#kissing my beta readers

[stunie]

cleared my schedule for the umemiya fic.

AAAAA please nonnie i love you so much 😭 this made me smile so hard hsjsmmm

aaa tbh (rambling): i’ve never been this nervous to post writing though ?! is it because it’s umemiya ?! my first long wind breaker post ?! IDK AAAAAAAAA I KEEP READING IT IM LOSING MY MIND I FEEL LIKE I HAVE THE WHOLE THING MEMORIZED

[bearw-me]

Absolutely loved that last Carmilla one you did. Could you do a Carmilla x g/n! reader angst turned fluff. Basically insecure/low self esteem reader starts doubting why Carmilla is dating them, they keep hearing what others say and start to think they don't deserve her, she finds out one day.

the angst! the romance! the carmilla hugs! (also ty! I'm glad you liked my writing enough to request something lol!)

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𐐒 includes : carmilla carmine x gender neutral! insecure! reader, zestial/ velvette/ overlords mentioned 𐐒 cw : angst, fluff, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, bullying reader?, hugs/cuddling, crying, reader and carmilla make-out whatt 𐐒 summary : You scroll for too long, obsessed with the idea that Hell is right. . . maybe you don't belong with Carmilla? But then again, she won't really let you go, no matter what anyone says. 𐐒 word count : 946 𐐒 note : just static in my head

You stared with a broken heart at your phone screen, the blue light casting an already darker shadow over your face as you stared at the headlines.

'Carmilla Carmine's New Love Affair?!'

You skimmed over the sub-headers, the bold texts shamelessly poking at you from head to toe, devouring your dignity in one fell swallow.

You groaned, letting your head thump against the cold tile of the kitchen counter.

Is that what they really thought about you? Is that what all of hell was saying? Carmilla. . . The thought summoned tears to your eyes.

Although it was extremely unhealthy to do so, and you thought better of it. You kept scrolling.

The V's, who basically ran the media within the Wraith ring were all talking about it, plastering your face next to hers in an attempt to tear you both down.

The feeling in your hands began to disappear, remembering with darkening vision how the overlords looked down at you like you were something to pity.

Something worth looking down on.

Especially when you stood next to her. . .

The deadliest arms dealer in all of hell.

Even Zestial? The doubt clouded your head like thick rain clouds. Maybe he thought you weren't good enough either. . . just gave you his blessing out of pity.

The way he looked at you, you remember, his shadowy features slumping whenever he turned his attention towards you.

You let the phone go, or maybe it shook out of your trembling hands?

A long, drawn out sigh fled your lungs, quickly replaced by a shaken breath.

At least the marble slab beneath your arms was cool, it felt good against your flushed skin.

Maybe I don't deserve her, the thought tore at your throat, pulling tightly until you couldn't help but let out a quiet sob.

How would you tell her? How would you just. . . let her go without all the questions and hurt?

"Is something wrong, mi corazón?"

You jumped, Carmilla's large hand encasing your quivering shoulders. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't heard her come in.

"No! Nothing's wrong," you promised. . . unable to look her in the eyes.

"What's this?" She reached for your phone, the blue light flashing momentarily against her grey skin.

"Don't!" you insisted, grabbing the phone from her and practically smashing it onto the counter face down. "I was just- I was just reading something. . ." you tried.

"Why won't you look at me then?" Carmilla grabbed at your face, forcing you to look at her.

The way her eyes softened, a burning rage always locked behind them. . . and her beautiful hair was down. A soft cape draping around her figure and spilling over her shoulders.

You couldn't bear it.

The way she grit her teeth in worry. It felt like you didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve her.

You cried in her hands, closing your eyes so that you didn't have to see her reaction.

And she let you, bending down some to hug you close and tight, rubbing your back until all the pain had fled.

It was another couple of minutes until it felt like it was over, the silence encasing you as you sniffled, trying to hide the embarrassing sound in her skin.

"I know what troubles you these days, my love," she pulled away from the hug, able to properly hold eye contact with you.

You must've looked pathetic.

She smiled, the white fangs biting into her lower lip "How beautiful you are," she whispered, brushing the side of your face and feeling the heat beneath your skin.

"Come here, let's talk about it." Without another word, she lifted you up-for just a moment- and whisked down the quiet halls of her penthouse to the bedroom.

She took up the spot next to you, draping her leg over yours and pulling you closer "I know how you must feel," she stared, propping her head up with her hand, the other coming to rest behind your back. "I just want you to know that I love you, mi corazón, with all my heart. . . that is a promise I make to only a few."

She stroked your side, a bashful smile crawling over her her dark lips "Ay dios mio," she muttered, "You hold my heart like no other will."

The confession, no matter how little or how much you heard it from her, filled your chest with sunlight. A feeling of falling in love that you've felt a handful of times. . . but when it came from her. . . it was new again; and so overwhelming.

"Carmilla?"

Her eyebrows popped up in silent question, before you moved forward, taking her lips in yours. Warm and soft as she kissed you back. She let herself fall into your arms, grabbing at your neck for support while you cradled her head, breaking the kiss for just a moment so that you could pin her under you.

You relished in that split moment.

Carmilla laying beneath you, hair splayed out like a halo around her head, black lipstick smeared down and an evil, needy grin spreading across her face like she'd bite you.

But maybe that's what you wanted.

"I love you," you stated, the confidence in those three words- in the way she made you feel- was enough.

She laughed, a sexy little ringing in your ears that made your heart skip a beat. "Oh mi corazón, you make me feel young again." She pulled you down into her chest, smothering you in kisses, the two of you giggling like a pair of young lovebirds.

[iguessigotta]

Idk any actual lore aside from what I've picked up in other fics but listen. I need to write something about Ramattra have you seen the man???

Ramattra x male reader (not specifically trans but that's implied in all my fics 💜)

You started worming your way into his life the moment you first cracked some dark joke about the state of humanity

He was initially curious - what would make a human turn on their own kind?

And, even more confusing, why were you still so kind to those around you - human and omnic alike?

It started as pure curiosity. A simple need to understand.

He started to....linger...near you at times, you could feel him watching you occasionally (every time you turned to catch him staring you'd find him focused on something else way in the distance)

It took more effort than he'd like to admit to stop his amused chuckle at the suspicious squint you'd always send his way

something something now you're dating so bonus thots™️ under the cut

SFW

Ramattra sometimes gives you his version of piggy back rides

It's really just you standing on his hips, arms draped around his neck for balance, watching over his shoulder as he goes about his day

He'll let you hang out there as long as you want tbh he likes being close to you

It's very silly to see but if Ramattra catches anyone laughing...... 😬😬

🔞NSFW🔞

Sometimes, Ramattra is amazed that you, a frail human, would put so much trust into him. That you'd feel safe with him in your most vulnerable moments. He was an Omnic built for war, not-

The thought makes him weak when he's knuckle-deep in you

Though you writhe and pant under him, gripping the sheets until your own knuckles turn white, strangled cries escaping your open mouth while you teeter on the edge of release

Though you haven't even touched him yet

Somehow, Ramattra is just as much of a mess as you are

He feels as though he's trembling, terrified of hurting you (part of him still scoffing at his own concern for a human)

He's so focused on your reactions he swears he can feel your heart beating in his own chest

If you were able to hear anything over your own sounds, you'd notice the once-soft whirring of fans within Ramattra's body has gotten much louder, vents opening on his back to release hot air

He's desperate, touching you as though he'll find his own release through yours

You reach up, intent on dragging his face down to you, but Ramattra beats you to it, burying himself in the crook of your neck

When you finally do tip over the edge - back arching high off the bed as your head flies back with a startled cry - the deep groan that rumbles in your ear and against your chest makes you think he might actually have come undone just from touching you

The thought sends you over the edge a second time, legs locked and trembling around his arm

[shamy-fanatic]

Went to the mall and got blind bags. Five bags later and we got these fellas (the other two don't matter, they aren't tbbt)

[aangelichaos]

Heating Pad

Summary: Joel helps you feel better while you're on your period

Rating: G

Word count: 0.6K

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her early 40s, Joel is in his early 50s), sorta hurt/comfort

A/N: I’m on my period rn and I’ve been ✨suffering✨ and it’s also my bday so I’m writing this little drabble because I deserve it. I just KNOW Joel knows how to deal with this stuff, given he was a single dad raising a girl and then basically became Ellie’s dad. Also I accidentally posted this on my alt initially so it's there too ig. Oops lol

You can’t remember the last time you’ve been in so much pain.

Period cramps usually aren’t this bad for you. Obviously they still hurt, but it’s never anything that some medicine can’t fix. This, though? This is an entirely new level of pain. Nothing has been able to help so far- not painkillers, not your heating pad, not the tea Ellie so helpfully made for you. You groan, holding your waist and curling further into yourself, hoping that it will somehow ease the pain.

“…Sweetheart?”

You look up to see Joel standing in the doorway. You give him a weak, pained smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Hey, Joel.”

He walks toward you, sitting on the edge of your bed and running his hand along your back. “That time of the month, huh?”

You nod. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about it.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, a wave of pain washes over you. You wince, sucking in a breath, and look up at Joel. He looks completely unconvinced, worry evident on his face. “Really, Joel. I’ll be fine. It’s just cramps.”

“Honey, I don’t care if it’s just cramps, I’m not leaving your side until you feel better, okay?” he says, laying down next to you. “Do you honestly think I’m just going to leave you here while you’re clearly in pain? Come on, you know better than that.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You laugh a bit at that, burying your head in his shoulder. “I know.. I just don’t want to make you worry when you don’t need to.”

He kisses your forehead. “I know, baby. But you gotta understand that I want to be there for you when you’re hurtin’. I just wanna help you feel better.” He brings your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to it. “How can I help?”

You sigh. “I don’t fucking know, Joel. I’ve tried everything I could think of, but they won’t go away.” You pull him closer, holding him against you in hopes that maybe his warmth will help with the pain.

“Oh, honey…” he whispers as he rubs your back soothingly. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” He pauses for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Has anything at least been able to help? Make the pain a bit more bearable?”

“The heating pad, I guess?” You shrug. “Didn’t do much, but it worked better than anything else I tried.” You grimace as pain overcomes you again.

“Well, where is it? Even if it doesn’t do much, you should at least have it with you.” You gesture vaguely to the floor, and he spots it next to the bed. “Here, doll.” He hands it to you. “Lay back, don’t curl up like that. I know you want to, but it won’t help.” He plugs in the heating pad. “Where’s it hurt, your waist?”

You nod. “Joel, you don’t gotta do all this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Gotta take care of my favorite lady.” He puts his hand over the heating pad, adding slight pressure. “Oh, you poor thing, can’t imagine how much it hurts.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “Anything else I can do for you, angel?”

You shake your head. “You’ve done more than enough, sweetheart.” You cup his cheek with your hand. “You’re too good to me.”

He smiles, putting his hand over yours. “Just givin’ you what you deserve.”

You pull him towards you, hugging him tightly. “Thank you…”

He hugs you back, squeezing you against him. “No problem, hun.”

Even though cramps are still wracking your body, you’ve never felt so at peace as you lay wrapped in Joel’s arms.

[beomiracles]

hey so what do beta readers do and why i want to do it 🙂‍↔️

you basically get access to my works before i publish them and you read them, giving me feedback on what i could change etc.. or if you catch any spelling errors or just sentences that look weird 😋

like how @gardnhee helps me ✊

[cillyscribbles]

electing to disappear into the woods forever instead of editing any more high noon over camelot fic

[gontagokuhara]

focus group results on ch21 are in

[tendebill]

ekhem....

O RANY BOSKIE-

[feralwritings]

three's company

part three

masterpost | part one | part two | interlude I: 1985

words: 5.3k

so, i ran into a bit of a problem. in scenes where there are other girly pops besides reader, the pronouns can get a little confusing. so, when you see an asterisk (*) next to a she/her/hers pronoun, that's you! hope this helps. let me know if it interrupts the flow at all, if it does i might just use 'reader' in place of a name.

warnings: proceed with the highest caution my dears cause this one is fucking gnarly. more specifically though, graphic depictions of violence against women and men, choking not the fun kind, tentacles again, not in the fun way, this author isn't even into that and was actively gagging while writing that, near drowning, upside down brand of torture, vecna is actively enjoying inflicting pain not in a sexual way he's just a fucking dick. also billy gets his shit fucking rocked. emetophobia warning.

“Holy shit, we thought you guys were goners.”

She and Eddie bent down to accept Dustin’s hug, both smiling fondly down at him when they pulled away. 

“Yeah,” she glanced at Eddie, who was looking at Steve, “We thought so too.”

Steve was next to hug her, winding his arms around her back and pulling her close to him, squeezing her a bit harder than the situation warranted, but she snorted into his shoulder, pushing his chest gently, “Good to see you, too.”

She fixed him with a slightly dubious glance, tilting her head and pressing her lips together before accepting the hug/tackle that Robin gave her. 

She embraced Robin for much longer, listening to Robin ranting in her ear and ranting back. Steve caught snippets of the story, and what he did hear was enough to make his stomach twist uncomfortably.

When her and Robin finally extricated themselves, still standing rather close, they turned to the group at large, tuning into the conversation that Nancy and Eddie were having.

”Do you know what time this was? The attack?” Nancy asked.

”Yeah, I know exactly what time it was. Walkies not the only thing that got soaked,” Eddie tossed her his watch.

”9:27.” Nancy read, glancing at Robin.

”Same time our flashlights went kablooey.”

”Which means what, exactly?” Steve interjected, glancing at Nancy, to Robin, to Eddie, then back at Nancy.

”That surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.”

She* and Eddie both sucked in a breath, exchanging a glance before hurriedly looking away. Steve watched this exchange, his eyebrows furrowing together. 

As the group continued their conversation, her eyes landed on Dustin, who was pacing back and forth, looking out into the woods, hands on his hips, contemplative. 

“Dustin’s not cursed, is he?” Eddie asked, following her eye line to the boy.

Steve shook his head, “Cursed? No. He’s fine. Mental? Absolutely.”

“Boom!” Dustin exclaimed, making everyone jump out of their skin. Nancy turned her head so quickly that she must’ve gotten a crick.

As Dustin launched into an explanation of how he wasn’t wrong, arguing back and forth with Steve about compasses and faulty equipment and electromagnetic fields, she* spaced out, half listening to Dustin and half looking around the woods.

Anxiety bubbled in her chest. A large group of people like this was bound to get noticed, and with Jason on their tail, thinking that Eddie had not only murdered Patrick but was also holding *her hostage, it seemed ill-advised for a bunch of innocents tagging along with a pair of fugitives.

It was only when Robin, who was still stuck to her side said the phrase ‘snack size gate’ that she* was brought back down to earth with a rather unpleasant bump.

”Wait, a gate?” She glanced at Dustin, then Nancy.

”Yeah,” Dustin said, “Weren’t you listening?”

”Yeah, a bit, but how would there be a gate? And why?” *she asked, “Last time a gate was opened, it was Eleven, and she’s not here, so…”

”I don’t know. I just know that something is causing this. And last time we saw anything like this, it was a gate. And I hope it is, cause then we’d have a way to Vecna, and a shot at freeing Max from this curse,” Dustin gestured emphatically with the compass.

“We?” She* asked, raising an eyebrow, “Do you really think that if we find the gate, we’re going to let you or any of you other kiddies anywhere near it?”

Dustin looked affronted, “It’s my theory. I should get to go in.”

She* shook her head, “And we’re grateful, buddy, truly, but there is no way in hell you’re going into the Upside Down. Not happening.”

”Why?” Dustin whined. 

“Because you are fifteen years old, and going into the Upside Down is extremely dangerous. You could be killed.”

”So could you!”

”Doesn’t matter,” She had moved away from Robin now, and was approaching Dustin, “You’re our man in the chair, right? You’re the one running things most of the time. We gotta keep you safe. And letting you go into that hellscape is completely counterintuitive to what we’re trying to accomplish here, right?”

Dustin seemed pleased with the compliment, and the praise, but there was a vestige of defiance remaining. Lucas and Max looked at each other, identical expressions of exasperation painting their faces.

He turned to Eddie, “What say you, Eddie the Banished?”

Eddie’s gaze was fixed somewhere on the ground, pensive as he spoke, “I’d say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor. Which, if I’m being completely honest, I think it’s a really bad idea.”

He looked into the trees, his voice taking on a hint of nostalgia. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the canopy of leaves, and *she caught her breath, feeling that now familiar twist in her stomach whenever she looked at him. He was enigmatic. She was curious.

”But the shire,” He sighed, “The shire is burning.”

There was a rhythmic clunking sound as Dustin jumped up and down, the contents of his backpack shifting and banging against each other. Eddie stood with a flourish, setting his shoulders.

”So, Mordor it is.”

With that, Dustin turned on his heel and started marching in the direction that the compass was leading him, and everyone fell in line after him.

”What is Mordor?” Steve asked no one in particular.

”It’s from Lord of the Rings,” she* and Eddie said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.

”You’ve read them?” Eddie asked, and she nodded, smiling.

”Yeah, I’ve read ‘em a few times.”

”I have the radio show that NPR did back in ‘79 on cassette. I sometimes listen to that if I don’t want to reread the books.”

She* grinned wide, “Fuck, that’s so cool. Are they good?”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically, offering his hand to help to make sure that she didn’t trip over a log, “Yeah, it’s pretty good,” he ducked under a branch that she moved out of the way, “If we survive this, you should come over and listen.”

She* chuckled softly, “Yeah, if we survive, it's a deal.”

They fell back into step behind Dustin, and as the sun began to set in the distance, Steve felt a sort of sinking feeling, watching everyone in the group fall into their own conversations. 

He didn’t know if there was anything to say. And even if there had been, he suspected it might be too late.

Setting out on the boat was no easy task.

They’d burst into a flurry of arguing shortly after uncovering it, and it took some convincing to get Dustin to stay on dry land. 

“Dustin, I know you wanna help,” Steve cajoled, “But we can’t do what we need to if we’re worrying about keeping you, Max and Lucas alive.”

”You don’t need to worry about me! I can handle myself.” Dustin insisted.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “Tell ya what, if your theory is correct-“

”Which it is-“

”Then we’ll… talk about you going with us next time. Okay?”

Dustin seemed satisfied for the moment, confident in his theory and therefore very assured of the fact that he would be able to take on a more direct role.

As she* climbed into the boat after Steve, holding his hand for stability, she bent down and hissed, “Why on earth would you tell him that?”

They were already moving away from the shore, Eddie and Robin rowing the boat towards the middle of the lake, taking directions from Nancy, who had Dustin’s compass, and making adjustments as needed.

”It was the only way I could get him to shut up,” Steve shot back, letting go of her hand once she was settled on the floor of the boat, the benches occupied by the others.

She looked up at him, “You know he’s going to hold you to it, he always does.” She glanced back towards the shore.

”Tell me about Max. What’s going on with her?”

Steve sighed, recounting the events of the past few days. As he told her, her expression became more and more pinched until it looked like she was on the verge of tears.

”Jesus Christ,” She finally said, once he had finished telling her about the graveyard, “That poor kid. This must be so confusing for her. With Billy dying the way he did…”

Steve narrowed his eyes at her, “Yeah, but he… he had it coming.”

Robin was listening now, and every so often Nancy and Eddie would glance back at them.

”Not in that way,” She* clasped her hands around her knees, “He didn’t deserve to die, at least not in that way-“

”Are you serious?” Steve stared at her, “He nearly killed you and you’re telling me that he didn’t deserve to die?”

”He nearly killed all of us,” She reminded him, her gaze growing slowly more dangerous, “Not just me.”

Which, in essence, was true. Steve couldn’t really say that Billy had it out for her* when it seemed that he had it out for everyone. 

”Is there something you’re not telling me?” Steve bent low, trying to keep the conversation between them but he didn’t quite manage it, given the fact that they were in a tiny boat on an echoey lake, “Do you - did he say something to you? At Starcourt?”

”You know I don’t remember, Steve.”

”You told me that you didn’t remember, but I saw what he did to you-“

”And why would I tell you anything?” She hissed, voice rasping with restricted emotion, “It’s not like you stayed after-“

”Stop!” Nancy suddenly exclaimed, holding up a hand, her eyes focused on the compass.

Her* and Steve fell silent, and in the silence, they could hear the metallic needle of the compass whirring in the glass, a high pitched sort of ringing that made her* ears hurt a little.

Chh- “Guys, what’s going on?” Dustin’s voice sounded over the supercomm.

”Come on guys, talk to me.”

Robin recovered first, speaking into the walkie, “Your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ahhhh-“

Steve had begun stripping off his shoes and socks, catching everyone’s eye.

”Steve,” Nancy said, measured yet apprehensive, “What are you doing?”

”Someone’s gotta go down there and check it out.”

”And it just has to be you, doesn’t it?” She* said, rolling her eyes.

”I mean, unless you can beat being a Hawkins High swim team co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years,”

”Oh my god, I was literally on the swim team-“

”And you could never beat my time,” He pointed out, taking off his yellow sweater and tossing it at Eddie, “And, as I said, I was co-captain for three years.”

”Nepotism. And the only reason they kept voting for you is because everyone wanted to see you in your tiny little speedo.”

”And yet,” Steve prepared for his dive, giving a final look over his shoulder, a sarcastic, somewhat evil grin on his lips, “I never heard you complaining.”

And with that, he dove into the lake. She* stared at the spot where he had disappeared, glaring at the ripples, nostrils flared.

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like I hope he drowns, before settling back into the boat, arms crossed and expression even more so.

They dissolved into an awkward silence after that, the boat gently rocking back and forth on the little waves.

Robin was the first one to break the silence, glancing at *her frenetically, opening and closing her mouth before finally speaking, “Sooo, what was that?”

”No comment,” *She said, digging her nails into the flesh of her own arm.

“How long has it been?” *She asked Nancy, her voice betraying a shred of worry.

”Closing in on a minute.” Nancy said softly, keeping a sharp eye on her watch.

Suddenly, Steve burst from the water with a flourish, scaring everyone into yelling at least one expletive at him. 

“I found it.” Steve breathed, reaching out to hold onto the side of the boat. 

“You found it?”

“I found it, yeah.”

“Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein, Steve found the gate in the lake.” Robin said  breathlessly into the supercomm, but they were all so preoccupied with Steve that they hadn’t noticed they’d failed to get a response from the kids. 

“It’s pretty wild,” Steve pinched his nose, rubbing at his nostrils to rid them of water, “More of a snack size gate than the momma gate, but still pretty damn big.”

“Okay, showoff,” she* said, reaching out a hand for Steve to grab so she could haul him back up into the boat, “Just get your ass back in and we’ll figure out our next move.”

He grabbed her forearm, and she leaned back to pull him up when the boat gave a sharp lurch. 

“What the fuck was-“ Eddie began to say, but the rest of his sentence was swallowed by a rush of water in her ears as she was pulled under with Steve, her leg smashing into the rim of the boat as she went. 

She hadn’t had time to take a breath before her head went under, so her lungs burned the entire way down, watching as tendrils wrapped around Steve’s legs and pulled the both of them deeper. Steve had let go of her arm, gesturing wildly in the darkness but she couldn’t tell what he was trying to say, so she dug her fingers into the flesh of his forearm harder. 

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, and as the edges of her vision grew black and she took on water, they broke through the sticky membrane of the gate and fell hard to the dry ground below. 

He landed on his back and she landed on her chest, both letting out screams of pain. 

The tendrils had wrapped around her too, and they ripped her and Steve in opposite directions, dragging Steve on the bare flesh of his back against the rough ground, and her a much shorter distance, landing roughly in a nearby bed of undulating roots, which began to encircle her wrists and ankles, one snaking sinisterly up her spine, along the side of her neck and finally, securely over her mouth. 

The roots thrummed in recognition. 

They remembered her. 

You should be dead, they mused, I thought he had killed you. 

Through flashes of Steve struggling with unknown creatures, vision blacking out from the pain of the barbs that the vines possessed, the harsh pressure on her windpipe, she could see, almost like a window, Starcourt. 

It didn’t make any sense. The image of the mall grew larger, the edges seeping into the very corners of her vision until it was all she could see. 

The rest of the Upside Down fell away, the sounds of Steve screaming, the distant rolling thunder, everything. 

Instead, she felt the rumble of an engine below her. Hands that weren’t hers gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles shining white against the neon blush on skin from the lights of the mall. 

Her own thoughts played in the back of whatever this was, like she was screaming at her own body from another room. 

She caught her eyes in the rearview mirror, and saw the bloodshot baby blues of Billy Hargrove staring back at her. 

As her mind sluggishly put together the pieces, she knew, distantly, what this was. 

Nancy’s Grand Prix came into view. 

As the car accelerated under him, Billy felt a thrill of fear when the first bullet hit the windshield. There was no stopping the car, try as some part of him might, with the voice in his head and in control of his hands, his feet, his body, he knew that impact was imminent.

As he sped closer, he zeroed in on her, on Nancy, face fixed in a snarl as she emptied the magazine into his windshield unblinkingly.

Ah, The Voice inside him said, and Billy could feel it’s - his - he could feel the cruel laughter, Her again. She will be dealt with. In time.

He was twenty feet away. 

Fifteen. 

Ten.

Suddenly, the world spun, and the only eyes he could see out of were the eyes of his precious creature, his beautiful creation, looking down upon the parking lot. Fire had erupted across the hood of the car, and Billy laid against the door, head lolling uselessly out of the window.

Humans, he considered as his creature jumped to the pavement below, tearing after the car that was speeding away from the mall. So fragile.

It was the heat that woke Billy. The sharp spikes of pain all over his body were enough to rouse him, and as he opened the door and collapsed out of it, he heard distant voices, frantic and labored. 

He peered into the distance, four figures coming in and out of focus.

“How we doin, El?” A female voice spoke, someone familiar to Billy, and The Voice felt it too, some old annoyance, not unlike a persistent fly buzzing around his head, distracting him, “Keep her talking, Mike, she’s gotta stay awake.”

“I’m trying!”

He heard the metallic creaking next, and as he drew closer, he saw a flash of yellow.

Eleven.

His heart leapt in excitement, in triumph, that the one he had been searching for all this time had walked right out into his midst, like an innocent little lamb being led to slaughter. It was almost too perfect.

The tallest figure spotted Billy first.

“Fuck, turn around,” She said, stepping in front of the three smaller figures, in front of Eleven, raising some sort of weapon in her arms.

“What?” The boy said, hitching Eleven higher on his shoulder. His knuckles were white from the ferocity of his grip on her, “Oh, shit, go go go go go go!”

Together, he and the redheaded child -

Max, Billy thought miserably, Max.

Her name does not matter. She’ll be dead soon anyway. Together, he and Max dragged Eleven back towards the door, and The Annoyance stood her ground. Behind her, the gate slid closed.

“You and me, Hargrove,” She cooed, grinning, “Just like old times, whaddya say?”

She seemed as bloodthirsty as he felt, and the complete lack of fear in her gaze, the almost maniacal smile on her lips… had she not tried to derail his plan at every turn, she may have made a good ally. There was a darkness within her that he could sense, that he could feel coursing through her veins as he watched her carotid jumping in her neck.

There was no time for that now. She had made it abundantly clear that she was going to continue to be a thorn in his side, poking and prodding.

He simply had to prune the poison away. That was all.

She cocked her head, swinging her weapon - an axe, he now saw - low to the ground, taunting him, “Come on, aren’t you gonna do anything?”

Billy’s body was his only vessel at the moment, so he had to approach this carefully. One misstep and his vessel could be reduced to a useless pile of limbs.

His creature wouldn’t make it back in time to capture Eleven.

So, he charged towards her left, and at the last moment, changed course, feinting to her right.

The swing of the axe had unbalanced her enough that he was able to seize a hank of her hair and slam her face into the metal gate. She screamed in pain, the impact shocking her into dropping the axe. He kicked it away, sending it skittering across the pavement.

Evidently, she had learned from her last encounter with Billy, using her weight to twist and unbalance him in turn, sinking a well aimed but somewhat weak punch to Billy’s gut, as she hadn’t had time to properly wind up.

She used her momentum to sweep his leg with a powerful kick, shoving him to the ground. She kneeled on his chest, her other knee trapping his arm, and she seized the crown of his head and began slamming it repeatedly into the cement below.

The fortification of his essence running through Billy’s veins had made him stronger, smarter, so with the arm that wasn’t pinned, he landed a blow to her ribs, feeling them crack beneath his knuckles.

She did not relinquish her hold on him, seizing his wrist before he could swing it again, digging her nails brutally into his flesh.

He planted the soles of his feet on the ground, lifting his pelvis in a sharp thrust, knocking her off of his chest, and onto the ground. He scrambled to pin her, winding his hands around her neck, keeping his elbows locked, pressing all of his body weight down.

She wound her hands around his wrists, trying in vain to claw them away from her throat, thrashing wildly beneath him. Then, she raised her knee in a sharp line, hitting him directly in the groin.

Of all of the injuries that she had inflicted upon Billy’s body so far, this one was the worst. The shock of it reverberated through Billy’s body, and control of his limbs waned between the two parts of Billy’s mind, his grip slackening enough for her to be able to throw him off, rolling on her back and onto her feet in a crouch.

She spat blood out of her mouth, looking at him through her lashes, a dark purple bruise already blooming on her cheekbone. She was moving away from him, the toes of her sneakers circling backward as she inched towards the burning Camaro. 

“You’ll never save them,” He taunted, slinking towards her, towering over her.

“We’ll see about that,” She said, “I’ve kept them alive this long. What’s a little longer?”

“You’ll die trying,” He stated, simply, as if they were having a conversation about the weather, “And I’ll make you watch as I end them, and I will make sure the last thought in that pretty little head of yours is how you failed them.”

“Aww,” She gave him a glowing, sarcastic smile, “You really think I’m pretty?”

She used his momentary distraction of his threat not landing to stoop down quickly, seizing a jagged piece of glass from the shattered windshield, and came at him with it, swiping for his jugular.

He ducked out of the way, seizing her forearm and twisting it behind her back, and she cried out in pain as he used her own wrist to thrust the piece of glass into her back.

Chest to chest, he could feel her heartbeat racing against her ribcage. There was still that fire in her eyes, that willful and idiotic defiance. He could be severing her spinal cord right now, he could feel her blood seeping around his fingers, but she still stood on her own two feet, ready to challenge him, to fight him until her last breath.

It was a delicious challenge, sure, and he relished the fear he could feel, but this was getting tiresome, and with every minute that passed, Eleven had a better chance of escaping. Not that she would, he’d make sure of that, but this journey had been so hard fought, filled with so much pain, so much agony, so much needless and inconvenient bloodshed that he was growing wary. His goal was in sight, and he couldn’t allow himself to get continually distracted.

She reared back and spat in his face, and as the blood and saliva mixed with Billy’s, dripping into his mouth, a flood of memories washed over him.

Two toddlers on a hot afternoon’s day, splashing each other in a small pool, the edges of which were lined with colorful fish. Two children, older, riding bikes down an autumn streaked road, shouts of laughter echoing off of the picket fenced houses. The ruined face of a teenage boy, blood streaked and bruised, her delicate hand pressing a cool cloth into a gash along the bridge of his nose, his big brown eyes boring into hers. An almost kiss between a shared cigarette on a row of bleachers, chilly night air pressing into them. The exchange of an ice cream cone over a counter, a warm smile and a nametag reading ‘Steve’ flashing under fluorescent lights.

And, suddenly, he understood why she fought so hard. Why she had fought Billy so hard all that time ago, and why, even now, as she grew weaker in his grasp, she fought.

Love.

How fucking pathetic.

“Oh, you poor thing,” He drawled, “He’ll never feel the same. If Steve cared about you at all, he’d be here.” 

He glanced around theatrically, and when his eyes landed on her face again, that fire was extinguished, finally, by the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“But he’s not,” He brushed away a tear as it fell, “And he never will be.”

He caressed her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering. He wound his fingers into her hair, whipping her around and he slammed her face against the hood of the Camaro.

She went limp, finally, collapsing onto the ground, cheek resting against the rough gravel.

She didn’t move again.

“Steve! Where is she?”

“I don’t- she wasn’t - we got separated-”

“Fuck!”

“She’s gotta be here somewhere, fucking look!” 

All of their voices mingled, high and low tones of mingled desperation, fear and rage.

“She can’t have gotten far,” Eddie reasoned tearfully, “She’s got to be here somewhere.”

“Steve,” Robin gasped, “You’re bleeding.”

“I don’t care.”

“Like a lot.”

“Robin, just-”

“No! Shut up and let me-”

Nancy had torn off wordlessly in what seemed to be a random direction, but as Eddie’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the Upside Down, he saw a heap of vines, thick, tangled cables, undulating and encircling, almost lovingly, a body.

Her body.

Eddie followed suit, leaping over tangles of vines and debris, landing in a slide next to Nancy, who was tugging at the vines with her bare hands, grunting with the effort.

The sight was nothing short of horrible. Her irises had turned milky white, and every few seconds she jerked and gurgled around the tendril that was intubating her. The whites of her eyes had burst capillaries. She couldn’t breathe. She was dying, right before their eyes.

Steve and Robin had joined them by now, fruitlessly tugging at the tendrils. Eddie gripped the tendril that was slinking its way down her throat, and tugged.

At first, he was met with resistance, but as Steve shouted something, Eddie couldn’t really tell what it was, and Robin pleaded and Nancy managed to free one of her hands, the tendril’s hold grew weaker, and soon enough, he was ripping it from her mouth.

Color flooded back into her irises as she launched herself out of the bed of vines, scrambling away on her hands and knees. She braced herself on one arm as the other came to encircle her stomach, and she retched, coughing up some gelatinous substance mixed with blood and lake water. Her hair hung lankly around her face as she stayed hunched over.

Four pairs of hands were on her in an instant. Steve at the front, cupping her face and pulling it level with his, one of Eddie’s on top of Steve’s as they both crowded in front of her, looking into her face. Nancy had one hand rubbing soothing circles into her back, and Robin was brushing her hair away from her forehead.

“You’re okay,” Robin whispered, almost like a prayer, “You’re okay, you’re okay, it’s okay.”

“Look at me,” Steve pleaded, “Can you breathe?”

“Let her catch her breath, man, she just had a fucking - whatever that was down her throat, it’s gonna take her a second-”

She clasped a shaking hand on each of their shoulders, and shoved both Eddie and Steve bodily away from her, doubling over once more to vomit a final time, before rolling onto her back, limbs going boneless, staring up at the crimson streaked sky.

“That,” she heaved, sniffling, “sucked.”

Nancy let out a strangled laugh and bent over her, smoothing a hand across her forehead, “Welcome back.”

“Hi, Nance,” She reached up to pat Nancy’s cheek clumsily, “Is everyone okay?”

They all murmured that they were, and she looked around, taking in her surroundings.

When Steve came into her field of vision, she swallowed thickly, expression tightening, and once her eyes fell on his neck and chest, she frowned, “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He helped her sit up, resting her back against his chest, “God, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Jury’s still out,” she rasped, reaching for Robin, squeezing her hand, before turning in Steve’s grasp to look at Eddie, and she reached out to touch him as well, brushing a shaking hand over his face. He gave her a watery smile, turning to brush his lips against the pads of her fingers as her hand fell away. He wasn’t sure that anyone noticed.

Once she had made sure that everyone was okay, and tangible, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“I should get hurt more often,” She mused, easing herself out of Steve’s grasp and slowly getting to her feet, Robin and Nancy helping her, “You all are so cute when you’re worried.”

“Don’t even start,” Robin huffed, slinging an arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she got her bearings.

“Least she’s still got a sense of humor,” Steve said, helping Eddie to his feet.

Nancy watched this entire exchange warmly, running a hand through her wet hair, “Well, we should-”

A distant screech swallowed the rest of her sentence. They all turned, eyes landing on the pulsating, scarlet gate as winged creatures surrounded it, bearing their teeth menacingly, chittering and screeching.

“What the hell are those?” She* asked, eyes growing wide in fear.

“Bats.” Steve said, “They attacked me, nasty little-”

“You told me not to worry!” She* wailed, taking better stock of his injuries, “Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“Do you think these bats have rabies?” Robin asked, shining her flashlight in the direction of a bat corpse.

Steve glanced at her, before turning his attention back to the ones that were surrounding the gate, “What?”

“Well,” Robin sighed, “It’s just, like, rabies are my number one greatest fear, and I think we should get you to a doctor soon, cause once the symptoms set in, it’s too late, and you’re dead-”

“Wonderful,” She* groaned.

Steve was lowering into a half crouch, eyes trained animalistically on the gate, “We can take them, right? It’s not that many.”

As if in response to his question (and, knowing the hive mind, it probably was) a moving, jagged cloud appeared in the distance. As it came into view, hundreds of distinct little flapping shadows loomed over them.

“You were saying?” Robin squeaked.

Nancy turned to look at the woods, and then at her*, “Can you run?”

She* cocked an eyebrow, “Do I have a choice?”

Nancy shook her head, “Not really, no.”

As the swarm drew closer, they sprinted in the direction of the woods, and soon enough, they were swallowed by a lifeless, decaying forest, thunder rumbling in the distance.

As the perpetual night pressed in on them, poisonous dust entered their lungs as they sucked in air, they all had some inkling of what they were facing, and what they were running towards.

But none better than her*. She finally knew the depths of what had happened last year, the story behind each scar on her skin. The reason for the phantom pain that woke her in the night, the confusing and aimless night terrors that never made any sense, and that were gone by the morning, stored away in the shadowy recesses of her mind.

She knew that this ecosystem knew her. She knew that it understood her.

And she knew, looking at her friends, these people that she loved, that she cherished, that Vecna was never going to stop until he had taken everything from her.

Everything.

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[zumicho]

YOU CAN ALLL

GO HOMEEEEEEEE NOWWWWWWW

𝗰𝘄: language, making out hehe, suggestive, slight angst

<<< back ✱ menu ✱ next >>>

“That’s just awful.” Suna said it with a laugh, the two of you were already in stitches over the accusations on his laptop. This one, like hundreds of others, was as terrible as it was amusing.

On June 4th, this bitch borrowed earrings that belonged to my dead grandmother and never gave them back.

You stifled a laugh with the palm of your hand as you watched Suna, who did nothing to hide his own thrill, type out the generously provided message, finishing off with the name of the culprit. Uploaded.

You found yourself once more on his shabby apartment carpet, eyes excitedly dashing between each submission. There’d been close to 400 just that week. The list was filled with expected and unexpected names alike: names you’d never read in your life, names of people who sat next to you in class, of someone you went to highschool with, repeat offenders, and your favorite, people who had pristine reputations. No matter how much of a saint these names appeared to be, once they went up on the website, their reputations would be tarnished by their wrongdoings.

It didn’t help their case that the entire school seemed to be waiting on pins and needles for each update. People always take a sick pleasure in watching others’ dirty laundry get aired out, you and Suna were happy to provide. There was only one rule to the whole ordeal: what they did had to be morally wrong. “It’s not gossip,” you’d told Suna, “it’s a warning.” As you saw it, the two of you were righteous benefactors of warnings.

“Are there any left?” You asked, peering over his shoulder at the screen, “Nah.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment. It certainly wasn’t a slow night, but you both knew you’d never get enough of it. Rintaro stretched out his sore shoulders, then leaned back against his palms, lolling his head over to look at you sitting cross-legged beside him. His brows shot up playfully, an unreadable parade of thoughts seemed to be marching through his mind in that moment. 

“I like this.” He stated plainly, to which you hummed in agreement, “Did you see that news article?” You followed, tilting your head curiously as he stood up with a groan and walked over to his nightstand. Suna pulled open the drawer, showing you the tattered clipping he had proudly cut from the newspaper, “I’m thinking of framing it.”

A satisfied grin twisted at the corners of your lips as you hoisted yourself up to get a better look at the paper, though you’d already read it tens, if not hundreds of times. University in Shambles. And it was all your doing. Together. 

Gazing upon the tiny printed words, something marvelous came to mind. It was a fleet of the moment idea until you broke the silence to turn it into something else, something better. “I wanna keep doing this.” 

Suna eyed you questioningly, “We’re not planning on stopping anytime soon, are we?” It’s true, the both of you had agreed not to quit your selfless duties unless you felt like someone was onto you, and so far, nobody had a clue. “I mean,” you started, taking the clipping from his hands to examine it with delight, “I want to keep doing this after college.”

To this, Rintaro finally turned to face you fully, eyes slightly widened, “Oh?” “Imagine it, Rin,” you sighed, slipping the little piece of paper back into his drawer, “not only knowing about the assholes on campus, but, knowing about them everywhere else.” Something akin to excitement flashed in his eyes, he keened on every word you said like it was the best thing he’d ever heard. It was the best thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s risky, but would you wanna do that? Make On Sight open to the public?”

His breaths began to shallow at the thought, how many submissions would there be? Not only would the university be in shambles, but so would the rest of the world. It made his chest bubble with unadulterated pleasure. Perhaps you weren’t great people for this, but neither were the ones whose names went up every night. A crime where the victims were no victims at all, they’re equally as bad as the two of you, if not worse. 

“That’d be terrible,” he licked his lips with fervor, “we should do it.”

You smirked with satisfaction, he was just as desperate for it as you were. Nothing was holding you back from keeping this rotten secret of yours for as long as you possibly could, not time and certainly not a lack of devotion. “Think you can keep a secret for that long?” You murmured coyly, inching closer to him, tantalized by this future you were beginning to picture. A future with him in it long past university.

“You know I can.” Suna’s face lowered to yours, eyes flickering down until he could feel his knees weaken at your grin. In that very moment, adrenaline coursed furiously through your veins, there’s nothing in the world that you could do without him wanting in on it. You two managed to bring out the very worst in each other, but it worked, it was beautiful, perfect, even. 

That was the point of the night in which everything blurred into one splotch of thrill in your mind. One moment the two of you were frozen in this sudden revelation of desire, the next his hand was on your jaw, pulling you into a deep, long-overdue kiss. Suna’s lips danced against yours with passion, need emanating in every touch to your flesh, your head spun as his tongue grazed against yours and you would have been able to taste his aching for you had the flavor of your own hunger not overpowered it. 

A clumsy three-step trip to his squeaky bed was made, he landed on his back, panting for more as you climbed atop him. You didn’t get the chance to see the way in which his eyes glazed over as you slipped off your sweatshirt, he’d already pulled you back down to kiss him in a frenzy. 

The air was filled with heavy breaths as he broke away to lose his own shirt, a scoff leaving his lips once you met heavy, lusted eyes, and you can’t help but laugh at yourselves. Foreheads pressed against each other and the tips of your noses touching, it’s all too wonderful. 

“You’re killing me.” He whispered against your lips, before seizing them, gripping your waist to flip you onto his pillow. 

The bed squeaked too loudly, you’re sure the headboard of which was fucking up the lazy paint job of his apartment, and the two of you couldn’t stop laughing between kisses, but that night would surely be the only perfect one in your life. You cherished it like it was gold. 

Suna was your best friend, but now he was something more, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you both would like to keep it that way for a while.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

✱ now you know their little agreement

✱ RIP sunarin's roommate who probably heard more than he'd like to hear

✱ wow i hope nothing bad happens to this budding romance it would be a shame

✱ mattsun tinder slight reference to HOT TO GO by @nectardaddy go read it right mf NOW

✱ the unanimous vote for marry on the podcast is bokuto

𝗮/𝗻: ugh sorry this is posted kinda late today was wacky. i saw borderlands, don't watch it girlfriend it's bad. i had to watch maxxxine as a palette cleanser afterwards, i fucking love that trilogy omfgggg. thanks for beta reading ree, fly high, i miss you

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @zumicho @nectardaddy @moucheslove @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses @piopioo @lvtilzs @s777athv @localgaytrainwreck @reignsaway @savemebrazilhinata @pop-ghost @naweirdo @sunsribn @staileykout @milesmoralesluvs @chaconadine @aboutkiyoomi @m3gitsune @wizardhore @ineednanami @wakashudou @torkorpse @st4rdusttx @renkitsune @solaqes @sereniteav @eveyams @myromanempiree @saltypuffin1040 @nbcvs @gsyche @miiyas @starkyu @renardiererin @puppenpop @sleepystrwbrryy @yumiecheesecrackers @sp1ng @mfcherry @semieita24srockstargf @nanamis-right-tiddie @strawbrinkofdeath @piapiaweee3 @walllflowerrrsss @gigiiiiislife @grassbutneo @cupidsblonde

taglist status: open! 48/50 (please send an ask to be added)

[chrollogy]

SILKEN WEB

— chrollo lucilfer x f!reader x hisoka morow

syn: Hisoka’s ‘generosity’ allows Chrollo to fuck you in front of him after he’s seen the way the latter has looked at you. Though, the redhead cannot help but join in on the fun despite being the cuck—he has his ways, he always does.

18+ MDNI; explicit smut, porn without plot, cuckolding, voyeurism, threesome, creampie unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f & m), anal (f), masturbation (m), edging, overstimulation, hisoka uses bungee gum, chrollo might be pining over reader, not beta read.

word count: 2.8k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. the fruit of my late night thoughts nod nod. as per poll results, here’s hisoka as the cuck :3

Fantasizing—a children’s pastime, a mere way to escape from one’s gruelling reality but Chrollo Lucilfer would be lying to himself if he deemed he wasn’t immune to it. Oh, he certainly wasn’t without a doubt; the root of all his wildest dreams, and twisted carnal desires was none other than the woman beneath him, all in her serene nakedness—you.

So breathtakingly exquisite—the epitome of beauty. From the lust-clouded gaze that complimented the colour of your eyes all the way to the dulcet tone of your breaths, this was sinful heaven for Chrollo. Sinful not because of the sharp pleasure kissing down his spine but simply because you weren’t his, and he wasn’t yours. Not lovers, not friends, mere acquaintances, and your heart was reserved for none other than a member of the Troupe he led.

But that never stopped Chrollo from fantasizing about you, about this. Ever the observant fighter, it didn’t take long for Hisoka to catch the former’s lingering stares on you—albeit, as blank as a sheet of paper—whenever he paraded you around. One of the biggest telling signs was that Chrollo had never uttered a word regarding your presence whenever you sat there during their meetings despite the other members’ dismay.

Of course, once something piqued Hisoka’s curiosity, he wouldn’t let go until a solid answer was handed to him on a silver platter. It was a short exchange between the two males, a few sharp retorts from Hisoka’s end but nonetheless, it led to this lewd scene. Per the magician’s words, he gave Chrollo permission to do whatever he pleased to you—to fuck, to make love, to get lost in eye-rolling pleasure within your very walls but only if he got to watch everything unfold.

From the intimate act of undressing, and peeling of clothes all the way to a passionate climax that was sure to vex his very bones, Hisoka was to watch it all.

Faint squeaks of the bed frame paired with yours, and Chrollo’s heated gasps filled every corner of the room; his thrusts were deep, and rapid, body intimately flushed against your own which absolutely left no room for coherent words to come out—with the way his cockhead repeatedly prodded your sweet spot, strings of broken whimpers, and low moans were the best you could muster.

Sex wasn’t something you were foreign with but the ungodly rhythm of Chrollo’s hips was enough to make you feel like a virgin again begging for more, more, more, nothing but pleasure engrained inside your mind, clawing, and running after that blissful sensation.

Chrollo was different from Hisoka, he handled you with the utmost gentleness but that didn’t take away the fact that he pounded you oh-so-passionately into the ivory mattress beneath. On the other hand, Hisoka was rough, and animalistic—purely driven by his wild carnal desires. 

Chrollo’s sweat-lined forehead rested against yours, face mere centimetres from your own as your breaths intertwined in a vulgar dance. The hearts of his palms captured your trembling hands in a firm hold, pinning them on either side of your head, and used as leverage to drive his cock deeper into your sopping cunt—as deep as his desires went for you.

He closed his eyes at the feel of your walls clenching around him, jaw tightening as electric pleasure shot up his spine, “F-fuck . .” God, you felt divine, Chrollo truly wanted to keep you to himself. He could treat you so much better than Hisoka—have you reach new heights of pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

Alas, that was out of the picture, Chrollo would have to settle for the mere intimacy of fucking you beneath these ivory covers, the same ones you, and Hisoka retire under after a long, tiring day. The duvet draped loosely across Chrollo’s back, mirroring a broken angel’s wings, and with the eager thrusts of his hips, it slowly slipped downwards. It was hot, and stuffy beneath the weight of the blanket but he’d do anything to keep the lewd intimacy from a pair of prying eyes.

That’s right, Hisoka sat on a chair not too far off the foot of the bed, an unamused expression plastered on his face but the growing tent between his spreaded legs hinted far from unamused.

Sure, the pornographic sounds bouncing off the walls had his cock hardening but Hisoka was deprived. He clicked his tongue, the sharp sound was enough to reel Chrollo out of his pleasured state followed by a stutter in his thrusts. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Chrollo but I said to give me a show, didn’t I?” What was Hisoka supposed to do with your bodies tucked beneath the covers? 

His view was nothing but the top half of Chrollo’s naked back, and the covers moving along with the latter’s thrusts, other than that, it left everything to Hisoka’s imagination. Of course, he wasn’t going to let it be, not after he generously let Chrollo fuck you like this.

With a swift flick of his index finger, the rubbery bright pink aura extended from the tip of his digit all the way to the ivory covers atop Chrollo’s naked back, attaching itself onto the fabric. A smirk crept its way up to Hisoka’s face as he pulled the covers down, exposing the way your naked bodies intimately tangled with one another.

A rather surprised gasp left your lips as the cool air hugged your fervent body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Naturally, this had also caught Chrollo off guard but didn’t let on, instead, the raven haired male responded by drilling his hips at a much faster pace, pulling a string of broken moans from your throat which only fuelled the excitement embedded in Hisoka’s chest.

Light amber eyes fixated where you and Chrollo met, Hisoka intently watched as the former’s cock disappeared, and reappeared between your coated slit—not to mention the light sheen of your essence around Chrollo’s cock, causing it to glimmer beneath the afternoon rays that seeped through the windows. Now, this was what Hisoka wanted to see—you, and Chrollo all in your filthy glory.

The feeling of blood rapidly rushing down to his cock, and the familiar tingle between his legs made Hisoka’s citrine gaze roll back, not to mention the growing delight on his face—it was anything but an innocent look. Lewd, wet sounds that were once muffled beneath the ivory duvet now reached Hisoka’s ears like an unholy melody; the constant skin slapping, the mixture of high, and low moans—the impurity of it all, your lover revelled in it.

Sounds of the redhead’s shameless pornographic moans intertwined with your own, and Chrollo’s as he teased himself through the fabric of his pants. Excitement shocked every part of his body like electricity, rendering him sensitive to anything, and everything—it was the same sensation as the extreme bloodlust he felt whenever he thirsted for battle.

Chrollo quietly clicked his tongue, not bothering to glance back at Hisoka in annoyance. He needed to focus on you. And he did. Without compromising the pace of his hips, Chrollo hooked his fingers beneath the back of your right knee, and deftly slung your whole leg atop his shoulder. The deeper angle of his cock had your back arching, your hands scrambled for his taut biceps to claw, and dig into as he pushed you further, and further into the borders of insanity.

“C-Chrollo! Fuck—right there! Just like that—haah!”

He let out a low groan as your nails marked him up, leaving streaks of bright red on his skin. By the looks of it, he wasn’t going to last much longer with the way your cunt gripped him like a vice. Nonetheless, Chrollo’s pace didn’t let up despite the resistance of your walls, albeit, it had his legs quivering, and breath hitching—god, Hisoka was so fucking lucky to have this, to have you.

Chrollo closed his eyes, and parted his lips to make way for soft pants, he focused his entire body in chasing yours, and his pleasure, basking in the ultimate bliss his body was currently experiencing.

Yes. Yes. Ye—

“She likes—haah! She likes taking it from behind—ngh!” The raven haired male shot his eyes open at the sound of Hisoka’s wanton voice, the concentration he once held faltering just a bit from the sudden noise.

Despite Chrollo’s better judgement, he hauled you into the position like a mere ragdoll, deftly handling your limp body with equal amounts of roughness, and gentleness. Though, your arms violently shook, and gave out as soon as Chrollo re-entered your cunt. With your torso flush against the ivory sheets, your lower half remained in position—easier for him to drive his cock deeper; you swore you could feel him in your throat.

The redhead let out a low chuckle, eager hands messily pulling his pants down to free his hard cock; Hisoka sighed at the lack of restraint, and threw his head back, exposing the length of his neck. 

With the new position, Chrollo returned to the pace he had set earlier, heavy balls slapping against your clit from each hard thrust. Skin against skin burned like a searing blaze but god did it feel amazing, not to mention how it stimulated your sensitive bud in all the right ways.

Chrollo curled over himself to place wet open-mouthed kisses down the length of your spine, moaning low saccharine praises in between. He pushed, and pushed into your sopping cunt until the coil deep in your stomach violently snapped. With a loud moan of his name muffled against the damp sheets, your back arched as you came around Chrollo—muscles taut, and knuckles a shade of ivory while pleasure gnawed at your skin.

Hisoka unabashedly fisted at his cock, one hand focused on pleasuring himself while the other sunk into the plush of the armchair. He matched the pace of his hand to Chrollo’s hips, imagining that it was your cunt instead of his palm, albeit, your velvety walls absolutely compared to nothing. Oh well, he’ll get a taste of you one way or another.

It didn’t take long for Chrollo to follow suit, driving his hips a couple more times before completely pulling out, and blowing his entire load on your bare back. He let out a shameless moan of your name—the loudest one he’s let out. Thick, milky ribbons of Chrollo’s cum unceremoniously painted your skin white, and all he could do was stare at it in a haze while his chest heaved up, and down.

On the other hand, Hisoka gave himself a few more rough pumps before squeezing the base of his leaking cock, lustily letting out a hiss as the pleasure he’d worked so hard for slowly dissipated. He cursed in between rough pants—the hunger for a sweet release just grew tenfold after depriving himself of an orgasm.

Hisoka had something better in mind than cumming on his hand.

“I guess it’s my turn.” Strong, muscular legs slightly quivered with every step taken towards the bed, cock standing proudly against his abdomen. Chrollo only narrowed his eyes at Hisoka, clearly displeased by his sudden initiative.

The former returned a smile, “Oh, don’t get greedy now, Chrollo. I’ll give you two choices—” He held out two long digits. “Either you sit, and watch or join in on the fun.”

Never in a million years would Chrollo even think to engage in a threesome with you, and Hisoka. He didn’t know what bothered him more, the fact that you were the latter’s lover or the fact that he was on the same bed as Hisoka. Nonetheless, here he was balls deep inside your ass, completely unhindered by inhibitions. Hisoka cursed at the feel of your wet cunt, biting his lips at the lewd sound it made as your hot cum coated his cock.

The redhead laid flat on his back, cunt wrapped around him while you straddled his lap which left Chrollo to take care of your backside. Your body remained slumped against Hisoka’s—limp, and quivering as if one wrong move would have you exploding to bits. Could you really blame yourself? Both men stretched you out like it was their sole purpose, it did nothing but put your body under immense pleasure.

You were sandwiched between Hisoka, and Chrollo as though mimicking a mere fly caught in a spider’s silken web, unable to escape. And that usually meant one thing: to wait for one’s impending doom before the ruthless arachnid strikes.

An experimental thrust of their hips had you wailing in pleasure. Having not given enough time to come down from your high, you were still too sensitive—any form of sexual stimulation immediately had your body uncontrollably shaking, and hot tears lining your eyes. Hisoka cupped your jaw with both hands, lifting your face in front of his own before closing the distance; heated, and rough just how he liked it; the redhead didn’t hesitate shoving his tongue past your lips, intimately exploring the inside of your mouth with the wet muscle.

If anything, the messy kiss was enough to distract you from the sudden rough pistoning of their hips—Hisoka gleefully swallowed your wanton moans, and relished at the burning sensation of your nails scratching down his bare chest. The bed creaked under the weight of their merciless thrusts with the headboard atop Hisoka’s head repeatedly banging the wall behind it; these sounds mixed with the lewd melody the three of you produced filled all four corners of the room.

It was funny, anyone would think that a Hisoka, and Chrollo tandem would be a match made in hell; highly volatile once paired together which would result in utter chaos but this—the two moved in perfect unison as though they shared one mind, one ideal. Even only if it was for this moment that they saw one another eye to eye, a wordless union to bring you to another orgasm.

A thin, translucent string of saliva connected your lips to Hisoka’s as he pulled away for a breather, hot breaths mingling with one another as you panted in eachother's face. A sense of pride bloomed across his crimson-marked chest as he watched your lust-filled eyes roll to the back of your head—Hisoka always had a thing for your expressions during sex, it served as fuel to keep going, to keep fucking you.

You looked beautiful bouncing on their cocks, head falling forward while taking their entire length like a champ; the only thing you could really do was grip onto Hisoka’s shoulders, and moan for your dear life. Chrollo couldn’t help but fixate on the way your ass jolted with every thrust, even just the sight of his cock disappearing, and reappearing between the globes of your ass had his head spinning.

It didn’t take long for you to reach yet another orgasm, and this time, it was more intense than the previous one; hot tears ran down your damp cheeks as your body convulsed from pleasure, a drawn out moan of their names combined scratched at your throat. As though he was punched in the gut, Chrollo curled over himself as you clenched around his cock, and attached his lips on your right shoulder, biting down hard at the bare skin.

Hisoka muttered sweet nothings while stroking your hair, amusement filling his tone; you laid there drowning in pleasure while both men remained chasing their own bliss, hips stuttering. It was filthy, and soaking wet where Chrollo, and Hisoka entered you, arousal mixed with your cum messily dripping down the latter’s balls, and onto the sheets beneath.

Chrollo’s digits dug into your skin, he sheathed his cock all the way inside your ass before emptying all his cum inside; he rode out his orgasm by grinding his hips, earning a dainty gasp of his name. Chrollo violently shuddered before releasing your skin from his teeth, he lapped, and kissed at the marks, helping ease the painful sensation he left.

This left Hisoka to firmly plant his feet on the mattress, and thrust upwards which sent your body bouncing once more; short gasps turned into full blown wanton moans as his cockhead repeatedly kissed your sweet spot, bringing your body into overstimulation. Hisoka groaned loudly as the familiar feeling at the pit of his stomach returned, you could tell he was close from the way his fingers gripped your waist with such desperation.

Strings of colourful curses left your lover’s throat as he came inside you, ribbons of his thick essence filling your walls all the way to the brim ‘til it leaked out, and dripped down his balls.

Heavy pants filled the room, the smell of sinful sex hung heavy in the air. The three of you remained still for a moment to catch your breaths but the short time also allowed your minds to clear of lust, and for the whole situation to actually settle in—of what the three of you just did.

Though, it was safe to say that Chrollo wasn’t going to let you escape from his hold any time soon—as though he had you entangled in bands of swathing silk—especially after finally getting a taste of you.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @pixelcafe-network !

[gyuswhore]

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Harvest Moon

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday and you're going to make sure he has a good one. Warnings: smut, fluff, dancing in the kitchen to neil young, unprotected p in v, public-ish sex (but under a blanket), talking to neighbors while sitting on joel miller's cock, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), fingering, riding, joel has a filthy mouth, no use of y/n, not beta read.

A/N: I spent most of tonight adding 2,500 words to this barely written piece. Now it's two hours past my bedtime, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!!! This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but, this is yet another singular smut entry for my Elks babies. This was originally going to be posted as a birthday celebration chapter for that, but I really wanted to give Joel his gift on his actual birthday. Happy birthday you gorgeous old man, you. Hope you like the porn I wrote about you. ❤️🥴

Masterlist

🌕🌕🌕🌕

You’ve been looking for the CD since you learned of Joel’s love of the song. Tommy did it, he actually did it. Somehow by some miracle he found the CD. 

“Not a problem,” he gives you that same shy Miller lopsided grin. “Milt had it. Told me to tell you it’s yours to keep… said he owes you since you were his daughter’s favorite teacher ‘n all.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you say, barely being able to contain your excitement, “this is going to be amazing.”

“Of course. Should be thanking you really,” he shrugs. “It’s about time he had a good birthday.”

—

Joel said he’d be helping fix one of the greenhouses today, but you’re still scared to ruin the surprise as you unlock his door. 

“Joel?” you yell out into the quiet, seemingly empty house. 

No answer. Perfect.

Quick steps lead you to his CD player, the same one he first showed you how much he cared for you with. Now, it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. The disc tray opens and you place the CD into the system, you can’t wait to surprise him. 

—

“More coffee?” you ask, holding up the percolator.

He nods and smiles, happily sitting at the table full from the steak, potatoes, and cornbread you made him. He had insisted on sharing the meat, but you refused, happy to let him enjoy the first taste of steak in over twenty years.

Your friend Helen got her boyfriend Greg to cut a small filet of steak from the newly butchered cow. She handed it to you with a knowing smile. It’s nice to see everyone accept yours and Joel’s relationship. 

You lean over his lap, and top his coffee cup off. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in a dress? Can’t believe you got yourself all dolled up for me.” He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap. 

“Careful!” you shriek, quickly placing the carafe on the table. “Yes, you have… many times. That's why I wore it.”

“Hmph,” he hums happily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you for dinner–and everything sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin. 

“That’s not all,” you giggle as he nips at a sensitive spot under your chin. 

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re so good to me.” 

You clutch his chin tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “You deserve a happy birthday.” His big brown eyes search yours, like he’s forcing himself to believe it. “Joel, you do.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he sighs warmly.

“I love you too. Now, I have something else for you,” you slip off his lap and head towards your backpack. “It’s something small, I promise.”

You return with a bundle of fabric held behind your back. 

“Remember when you tore your favorite flannel and you tossed it in the rag bag?”

You place the flannel in his hands.

“Well, a certain girl named Ellie grabbed it for me. I mended it, reinforced the buttons, and sewed up a couple holes. It’s not perfect, but it’s fixed.”

He holds the flannel up and inspects it. “This is–wow–this–I can’t believe it.” He looks up at you, his eyes wide with adoration. “I was wearing this that first day I saw you, y’know? This is so sweet sweetheart, thank you.” 

He likes it, you thank your lucky stars. Your handsome Joel, here with you on his birthday, allowing himself to be taken care of. 

You know the story of his birthday, you’ve retold the tale to yourself every night as you anticipated this day. Afraid to upset him, afraid to cross a line, but all you’ve wanted to do is give him the world he so deserves. 

It wasn’t just you who thought of him today. It’s Tommy finding the CD. It’s Helen getting you the steak. It’s Ellie grabbing the flannel from the rag bag. He deserves all of it. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “Now, put it on. I have one more surprise.”

He slips the flannel on as you head to the living room. The CD waits in the stereo. You turn it on.

The soft guitar and brushes of a drum fills the air as you turn the volume up.  

Joel’s huge smile greets you when you walk back into the kitchen.

“You– how?” he asks, unbelieving. 

“Asked Tommy and he found it for me. Milt had his greatest hits. Now,” you reach your hand out to him, “may I have this dance birthday boy?”

He chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you into him. The two of you sway along to the music, his strong arms enveloping you as your cheek rests against his warm chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Your hands slip around his broad back, one of them trailing up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He sighs deeply before placing a tender kiss against the top of your head. 

“This is my favorite song,” he murmurs.

The sun has long since set, the singular lamp above the sink casts a warm dark amber glow across the kitchen Your shadows dance across the walls as you sway. He smells of coffee and sweet corn bread, like home and comfort. 

He starts to hum then softly sing along. His deep voice reverberates through your ear, pressed against his heart. 

“Because I’m still in love with you,  I wanna see you dance again,  Because I’m still in love with you,  On this harvest moon”

You can hear the contentment in his voice as he holds you closer. Moving in synchronicity with each other, gently stepping across the small kitchen as the harmonica solo plays. If you could stay in this moment forever you would.

You tilt your head up, and his eyes meet yours. The smile he gives lights his face. Lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes, dimple sitting deep on his cheek, mustache curving with his plush upturned lips. He serenades you with the same lyrics as before, looking deep in your eyes. 

“Because I’m still in love with you,  I wanna see you dance again,  Because I’m still in love with you,  On this harvest moon”  

His lips meet yours, thanking you with a gentle kiss. The man you love and adore, feels good on his birthday all because of you. 

The song plays on repeat, the two of you dance together, Joel gently hums and sings along as the harvest moon rises above the mountains. 

You gently pull away, unclasping his arms from around you.

“Come on birthday boy,” you say with a playful smile, “let’s go watch the stars.” 

—

You and Joel sit beneath a large plaid comforter on his porch. The early fall breeze that rolls down the mountainside leaves a chill in the air. The night sky is lit bright with the orange full moon. Most of Jackson is at the Harvest Moon Festival tonight, you can just make out the distant sounds of laughter and music flowing through the air from the main street on his porch. Ellie was especially thrilled about the teen sleepover happening at the Bison tonight, giving you both this rare moment of solitude in his backyard. She told Joel she knew he was in good hands with you for his birthday. 

And he is–or at least you’re in his good hands. 

“Oh, god,” you softly whisper into the night, you’re so tense from keeping yourself quiet. The stars are a little harder to see tonight thanks to the ambient glow of the bright moon, and yet you see stars whenever you squeeze your eyes shut while fighting the urge to moan. Joel’s deft, large thumb rubs circles against your clit while you ride two of his thick fingers. 

He’s driving you crazy like this. His large body and the blanket wrapped around you, overheating all of your senses in this chilly night. You’re completely covered, nobody would know that your legs are spread wide, one draped over his thick thigh while his hand is stuffed up your dress making you quake as he finger fucks you.

“Easy now, easy now,” he says nuzzling against your neck, his large nose charting a course across the sensitive skin. “Gotta remember where we are. You're the sweet, innocent teacher 'n librarian here. Lotta people look up to you, can’t have them knowin’ what my girl really likes when she’s with me.” Your hips slow their movement, he makes up for it by pumping you harder. “See, I can help, just gotta let me know you want it baby.” 

“Want to take–neyugh–care of you,” struggles out of your mouth. 

“You’re taking care of me right now, sweetheart, touching you is my favorite thing to do.” 

“Want to go inside… w-want to–want–to, want to feel you in my mouth,” you grip the straining bulge underneath the fly of his jeans. 

“Not yet,” he sighs deeply when you squeeze harder. “Like seeing your skin glow in the moonlight. What you’re doin’ now is enough, want to enjoy my night with you.”

Your hold tightens around his cock as you fight harder to suppress the urge to scream into the night. His fingers angle up hitting your most sensitive spot and you feel like you could explode. You’ll be the fireworks to celebrate Joel’s birthday. A whimper is fought by biting your lip, it’s so hard to not scream. His brown eyes look almost black in the low light as he watches you struggle and blink rapidly. 

“Shh baby, you’re doing so good, bein’ so quiet, don’t ruin it now. If anybody was out right now they could walk right on by and they’d have no idea what I’m doing to you under here.”

You’ve never done anything like this, so out in the open. Jackson is a peaceful town full of law abiding citizens, and right now you’re sitting on the back of the porch of Joel’s house getting felt up by him. 

“Joel… I–I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me baby.” His hot breath hits your lips before sealing his mouth against yours. Your cunt spasms against his thick fingers, you feel set alight by your orgasm, overheated and burning. Maybe you’re glowing just as bright as the moon. His tongue dances with yours, swallowing all of your gasps and cries. You’re sure at this point, anybody that walked by would know exactly what was happening between the two of you. You don’t care, all you want is to feel Joel’s cock inside you.

“Want you, Joel, want you so bad,” you mew as his fingers rub against your sensitive folds. 

“Okay baby, okay.” His fingers slip from your warmth before he brings his soaked digits to his lips. His eyes flutter shut when he tastes you. 

“Sweeter than birthday cake,” he declares before raising his hips and pulling his jeans down with a grunt. “Come here. Come sit on me.”

Your legs spread wide as you straddle his large lap with your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. He grips himself and moves the half hard heft of his cock against your soaked core, swirling his tip back and forth across your clit. 

“Tell me you want my cock,” he whispers against your neck, licking a line up to your ear. “Tell me baby.”

“I-I want your cock–I need your cock Joel,” you beg. 

“I know you do darling,” he chuckles deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.

The sounds of the festival go silent and the bright orange moon fades as you slowly sink down on his cock. Taking all of him, thick and throbbing into your tight cunt. 

“That’s my good girl,” he grits. “Your sweet pussy is taking me so well, isn’t she?”

Clutching your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, you try to fight the moan his words bring up.

“Oh, you must like that. You’re squeezin’ me so hard sweetheart.” 

You set a pace, riding him gently under the moonlight, his fingers gripping your hips tight. 

His hot breaths hit the back of your neck as your back molds even tighter to his front. His hand snakes down to rub your clit, small circles making your body meld even more against him.. The rhythm of his fingers and cock spearing you pulls another orgasm down from the ethers of space. Shivering, sweating, and stuttering Joel’s name, you’re trying to be good for him, trying to not scream into the night. 

“That’s my girl, grippin’ my cock so good, cummin’ all over me. Getting yourself nice and slippery so I can fuck you real good, huh?” 

“Mmf,” is the only response you can muster. Your cunt flutters around him, and he doesn’t relent, slowly fucking into you while his finger pulses against your clit. 

The sound of two people conversing approaches. Your movements come to a halt, Joel stays still, his finger still resting against your sensitive bundle of nerves and his cock sitting deep inside you. Hank and Billie, the nice couple that lives three houses down from Joel, walk past the porch. Both look over and wave a greeting. Fuck.

“Beautiful moon, isn’t it?” Hank says with a smile. 

“Quite.” Joel responds. The rumble of his loud voice radiates through you.  

“You guys get any barbecue tonight?” Hank asks. “It was really go–”

“We stayed in,” Joel gruffly responds. He subtly knocks his hips into you causing a wave of sensation to hit against your already cock-drunk pussy.

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale.  

“Oh, well, there will probably be leftovers tomorrow,” Billie offers. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you the good stuff.”

“Thanks Billie,” you breathlessly reply, wishing on every star you’ve seen behind your eyelids, they’ll leave. “We appreciate it.”

“Best be getting home,” Hank says, grabbing Billie’s hand. “We both had a bit too much to drink!” 

Oh thank god.

“Enjoy your night,” Joel says plainly as he starts to slowly rock into you once they turn away. 

To the eyes of your neighbors, you and Joel just look like a normal couple enjoying the night sky cuddled together under a blanket… little do they know he’s filling you with his thick cock under the shield. 

“That was close,” he whispers against your ear before nipping it. 

Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he fucks into you harder. 

“Guess we shouldn’t take our time, don’t want to get caught, now do we?” he asks. 

“We can just–nyuh–go inside,” you plead, wanting to be able to moan and scream Joel’s name in the comfort of his home. 

“Gimme one more baby, gimme one more,” he grunts against your neck. “And then I’ll take you into my home and fuck you.”

His hips pound against your body, his thrusts bucking into your core harder. “That’s it baby, you really want me to take you in and lay you down ‘n fuck you, don’t you?” 

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your stomach tightening and thighs trembling as the universe splinters around you. Your orgasm rockets through your body. Color turns to black and white, noise falls silent. All that exists is Joel Miller and his big cock shattering you into a million pieces like your own personal big bang on the back of his porch. 

“Good girl,” he groans, “let’s take this party inside.”

—

The plaid comforter is laid out on the kitchen floor. Your wobbly legs move your still blissed-out body to Joel’s stereo, starting “Harvest Moon” on repeat all over again. 

You lean against the kitchen entrance, admiring Joel as he rests atop the blanket, naked and supporting himself on his elbows. No man over fifty should ever look as good as him. Broad shoulders frame his strong arms, his chest has a smattering of dark hair that trails down to the slight bulge of his stomach. His cock rests in between his legs, still hard and shining with your slick. He’s so gorgeous, and he’s all yours. 

“Come here sweetheart,” his voice is gruffer. “Lay down next to me.”

His dick twitches as you walk to the blanket and settle beside him. 

He moves over you, covering you with his warmth as he engulfs himself in your slick heat. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing him to take more. 

“Joel,” you moan. The angle allows his cock to push farther in and your walls to tighten harder against him. 

“Ooh, you’re so fucking wet, you hear that?” he asks incredulously. The squelch of your pussy soundtracks along to the song quietly playing in the background. “Sounds so fucking good baby.” 

He gasps when buries himself to the hilt, soaking the curly hairs around the base of him with your wet.

Your body trembles as your hips meet his, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace. 

He takes no time to own you now behind the walls of his home. Your hands clutch at his wide back, sobs and screams of his name echoing out into the air as Neil Young softly sings in the background. 

You’re so full of him. His body surrounding you, his lips against yours, his cock pounding into your accepting cunt, his name chanting out of your mouth. 

“You want it baby?” he growls against your neck, his cock pumping in and out of your hole at a speed no man over fifty should be able to ever reach. “You want my cum?” 

“C-cum Joel,” you cry, tears sprouting from your eyes as your fourth orgasm launches through you. 

He gasps your name, pulling out of your tremorous pussy and shooting thick white ropes of cum across your pussy and stomach. 

His sweat is slick against your overheated body, you’re a mess of sweat, orgasm, and love. 

He kisses you, his tongue licking against yours before he rolls off you. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Fuck,” he pants, stretching his limbs out. “Gonna feel this tomorrow.” 

“Well, you are another year older, old man,” you tease, curling up next to him. 

“Yeah,” he turns his head to look at you. “I guess I am,” he sighs. “Thank you for–my birthday and–all of this. I can never put into words how much it all means to me.” 

“So I guess you’re still in love with me?” you tease.

“Always. Especially on this harvest moon,” he returns your smile. 

---

Tagging a couple people who had asked about this piece earlier this month: @almostfoxglove, @sawymredfox, @burntheedges, and @littlemisspascal 🩷🌝

[omgeto]

☆ R U GONNA STAY THE NIGHT? — fratboy!GETO SUGURU

summary:geto suguru, 'top dog' on campus, is used to ploughing through all the ditzy little freshmen without any concern for their feelings. but now his biggest challenge, is you, and it's not getting you in his bed, its getting you to stay in it.

wc: 4k (look guys I did it)

cw: afab!reader, all types of fucking, masturbation, you ride his dick, you ride his face, he gives you like two spanks, he's kinda whiny but then at the same time not. you both think you're the boss of this situationship and you are both wrong. MDNI slight angst if you squint, or maybe angst angst idk

an: first fic in 10 days, is this what you call a comeback? idk but I hope you enjoy whatever this is I TRIED OKAY I TRIED! Also thanks bae @kazushawty for betaing some and bullying me in our chats

sleeping with a frat bro wasn’t on your to do list during your freshman year, but there is something about geto suguru that you just can’t shake. you thought that you were one of many, after hearing all the rumours about him that spread throughout campus and that didn’t phase you as long as he could get you off, you didn’t care what else he did. but little did you know he is all about you and he is finally gonna let that be known tonight.

"excuse me," a whisper brushes against your ear, a deep, low hum that sends shivers down your spine. hands press lightly on your waist, shifting you ever so slightly. you glance over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing when you realise there is more than enough room for the person to pass. it's geto suguru, and you shoot him a withering glare.

"what's the problem?" he asks, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he observes the hard look you're giving him. but instead of answering, you simply turn away, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

geto, undeterred by your cold response, takes a step closer. his presence is magnetic, and you can feel the heat of his body inches from yours. the music pulses around you, the crowd dancing and laughing, but all you can focus on is him.

“y’know me” he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, and his voice drops to a seductive murmur. "can’t resist the opportunity to get a little closer to you."

“oh fuck off geto,” you hiss, but your words had no real bite, you move your elbow to try and deter him but his stance remains fixed behind you.

“you’re a hard woman to please,” he sighs, with mock sadness, “but as frat president i can’t have one of my party guest having a bad time at one of my parties can i?”

“maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough,” you retort quickly, finally turning around to face him head on, a teasing smirk appearing on your face, “what would you know about pleasing me?”

“i think we both know what i know about pleasing you,” he offers his hand out, “c’mon let me show you a good time.” you hesitate, seeing the spark in his eyes and he puts his hand out further, urging you to take it. you close your eyes swiftly, taking a deep breath before letting him drag you into the crowd of people.

geto hand remains a reassuring hold as he drags you through the sea of intoxicated dancers. he pulls you into him, his dick already bricked up as brings it to your ass, your turn your head and raise your eyebrow, and he flashes a smile in return his hands sliding down to hold your hips as he starts to gyrate against you. you quickly match his pace, throwing back your ass, your hips swaying in time with geto and the music.

he places his hand at the small of your back, forcing you to bend slightly, as he widens his stance and forces his body into your further. your mouth parts, at the contact, and you smile at the feeling — geto suguru actually has rhythm. he’s quick to pull you up, peppering light kisses against your face as he grinds into you.

his arm hooks around your neck in a gentle but firm hold, as he bends down to your ear, his lips whispering words only meant for you, as he continues to rub his clothed dick in the crook of your ass. geto manoeuvres his hands up and down your body, his fingers teasingly toying with your tits, as he explores all you, right on the dance floor.

you could feel the heat between your legs grow, so you pull away from geto turning around to face him, his hands coming down to hold you close to him as if he was afraid you'd run away. “not bad huh?” he asks, knowing that you feel the exact same as he does, you both didn’t even notice all the eyes on you, as the crowd of partygoers just witnessed you almost fuck on the dance floor.

before you could even respond, you could feel the wind being knocked out of you as a broad chest collides right into you. geto keeps you upright, so you don’t fall on your ass and places you behind him as he steps to the person responsible for almost knocking you over. 

as the fog of the moment clears, you see the cause of the commotion—gojo satoru, geto's best friend, is in a blissful state of drunkenness, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"heeeeyy, suguru," gojo greets loudly, his bleary eyes darting between the two of you. "is this you, yeah?" his words slur slightly, but it's clear he's trying to figure out the situation. geto doesn't respond verbally, but the subtle smirk on his face and the bashful look on yours speak volumes. "you know what we could do to make this night greater," gojo announces with an exaggerated flourish.

geto sighs, on a usual day he’s all up for entertaining his friend but tonight all he wants to do is entertain you. “what is it satoru?”

“shots!” he cheers, looking around the room to be completely ignored, in too much of a drunken state to even notice, “c’mon sugu, you love shots, you can even bring this pretty little thing you’ve got with you.” he finishes, gojo’s eyes linger on you a little too long as he sizes you up, his bottom lip pulling into his teeth and all you could do is raise your eyebrows up at him, puzzled.

“bro,” geto commands, and gojo’s eyes snap to his friends as he raises his hand in mock surrender, “just take us to the fucking shots.” the subtle tension between the two guys didn't go unnoticed by you, but you brush it off, chalking it up to frat boys being frat boys. 

it was soon forgotten anyways, with you sprawled across a table of the frat house, drunken partygoers jeering at you as your shirt is half pulled up just stopping at your breast and gojo is cheering as he’s sprinkles salt on you and lines your stomach with shots.

“care to do the honours,” gojo taunts geto as he finishes pouring the final shot. geto sends a glare his way ignoring him as he makes his way over to you, giving you a long stripe of his tongue down your stomach, before quickly downing all the shots on your stomach, his eyes stuck on you. gojo offers him a lime, which he snatches straight out of his hands. gojo tuts, shaking his head, “someones touchy.” and just to add fuel to the fire, gojo has his own lick at your stomach, more slower and sensual then geto’s was, and he pours himself a shot, giving you a wink as he drinks it.

“what the fuck man?” geto interrogates, stepping to his friend, slightly wobbling as the shots he just backed in swift succession, hit him quickly.

“what’s wrong suguru?” gojo teases with a playful grin, he wasn’t dumb he knew who you were before he even saw you, geto talks about you all the time. so when gojo finally saw you with him, with geto still downplaying how he hard he actually fucks with you, he couldn’t help but fuck with his friend a bit, “you jealous?”

“don’t even start with me ‘toru,” geto warns, and you begin to sit up with an eye roll, you couldn’t deny you were a bit tipsy, but no amount of alcohol could make you bear to see this lame exchange of fray boy bravado. 

“oh whats your issue man,” gojo brushes him off, going to pour himself another drink, but geto is hot on his tails. “bro we literally always share the hot freshmen, what makes her any different.”

“because she just is,” geto snaps, in an attempt of a hush tone but you hear him loud and clear.

“i think i’m going to go,” you say out loud, and geto hears you pausing, slightly panicked. forgetting all about gojo his focus back onto you.

“no no, you don’t have to leave, we were having a good time right?” he stammers, rushing to persuade you stay. you couldn’t deny that you were having a good time, geto suguru is actually fun to be around, and the way he was staring at you, begging for you just stay with him, hits you right in your core. he pulls you close to him as he murmurs to you, “i know you felt what i felt when we were dancing, just give me a chance and like i said earlier i could really show you a good time. if you let me.”

geto just wanted to get you alone, he could see that the heavy noise of the club was clearly not your vibe, but he couldn’t let you leave just yet. he offers out his hand just like he did at the start of the party, but this time you didn’t hesitate to take it. letting him cart you off upstairs as you both ignore that wolf whistles coming from gojo, “you better get some suguru, go and get some for the both of us!”

when you get up into geto’s room, you try to disregard the slew of people strung out in different rooms across the house. but geto was confident, he had no reason not to be with you in his arms, wanting him just as badly as he wants you.

“c’mere,” he beckons you, as he sits down, patting down his thigh. you happily skip over to him, perching yourself right on his thigh, your arms hooking around his neck, your hands clasping together, locking him in. you face inches closer to his, your lips part ready to taste him but he halts you, smirking as he says “you're cute, y’know that right?”

“how so?” you ask, entertaining him with an eye roll.

“you always sit in class with me, trying to act all bothered by my presence,” he comments, “but turns out all it takes is for you to come to one of my parties, and for you to dance with me, to get you cumming in my lap… literally.”

“are we gonna fuck?” you say bluntly, catching him off guard, “or are you gonna continue to talk nonsense.” even though he wasn’t talking nonsense, he was right, tonight really did change your perspective on geto. but you weren’t dumb he was the president of the frat, and his best friend gojo’s comments earlier only further cemented the type of people frat guys are.

you press your lips against his before he has a chance to respond, your tongue darting in his mouth as he moulds into you. one of his hands works its way down your body whilst the other stays caressing your face. you groan against him, driving yourself against his thigh, your clothed cunt, already dripping just from the friction alone. 

“you getting off on my thigh yeah?” he teases between kisses, and you nod, desperately pushing yourself into him. he hikes you up further, his lips still moving in tandem with yours, and he spreads you into lap so you could properly straddle him. you both had quick movements, both of you are needy and wanting of the other. geto’s hands slide down your back and keep your ass in a firm hold as you begin to rock against him.

geto pulls away from you, his lips already plump from the way you’ve been gnawing at them. you pout at the removal but he laughs, “patience, princess.” but you ignore him your hands darting into his pants, ready to free his dick and land it, but he places his hand on your wrist, his eyebrows raising in warning, “what did i just say?”

“to take out your dick and sit on it right?” you shrug coyly, chuckling at your joke, and he smiles, but the warning in his eyes doesn’t leave.

“strip,” he commands, the single word having you folding like a chair, as you fling off your clothes leaving you in your underwear. he pulls you by the waistband of you panties, ripping them off you in one swift motion, biting his lip as he’s met with your wet pussy. “she’s so pretty,” he comments, flicking at your clit and as he slides his finger down your slit, just about to enter he pauses, putting his finger in his mouth instead of in you. he swirls it around his tongue, “sweet.”

“suguru,” you whine, at his teasing, “this isn’t funny.”

“play with yourself,” he says, disregarding whatever you were saying.

“what happened to you giving me a good time,” you argue.

“c’mon show me how bad you want it,” he persuades with a grin, leaning back, waiting for you to put on a show for him, “i’ll make it worth your while.”

despite everything, you could just never tell geto, no. it’s the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, how he carries himself. with how he is just leaning back in his bed, his eyes low in anticipation as he waits for you to pleasure yourself for him, exciting you to do whatever he wants.

your hand works its way down to your pussy, your thumb landing on your clit rubbing against it as your finger part your sobbing cunt, letting geto see how wet you really are for him. “f-fuck,” you moan out, as you push your fingers inside of you, your eyes clenching shut at the contact.

“oi,” geto calls out to you, your eyes opening and landing on him, “keep your eyes on me. okay?” and you nod, as you quicken your pace, watching as geto palms his dick at your performance.

“this is boring,” you complain as you continue to rub at your pussy, trying your best to reach your climax on your own, “need your fingers, need your di—”

“keep going,” he orders, smirking, he could tell by the way your stance weakens and your legs tremble, that you were close. you were predictable and even though you were hungry for his dick, he knew you’d be able to cum with just your fingers and his eyes on you. call him cocky, but the influence he had over you was unmatched.

you roll your eyes at him, but you listen, continuing to finger yourself as he told you. your mouth parts, and you exhale feeling yourself about to cum, you push your digits in you harder, and your eyes stay fixated on geto and he shrugs his shoulders letting you do as you please—for once. you moan loudly as you cum all over your fingers, releasing hard as you spill out all down your thighs.

“see wasn’t so hard was it?” he taunts, pulling out his dick that has been hard from the moment he saw you at the party. he gives it a few strokes, pre cum oozing from the tip and you hungrily pounce on him, your pussy still dripping with your cum as you hover over his dick. you pause before sliding down on him, hissing at the feeling of you stretching you wide. “fuck man,” he groans out as he feels you clench over him, “your shit’s so tight.”

you bounce up and down on him, as he thrusts up into you, his hips hitting yours in a hard flurry of repeated connections. you press your hands flat on his chest, as his hands stay cupping your ass, keeping you upright as he drills into you.

his pace is unmatched, as you try and keep up, grinding your pussy down on him, desperate to have him stuff you up even more. “sugu ‘ts too much, f-fuck you’re relentless.”

“c-cant help it,” he stammers, still maintaining his merciless strokes, his dick twitching inside of you, “your pussy is just too good, or should i say my pussy,” he finishes with a wink. 

“y-your pussy?” you retort, laughing at his seriousness.

“yeah it’s mine right?” he interrogates, sending a slap to your ass to prompt further confirmation, “tell me it’s mine.” you don’t respond, a teasing smile spreading across your face, as you stare down at him, still riding his dick. but geto pauses, halting your movements and he slightly eases you up off of his dick, “what was that?” he prompts.

“it’s yours,” you give in quickly, not even bothering to entertain it any further with how needy you are to cum, “of course it's yours.” satisfied, geto charges his dick back into you with no warning, and you immediately go back to pushing your ass down on him, spreading your legs wider to straddle him more, taking him in deeper.

“t-that’s all i needed to hear,” he stutters, feeling himself about to cum, so he gives you a few sloppy thrusts before easing you off of him, cumming all over your stomach. you're quick to follow, your cum spraying his sheets, as you slump over him, dripping down on his body. “i made sure to not cum in you this time, i know how angsty you get over that shi.”

“oh how gentlemanly of you,” you deadpan, “all gives love a stomach covered in salt and semen.”

“well what would you prefer? your pussy filled with my cum,” he taunts, smirking as you still, “i know i would.” you didn’t answer pulling your sticky body away from his, as you come down off of your high.

“are you gonna stay the night?” geto asks with a grin it was like clockwork, everytime you finish fucking he’d always ask the same question, never getting bored when you mutter the same tired words.

“you know i don’t sleep in frat houses suguru.”

he shrugs casually, propping himself up on his elbows and admiring your naked figure. "you fuck in them though," he remarks, as if that justified everything, "so what's the difference?"

rolling your eyes, as you begin to do the laborious task of trying to locate your underwear—geto always had the habit of throwing them across the room. "the difference is," you pause, looking over your shoulder at him, "I can wake up tomorrow in my own bed, feeling just a little less gross for even fucking you in the first place."

a mock expression of hurt crosses his face as he crawls up behind you on the bed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "oh, how you wound me, princess," he coos, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "just stay."

“no, i shouldn’t” you argue, letting out an exhale as his lips attach to your collarbone, sucking against your skin, pulling and nipping at it with his teeth. 

you try to distract yourself by putting on your bra but geto is quick to fling it off you, his mouth trailing down to your tits peppering kisses all over your nipples, murmuring “stay” between each kiss. 

he takes your boob into his mouth, sucking on its flesh as his other hand toys with the other, massaging your nipples with just enough roughness to have you writhing in his palms. your back arches involuntarily, your tits pushing further into his touch, aching to feel him further, “see,” he smirks as he toys with you, “you do wanna stay.”

“i won’t, if you keep talking” you warn, gritting your teeth as he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “now c’mere, convince me on why i should stay,” you lift his head off your tits with your fingers, eyeing him down as he stares back at you with pure lust in his eyes. you press a kiss to his lips before steering his head down towards your pussy.

“since when do you run things?” he doesn’t budge, his eyebrows slightly raise as he chuckles.

“you’re the one that wants me to stay, no?” you counter, your eyes locked with his.

“well what i want is for you to come sit on my face and my head can stay sandwiched between your thighs, how about that?” his grin widens as your mouth parts, speechless. he tugs you by the arm close to the head of the bed, you climb up his body your pussy still wet from he fucked you before, leaking out your juices all over his chest. “so hop on girl, a man’s gotta eat,” he mutters impatiently, smacking your ass to urge you onto his lips.

he takes you in hungrily, his mouth enclosing on your pussy with such greed that he is practically drowning in your scent. he laps at your cunt, his tongue giving such long, deep strokes which have your hands pressing against the walls, grinding down on his face. 

geto grips and claws at your ass, he grins, his nose burying into your pussy as your thighs clench tighter around his head. “s-sshit suguru,” your hands slap against the wall as you squeal out, trying to grasp at something to keep you afloat, as the way geto is working your pussy and how his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, has you buckling over about to topple off of him. 

he hums against your pussy, the vibrations jolting right through you, having you moan even louder. his tongue darts against your clit, swirling at it vigorously, nipping at it lightly with his teeth. 

“sugu i—” you pant, trying to ease off of him, the pleasure getting too much for you, but his hands stroke both your thighs keeping them in place. “bout to cum sugu.”

you could hear him mumble something, you didn’t care what, but the two taps he gave to your thigh let you know you could release all over him. you cry out as you cum, feeling yourself spill out all over his face. geto continues to eat you up, drinking in everything he can take, his chin getting covered by what he couldn’t swallow.

 “you are way too good at that.” you gasp as you slowly come up off his face, your breathing still laboured.

“only the best for you princess,” he jests with his eyes half open, a blissful smile on his lips as his tongue swipes at the remains of you left on his face.

“yeah me and all the other freshmen you fuck,” you mutter, to yourself but he heard you loud and clear.

“what was that?” he urges, wanting you to repeat your claims. before you started fucking geto, you knew he was and what he was about and technically you didn’t care, you only wanted him for his mouth game—which proved to be very useful. but when he tries to sweet talk you you couldn’t help but be reminded of what kind of guy he is.

“i think you heard me,” you shrug, “i’m saying it to insult you or anything, i'm just telling the truth. you like to fuck everbody and everything.”

“wait? is this why you won’t stay the night?” he says, sitting up, staring you down. 

“you must be only a pretty face, if you thought otherwise,” you laugh at his shock.

“no it’s just i think its crazy that you just won’t stay,” he complains, glaring at you as you put back on your clothes, “we could get to know each other properly.”

“like we agreed when we first started messing around,” you cringe, pitying the pouty look on his face. “let’s just… keep this casual”

“but that was ages ago,” he tries to reason, “some may say you’re just using me for sex.”

“suguru we use each other for sex,” you respond quickly, you step towards him pressing a peck on his pouty lips, with a smirk on your face as you see his lips chasing yours as you pull away, “well i'm gonna go now, i’m sure i’ll see you at one of your many lame parties you and your people always throw. it’s been fun as always” geto raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, blowing out a hard breath, as he watches you strut out of his bedroom.

“she’ll stay the night eventually.” he murmurs to himself, maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a guy can dream.

AN: she’s only gone and done it. but yeah how was it guys 🥺? There’s only two lines in this whole fic that I actually thought “damn I cooked here” if you guess the lines you win a reward. ALSO IDK WHY I WAS DROPPING HINTS AT SOME GOJO ON SOME MR STEAL UR GIRL TYPE SHIT but I just went with it. But geto is sooo sweet HE JUST WANTS U TO STAY and you don’t even fuckinnn stay 😭😭 looool aren’t u mean. Technically I wrote the fic backwards it was meant to start with the “r u gonna stay the night” AND then gojo and geto would have a a conversation about you AND the it would end w the party and u tucking but I wanted to keep if one continuous flow and ANYWAYS this an is becoming a diary entry so LMK UR THOUGHTS PLEASE CAUSE THIS HAD ME STRETCHED