and you twitch and shudder as the last of the aftershocks hit you.

"Can I put it in now?"

You shriek and Matt laughs, falling beside you and immediately wrapping his arms around you. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, baby." He kisses your forehead and cradles your head to him. "Such a good girl," he says, "you did such a good job. I'm so proud of you."

You swallow, and the saliva is a welcome sensation on your dry throat. "I think... I'll call off of work tomorrow," you pant. "Holy hell, Matty."

"Careful," Matt says, "if you do that, I won't be able to stop myself from doing this all over again once you wake up."

"I'm in danger," you say with a breathless laugh. "Just be gentle, okay?"

"Of course," he says, "always. I'm so happy that you allowed me to do that. It's been a while since you've given in that much. You don't know how hot it is to me when you let go like that."

You look down and see the tent in Matt's pants again. "Do you want me to take care of that now?"

"When you're half asleep already? I'm good, honey. That will go away eventually. But it'll be there in the morning, waiting for you. And I may or may not slip out in a few hours and get some restraints from the sex shop later. You may or may not wake up with your arms and legs tied to the bed. Just be warned."

It isn't long before you slip into sleep, completely exhausted but satiated and happy. And while you sleep, you can still feel Matt's lips on your forehead, and you think you can hear a small, "I love you, sweetheart," too.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader smut #daredevil #netflix daredevil #husband! matt murdock #wife!reader #smut #daredevil smut

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stylesispunk · 3 months

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"The not so invisible string" | part 3

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count:8k>

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭

masterlist

dividers by @/saradika

When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.

But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.

You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.

The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.

It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.

"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."

You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”

Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."

Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.

"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”

Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.

“So is this a trap?” you asked.

“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.

Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.

"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.

You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"

Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.

As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.

Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.

"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"

Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”

You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”

“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.

Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."

"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."

As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.

As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.

And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.

As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

He still knew you so well.

“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.

As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.

You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."

Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.

"Joel,” you whispered.

Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”

A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”

Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.

Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.

“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.

“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”

You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.

"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”

Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."

You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”

You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"

You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.

"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.

There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"

Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.

As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.

“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.

As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.

You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.

"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.

Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.

“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”

Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.

Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"

You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."

As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.

Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"

You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."

He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.

With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.

It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.

How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.

As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."

You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”

The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.

With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.

Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.

“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”

“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.

“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”

Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.

Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."

“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.

Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."

You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.

“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”

Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.

“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.

Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.

Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."

Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.

“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."

Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.

"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."

“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.

In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.

“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.

Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.

"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."

Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."

Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.

"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.

You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.

"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."

Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."

“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.

You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”

“You own me respect,” he stated.

“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.

With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.

+++

The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.

After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.

"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.

"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.

"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely

Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."

You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.

“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.

You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."

Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”

Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."

With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."

As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.

+++++

“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.

A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.

"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."

“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.

You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”

Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”

You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."

Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."

“See you later, then?”

“See you later, Doe”

+++++

Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.

As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.

After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."

He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"

Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."

The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.

"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."

"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"

The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.

"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."

Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.

“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.

You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.

Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.

When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.

But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.

"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.

You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”

“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“

"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.

“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.

This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?

“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.

Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.

However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.

"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.

You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.

I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.

Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"

You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?

"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.

“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”

“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.

And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.

“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.

“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.

You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."

Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."

"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.

As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.

The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.

You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.

“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.

"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”

“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.

You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.

His heart broke in two, just like yours.

"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.

“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.

You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.

"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.

You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.

Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.

Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."

“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.

Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."

Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."

He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."

For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.

"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.

He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."

Doe

You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.

"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.

However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.

It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.

As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.

He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.

When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?

You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."

He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."

Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.

It never left.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.

You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”

"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."

As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”

“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.

You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.

"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."

Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”

"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”

A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.

Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.

But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.

Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.

"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.

Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.

“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.

“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.

“How?”

"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”

Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.

"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."

“But what?”

“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.

It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.

“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”

Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”

Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"

You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.

As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.

Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.

And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.

You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.

Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.

When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.

Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.

Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.

Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”

Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."

Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"

Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.

How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.

So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.

So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.

You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.

However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.

So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.

She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.

A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.

As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality

You felt humiliated. There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.

all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx

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portgasdwrld · 8 months

Text

📞Wait a minute while I make you mine part.4(final)

Featuring: Ace x F!reader

Warning: NSFW content, MINORS DNI !!!

Note: I’m back I’m sorry 👩🏻‍💻idk if I hate writing smut because it takes me so much time, or because I wish IRL men were like this.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

4.Giving up

Ace looked at you as he expected some sort of words to exit his mouth. Every of his heartbeat felt closer to death to him as his mind rushed with thoughts he has been having of you. He was put on the spot and Ace couldn't find a way to portray his emotions to you in words or actions, tell you exactly why his heart always felt warmer near you. Faced to your question, his basic ability to speech were gone.

-What do you mean?

It was the best thing he could let out. His heart was beating fast as he watched your features change to a defeated smile that covered your lips. His hand reached the back of his head where he let it slide back to his jawline, to finally let it fall back to his side.

-I don't know Ace? Do I really need to be more direct than this. I just don't know how to feel about you anymore..

You replied with a dry chuckle, your eyes flickered to his figure. His heart winced at your words. Were you mad because of the stunt Enya pulled? It wasn't your type to get jealous over someone or even show you care. You never did with him or with anyone so what could've possible happened to make you switch your behavior.

-I'm not sure I truly grasp the situation, y/n.

-Ugh, you can be so dense.

You exhaled as you stand up and face him. You sighed in frustration as you walked towards him with your heels in one hand. You pulled your short dress down and pushed your hair out of your face. Eyelashes a little wet from the slight crying, you looked up to him and quickly bit your lips.

-Listen, dumb fire boy. I like you and a part of me hate to admit it, but here it is, you do what you want with this information.

You admit through your lashes. Ace watched you closely with lips parted, surprised by your sudden confession. Your gaze shifted from his eyes to the red lipstick's mark left on his neck. You trailed it with the edge of your fingers, before brushing it with your thumb, smudging it away from his skin.

-..And honestly I hate seeing other persons leave marks on your body if it's not me

Ace surprised expression quickly changed into the familiar cocky grin you were so familiar to. He closed the distance between you two and tilted his face down. His breath brushed your nose as you felt his fingers softly grip your waist.

-So, you like me, huh?

You roll your eyes as a smile curved your lips. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a quick second and back to his brown eyes as you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck.

-Yeah... I like you … very much.

You let in a shaky whisper as your own nervousness was now difficult to hide. He slightly giggled and his eyes stared at you for a moment, enjoying the proximity of your body after imagining it for so long. You were so pretty to his eyes.

-I like you too

-Then, just kiss me already

And without missing any time, Ace pressed his lips against yours. The earning you two had for each other for such a long time was clearly being shown through the kiss, it was bit rough but still sensual. Ace's hands travelled down to your hips and butt as he brought you closer to him. Your fingers interlocking with his darks locks as you barely pulled them, it left him grunting in your mouth. You wanted more, he wanted more.

-fuck.. I can't get enough of you

He panted between the wet kisses interchanged between y'all lips. You let one hand slide to his nude chest as the other cupped the side-end of his jawline. You didn't even want to hide that your need for him was almost unbearable at the moment.

-Ace.. I need you.

As if he was only waiting for you to say those words, he quickly pulled you towards one of the long chairs where he sat and brought you down to his laps. You hovered over him and his hands directly went on your ass where he grabbed it earning a gasp from your lips. But, he didn't even let you react properly as he dived back into kissing you more hungrily than ever by grabbing the back of your head with one of his hands.

-Ace you're not going to fuck me here, aren't you?

You ask pushing him away with your two hands pressed on his chest. He laid back and looked at you with a challenging smirk.

-Whos going to see anyway, its so dark out here

-Ace...

He slapped your ass making you gasp once again. You stared at him defeated by his totally nonchalant and shameless behavior.

-Since, when did I ever care about that. I'm a pirate baby.

He concluded the "conversation" by pulling your wrist towards him so your body fell on his, once again. He cupped your cheeks with one hand as the other pushed away the few strands of hair on your face.

-Is it fine with you sweetheart?

You took a big breath. At this point you didn't even care because you felt so wet and you desperately needed release no matter what. You looked down at his eyes and smirked as you pecked his lips.

-Yeah, it's more fun this way

He smirked right back and adjusted his position, but thrusted into you in the process. His growing hard bulge brushing against your wet core, made you moan , a moan that you quickly tried to conceal with your hand.

-Don't do that

He whispered into your ears, nibbling on your neck. sucking your skin while you started to grind against him.

-I don't want people to hea-

You quickly got cut off with a moan escaping your lips as he intentionally pushed his hips up again. You quickly glared at him as you watched a cocky smirk grow on his face. You rolled your eyes and lightly pulled some of his hair intertwined between your fingers. He chuckled and gave your collarbone a last kiss before he looked up at you with the same shitty confident grin.

-Be vocal, I like it

He said smiling while playing with your ass and jiggling it in his hands. You looked at him almost speechless at his incredibly laidback attitude. You would never believe that he has touched himself multiple of times imagining you on top of him, fucking you or you sucking him off, that he was eager to feel you around him.

-Alright, as much I want us to take our time, let's hurry. Need some prep, angel?

-What happened to your "I don't care who see us" bs?

You asked with a cocked eyebrow as you felt him slide his digits under your panties. He pushed your panties to the side as he let his fingers get coated by your wetness. You gripped his shoulders as you pushed your body forward, inviting him to push them inside.

-I take this as a no?

-Acee, stop being a tease.

You whined as you let your head rest on the crook on his neck. You felt his torso vibrating against your arms as he giggled at your whines. He pushed two of his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in the perfect needed pace.

-Fuck..

You sighed as you felt your pleasure slowly building up. He quickened the pace, making his fingers roughly hit your sweet spot as your juices ran down his hand.

-So good to me, you want my cock sweetheart

-Yes, please

-What do you want baby? Use your words

-I want your cock Ace, please

He pulled out his fingers bringing them over to his mouth where he quickly sucked away the juice and opened his belt.

-Wait, let me do that

He put his hands back on your hips as he watched you do your thing. You sat a little over his knees and unzipped his shorts. You took his already hard dick in your hands, smearing the pre-cum on the tip. You leaned over him, kissing his lips as you stroke his length. His hands cupped your face as he deepened the kiss by pushing his tongue in your mouth. Drool all over y'all faces and his dick twitching in your hand, you got closer to him angling his tip closer to your hole. You slowly sank down, earning both of you to moan in each others mouth. Ace finally let go to catch his breath, his head resting on the back of the chair.

-You feel so good, fuck

He let you some time to get used to his dick inside of you before he started to move slowly his hips. You sighed as the fullness he provided you, was enough to make you easily build up the pleasure you had earlier with his fingers. You closed your eyes as you once again rest your head on his chest.

-You're okay baby?

He asked making sure as he softly caressed your head. You nodded and with that he adjusted his position to have a better angle to thrust in you. He was slow at first, but he gradually caught up the pace. You started to move your hips along with his to add more friction. The sound of your bodies loving each other quickly filled the empty quiet space. You unintentionally bit his chest to muffle a loud moan when his dick hit a perfect spot.

-Hey...what did I say earlier..

You couldn't even talk back as you were simply too focused with the feeling of his dick hitting you so good inside, the way his thumb rubbed against your clit and how his other hand was gripping your ass.

-Can't ..even talk h-huh?

He teases in a shaky voice before letting a groan out. He loved feeling your breast rubbing against his chest and your ass clapping against his shorts as it moved up and down. With the rush of adrenaline of possibly being caught and fucking outside, he felt like he was almost over the edge already.

-Ace...I'm so close, faster please

He moved faster, controlling now your hips pace too. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a last stroke accompanied with his thumb pressed slightly against your clit, made you release all over his dick. You screamed his name, your body shaking in his hold as he thrusted harder and faster to reach his own high, cumming inside of you. You two were panting hard as Ace fingers were brushing up and down your back.

-My legs feel numb...

You pant as you looked up to him. He opened his eyes to stare at your eyes, before you two chuckled.

-It's fine, ima take care of you after we get back to the ship. i just need to catch my breath.

A comfortable silence set as you let your head fall on his chest, hearing his quick heartbeat.

-You came inside huh

-Yeah, sorry about that-

-It's fine, im on the pill dirty ass.

-Dirty ass??

-Yeah??It will be dripping down my legs when we walk back to the ship, gross.

-Oh..., didn't think about that. Ima carry you, don't worry.

-Thanks

Ace smiled to himself enjoying your presence and the moment. His hand was still caressing your back.

-Soooo ...we are going out now?

-That's a stupid question

-Okay mister-super-dense

He laughed as he remembered the early scene where he was totally confused to your indirect confession. He kissed your forehead, loving how your eyes glittered when they stared into his.

-Yeah, yeah whatever.... but yes, I can finally call you mine

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #tomiewrites🌷#ace one piece #portgas ace smut #ace smut #ace fluff #portgas ace fluff #portgas ace #portgas d ace x reader #portagas d. ace #portgas d ace smut #one piece smut #anime smut

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iliketangerines · 30 days

Note

Hi! I'm new in Tumblr and this is my first time requesting, so idk if this is good 😭😭 you have stood out to me because of how good your writing is, and I admire how you always get to write everything the people request without getting stressed or tired and stop writing!

Okay so getting to the point, I wanted to request for more professor Johnny Cage x fem reader smut (it's just so good 😭) and maybe you can add fluff too? Kind of a porn with plot?

Love your work<3!!

no one needs to know pt. 3

a/n: i'm so honored that you used your first request on me

pairing: professor!johnny cage x student!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, overstimulation, mating press, creampies

Johnny kisses your neck, your legs wrapped around his waist and hands buried in his hair as he sucks a dark hickey high into your neck

you’re in his bed tonight rather than the office, and this is the first time you’ve ever been in his arms outside of campus

and Johnny wants to make it special, to have you remember him because in a week you’ll be gone, off to graduate college and scatter to the winds for your career

he pants into your neck trailing kisses further down until he reaches your chest, biting at the soft flesh and listening to your mewls as he presses his tongue flat over the bite mark

he wants you to remember this night, to remember him, to come back to him, but deep down he knows that’s a ridiculous thought

you’re a grown person, able to make their own decisions and finds someone around your age, who isn’t getting old and has pepper streaks in their hair

your nails dig into Johnny’s scalp as he circles your nipple with his tongue, and it snaps him back into the present and onto the moment

he has one more night with you, he doesn’t want to be sad, and so he’ll enjoy tonight with you, try to express his feelings, to love you as best as he can right now

his hand trails up your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its trail, and pinches at your other nipples, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers, and it makes you whine

he can hear you growing more desperate and can feel your hips trying to grind into him, desperate to find any friction against your puffy clit

he chuckles against your skin as you beg, asking him for more, and he tells you to be patient, to let him enjoy tonight, before going back down to tease your nipples with his tongue

you arch your back into him, mewling in pleasure, as Johnny teases you, nipping and sucking at your nipples before pulling back to admire his work

he blows cool air onto your spit-covered chest, and it makes you shiver in anticipation as he moves to lavish your other nipple with the same attention

your hands dig into his hair as you gasp into the air, and Johnny grinds his hips into yours as you tug at his locks, whining about how you need more

your voice is high-pitched and needy as you ask for more again, please, and Johnny pinches your nipple harshly, telling you to behave yourself

you whimper and let Johnny enjoy using your chest as a stress-relief toy, and pleasure hazes your mind as you feel your panties soak with your wetness

finally, Johnny detaches from your chest, giving your nipples one final pinch before shuffling down to spread your legs around his broad shoulders

he nuzzles his cheek into the inside of your thigh, lightly kissing the soft flesh while spreading your sticky folds with his fingers

he watches as you clench around nothing, and he hears you whine in frustration, tears welling up as Johnny continues to leave little bite marks on you

Johnny listens to you yelp and whimper everytime he bites you, smiling at how you moan at how he licks over the mark, soothing the reddened flesh

your thighs twitch around his shoulders, and Johnny gets in closer to your pussy

you can feel his breath on you, and your hips twitch downward, trying to get any sort of friction on your aching clit and slick cunt

Johnny hums and licks a long strip up the length of your pussy, the tip of his tongue pressing a little harder into your clit, making you throw your head back

he eats you out in earnest, sucking on your sensitive clit and pressing his tongue firmly into the sensitive nub as his hands grip onto your thighs

your back arches off the bed, and you eyes squeeze shut at the onslaught of pleasure, whining and panting as Johnny hums around your clit

it sends waves of pleasure shooting up your spine and has your head spinning as your hips twitch and grind against his face

one of his hands let go of your thighs, giving the soft plush one final squeeze, and he brings it to your drooling cunt and slides in two long thick fingers

you choke on a moan, never getting quite used to the thickness of Johnny no matter how many times you showed up to his office

Johnny smirks against your cunt and pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, head filling with ego as he listens to your every gasp and moan

he curls his fingers perfectly, massaging into a spot that your legs tightening around him and your back arching high off the bed as you see stars

your pussy clenches down on his fingers, and you can’t control the high-pitched whine from your throat as you cum around him

he presses long flat licks into your clit, prolonging your orgasm as he watches you through lidded eyes at how you breathe heavily and try to catch your breath

he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck you on his fingers and massage into your sweet spot, and it has your hips twitching, unsure whether to go toward and get away from the stimulation

he hums into your clit again, his other hand holding onto your thigh digging bruises into your soft flesh, and the pain pleasure mix together to make you cum all too soon

you cry out, hips grinding down as you whimper out that it’s too much, it’s too much, you can’t take it, you need him to fuck you on his cock

he laughs into your cunt, the vibrations making your mind melt, and he just tells you that he wants to enjoy this before he loses you forever

you tug at his hair, wanting him to come up and kiss you, but he ignores your pleas and adds another finger into your drooling cunt

he can feel the way your wetness pools on the sheets, and he wants more, needs more

and so he continues to fuck you on his fingers, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you, listening to the way your loud whines turn into soft whimpers

you push at his arms, his head to get him to stop, sobbing as the pleasure becomes too much, and yet your hips still grind down on him as he fucks you through your orgasms

a creamy ring of your release sits at the base of his fingers, and he looks up at you again as your pussy spasms around his cunt as he makes you cum again

you’re whispering his name like a prayer, on a constant repeat as tears stream down your cheeks, and Johnny decides to have mercy on you

he slides his fingers out of you and detaches from your clit with a small pop, and he puts his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue

you watch him through glossy vision as he puts your legs onto his shoulders and crawls up to push you into a mating press

you let out a groan at the stretch in your legs, but all thought flies from your mind when Johnny’s cock slides in between your soaked folds

he grinds against you mindlessly, watching your mouth open as your eyes well up in tears again as you start to beg for him to fuck you

he coos at your desperate pleas, but he doesn’t give in quite yet, wanting to hear you beg just a little bit more for him, needing to hear you say how much you need him

you can’t even begin to think as you blabber out how you want Johnny, you need him fuck you, please, you’ve been so good for him, you need to cum on his cock

you let out a sob, tears dripping down your face as Johnny smiles at you, and he lets out a hum as he finally pulls his hips back, lining his cock to sink in you

you moan at the feeling, and Johnny groans, head leaning forward to nuzzle into your neck as his hips thrust forward slowly

your legs twitch as you throw your head back, and Johnny presses kisses into your neck, biting your softly and listening to you mewl pathetically

his keeps his pace slow, consistent, but his thick cock still stretches you deliciously while his pelvis grinds into your puffy and sensitive clit

even with his slow pace as he mouths at your neck, it still makes your head spin with pleasure, and you cum easily on his cock, still sensitive and over stimulated from before

he groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching down on him, and you can feel how his dick twitches inside of you, and he keeps fucking into you slow

he brings his head up, pressing his lips to yours as he kisses you sweet and honeyed, tongue pressing into your mouth

you kiss him back, cheeks flushing and mind hazy as Johnny’s pace slightly quickens as his hips start to slap against yours

your moans are muffled, and so you can only hear the wet slap of his hips against yours and the squelching every time his cock thrusts in and out of you

the bed rocks softly as Johnny’s pace becomes erratic and sloppy, and he moans into your mouth as he chases his high

you whine into his mouth, wanting more, needing him, and he gladly keeps on kissing you as his hips grind into your clit

he moans as he buries himself deep inside of you one more time, spilling his seed deep inside of you, and you whimper as your pussy clenches down on him, milking him of all he’s worth as you cum again

he stays inside of you even as he softens, just kissing you and enjoying the taste of your mouth as you mewl into his mouth

he moves your legs down to rest on the bed, and he finally pulls out of you, admiring how his cum drips out of you and mixes with your release on the sheets

Johnny disappears into the bathroom, drawing a warm bath before returning to the bedroom and soaking you in the hot water

he goes back to the bedroom and changes the sheets, and he finds you half-asleep in the tub

he almost feels bad for waking you up and bringing you out of the tub to dry you up and tuck you into the fresh-changed bed

he takes a hot shower, wondering how tomorrow morning will play out, and he wonders if he should tell you that he wants you to stay with him

he shakes his head immediately, waving off the idea

you’re far too young for him, too many opportunities to find love, and he’s too old to be falling in love with someone like you

and yet, he still craves you, wants to hold you in his arms, take you out on dates, kiss you in public and not have to worry if someone sees you two

he really shouldn’t, technically you’re still his student, and he’s still your teacher

Johnny washes away the thought and steps out of the shower to dry himself and walk into the bedroom

you’re fast asleep, cuddling into the pillow, and Johnny smiles at the sight and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear

he crawls into bed, being sure not to wake you, and he watches you in the pale moonlight, trying to memorize your features before they’re gone forever

he doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, but he does remember feeling you in his arms, warm and clingy as you grip onto him tightly

he pets your hair softly, breathing in your scent, hoping that this moment never ends, but you wake up to his ministrations and greet him with a groggy good morning

he smiles and greets you, but neither of you make a move to get out of bed

you break the silence first, asking what will become of the two of you after graduation, and Johnny grimaces and tucks your head underneath his chin

he isn’t sure, he says, but you should go and pursue your career, find love

you push at his chest as he mutters out the last part and say that you’re not going anywhere, that you’re working in the same city and that you only want Johnny

you cup his face, and you don’t hesitate to say you want to pursue this relationship further with Johnny, to be with him and to love him

Johnny feels dumbfounded, mouth agape, but you stare at him with such fierce eyes that it knocks him out of his surprise

he tells you that he also wants to be with you, to have you in his arms, to kiss you and love you and take you out on dates in the city

you smile at him and cuddle back into his chest, happy that he had agreed to keep on seeing you after graduation

neither of you get out of bed for a while, too entranced with the warm glow of the morning

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 2 months

Note

Hiii! I was really hoping you could do an nsfw / fluff Kokushibo x fem! Reader and Kokushibo comes home after a long day and he was feeling like he wants to relieve stress by having sex with his wife. (aka the reader)

I really hope this made sense to you because I’m not the best with words.

Btw I really liked the Overstimulated/praise (I think is what it was) with giyuu!

After hours

Paring: Kokushibou x Fem!reader

Synopsis: taking his and your stress away

Content: Modern day au, husband Michikatsu, ceo husband, assistant wife, mention of drinking wine but no one is drunk. just a buzz, light fluff, sex on the couch, praising, spurting, light aftercare, pussy drunk Michikatsu, mating press

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: AHH THANK U!! yall have no idea how much I giggled writing that giyuu fic🤭

Working in the same company as your husband was great. You both made good money, had great positions in your field of work, and had the support of staff members in the company when you announced your engagement years ago. Although, some suspected the relationship between you two would escalate since it's common for a ceo to have a thing for his assistant

You and Michikatsu, of course, learned to keep your personal life separate from work life. However, life always has its ups and downs, and for these past couple of months, work has been piling up more than usual. Work was stressing you both out lately, especially Michikatsu. The number of projects and overtime you both had to do definitely delayed any personal time. Luckily, you finished your work early on a Friday evening, and you told Michikatsu.

He frowned. That means you were able to go home now that you've completed your work, but he was reluctant to let you go. "Can't you stay a bit longer?" Kokushibou firmly said, trying to stay professional, but he just couldn't. He wanted you to stay longer and tried to find some reason for not leaving him just yet. You raised your brow with a soft smirk on your face.

"I didn't know you've gotten so attached me to at work. We're supposed to keep this professional, Mr. Tsugikuni," you teased. Michikatsu's eyes softened at you, along with his facial expression. "You're my assistant. Yet you're also my wife. Is it so bad I'm attached to you, even during work hours, Mrs. Tsugikuni?" Michikatsu replied with his brow raised at you.

You chuckled. "It's not bad, my love. However, I do want to go home now. I love your company, but if I stay in this building any longer, I'll scream," You sarcastically say, but you needed to take this chance and go home. "You should hurry up too. We've been basically living here in this building with the amount of overtime we've been doing," you grinned and gave Michikatsu a pleading look.

Michikatsu stayed silent for a moment before letting out a sharp sigh. "Okay. I'll try and finish early. See you when I get home," Michikatsu leaned back in his chair, stretching before getting back to his room after exchanging his goodbyes with you. His eyes watched as you left, admiring you, his beautiful wife, but then his eyes watched how your hips swayed as you walked, especially in the black shirt and your black tights hugging your legs.

"Fuck... okay okay, back to work. No more distractions," Michikatsu said to himself. Hours went by, and Michikatsu was done. It was 8:30pm when he finished and then arrived at his shares home with you at 9pm. "I'm home," Michikatsu announced his arrival as he came inside the house, taking off his shoes and coat. "Hi! Come in the living room." You peek your head from around the coner and gesture for him to come towards you.

Michikatsu made his way to the living room, tired out of his mind to argue, and then, his eyes lit up a bit. He wasn't expecting a dinner since you and him ate before at the office. However, he wasn't expecting you to have this romantic setup. You had some candles lit, they smelled like vanilla, and you had two glasses of wine set on the mini table in front of the couch, next to a bottle of wine.

You smiled at Michikatsu. His lips curled into an upside, and he made his way towards you. His hands reach out to your waist and pull you close to him and give you a peck on the lips. "You know you could've taken my card to buy the wine," he reminded you, but you shook your head. "You spoil me. So let me spoil you tonight." You smiled at him. Michikatsu got a bit flustered, and you even saw how his cheeks started to turn pink. Now, having a small blush on his face.

"I should go shower-" "no~ come stay here with me. You're acting like you're all sweaty or something," you playfully sniffed Michikatsu, and he chuckled. He placed his hand on your head, petting you for a moment before sitting down on the couch. Once seated, you poured wine for you both and then handed Michikatsu his glass.

You both did a cheers and sipped on the drinks. Michikatsu wasn't one to always start a conversation. He only spoke when needed and always let you start and carry the conversations. He felt the buzz in his body from the wine, and he sure you felt it too since you seem more relaxed instead of being hyper focused like you would at work.

Michikatsu put his arm around you, listening to you speak, but his eyes just wondered your face. From your lips, cheeks, nose, and all over, he just couldn't get enough. It's like his mind was somewhere else. You continue rambling about date ideas. You suggest multiple date ideas for future days off and even suggesting kokushibo to try out new hobbies with you.

You pause midway through your sentence and raise your brow at Michikatsu. "Are you listening?" You asked, holding your half empty glass and paying more attention to his gaze upon you. He was so close, and it felt like you were about to have your first kiss all over again just from his gaze, looking like he wanted to kiss you right now.

Michikatsu nodded. "Uh huh... yeah, painting sounds nice to do on the weekend," he said as his tone got slowly. He had to think to himself while staring into your eyes. How long has it been since he was this close to you other than sleeping next to you in the bed and besides kissing you Good morning and goodnight.

Work really held him back from you, and he realized that. "Everything okay, Michi.. ooh," his name faded slowly from your lips once his hand moved its way to your tit and cupped it in his large hand gently. Michikatsu was so close to you now. His touch and this tension was enough to make it feel like the room got hotter. Michikatsu gave you tit a squeeze before letting it go and placing his hand on your back.

"You're beautiful," he said, putting his wine glass down and cupping your cheek with his other hand and having your body lean back a bit on the couch. "You picked a good night to wear these shorts. You have such pretty legs," he said seductively, pushing you down light onto the couch to be above you. "Michikatsu~" you whispered, closing your eyes as you feel his hand find its way to your inner thigh and grabbing your flesh.

"Even at work. You wear the same office uniform but to see you in your skirt and tights today? It took everything out of me to not rip them off and have my way with you on my desk," his deep voice whispered against your ear. You hold onto his shoulders, feeling your body heat up and bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan once his lips made contact with your neck.

His kisses her so soft for a few moments until he really started to get into it. His breaths become heavier, and you gasped once you felt his lips apply more pressure with each kiss kiss. "I want you, i need you," his voice rasped and restrained himself from continuing until you answered him. "Can we do it? I want to make you feel so good on my cock" Michikatsu's hands hold onto your hips as he slowly grinds himself over your clothed cunt.

"Mhm~ mm," you nod quickly, rolling your hips up to match the rhythm of his grind. "No. I need words, love. Tell me you want it~" Michikatsu said between hitched breaths as he grinded his growing election harder. "I want you. I want you, Michikatsu~" You looked at him, your eyes half yet looking at him with such need. "Good girl." Michikatsu grinned and went back to kissing your neck while having his hands go up your top.

"Careful with the biting, you'll leave marks," you warned Michikatsu with a soft whine, but he only chuckles. "Are you worried others at the office will notice them? Fine. I'll leave my marks where no one but you and I can see them." he smirked, lifing up your shirt over your tips and stopped at your collar bone. "No bra? It's like you wanted me all a long, haven't you, babe? " Michikatsu licked his lips and helped you take off your top and throwing it to the side.

Michikatsu pulled your shorts, along with your panties off, and brought his lips to your tit where. His lips captured your hard nipple in his mouth and began to swirl his tongue around it lightly before sucking on it. Your back arches from his tough, and you moaned with some grunts mixed in once his mouth sucked on random parts around your tits, biting and sucking until the spots turned a deep purple.

"Open your legs for me, sweetheart." Michikatsu pushed his hand between your opening legs, placing three fingers on your pussy and began to rub your clit in big, slow cirlces. "I've kept you pent up, haven't I? You're already this wet for me," Michikatsu hummed as he went to suck on your other nipple. "Michikatsu, Michikatsu~" you moaned his name with heavy breaths as your hips roll in circles to his touch.

"Easy baby. You'll have me soon enough. Be a good girl and cum for me frist" Michikatsu's fingers begin to move in faster cirlces and applying more pressure. "Cum for me and I'll give you this cock you've been so hungry for" Michikatsu said as his jaw clenched, feeling your wetness on his fingertips and your thobbing clit.

You've grown so sensitive from the pent-up sexual frustration that you were close already. His words alone were enough to push you over the edge. Just the thought of having your husband's cock inside you after so long drove you crazy and had you cumming in seconds. Michikatsu's fingers rubbed your clit faster until you were holding onto his muscular biceps and your mouth hung open with loud moans as you cum.

"That's it. You did so well, so proud of you. Ride it out on my fingers, baby." Michikatsu slowed down his finger motions until you calmed down from your orgasm and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. Michikatsu quickly moved his hand away to hurry and unbuckle his belt and to free his hard cock from his pants, not being able to take his pants tightening around it anymore.

Once his cock was free, you saw it stand tall with its usual curve and looking even bigger then you last remembered. Michikatsu already had pre cum oozing from the tip and he grabbed his cock and smered his pre cum around on your pussy. He wasted no time, he watched you as he put his tip inside and then thrusting his hips forward to yours to get all of his cock balls deep inside you.

"Holy shit- fuck" Michikatsu let out a shaking, deeply moean once he was inside and gripped onto the back of your thighs tightly. He leaned forward, making his pelvis press down on yours. You cry out in the overalwhelming pleasure already, but Michikatsu kissed your lips. "Are you ok, my love?" He asked, refraining from thrusting his hips, but instead, he gives thigh thrusts, humping you softly and waiting until you're okay for him to move.

"Yeah~ keep goin'," you whined, and your head falls back onto the pillow. Your arms wrapped around Michikatsu's back and your nails digged into his dress shirt as he thrust his hips, moaning with each thrust from his big, curved cock hitting your gapot repeatedly. Michikatsu couldn't even wait to undress himself fully. He needed you now. He wanted to fuck you, he needed too.

"Come here," kokushibo muttered and leaned in for a sloppy, heated kiss. Hearing kokushibo's deep moans and his whimpers in the kiss and his tounge, French kissing with you made your pussy throb. Your pussy clenches down on his cock and Michikatsu slowed down his thrusts for a moment and pulled away from the kiss, having a thin line of Silvia connecting you two for the moment.

"I got too carried away and didn't realize how these clothes are restricting my moments," Michikatsu pulled down his pants and almost ripped off his dress shirt off his body. You admire his musclar physique and even caress your hand over his pecs. "Hold these for me, sweetheart. I'm going to fuck you harder" Michikatsu pushed your legs back and then grabbed your hands to put them on the back of your thighs.

He wanted you to hold your legs back for him and before you could fully processes anything eles, he had already put his cock back inside you and immediately, his thrusts were much faster and much more rough. You moan loudly, his skin was slapping against yours and you heard the sounds of your wet pussy every time Michikatsu's cock thrusted in and out of you.

"Oh listen to those sweet moans. Moan for me baby, scream for me. Let the neighbors here just how good I'm fucking my pretty, sexy wife. Fuucckk~ your pussy feels so good. So good~" Michikatsu's said as his moans slowly turned into whimpers from how good your pussy was making him feel. He brought a hand to your pussy and used his thumb to rub your clit while fucking you and his other hand gripping onto the couch cushion.

"Kokushibo! I'm gonna~ haa" you announced your close, you look down to see your slick coated on Michikatsu's cock and had your mouth hung open with loud moans. "Yeah? Cum. Now," he demanded, clenching his jaw and watching how your tits bounced with his powerful thrusts. "Let me feel it. Get me soaked in your cum" Michikatsu grunts, spitting out more of his dirty words at you while rubbing your clit faster and his heavy balls slapping against your hole.

He lets out a loud groan as he feels you clenched even tighter, almost not letting him go. You squirted, you whimpered, feeling your juices leak down your hole, and some even get on Michikatsu's thighs. "Yeah~ that's what I wanted." Michikatsu pushed your hands away from your thighs and held your legs back in a V shape, caging you in as he put you in a mating press position and pounds his cock inside.

"So close. Oh fuck baby, Gonna fill you up. Gonna, You. Up- fuck, fuck aaah!~" Michikatsu choked on a moan and whispered loudly as he slams into you, making his tip kiss your cervix as he releases his thick load inside you. There was a lot of his cum spilling inside. You catch your breath with Michikatsu and moaned as you feel some of his cum leak out, even with him still inside.

Michikatsu catches his breath, his musclar thighs even trembling after finally cumming and pulled out slowly. Kokushibo watched as you legs rest and he leaned down to give each of your knees a kiss. "I'll clean the mess up." He said and you both had a small laugh. Kokushibo grabbed some tissues to help clean you up down there so not so much of his cum would leak out as he picked you up and began to head upstairs.

"I could've walked up the stairs to take a bath, Michikatsu." You rest your head on his shoulder and have your arms wrapped around him. "Who said we were done?" Michikatsu asked, and you tensed up. He wasn't done? He wanted more? You looked at him for a moment and then saw him take you to the bedroom.

"I got us an off day tomorrow. So let's keep fucking until we pass out" kokushibo smirked and shut the door behind him.

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #michikatsu x reader #michikatsu smut #kny michikatsu #kokushibo smut #kokushibo x reader

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a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5 · 2 months

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Cuddles with Price because I'm Sad

♡fluff, gn reader, 2nd person pov, kinda headcannony and rambly at the same time, could honestly be platonic or romantic (we love platonic cuddling in this house), mildly self indulgent because i also have sleeping problems♡

A/n: feel like shit so I'm writing this to keep me from thinking about it. Probably won't be very congruent. Might edit it another time but I need to do literally anything else right now. Also planning on making a banner or separator or whatever that little colored bar is I see on other fics cuz I like how it looks, maybe an artsy short dni in it too

It's late. Whether it's nightmares, insomnia, just a bad mood, you can't sleep. Your state has you tossing and turning for what feels like and, as you glance at your clock, has been hours. Being on the cusp of sleep but never finally edging over it and falling asleep drove you crazy. It was honestly a wonder you could still operate well enough despite it.

Everything about trying to sleep was always wrong. The bedsheet felt weird, the mattress was too stiff in this spot, your pillow dipped too much, it was too warm, too cold, you just couldn't for the life of you get comfortable. Then you remembered. Your agreement with a certain higher ranking officer.

You couldn't totally recall how it had started. You'd settled on your lack of sleep contributing to your poor recollection of the memory, but fragments of it told you Price had inquired on your performance after noticing it was below what he expected of you and knew you could do. You told him about your regular sleeping problems, and he empathized. Lots of people on base had sleeping issues, so he wasn't a stranger to such a thing. Having it affect your sleep was something he didn't want, though. Heavy lids on the battlefield could spell death for you, and he didn't want that. When he expressed this to you, you'd joked about crawling into his bed like a child and falling asleep there instead of his own bed.

Later that night, that was where you'd found yourself. And it was where you found yourself now.

You didn't even knock on his door anymore. He knew the sound of your footsteps distinctly. His eyes didn't leave the book he was reading in his bed when you'd entered his room. He just moved a bit closer to one side to allow you space to slot yourself against his side.

You slipped under the heavy covers without a word. The moment you'd smelled his familiar scent, your mind was slowly becoming more quiet, and after you slid into bed next to him, you were almost out instantly. As you squirmed around to get comfy, he slipped a nice bookmark between his pages and closed it. He leaned over, turned out the lamp, and settled alongside you.

It was reflex now for him to pull you against his broad chest. He always smiled a bit when you'd sigh and go slack in his arms and start gently snoring within minutes of being in that position. You trusted him so much, and this was proof of that. It made him proud that he was the one you'd go to.

He would always fall asleep soon after. He didn't tell you that you chased his nightmares away, too.

#john price x reader #john price x male reader #cod mw2 x male reader #price x male reader #male reader #gn reader #fluff

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judeyswife · 2 months

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not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

#Spotify #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fan fic #jude bellingham one shot #bellingham x reader #football x reader #bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham angst #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football angst #real madrid #judeyswife

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yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months

Note

I Hope that you don't mind me requesting.

How do you think Archons would react if their lover was a crybaby? Like cries a lot over every little thing and overall is a realy sensitive person (totaly not me.)

I'm sorry if you don't feel comfortable writing for this, and you have the right to ignore this.

ah this was such an interesting idea tysm! and no, my writing does not depict my actual feelings. but thank you for your request, i hope you enjoy!

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, verbal abuse, mentions of manipulation tactics, archons being bad partners, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti would think it’s cute and a little silly. He will never make fun of you for it, comforting you whenever you do cry, but he will certainly use it against you. You can’t go out by yourself, what happens if something startles you and you start crying? Who will be there to comfort you?

“Now now my little Brise, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You know how things turn out when you try to go out by yourself, just wait a few minutes and I’ll go with you.” Venti’s smile is a hard one to fight, the way his skin pulls perfectly away from his flawless teeth to create the most charming and heartwarming look. It would make you cry how perfect he is if he wasn’t designed to be that way. Everything about Venti was enough to bring up that urge to cry, how he never seemed to leave you alone, how he always seemed to talk too loudly indoors, how he seemed to draw everyone’s eye in public. It was frustrating trying to hold it all in around him, but any time he saw you in tears you’d be swept tightly into his embrace, one you had grown to hate.

Yandere!Zhongli would pity you, wanting you to toughen up emotionally for your own sake. While he’ll certainly outlive you, he can’t be by your side forever and always. To help keep you calm while he’s gone, as he still has duties outside of his previously abandoned Archon role, he has gifted you a small dragon like creature. A housepet of sorts to keep you company.

“Fret not my Bǎoshí, you know I must go as needed. Yánshí will keep you company whilst I attend to some issues within the city.” Zhongli coos gently, soft yet calloused hands gently wiping away your tears as they fall. He feels his heart break a bit every time you cry, wishing that he could do something more to ease the ache. He got you a domesticated geovishap hatchling to keep you company, something fierce and protective in case you should have any issues whilst alone.

Yandere!Raiden would simply scoff at your behavior, calling you childish and weak. She believes that you should be stronger, leaving you to calm yourself any time you have a crying fit. She simply doesn’t believe that someone so weak should even have made it this far in the first place, leaving you to your qualms.

“Do not disgrace my image with your incessant whining, it is lowly and pathetic. No partner of mine should ever act in such a distasteful manner, especially in public eye.” Raiden’s tone was not only harsh, but somehow she made it feel heavy. Every word, every letter seemed to add to the growing weight in your chest, leaving you choking on tears as you sit crumpled on the floor. It truly was a pathetic display, and if it had not been for Raiden picking you up and dragging you back to Tenshukaku, you’d still be crying in the middle of a bustling Inazuma street. Someone had bumped into you and made you spill your food, it really wasn’t anything to cry about.

Yandere!Furina, while she isn’t a crybaby, she is incredibly open about her emotions. Of all currently recognized Archons, she’s the most physically and verbally expressive, even if most of it is childish tantrums. It’s because of this though that she almost relates to your feelings

“Alright, hush now my Pluvieux, it’s alright, it’s going to be ok.” Furina holds you close to her as you cry, her presence alone being enough to keep any curious onlookers from stepping too close to the two of you. Gently, she guides you away from the watchful crowd, wanting to get you somewhere private to calm both of you down. Seeing you cry made her wrath beat strongly beneath her skin, the underlying urge to ruin everything that had made you so sad running rampant beneath her worries. You were her first concern though and she wanted to protect you above all else.

Brise - Breeze

Bǎoshí - Gem/Gemstone

Yánshí - Rock

Pluvieux - Rainy

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mania-sama · 2 months

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A Look into Mental Health: Jujutsu Kaisen Analysis

"Being a child is not a sin." (Nanami Kento, Jujutsu Kaisen)

With the release of Chapter 251, I've seen many horrible takes from dudebros saying that Megumi has "sold" the team. This makes me unreasonably angry because of course it does, so obviously my next plan of action is to take all of my hour-long rants about the mental health of JJK characters and put it here, where said dudebros will never see my (correct) analysis in their entire life. Oh well.

One thing Gege is really, really good at is creating believable, undeniably human, and complex characters. Every character has a different set of motivations, beliefs, ideals, and especially mental states. The constant theme of Jujutsu Kiasen has been "Strength vs Weakness". While the clearest interpretation can be seen through the physical attributes of the characters (Gojo being the strongest sorcerer of his time due to his abilities, and Miwa being one of the weakest, again, due to her abilities), it is also directly applied to the mental strength of characters. No two characters are able to withstand the same trauma and come out the exact same, just as no two real people can process the same trauma. Not only is it a result of nature, as people are genetically different and therefore process information differently, but a product of nurture - in other words, character motivation and environment.

This is where we come to the current state of the manga, Chapter 251. The fated Yuuji vs Megumi debate. I keep seeing people wildly misunderstanding these two, and why it's so important that Megumi isn't standing up to fight, why he isn't able to handle his trauma, when Yuuji can.

Gege writes phenomenal characters. And I want to express just how well done they are, making Jujutsu Kaisen actually kind of deserve its popularity, because some people only care about power scaling. I'm going to touch on Megumi last, because understanding all of the other characters' makes his visible struggle that much more impactful.

1. Geto Suguru

I want to start this mental health analysis with Geto. He is the best representation of depression I've ever seen in Shonen. It doesn't take a hundred chapters to showcase a character's downfall. It doesn't take a hundred significant events to cause a character to break down. Gege shows the best, realistic mental breakdown using only a handful of chapters, and still makes it slow and painful.

Depression can start because of a big event, but it doesn't take more for it to worsen. Untreated, depression runs a vicious course that eats a person through slowly but effectively. It isn't one screaming session, hands clutched over the head and cursing God and the world. It's everything piled onto each other. It's coming to the end of that pile and realizing that nothing will ever change.

This is Geto Suguru's story. He has a big event: the fight with Toji and the failure to save Riko. But his mental health journey was fated to decline, even without the fight and failure. The root issue of his depression came from his ability: Cursed Spirit Manipulation. As long as he kept devouring the embodiment of every vile, human emotion, the more he would lose himself to that vileness. He wasn't changing anything; he couldn't help but continue to swim in negativity because that's all he could do.

Gege wasn't making a commentary on Geto's ability. He was talking about people, as they are, and how staying in a bad situation will not always make you stronger. It can, and most likely will, make you worse. A direct comparison to the sixteen-year-old Geto would be a sixteen-year-old at school, surrounded by people who bully and pick on them with harsh words. The kid will eventually consume all of that bullying, all of that negativity, into their being, because there is simply nowhere else to go. School is mandatory; they can't just leave. They eventually feel isolated, with all that vileness piled on. Even if they have friends, those people could never understand what it's like to put up with humiliation and cruelty day after day.

It's not rational to push away a support system, but who said human beings are always rational? People make mistakes. They don't make the right decisions. Geto didn't. He saw someone offer him a chance at change, a possible light at the top of his pile and twisted it to match his overwhelming negativity. He left and swore to destroy the world that made him the way he is, just as that bullied child may turn away from school and society in whatever form that may take.

I want to touch on the physical aspects of Geto's depression, too. I noted this in a previous analysis I did on him (his character is just that amazing, what can I say?), but Gege knew that the mind can't be affected alone. Geto was drawn with deep eyebags, a nod to an inability to sleep or needing to sleep all the time. Depression makes you tired all the time. Everything becomes difficult. He sits with his back hunched, resting his weight on his knees, like sitting upright is too hard. When someone speaks to him, he blinks and takes a second too long to look over or respond, like speaking takes too much energy. To me, it even looked like he was becoming thinner. It's extremely difficult to maintain a schedule of exercise and mealtimes when your mind is fighting an active war against itself.

Again, a beautiful representation of depression. Geto means a lot to me in this aspect.

2. Gojo Satoru

In comparison to Geto, Gojo's horrible mental health is a lot subtler. Depression isn't the correct term, but you don't have to be depressed to be sad. Sadness is his stagnant state; he has moments of bliss, goals to work towards, a reason to keep going, to continue living, to continue chasing the sun over the horizon, but he does return to the same place he is always at when the lights turn off and he's painfully reminded of this one fact: he is isolated.

All of Gojo's problems start and end with isolation. From the moment he was born, everyone knew he was different. He knew he was different. Through glimpses of his childhood and honestly reading between the lines, it's obvious he never played with kids his age. People don't just develop a superiority complex with their only drive to be better than literally everyone else for no other reason than to get better. It comes from somewhere, and in Gojo's case, it's from his young childhood. It seriously messed him up; even now, he can't shake the lesson that "Strength is the only way to success and happiness".

This is what made Geto so important. Geto was somebody who could share the burden of being the strongest. Geto was someone his age who understood him in a way Shoko could not, though they both were able to see Gojo beyond his capabilities as a Jujutsu sorcerer. Gojo then had somebody to base his moral principles on. Because he couldn't connect with anybody else, he had no basis other than strength. Geto taught him why it was important for the strong to protect the weak.

Then everything went wrong. Gojo became isolated again in his strength and lost the only person who could plausibly stand with him. "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?" Gojo was young, then, and fresh-faced into his newfound godhood. He didn't kill Geto in that moment because he wanted to deny the claim that he is nothing without his strength, that he isn't as shallow as he was raised to be.

But he knew better. He grew older, he killed his best friend, and he realized that he was nothing without his strength. He never got over Geto. In order to cope with the guilt of being unable to save him when he left, he adopted a whole kid, thinking that if he wasn't strong enough to save Geto, maybe he could save Megumi. But there it is all over again - he never broke from the cycle of strength defining his worth. Saving Megumi would define his strength, right? It would prove Geto wrong, right? He raised Megumi under the same logic (that the only way to save his sister is to be strong), only ridding the boy of the crushing isolation.

In this way, Gojo isn't mentally weak. He didn't abandon society and everyone who loved him, instead choosing to hone the trauma of his isolated childhood into a weapon and teach the next generation to be better than himself. He isn't depressed, but he isn't happy. You can't be happy if you're alone all of the time. He hoped Megumi could be someone to stand by him, but in the end, he failed to save Megumi. His strength couldn't save him, just as it couldn't save Geto.

He isn't mentally strong. He isn't weak, either. He is horribly, painfully average. He's not weak enough to be saved, but not strong enough to save others. His childhood plagues him, but not to the point where it prevents him from living. He killed Geto but was unable to bury the body. Gojo is everything he never wanted to be.

As it turns out, strength can't buy you happiness. Gojo may have understood that, but he couldn't abandon it, even to the bitter end. Just as a human struggles to shed their conditioning. Not everyone can break the cycle, but we are always trying our best to work with what we've been dealt.

3. Okkotsu Yuuta

I'm putting Yuuta in between Gojo & Geto and Itadori & Megumi because he is, in a way, a bridge between the two. Geto and Gojo have lived their lives; their stories are complete and ended in tragedy. Itadori and Megumi's are not. They are still actively struggling and fighting their physical and mental battles; their stories have yet to be completed.

Yuuta's story isn't technically completed (ignoring everything that happened in the recent chapter with him for the sake of MY mental health), he is still a success story. He is the average protagonist who started from the bottom and ended up at the top. Only he, as Gege has done time and time again, has a slightly stronger focus on mental health than most other Shonen. He is success where Gojo & Geto failed, and the success that Itadori & Megumi are narratively striving for.

At the beginning, Yuuta was depressed and suicidal. He was bullied at school and involuntarily hurting others. Instead of becoming resentful of the world, he pushed all of the vileness inward. His guilt caused him to try to take his life, presumably multiple times, but Rika stopped him before he could succeed. His life was effectively out of his hands; he felt powerless with all of the bodies stacking around him, and he couldn't atone for "his" actions.

His mental health, as it was, was in shambles. Gojo then offered him a way forward. Yuuta's mental health did not improve overnight. It was when he made friends at Jujutsu High, and developed a support system, that he was able to relieve his anxiety and realize that life is not so bad after all. That all of this pain and suffering and loss - it will pass.

The most important thing to acknowledge when it comes to Yuuta is the sheer fact that he was not alone, nor did he allow himself to be alone. Unlike Gojo, who still had Shoko and Nanami after Geto left but refused to connect with them, Yuuta allowed himself to get close to those around him. They didn't know the suffering he'd undergone for so many years. They didn't know what it was like to be him, but that was okay. He knew that they had empathy, that even though they could never experience his life, they could still be there for him now when he falls.

When given the opportunity to surrender, Yuuta stands in the face of one Geto Suguru and swears to protect his friends and fight with Rika. He's so far removed from the boy who tried to kill himself at the beginning of the manga, and that's because he let himself be changed. He did not succumb. He had friends, he knew. People that would miss him if he left, and people whom he would regret leaving.

This stays consistent with his character. He doesn't let himself become isolated in his strength or his experiences. He's much stronger than everyone else in the room, he's a special grade and he knows that, but he still treats everyone like they are equals. Like they are his friends, like they are people who could share this burden of existence with him. This is something that Gojo couldn't accomplish, which lends to the fact that Gojo had a very off-hand teaching method when it came to mentoring Yuuta. Instead of influencing him under this idea of strength conquers all, he let Yuuta develop far away from the ideals of the Japanese Jujutsu Society.

And, in the end, the fact of him being physically strong - a special-grade sorcerer from the get-go - never helped him in his mental health. In fact, it made him miserable until he learned to get a handle on Rika. His winning or losing that fight with Geto wasn't the point of his character, it was reckoning with the fact that he is okay now. That he can embrace the ugly part of him with dignity instead of guilt.

4. Itadori Yuuji

Itadori's entire character is that he has an unbreakable spirit. As the only one who can bear the soul of Sukuna, he started off like Yuuta, only on the opposite end of the mental health spectrum. When we first see him, he's happy, spending his afternoons with the Occult Club and watching movies.

... What happened?

Like Geto, everything piled on very slowly. So slow that I'm not even sure he felt the true effects of everything he experienced up until the fall of Shibuya. It starts with the death of grandfather, whose parting words "Just save as many people as you can" haunt him even now during the final fight with Sukuna. He was never given time to properly grieve his grandfather, just as he never had time to grieve the brother curses, Junpei, Nanami, Nobara, Gojo, Higurama. At the end of it all, when the fighting is over, I have to wonder what will become of the boy that realizes he's lost most of the people he loved.

The one time he did try to process it, when he realized that he couldn't control Sukuna, was when he broke down in Shibuya. Sukuna leveled an entire city. For the boy who never wanted to kill another human being for fear of devaluing life, the weight of his weakness killing thousands was crushing. Then Nanami died. Nobara died (still hanging onto that unknown status but I digress). Both are right in front of him, and powerless to prevent Mahito from disintegrating their bodies. So, obviously, Itadori broke down. The boy with the unshakeable spirit, the only person who could contain the King of Curses, has his psyche completely shattered.

He laid on the ground, and he wouldn't have gotten back up if there wasn't somebody to help him, to be there with him. Todo pulled him back together, stitched back up the broken into somebody who has allies and people to fight for. Itadori has the success that Yuuta had, only Itadori did not come out of it with better mental health.

After the breakdown, his unshakeable spirit was nothing more than the will to keep fighting. He cares little for himself, and he tries to distance himself from people to prevent them from dying from his cursed hands. He is jumping, quickly, down the same rabbit hole that Geto fell down. One big event, and they realize just how tall the pile already is, and that it will never stop growing. Unlike Geto, however, he continues to get overbearing support from those around him. Against his will. He can't push them away, for they refuse to leave his side. Yuuta, Choso, Megumi, even Higurama. They won't let him fall. This makes him better off than someone alone, in a sense. He can withstand his trauma when others may not.

Even so, even so, there is only so much support, the lack of self-isolation, can do when the traumas keep actively repeating. When he says that he will gladly die to defeat Sukuna, it is not said with the same tone that another Shonen protagonist would say it. Take Naruto for example. If he were to go into a battle to protect, say, Sasuke, he would scream, "I'll die to protect him." We understand that his willpower is stronger than his self-preservation, but we don't get the idea that he actively wants to die. He'll die if he has to. Now, Itadori says the same thing, but about saving Megumi. He says, "I'll gladly die." There is something different. His willpower is leaps and bounds stronger than his self-preservation, but that's not only it. There is an undercurrent of severe suicidal ideation prevalent in Itadori's tone. It's not that he will die to win, it's that a part of him wants for this to be his final fight. For it all to be over. To save Megumi, then atone for the sin of being too weak to save Shibuya, or being unable to stop the Culling Games, or letting Megumi get hurt when all he wanted was to keep him safe.

I'd call it more along the lines of passive suicidal ideation. He doesn't plan to kill himself, but what would it mean for him to go into dangerous situations without protection? What would it mean for him to succumb to his wounds after he wakes Megumi's soul and kills Sukuna? To not even try to seek medical attention? He's guilty. He believes everything that happened in Shibuya and after is his fault. When faced with the executioner's sword, he was ready to die for his sins, if not for the goal of ending the Games. There is a fine line between willing to die for those you love versus wanting to die for those you love.

Right now, Itadori is fighting to save one person, like his grandfather said. He is not fighting to survive. And that's what people fail to understand about Itadori when they compare him to the other members of the cast. These power-scaling dudebros don't understand that their favorite OP main character has fallen apart at the seams, that his unshakeable spirit to save people doesn't include himself.

5. Fushiguro Megumi

Here we finally come to the question: Why can Itadori take it when Megumi can't? There is a very similar quote that you probably think of whenever you hear this question asked. It's from The Outsiders: "Dally is tougher than I am. Why can I take it when Dally can't?" The answer to this question that Ponyboy gives is the same we can attribute to Megumi. "And then I knew. Johnny was the only thing Dally loved. And now Johnny was gone."

The entire reason Megumi became a Jujutsu sorcerer was to protect his sister. When he was five years old and probably too young to understand most of the words Gojo said, he accepted the offer of training to become a sorcerer in exchange for Tsumiki's happiness. Every day, he fought to protect her. He only had one goal in entering the Culling Games: to prevent Tsumiki from having to participate.

It's easy to attribute Megumi's constant attempts at summoning Mahoraga to a lack of will to live - suicidal ideation, the same that Itadori now experiences. On one hand, I do understand that he has a fundamental lack of care for his own life, but on the other, I don't think that he intends to throw it all away every single time. He just didn't know any better. Ignorance can lead to death as easily as intentionally seeking it out. That's why he changes his habit after Gojo gives him a lesson in risking death versus dying to win; Megumi still has someone to live for, after all.

Megumi's mental health was already rocky from the start. Not that it was in shambles like Yuuta, but he wasn't fully stable. Like a lot of teenagers, he's moody, somewhat reclusive, and only really likes one or two people maximum. Teenagers aren't known for their sunshine mental health anyway.

Megumi was given time to grieve Itadori after he first died. This trauma of losing him in front of his eyes stuck with him, but he was allowed a grace period of two months to grieve with Nobara. He experienced Shibuya, too, but he still had that one important person to protect. His mental health was alright at this point, all things considered. As long as his sister was alive, he would be fine.

Sukuna knew this. So Sukuna killed Tsumiki using only the Ten Shadows Teqchnique. The one person Megumi spent his whole life dedicated to, was killed by his own cursed technique, his own failure to suppress Sukuna.

In the void of his soul, Megumi was alone. Truly, utterly alone. The only person nearby was Sukuna, the murderer of his sister, the murderer of thousands upon thousands of people. He drowned in the ceremonial bath of crushed curses to hold his soul down in the depths of despair, literally drenched in all of the vileness the world has to offer. Sukuna killed Gojo using Mahoraga's adaption ability, and before that, Megumi was forced to take several of Gojo's mind-altering domain expansions.

Already, he had given up. He gave up when his sister died, but the rest ground a pointed spur into his neck. When Itadori shakes his soul, Megumi is repeating, "That's enough." He was at the end of his rope a long time ago. What more is there to keep living for? He doesn't want to live with the blood of his sister, the blood of the man who practically raised him, and the blood of countless others drenching his hands.

Sukuna killed all of these people, not Megumi. But then, Sukuna killed of those people in Shibuya, not Itadori. Why can Itadori take it? Why can he keep fighting when Megumi lays broken on the ground? Itadori wasn't alone. And Megumi has never been known for his unshakeable spirit. That is the one thing that Itadori can hold over everybody else, the one trait that everyone admires. He was born to shoulder the burden of the world. Megumi wasn't. Megumi wants to die. He is not passively suicidal, for he has no goals left to complete, a plan to die within the body no longer inhabited alone. He is suicidal. He would drive a stake through his heart if it meant relieving his pain. He doesn't want to do it anymore. He's had enough.

And Itadori was in this position once, too? Perhaps not as directly, but he was there. Here is the moment that the protagonist gives the motivating speech to will someone to keep fighting, that life is worth living. I realized today that this is not something Itadori has done yet. He hasn't had a grand speech that's not been about his own willpower. He's never encouraged someone else to keep living in the way that you would expect from the main character. This is his moment, I suppose. He needs to be the person for Megumi that Todo was for him. He has to show Megumi that he isn't alone.

He needs to save Megumi when, all those years ago, Gojo couldn't save Geto.

I don't think some of this fanbase understands how horrible Gege has to be at writing if he just. Let Megumi get up to fight in Chapter 251. All this time, he has shown how Megumi has been defeated. He showed him crumbled on the ground, unmoving. It shouldn't be a surprise that all of the measures Sukuna took to ensnare Megumi's soul worked. Megumi is suicidal after the people he loves have all died because of his technique. God forbid a sixteen-year-old is unable to cope with his trauma alone.

Honorable Mentions:

There are a lot more characters in this story that represent/show mental illness that I didn't go into depth on but are worth mentioning. It was easier to only talk about the major characters since we spend so much time with them and I can fully flesh out everything that should/can be said about them. Anyway, here are a few more that are notably well-written in their mental struggles:

Yoshino Junpei. His story arc follows very similarly to Geto, except he is the bullied student I was making a reference to. Depressed, alone with a mother whose habits he can't stand, he turned to someone he thought could provide him a better life. Interestingly, he is a good representation of the type of children that tend to be groomed. That's surely what happened to him. Mahito used him, then discarded him for his own gains.

Ieiri Shoko. Her main struggle can be seen through her smoking habits. She's been through a lot, lost so many people, and has to keep healing sorcerers only for them to die. Eventually, she was able to come to terms with this. She kicked her smoking habit at the same time she kicked the vicious mental cycle of caring too much about the patient on her table. It's no wonder she picked up a cigarette, for the first time in a while, when Geto led the phantom parade.

Zenin Maki. She works as a very good contrast to Megumi. They both lost their sisters, the people they loved the most, but she turned all of her grief to killing the Zenin clan and gaining Heavenly Restriction. But this, this is because she could do so. There is simply nothing Megumi can do as a soul trapped in his own body. Her grief made her stronger, while for most, it made them weaker.

Inumaki Toge. He isn't seen a lot, but his story is ultimately quite compelling. A boy who hurt many when he was young. He turned his guilt into kindness, a will to protect. He tends a garden to raise plants healthily, for God's sake. He's one of the examples that shows Yuuta that your past actions don't define you, but instead, what you choose to do going forward.

I am not proofreading any of this before I post it. Sorry if it is borderline unreadable with spelling / grammatical errors.

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