#i accidentally spent way too long on this
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Chan| Misunderstanding
In which you are hurt by something Chan said.
You were on your way to Chan’s studio, with a cutely wrapped pack lunch and note. You knew your boyfriend had the tendency to overwork and skip meals; so you wanted to make sure that he was eating at least one fulfilling meal a day.
Just as you were about to knock on the door you heard the guys laughing. You smiled and realized Chan must be working with all of them at the moment. It was so cute to you how he took all of them in as his kids.
You raised your hand to knock again as you heard Jeongin speak up.
“Channie Hyung, when is Noona coming today?”
You heard a shuffling of feet and a sound come closer to the door. The squeaking of styrofoam made you flinch a little as you could assume someone was getting water from the bubbler.
“I don’t know.” You tensed as you realized it was Chan by the bubbler. “She probably will at the worst time.” He said, chuckling and clapping his hands once. His voice was oddly light for something so hurtful. “But we’re gonna at least get Seungmin’s part down before she comes, because she’ll probably stick around for a while.” You can hear him walking away from the door.
“Do you not like your girlfriend coming around hyung?” You hear Jeongin say jokingly, a little nervous laugh in his voice.
Before you can even hear a response you quickly make your way to the exit.
As you were walking you walked past Sana.
“Y/N!” She quickly embraces you and looks at you with a warm smile. “How is my favorite person doing?” Sana had actually been the one to introduce you to Chan, after you had met her and hit it off in a chance meeting.
You looked up and gave Sana a small smile, and her face immediately fell.
“What did that Pabo do? Do I have to beat him up? ‘Accidentally’ leak his latest comeback in a way that is bad?” She said seriously, squishing your cheeks, and stroking your hair like a comforting big sister.
You sniffed and shook your head. “It’s nothing…can you not tell him I was here Eonni?” You say quietly. She nods as Tzuyu walks up and smiles at you.
“Hi, Y/N!” You smile at her and wave as you make your way back to your car.
As you drive you grip the steering wheel tightly and bite your lip.
You blink back a few tears and you make your way to your apartment.
You place the food you made for Chan in the back of your fridge, hiding the cute little ribboned package with a few jars of various things, not wishing to look at it, but not having the heart to throw away the food you spent so long preparing.
You felt too sad to even clean up the dishes you had used to make, figuring you’d go sleep off your sadness for a bit and clean up when you were in a better headspace.
(x)
You felt the bed shift beside you and familiar toned arms wrap around you. Chan’s scent engulfed you, something oceany mixed with linens and the slight hint of sweat from his practice. This scent was something you loved, something you found yourself thinking of when you thought of home.
“I used your emergency key. You didn’t answer any of my texts, so I came over to check on you.”
You look at the clock.
11:04 p.m.
You had been asleep for a while.
“Are you sick baby?” He hummed quietly, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder.
“Sick?” You said hoarsely.
Chan’s eyes opened in concern as he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.
“You sound sick baby, is everything okay?” He said getting up and rustling through the drawers by your bedside, looking for the thermometer he had placed there.
“I’m…I’m not sick.” You say quietly, trying to clear your throat. You had been crying a lot and ended up irritating your throat so much from your choked sobs it had become hoarse.
“Your voice sounds…nasally and hoarse.” He mumbles, still searching. “And you didn’t come to the studio, so it figures you must be sick.” He sighs and places his hands on his hips. “I think I left an extra thermometer for you down stairs I’ll be right back baby-” You look down as he places a chaste kiss on your forehead and makes his way down stairs, his feet making a staccato rhythm on the staircase.
(x)
Once Chan had found where he placed the thermometer and cold and flu tablets he opened your fridge to find something sweet for you to use as a chaser for the cold medicine you hated the taste of oh so much.
“I think I brought her a slice of cake the other day…” He mumbled looking through the fridge. He moved some things out of the way - perhaps he was overlooking something?
After moving a pickle jar he saw something with a cute little red ribbon.
He grabbed it and unwrapped it.
“Y/N likes those little pastry shops, they always have cute packaging…” He trailed off looking a little confused as he saw a little envelope sealed shut with a pineapple sticker.
It was placed on top of a few containers.
“Did someone make her a care package?” Chan wondered as he opened up the containers, but quickly realized that wasn’t it at all.
You had always loved making Mexican food for Chan, since it was something you were good at and he loved. He just didn’t get to eat it much because any of the places he could find that sold it always made things too spicy for him. You made it perfectly suited to his tastes.
A small breath left his lips as he held the envelope in his hands and carefully peeled the sticker off in a way to keep everything intact.
He smiled as he read your little note to him, and chuckled at the part where you told him to tell Han to not steal your carne asada this time and if he wanted it that he would make you some when you were able to get to the store.
He gave a contented sigh as he carefully started to prepare things to be warmed up.
He contemplated the time he should take to warm things up.
“It must be left over from a day or two since she was sick today…” He mumbled messing with the settings, until he turned towards the sink to wash his hands and noticed the pile of dishes sitting there.
A pile that was very obviously used recently. He looked over in the trash can and saw the packaging of all the ingredients you used.
He started to click things together and then thought back to the odd interaction that had happened earlier.
~~~~
“Hyung, I’m hungry ~” Han whined as Chan and him made their way towards another room.
“We can get something to eat after we finish-”
“Can’t I just eat some of what Noona brought you?” He asked, perking up a bit. “She always makes the best food.”
Chan hmmed in agreement. “She hasn’t brought anything today.”
“But its almost dinner time. She always brings-”
Han bows politely to Sana as she walks past. She stops and turns back to them.
“Ya- Chan.” He had turned around and saw his friend growing. “Stop being such a pabo and apologize quickly.” She said turning away and walking off.
Han looked at him and at Sana’s retreating figure.
“What did you do hyung?” He whispered quietly.
Cham furrowed his brows, because he was also at a loss.
~~~~
He stood in front of your bedroom door, with the plate of food in his hand, but the medicine was left on the counter.
Because you weren’t sick.
You were sad.
“Baby?” He said quietly as he walked into your room. You were sitting up in your bed scrolling through the shows on your TV, trying to find something to watch.
You looked up as Chan set the plate of food down and you swallowed as you realized he had found it.
You didn’t say anything as he sat down on your bed with you and pulled you into his lap, putting his head in your shoulder and just holding you.
You couldn’t help but feel your lip tremble as you started to cry quietly.
“Baby, shhh, its okay.” He said stroking your hair. “You heard what I said in the studio?”
You nodded and Chan looked at you and gently help your face.
“You didn’t hear all of it though.” He sighs quietly, flattening your unruly hair. “That much is clear.”
You sniffed and wiped at your nose with the sleeve of your sweater and continued to stroke your hair.
“If I remember correctly, the conversation went something along the lines of you coming at the worst time and staying a while right?” He looked up at the ceiling and hmms in thought. “And then I remember Jeongin asking me if I didn’t like it when my girlfriend came to the studio. And I said no.”
You looked up at him, your lips trembling more now.
“I said No- I actually love it when she comes to the studios. She always comes at the worst times. When I’m feeling unmotivated, or hitting a wall with lyrics or the arrangement. But she comes, and she charges me up with motivation and inspiration when she stays a while. She fills up my battery life.��
You looked at him, and could tell he wasn't just saying things to make you feel better. There was truth in everything he just said.
“Baby I could never get tired of you. You take care of me so well,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. “Besides, if I did Sana would never let me live it down. And to be honest, she becomes really scary when it comes to you." He says shuddering and nuzzling his head into you.
You giggle and nuzzle back into him.
“Now eat,” He says, grabbing the remote from you and putting on a random drama. It wasn’t like he would be paying much attention to it anyways, he just wanted to look at his girlfriend who he hadn't seen all day.
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Congratz for the milestone!! Your event is soo cute btw! If you dont mind i am applying with tsukki, i am organized and flexible* Idk if i did it right but i hope you enjoy writing it!
thank you very much!! you're hired, lovely individual <3 *I only intended for suggestive to be used in coworker scenarios and it didn't fit the idea I had, so please excuse the lack of suggestiveness:)
Pressure point
Tsukishima is your friend and accidentally confesses, for the now hiring! event
word count; 618 – f!reader
Many young adults got a part-time job next to their university studies, and a lesser part of them enjoyed said jobs. You, however, had figured out a way to maximise your profit.
Not only that, but your best friend, Tsukishima Kei, usually spent the evenings you worked in the cafe, studying by the table closest to the cashier so you could throw subtle insults at each other whenever the line cleared up. In your eyes, it couldn’t get any better.
Tsukishima might seem calm, but he had just about had it, watching you flirt with these pathetic men who thought they genuinely caught your attention.
At first, he found it amusing how you coaxed them into throwing whatever change might be found at the bottom of their backpacks into your tip jar. Your brain was one of your many attractive qualities that made him stick around for so long and develop some feelings along the way.
Unfortunately, it bothered him as he listened to how you could flirt so effortlessly. He was jealous of how they got to bask in your, albeit fake, attention for even a few seconds. It had cost him a couple of study hours, where he would harshly press his pen into the same spot on his paper, trying to shut out the sound of your giggles.
As you were about to lock the door for the day, Tsukki was already standing behind you with his bag hiked up on his shoulder. “You don’t want to wait around today? I won’t take that long,” you queried, slight furrow between your brows.
“I’m not feeling well,” he said, trying not to sound too cold, but he couldn’t help it.
You tilted your head, letting out a small discontent sound. “Then why did you stay for so long?” you asked, and Tsukki looked away from your face.
He mumbled something under his breath and you huffed, locking the door before turning to him with your hands on your hips.
“What was that?”
“How will you flirt when you actually like someone? When you’re not just pretending for some cheap tips?” he asked, hiding his feelings behind a dry laugh.
“Who said I don’t like them?” you challenged, confusion diffusing after Tsukki’s resolve unravelled.
“Oh stop it, there’s no way you’re that tasteless,” he argued, looking like the thought left a nasty taste on his tongue.
You pursed your lips, nodding your head as you decided to switch from your first thought to a more tactical response. “I suppose if I did like someone, I would ask him to hang out with me while I’m at work. Annoy him when I can. Push up his glasses when he’s being a smart-ass,” you insisted, emphasising by lifting your pointer finger to push his glasses up his nose bridge, something you often did to annoy him.
Tsukishima readjusted his glasses and stared at you blankly for a second. He didn’t know what came over him, and he’d forever deny it to anyone you tried to tell the story to, but he put one hand on each of your cheeks and pulled you in for an awkward touch of lips one might call a kiss.
When his hands left your cheeks and he pulled away, you stared at him in amused shock. “Tsukki!”
“I’ll cover the tips with whatever food you want, just stop flirting with anyone else,” he demanded with a frown, while his eyes were flitting between your eyes and your lips.
“Are you asking me out?” He let out a flustered sound, about to turn around and pretend like nothing happened when you got on the tips of your toes to give him another, slightly better kiss.
masterlist
#now hiring! event#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#haikyuu tsukishima#hq tsukishima#tsukki#haikyuu tsukki#hq tsukki#tsukkishima kei#tsukki x reader
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ANGRY BUGGY I’m screaming I’m giggling I’m kicking my feet.
Being a crew member never really made sense for you, I mean there’s no reason you can think of why he would want you to join his crew. You’re not very talented like the others and you really only ever clean, but you guess that’s reason enough if they just needed a maid, and you’re more than happy having somewhere to sleep at night.
You don’t notice the longing longs and stolen glances, too busy trying to earn your keep on a ship your thankful to have been given a home on. Paying no mind to “accidental” touches or brushing up against you, after all it can get pretty crowded and you’re all working in close quarters. Nothing seems off when you catch him watching you clean, he’s in charge and must be making sure you’re doing your job. You have no reason to think the Captain even knows your name, let alone thinks about you late at night.
Only that changes when he comes back to the ship, drunk and angry after a failed outing. He sees you dusting? He thinks? Not really sure he doesn’t pay much attention to the actual work your doing, but he does see /you/. You give him a half hearted smile to try and avoid confrontation with your clearly upset Captain. Only for him to knock whatever your doing out of your hands and pin your back to the wall. You look surprised and he’s not sure if your fucking with him or just oblivious, you /must/ have noticed how much better he treats you than the other crew, right? That you have to have seen the way he watches you work and how his eyes drift across your body? The only thing Captain Buggy is sure of is that he need to make sure you know, tonight.
Anooooonnnnnn, I'm SO SORRY I kept this for so long.
It's just so wonderful and I wanted to add to it.
Time and motivation were working against me, but HERE WE ARE. Finally spending time with our angry clown. 🩷
This was unplanned and got out of hand, like usual.
WC: ~800
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, mentions of drinking, insertion sex, angry sex, sorta dubcon (in my head, they both want this), profanity
Nothing - nothing - is going right and it's infuriating. Fucking frustrating. Yeah, he can be a piece of shit, a freak, a loser, but this is fucking ridiculous.
Months of planning and Buggy had nothing to show for it. Sleepless nights spent studying maps, gathering intel, spreading rumors - all for shit and empty hands.
And the moment he lays eyes on you, the anger surges through the liquor burning his insides. Months of planning on how to get closer to you, to get you under him, also resulted in fucking nothing.
You don't notice the way Buggy stares at you like a hungry wolf. You apologize for being in the way when he purposefully brushes his hand against your ass. You didn't question it when you were scheduled to clean his room. You didn't even bat a fucking eye when you walked in the first day and he was laying in bed. Sure he had underwear on, but seriously? You couldn't tell he was coming on to you?
And it's happening again. You're cleaning. Dusting the shit on his shelves. You manage to squeak out some bullshit apology when Buggy slams the door open. Just a little more and then you'd be out of his way.
But that's not where Buggy wants you.
Buggy keeps his eyes open when he kisses you. He wants to see you. The shocked expression on your face is both rewarding and aggravating.
"You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you," Buggy spits out.
"I don't- what-"
Your words are cut off by an aggressive kiss. Rough and overwhelming. His tongue invading your mouth, his teeth nipping your lips, bruising you.
Breaking the kiss, Buggy presses his forehead against yours. Heavy breaths fill the room. He's finally touching you. He finally has you in his hands. Your taste in his mouth. He should be happy. But no, this success doesn't clear the irritation running through his veins.
"Pull down your pants and turn around."
Buggy waits, wanting to see if you'd listen. And if you didn't, if you left... well whatever. Fuck you, then. And fuck him, ending up with nothing again.
There's barely enough time for his deprecating thoughts to depart before you undress just enough for him to see how aroused you are.
You want this as badly as he does. So why did you make him wait this long?
Rough hands spin your around. "Keep still," Buggy demands while he works to free his aching cock with one hand.
He hisses when bobs and rests against your ass. Your perfect ass. Fuck, he ruts against you, rubbing his erection on you like he's dreamed so many times before.
"Please," you whimper, legs shaking with each tantalizing movement.
The audacity. The fucking audacity you have.
"Please? Please? You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this and you want me to hurry?"
You shake your head but any words that you might say are chased away by pleasure and pain. By Buggy shoving himself in your needy body and his teeth digging into your shoulder. He bites harder and groans as your body clenches and squeezes around him.
His hips are pressed tightly against you and he starts thrusting, hardly pulling out while continuing to bully his way deeper.
Your gasps and moans are a reward. Your white-knuckle grip on the shelves is encouragement. Your body accepting his brutal thrusts is heaven. But Buggy wants more. He deserves more.
A hand in your hair yanks your head back, turning you into a fountain spilling filthy sounds.
Not enough.
His fingers find their way in your mouth and down your throat. You choke and sputter around the intrusion but make no move to pull away. Each gag has your body clenching around him harder.
A touch on Buggy’s wrist guides his other hand down between your legs. He’s sure you’d say “please” again in that adorably pitiful voice if you weren’t letting him fingerfuck your mouth.
“You fucking- fuck,” Buggy huffs, his hand moving frantically to bring you over the edge before he falls over himself. “You like this, don’t you?”
The high-pitched whine that you manage to push out around his fingers is Buggy’s undoing.
“You better fucking come on me now,” Buggy hisses while his thrusts become erratic and his hands start to shake.
Your legs shake when you catch up, your orgasm ripping through your body. His cock pulses and throbs as he fucks through your orgasms, drops of cum escaping every time he pulls back.
Eventually, heavy breaths fill the room again. The air is hot. It smells of sex, sweat, and alcohol.
“Do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence.
The soft tone in your voice is too much. The little flicker of anger in Buggy’s body is gone. He rests his head on your shoulder in defeat and nods. He does feel better.
“Will you stay?” he asks quietly, lips pressed against your damp skin. He wraps his arms around your torso and holds you tightly, not ready to end this moment.
You nod and the next morning finds you both asleep in bed, utterly worn out and completely content.
#buggy smut#buggy x reader#buggy the clown x reader#buggy the clown#buggy x you#x reader#buggy op#opla buggy#one piece buggy#buggy the clown smut#one piece smut
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I will never not be at least a bit baffled how I never got into mcr. A friend can happily try to change that but I tried to for them but just. Could not get into it. By all means I should or child me should have but I guess it never aligned for me. Like yeah I like the black parade who doesn't but that's that.
Thought brought to you by listening to three days grace again and thinking abt all bands/artists I listened to in childhood bc life sucked.
I listened to three days grace a fuck ton I listened to human and one-x prob the most but also life starts now lots.
Also hollywood undead but only selected songs (medicine the most prob, next to kill everyone, and dead bite. less I don't wanna die, and save me)
Skillet but I don't really anymore at least the new stuff. I listened to all of rise a lot. freakshow, madness in me, and circus for a psycho, rise the most tho prob. album awake too, monster is such a known song. i think? i listened to the album comatose also a lot. mix of wanting to die while being lovesick ig.
Fall out boy too but more selective. the phoenix, my songs know what you did in the dark, this ain't a scene it's an arms race, twin skeletons (hotel in nyc)
Grounbreaking a fuck ton the album we are monsters came out when I got snatched from home and put somewhere that only caused more trauma for the first time and I could forever talk abt him I listen to everything since then.
Set it off too but not too many dif songs back then. midnight had such a tight grip on me and i still find the whole album such a banger but that came out in 2019.
Oh fuck almost forgot linkin park (i still think abt those dumb "link in park" edits w tloz link in a park help). who doesn't know at least in the end. listened to a few songs by them too. in the end is still such a banger.
idk does icon for hire count I think. I still follow them i listened to a lot of their stuff at night esp the albums scripted and you can't kill us.
I think those are all in this category that I have kind of a connection to artist wise and didn't just listen to a couple of songs. all others aren't such artists bc i also coped w love songs a fuck ton (and my lifeline who I thought abt when I did remains the same and prob will until i die) or other stuff
ofc i was and still am a marina girlie but that isn't in this category. electra heart fav album there prob.
others that either a i only listened to a few songs but the band/artist doesn't really mean anything to me or b the artist means smth to me but i don't think it's in the same category as the above ones. still only ones for coping (you could argue all music is but like. ones that got prioritized at night either bc comfy or ones that made me get to cry bc fuck was that hard to do thx to circumstances. only had some weekends at actual own home for that privacy). obv not every single song just if ik the band is/was popular or at least that song or if i liked it significantly enough back then.
Veridia. I listened to at the end of the world, pretty lies (nightcore ty for introducing), and crazy in a good way the most. but also disconnected and cheshire smile.
Some stuff from alec benjamin mostly as nightcore. paper crown, mind is a prison, must have been the wind (the most prob, hold wait what how 2020 that feels older, tech dismissed but whatev), outrunning karma, water fountain, i built a friend
Freaks from timmy trumpet and savage is a classic and I still freq listen to it it is such a banger ngl
Be somebody and the end is where we begin by thousand foot krutch. both well known and still rly good.
Someone finally buy me lost ember bc the song all that you are is extremely comforting since years
Simeon curtis's whole R△ album. Still listen to him often. also a fair amount of super 8-bit heart.
you're going down by sick puppies. don't got much to say i just know its popular and i listened to it a fair amount.
all the king's men by the rigs. have not listened to it in ages but it is rly pretty.
hey alice by rachel rose mitchell. still rly love this song sang it a lot and i do listen to the new stuff toom underrated artist imo.
idk why but spotify threw good for you from that dear evan hansen musical in my face years ago and it rly got me so. here. i love musical songs ngl and i mean. it is rly good. idk how the musical is idc.
OH MY GOD I FORGOT PAPA ROACH to be fair that is in the middle I mainly just cared abt some songs. like. getting away with murder and last resort.
panic at the disco prob belongs at the top but idc anymore I wrote too much. fuck urie i only care abt the past stuff and if i say i love it does it only apply to the good times. too weird to live too young to die and death of a bachelor my beloved. i listened to sm on death of a bachelor and still do.
landslide by oh wonder. oh my god. i found it through the wander over yonder fandom ages ago iirc. it is. so so so pretty and still makes me almost immediately cry. such a nice song and was much needed.
to keep the v v pretty. where butterflies never die by broken iris is rly pretty. i however inflicted emotional damage on myself mostly with a new hope which I still canNOT fully listen to ages later without an emotional reaction.
ofc i also know wonderwall by oasis but i don't think it ever hit me as much as it did for others
king and lionheart n also mountain sound by of monsters and men. still rly love mountain sound.
just. a lot by nickelback. i still like the songs or at least some of it. the ones i listened to the most back then were holding on to heaven, don't ever let it end, if everyone cared, just to get high, if today was your last day (i think one of the first ones i heard, thx to a sonic x amv out of all possibilities sjsk)
boy like me by new medicine made me embarrassingly sad. i just remember making a bath so hot my skin gets red turning my love playlist on w these songs and zoning out weekly.
omg right lots of songs by madame macabre. mostly god syndrome, the pianist, cybernetic entities, balloon animals iirc.
also like just lots of others as nightcore or vocaloid songs I'm forgetting. like echo for example.
i listened a lot too dreams of an absolution too from sonic 06. still one of my favs idk if i used it for neg or pos.
maps by kurt hugo schneider n others the i think? cover? is so pretty i listened and sang it a lot in the night. still one of my favs.
imagine dragons w their old bangers monster, i bet my life, etc. ofc too. hate how they're nowadays.
only one by illenium was such a comfort song god. v pretty. can't listen to it while doing stuff. idk if it is more directed towards my back then bff or my other lifeline.
oh right halsey. i listend to gasoline so damn much. also to castle and control occasionally.
i was also obsessed with i miss the misery by halestorm
omg right. you're so creepy by ghost town. i still kinda like it it is so edgy. lil me was way more obsessed.
don't you dare forget the sun n keep myself alive by get scared. i still rly like them.
one for the money by escape the fate
Appalachian wine by eleventyseven is still rly pretty
Until we die by daïtshi
dance with the devil by breaking benjamin
this is gonna hurt by sixx:a.m.
and way way more if I would've moved the cut off year up but I wanted to focus early years not when I was v close to being an adult
to end this my all time comfort song I often cried myself to sleep with forever ago is fallen angel from panty and stocking. dreams dreams (adult vers not the kids thx) from nights journey of dreams was also a rly big one. in the name of love but only alexander stewart's cover was also rly comforting in the night and still is. only know a nightcore of it.
#a wild lux appears#capitalization funky bc I finally turned the auto function off#i accidentally spent way too long on this
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Zelda goes mushroom girl
#tloz#a link to the past#zelda#link#my art#I was happy with that first one but for some reason decided it still needed a companion piece so I spent way too long on that second one...#I don't think there was any time during the progress where I was happy with it but hfduhdfu at least I got to Attempt drawing moss hell yea#I also at some point sat in Pyu's art stream and said I enjoy drawing legs As I was being murdered by the infamously impossibe (imo) squat.#it's ok I had fun !! but I need to learn how to let doodles be doodles or I'll never finish stuff at this rate dfsuhfd#if everything in my tloz tag looks like it was drawn by different people uuuh 2023 was art crisis year ngl......#I'm falling back into my old ways rn though#anyway I think about these two a lot I think they're both stone faced and awkward ppl in different ways but they try rly hard to be friends#like I like to think it starts out so incredibly awkward and a bit sad bc they keep stepping over each other's toes accidentally the harder#they try but idk they find comfy middle ground idk in my brain they have a very interesting friendship I wanna get around to drawing it#in a proper way that might make sense....#if I don't write 200 tags I will die maybe it's bc I grew up on dA or smth#and yes I know how to find 1 (one) type of mushroom /I/ am not mushroom girl unfortunately smh
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That was an eventful two days
#I had a better time at the Waterparks concert#Noah was great#buuuut#I was on the barricade#I had my cousin hold onto my spot while I grabbed some merch and he didn’t hold onto the barricade so when I got back there were like three#rows of people in front of me#tall people too#and I got a ticket for my friend who wound not being able to go#and my brother who took us didn’t wanna go so I completely wasted $25 on a ticket#and it just Sucks that I spent so much money on ticket and got there super early just to be shoved way back when I LITERALLY had the front#there was this rude entitled lady who made everyone move for her son#he only knew tx2 but stayed up front the whole time#(she also took a spot right on the barricade too)#I was just really upset about how it didn’t go according to my plan and I kind of had a panic attack. like. a really fucking long one#and I had my vip bag + merch with me and everyone was stepping on it (no one was even playing?) and they fucked up my poster#but yeah I pretty much had a 2 hour long panic attack my ribs hurt now from hyperventilating (leaving the pit wouldn’t have helped)#the vip part was still good#I met Noah again he remembered me he did great it was just the people around me#oh I also like fucked up my knee#but that’s cause two concerts in a row hurt I think someone kinda accidentally kicked in a mosh pit and the first venue the ground had a#slight tilt to it. so it was kinda uncomfortable after a few hours#Waterparks#noahfinnce#concert#tx2#music
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For Serirei Week
Day one- Bar
#I done goofed and accidentally thought the prompt was drinks rather than bar#i spent way too long on this#and I am DETERMINED to make it to the end of the week#if y’all catch me slackin’ give me a good smackin’#reigen arataka#serizawa katsuya#serireiweek2023#serirei#mob psycho 100#mp100#art#artists on tumblr#my art
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🕷🕸 SPIDER-MAN NOIR PLAYLIST 🕸🕷
Side A
May These Noises Startle You in Your Sleep / Hell Above by Pierce the Veil
Today I Saw the Whole World by Pierce the Veil
Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit
Coming Undone by Korn
Cops and Robbers by The Hoosiers
You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring
Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace
Bones Exposed by Of Mice & Men
Keep Myself Alive by Get Scared
Devastation and Reform by Relient K
Viper's Drag by Allen Toussaint
Side B
What the Water Gave Me by Birdeatsbaby
The Kids Aren't Alright by Fall Out Boy
Shared Trauma by Pierce the Veil
I Blame Myself by Sky Ferreria
Leash by Sir Chloe
Resilience by Pierce the Veil
Goldfinch Nocturne by Roar
I Am The Dog by Sir Chloe
Thick Skull by Paramore
Golden by Fall Out Boy
#trinket record store#fandomposting.exe#spiderman noir#spider noir#character playlists#AW YEAH ITS FINISHED#spent way too long deciding which songs should go on and then ordering it in a way i thought flowed well#accidentally contributing to the noir is emo joke by having the same music taste since middle school sorry y'all#jk its not all emo music#...just mostly#some of its lyrics based some of its vibes based its a character playlist you know the drill#and please feel free to rb and add on your own stuff!!! i'd love to see what songs other ppl associate with him :)#btw these are all linked to youtube videos but i made sure they were all audio onlys or lyric videos#i already knew one of the music vids had flashing lights so i wanted to be safe with all of them
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SPIDERVERSE FANS I FOUND CONCEPT ARRTTTTTTTTTTT
All art by: Visual Development Artist and Illustrator Tiffany Lam
Ive tried to format this post TWICE and BOTH TIMES ive messed up. so just take the link and A-posing Miles...
...and a few more cool imgs
Go check out Tiffany Lam's website cause they got some cool The Mitchells vs The Machines and personal art. Maybe TMNT: Mutant Mayhem art soon?
Fun Fact! I did *indeed* email Ms. Lam and she gave the go ahead for personal use so have fun with the new backgrounds!
#potatcatposts#across the spiderverse#arachnophobia#also fyi Im saving both those 2 gwen and mumbatten pieces for my own personal wallpaper#and the mary janes one too!#i spent way too long on this post#cause the first time I made it with a bunch of fun details#MY INTERNET CUT OUT AND I ACCIDENTALLY DID CTRL Z AND ALL MY WORK WENT FUCKIN *ABRA CADABRA ITS GONE BITCH*#TWICE#laughing crying rn fr#hope people still like the *fuck this shit hell site* (to the tune of fuck this shit im out) post#art tag#art#concept art#wallpaper#into the spider verse#spiderman#beyond the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#artwork#character design#illustration#digital art#the mitchells vs the machines#dreamworks#across the spider verse#spider verse#tmnt mutant mayhem
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✎ curiosity
- gojo satoru x reader
when gojo is found out by his own son during your nighttime activities
genre:
18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! crack, fluff, dad!gojo
note:
based on a fun suggestion by anon! and it’s been sooo long in my drafts🤧 anyways gojo in phantom parade game is so otome-coded, look at his innocent face!—that's how he's going to be while explaining this to his son
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
"Nghh—Satoru... ah!" you mewled, breathless, right after the third time he made you cum on his fingers alone.
Gods, even with one kid already running around, Satoru never stopped acting like he desired you like when you were still newlyweds. The glint in his eyes never dulled—always smirking at you as if you were the prey, as he licked his fingers with a wicked smile.
"Ah, sweets, are you ready to take me in now?" he cooed in your ear. Really, he was at his limit, seeing how he brought pleasure to you as you writhed under him made him this close to becoming undone too.
With your nod of approval, he wasted no time. He gripped your hips, and swiftly slid his thick cock between your folds. As he sank into you—making himself fit, you accidentally let out a loud moan.
“So pretty,” Satoru groaned through clenched teeth, marveling at your scrunched face, feeling how your legs wrapped around his waist in compliance. “Still so tight for me...”
And the way you squeezed your eyes shut right before he started to pound into you made him finally lose it, as he hotly grunted in that raw, almost feral voice—
“All mine.”
With each thrust, you quite literally squealed. Seems like you were sensitive at this time of the month, because your senses were heightened and you couldn't help the nasty moans leaving your lips. The sensation of him repeatedly slamming his hips against you turned you into a crying mess, and had you totally forgetting that your toddler was sleeping just next door.
And when his climax exploded within you with one last powerful thrust, his hot cum spurting hard, stuffing you to the brim and painting your womb white— you clawed at him, tugged him closer to your breasts as a mix of scream and moan of his name escaped your lips, trembling at the depth to which he was burying himself inside you.
You were panting, totally spent, sensing the familiar way of his cum trickling down your thighs. And at that moment, you could have sworn you heard the patter of footsteps nearby. Before you could fully register it, Satoru hastily pulled the blanket to cover you both.
Suddenly, your bedroom's door swung open, revealing your precious boy standing there, visibly sleepy but worried. "Mama?"
You muttered your son's name weakly, disoriented, and it only served to worry him further. His little eyes widened, and he took a step—
"No, no, kiddo!" Satoru urged in a panic. "Stay there! Don't move!"
His son eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing? Why are you crushing mama?"
"I—" Satoru collected himself, and put on the most innocent smile. "I'm... helping mama to sleep, you see."
You went pale, now that you realized the situation you were in. Your son had just seen you and your husband in the middle of the act. You were silently grateful for Satoru's quick thinking for covering both of you to spare your son from the indecency.
"Helping?" your son gaped in disbelief. "But she was just crying!"
"Yeah, she cried because she couldn't sleep," Satoru blurted, still smiling benevolently like he hadn't nothing wrong. You felt the urge to facepalm at his terrible excuse and the irony of the situation—how close he was to collapsing beside you, and that he hadn't even pulled out of you yet.
Your intelligent boy wasn't easily convinced, that was what you would expect of him.
"How's you hovering over her will help her sleep?"
“With this position, she'll sleep more comfortably, you know,” he asserted confidently, prompting a subtle twitch in your eye. He turned to you, a stupid grin on his face. “And who knows, it might also help to make your sibling. Isn’t it true, dear?”
Satoru nudged your side, willing you to agree with him. You were in utter shock and shot him a dark glare, before looking at your distraught son in a flurry. “Y-yeah… I’m fine, baby. Go back to your room now.”
“You're not hurting, Mama?” the little boy asked you worriedly. Thank heavens he was more focused on you rather than Satoru's little comment.
“No. Your papa is just… trying to help. I’m okay, yeah?”
“If you say so…” your son pouted reluctantly. He shifted his gaze on his father and 'hmph'-ed in accusation. “You’re weird.”
"Hey!" Satoru exclaimed, comically offended. "What are you doing here, anyway? Can't you sleep?"
“I heard noises... and now I want to go to the bathroom…”
Your husband grunted. "Fine, I'll come with you. Just wait a moment and close the door, please?"
Your son threw one last concerned glance at you before shutting the door. Both of you let out collective sighs of relief.
“I swear, he’s such a brat. He used to be so lovable too,” Satoru grumbled under his breath, finally slipping out of you and rolled to your side. He playfully tapped your lower belly and winked. “I hope it’s a daughter next. She will surely be daddy's girl.”
Your body was still shivering as a result of your high earlier, and yet you still managed to side-eye him, hissing, “I'm going to kill you, Gojo Satoru.”
“Wha—”
“Sleep more comfortably? A sibling?”
“Well, can’t we just say that we’re going to give him—”
“Satoru, don’t you put more weird ideas in our son’s head.”
“But—!”
“The moment you do, and if I catch you, I swear to God, I'm banishing you from our bed.”
Epilogue
“Uncle Nanami… does sleeping in certain position will give me a sibling?”
Nanami almost choked on his own words. “What?”
On this rather fine day, he had agreed to help you keep an eye on your child, as both you and Satoru went on separate missions.
He might not be able to stand his senior, but Nanami couldn’t deny that he had a soft spot for the toddler even if he was a carbon copy of his father, as the boy was sweet and overall more like you in nature.
Your son blinked at him curiously. “Papa said not to tell this to mama, but when I asked, he was actually trying to give me a brother or sister to play with when he squished mama on the bed the other day.”
Nanami felt a vein about to burst at the very implication. In hindsight, he shouldn’t be surprised at Gojo Satoru’s unrefined parenting skills but then again, anything that annoying clown did always managed to surprise him one way or another. He let out a long sigh.
“Kid, forget what your father said.”
“Huh? Is that not true then?”
“Report this to your mother, yeah? Ask her too, she will have better answers for you.”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen imagines#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo satoru imagines#dad!gojo#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#18+ only
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but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#wheresarizona writes#joel miller x you#Joel miller/yo
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“heatwaves”
pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader
summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes?
content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties.
a/n: it's here! somebody spay me.
by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!
credits: dividers by @cafekitsune.
wc: 5k
Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot.
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way.
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably.
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.”
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross.
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before.
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones…
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing.
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers?
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man…
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused.
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour.
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen.
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?”
Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was…
“Yes… Thank you.”
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…”
“Take care.”
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources?
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think.
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor.
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor.
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?”
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?”
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside.
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips.
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully.
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost.
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing.
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.”
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree.
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground.
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker.
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it.
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply.
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?”
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands.
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right?
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed?
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power…
“N-no–”
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?”
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper.
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls.
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard.
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper.
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.”
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–”
“‘M following your scent, baby.”
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love.
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin.
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning.
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.”
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key.
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak.
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper.
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right.
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough.
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts.
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation.
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.”
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again.
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs.
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-”
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back.
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.”
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants.
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty.
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm.
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need.
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.”
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.”
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.
“You on birth control, baby?”
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…”
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.”
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively.
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back.
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name.
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts.
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me.
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers.
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now…
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together.
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.”
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair.
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones.
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut.
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed.
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he.
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does.
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry.
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision.
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to.
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here.
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time.
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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#bree’s fics#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu gojo#satoru#gojo#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#satoru gojou#gojou satoru#a/b/o#alpha gojo#alpha!gojo#a/b/o dynamics#omegaverse#jjk omegaverse#tw: a/b/o dynamics#tw: omegaverse
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bdubs tree except i accidentally spent way too long on it and i hate the lasso tool now
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Calling Them By Their Full Name
OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy
Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious
Sorry for any spelling errors!
Luffy
-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.
-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.
-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”
-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got
-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.
-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.
-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.
-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.
-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long
Zoro
-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY
-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded
-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed
-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”
-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.
“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.
-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.
-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you
Sanji
-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."
-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.
-You never use his full name like that. Never.
-did he just get chills?
-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.
-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.
-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.
-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.
Bonus: Mihawk
-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.
-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.
-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand
-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!
-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.
-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.
-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.
-His look says it all. You’re screwed.
-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.
-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”
#x reader#i don't care he's hot#one piece#one piece live action#headcannons#hes so hot#sanji opla#opla zoro#luffy opla#opla mihawk#sanji x reader#zoro x reader#mihawk x reader#luffy x reader#opla x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#monkey d. luffy x reader
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Cuddles
Alastor x Reader (QP)
You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.
But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.
After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.
Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
But that wasn't an option.
Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.
"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."
Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.
"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."
A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.
Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.
"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."
Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.
"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."
You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.
Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."
Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.
Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.
"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."
It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.
Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin alastor#cuddles#reluctant cuddles#fluff#rhys-writes#alastor x reader queerplatonic
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.”
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?”
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door.
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!”
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega.
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know.
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door.
It’s going to be a long week.
Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent.
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller.
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged.
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat.
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much.
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things.
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?”
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.”
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.”
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?”
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.”
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks.
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom.
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom.
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.”
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable.
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.”
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips.
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.”
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert.
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up.
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort.
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room.
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega.
Their omega.
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient.
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right.
Maybe they did need you after all.
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water.
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while.
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back.
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.”
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?”
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.”
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.”
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both.
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?”
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room.
Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest.
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips.
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back.
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain.
You went into heat.
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark.
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over.
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs.
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears.
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week.
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort.
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this.
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence.
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?”
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb.
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.”
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure.
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.”
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks.
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.”
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.”
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done.
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.”
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all.
3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him.
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.”
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could.
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks.
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again.
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant.
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks.
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame.
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face.
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days.
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?”
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.”
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall.
Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw.
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside.
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.”
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent.
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases.
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through.
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in.
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-”
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.”
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.”
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible.
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh.
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.”
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still.
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-”
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face.
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.”
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it.
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta.
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.”
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees.
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha.
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.”
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it.
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says.
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s.
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks.
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole.
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass.
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.”
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.”
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either.
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before.
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets.
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again.
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again.
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.”
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.”
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank.
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again.
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further.
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.”
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise.
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.”
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more.
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!”
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is.
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!”
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done.
They’re both in for a long night.
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#x reader#captain price x reader#John price x reader#gaz x reader#Kyle gaz Garrick x reader#soap x reader#John soap mactavish x reader#Simon Riley x reader#Simon ghost Riley x reader#a/b/o#alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics#Omegaverse
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