smuttydegenerate

[smuttydegenerate]

One thing for certain 2 things for sure kidnapped darling reader is always gonna jump out a window lol

[smuttydegenerate]

First time fuck up

Summary: You ask Simon to be your first time. Only you don't tell him it's your first time, and it leaves both of you with some regrets. Writen with fem anatomy (This was originally gonna be angst, but I changed my mind cause I'm sensitive)

You knew how it would go from the moment you met him.

Maybe that's why you chose Simon for your first time. Quiet, too himself, and doesn't seem to take things seriously other than his job. You had grown tired of waiting for the "right one" and decided to just.. bite the bullet.

That felt like a mistake now.

Your body ached, the space between your legs throbbing though you hadn't said anything. He'd grunted when you told him you didn't know what to do, taking charge of the whole interaction.

It hadn't felt bad... but it certainly didn't feel that good. You curl on your side, grimacing in pain when the bed shifts and Simon climbs out.

"You're leaving?" You ask quietly as you look over your shoulder, watching him pull on his jeans and grab his shirt. Simon looks at you with an air of indifference, and it made your stomach churn. You shouldn't have asked.

"I don't cuddle." He says simple, matter of fact, tugging his shirt on and heading for the door. You nodded once, turning back toward the wall and pulling your blankets over your aching body. Maybe you should've waited.

You know you shouldn't take it personally. You chose Simon because of his detachment, but when you hear the door shut behind him, the tears gathering in your eyes start to fall.

Simon couldn't stop thinking about you. We'll, about your night together. You were hesitant in your movements, eyes wide as he'd taken control, and you were quiet. That's the part that had surprised Simon the most. He wasn't one to brag, and he knew he could be a little rough, but most people he'd been with loved it.

So why hadn't you?

Two days had passed, and he still couldn't shake the thought that there was something he'd missed. That's how he found himself at your barrack door. It was late evening, but he could hear you shuffling around in the room. After another long minute, he raises his hand and knocks on the door.

When you open the door, your face falters slightly, but you fix it quickly, giving him a small smile. "Oh, hey Simon. What's up?"

"Was I your first time?" He asks immediately as he leans against the door frame. Your face falls again, and his heart sinks a little, looking down at the hickey he'd left on your collar bone. "It was, wasn't it?"

"Can we not talk about this with you in the hall?" You ask quickly as you move aside to let him in. Simon comes inside and shuts the door behind him, staring down at you as you walk toward your bed and sit down on the edge. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I just wanted to... I don't know. Get it over with."

"You don't do that with your virginity, Y/N." Simon gruffly states, adjusting his tone when he sees you flinch slightly. "Why would you choose me? And why wouldn't you tell me?" He probes softly as he walks over to the bed and sits beside you.

"I knew you wouldn't care. Not that way!" You say defensively when his eyes narrow at you. "I knew you wouldn't care enough to tell people that we hooked up! Or let it affect how we act around each other." You clarify as quickly as you can, dropping your head into your hands. "That doesn't sound good, either."

"But why rush? And why not say anything?" Simon asks after a beat, gently taking a hand away from your face so he can look at you. "I would've been more gentle." You let him lower your hand, dropping your free one into your lap.

"I don't know. I wanted to see what the big deal was. And everyone gets all weird about it when I say I'm a virgin. I thought if I just... Went for it, than it wouldn't be akward in the future." You mutter quietly as you look down at your lap. You realize what else he had said, turning to face him properly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. You didn't deserve to be my first time without knowing."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask. I should've when I noticed you were uncomfortable, but I didn't." Simon was holding your hand now instead of your wrist, giving it a small squeeze. "I can be gentle with you. If you want to try again. I want to make you feel good." He insists, and you squeeze his hand back.

"Please?" You ask, slowly drawing Simon's hand to the waistband of your sleep shorts. Simon chuckles softly and slips his mask up and off his face. You watch with the same wide eyes he'd seen two days ago, but they were less uncertain.

"If I'm going to fast, tell me to slow down. You have to use your words, Y/N. Understand?" Simon prompts firmly as he gently takes his hand from yours. You nod in understanding. He cradles your face in his hand and leans closer to you, pressing a thumb against your lips to stop you from kissing him. "Ah, verbal answer."

"Yes, I understand." You acknowledge and squeak a little when he pulls you into a kiss. You feel his warm hands slide down to your shorts, pulling them down and tossing them aside. You shiver when one of his hands finds its way between your legs.

"Comando?" Simon mutters against your lips, chuckling a little. "That's fine with me... Less layers." You gasp as he eases you down, laying you on your back and hovering over you. "I'm going to make it up to you, Y/N. I want you to know how good this can feel." Simon whispers, his hands beginning to creep up your shirt.

"Yes please." You say eagerly, helping him slip your shirt over your head and to the side. He kisses you, nipping your bottom lip when he pulls away and slowly kisses down your chest. Your eyes widen a little when he reaches your hips, kissing across your tummy as he lowers himself down between your legs. "Your going to eat me out?" You ask nervously.

Simon pauses, looking up at you as he lowers to his stomach on the bed. "Is that okay? Or do you want me to stop?" He asks sincerely and you take a deep breath.

"It's okay. I just don't know what to do." You admit quietly as you fiddle with the bed sheets. Simon smiles softly, placing a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Hold onto my hair, okay? Just let yourself feel good. Don't hold back your noises, and don't worry about it. Soon, you'll feel so good you won't even worry about that." Simon assures as he takes one of your hands and threads it through his short blonde curls.

He dips his head between your legs, licking a stripe from your hole to your swollen clit and swiping back and forth across it. You gasp at the sensation, tighening your grip on his hair as he begins eating you out in earnest.

He wasn't wrong about not being able to worry. The feeling of his hot mouth pressing, licking, and sucking at your core was enough to have your eyes rolling back and your hips jerking forward against his mouth. "Shit, Si, more please!" You beg weakly as you grind your hips down into his mouth.

The tight grip on his hair and your thighs squeezing around your head made him groan against you. His nose bumps agaisnt your swollen clit, thrusting his tounge into your hole and looking up to gauge your reaction. Your eyes roll back, a small cry escaping you as you try to wiggle toward the pleasure.

Simon pins your hips down to keep you still, relishing in the desperate whine you let out. "N-No Si, please! Let me move." You plea as you try to buck against his hands. He turns his head to nip your thigh, turning back to eating you out. "Ah! Fuck.." You gasp, your thighs squeezing tighter around his head.

Simon chuckles softly, bringing his tongue back up to your clit and swiping back and forth. You arch agaisnt the bed, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep the cry quiet. He keeps swirling his tounge around your clit until you start pulling his hair to pull him off.

"Simon, stop, stop, please!" You gasp shakily, and he pulls back, leaning up on his elbows. "Sorry... It was too much.." You whisper bashfully, your face feeling flush. Simon kisses your lower belly, leaving behind some of your slick.

"Never apologize for saying stop." He mumbles against your skin, looking up at you with half lidded eyes. "Do you want a break?" He asks genuinely as he easily pulls himself to hover over you.

"Would you be upset if I didn't want to have sex tonight?" You ask timidly, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. Simon smiles down at you, and your stomach flutters. He leans down to kiss you gently, moving you onto the pillows.

"No. Honestly, I got off humping your bed." He mutters against your lips and you flush even more at the words, covering your face with your hands. "Ah come on, that makes you shy? I was just between your legs." He teases and you squeak at that, trying to roll away from him.

"No no no..." He pulls you back to him, chuckling as he pulls your hands away from your face. "Look at me, pretty baby." You blink in surprise at the nickname and Simon clears his throat slightly. "You were wrong about me not caring. I like you, quite a bit actually. You can ask Soap." He admits as he rubs his thumbs across your wrists.

"I'm sorry. For not telling you and for assuming that you wouldn't care." You apologized and Simon hushes you with a soft kiss. "Does that mean you do cuddle?" You ask, half teasing and half hoping to have his warm body beside you tonight.

His smile widens a little as he nods, leaning back to shuck off his cum soaked sweats and boxers. He tosses them aside before getting under the covers with you and pulling you against him.

"I think we need a real date. Sit down, get dinner type date." You whisper, looking up at his unmasked face. You couldn't believe how cute he was, scars and all, one hand absently coming up to stroke along the scar tissue.

"That sounds good. There's a diner by base." Simon turns his head to kiss your fingertips. "We'll go tomorrow." He hums as he tightens his grip around your waist and slings a leg over you. You smile slightly at that, trying to reach for your lamp to shut it off when Simon starts snoring quietly.

You sigh, settling into the bed and looking down at where he was snuggled into your shoulder. Simon Riley actually did cuddle, and tonight you were his human teddy bear.

[smuttydegenerate]

YOU DID NOT COME THIS FAR JUST TO COME THIS FAR!

Hey Bestie,

This is your reminder to keep going — even when the path seems unclear and the obstacles feel insurmountable. Every step you take, no matter how small, brings you closer to your goals. Embrace the journey, cherish the progress, and remember that persistence is key to overcoming challenges. Keep pushing forward, and the rewards will follow.

Instagram • Get All Access to B.F.S HERE 💋

[smuttydegenerate]

Good shit

(p2 of mail order soldier könig)

Despite everything, you really weren’t ready for how big he was.

Sure, his profile had mentioned it- “tall” in bold, all-caps, like a warning label or a selling point, depending on your preferences alongside his equally intimidating name. And his vibe? Absolutely screamed haunted clock tower. You had expected “tall” in the way NBA players were tall, or the way celebrities looked tall on red carpets but were actually like 5’10” in real life. But this? This was different. This was architectural: König didn’t just walk into a space; he filled it like a cathedral with opinions. You stood next to him and felt like a misplaced LEGO figure who’d been granted custody of an ancient war relic. Every time he moved, you felt the displacement of air like God was adjusting a chess piece.

You had thought all of that because the trip back to your temporary apartment had been… an ordeal. König didn’t drive. You hadn’t even gotten far enough to ask why. It could’ve been a moral objection, a PTSD trigger, or just the fact that his knees probably touched his chin in a Toyota Corolla. You didn’t drive either (personal trauma plus urban nihilism), so rideshare it was. When the driver pulled up and caught a glimpse of König, who stood beside you like an executioner summoned from a darker, angrier timeline, the man audibly gasped and his foot started to inch toward the gas pedal.

You leaned in through the passenger window with your brightest, most deranged smile. “Five stars and I’ll make sure he doesn’t flay you.”

The driver nodded- poossibly blacked out. And drove like the devil was behind him, which, to be fair, he kind of was.

Arriving at your building was when the spatial tragedy truly began. König had to duck to get into the lobby. Not in a cute, awkward way, but like a kaiju visiting a dollhouse. The fluorescent lights buzzed uneasily overhead, dimming just slightly as if reacting to his gravitational pull, and you became hyper-aware of everything you owned and how none of it was rated for the stress test of Austrian death cryptid.

The elevator? Out of the question. Your third-floor apartment? Suddenly way too far from the ground. König climbed the stairs like a war machine from a documentary about siege tactics, each footstep a dull thud that you were certain would cost you your damage deposit, but at least he seemed to have no complaints… though you were sure he was unhappy with how you had to stop to catch your breath lseveral times while he remained military-commercial ready.

When you opened your apartment door and gestured grandly, the words that came out were: “This is… home. Temporary. Probably. Until you accidentally break the building and we need to live in a cave.”

König said nothing. Just paused in the doorway, ducking under the frame with practiced effort, and lingered there for a moment. His eyes- somewhere behind that hood, surely?- swept the place with a slow, methodical awareness that made you wonder how many exits he could already map and how many sniping points your living room offered.

You gestured to the couch with the fatal optimism of someone about to learn a lesson. “You can sit. If it holds.”

It did not. Or rather, it gave one last dramatic gasp of life. There was a creak, a pop, and then a long, soft crunch that felt less like furniture collapsing and more like it was filing for a legal separation. König, to his credit, looked apologetic. Or maybe he didn’t; it was hard to tell with the hood, but his shoulders hunched slightly, and that seemed like the body language equivalent of a Canadian “sorry.”

“…Okay. Floor’s fine too. Floor is classic.”

He lowered himself with all the elegance of a collapsing war monument, folding into a sprawl of limbs that somehow took up more space despite being on the ground. He sat cross-legged like a monk, if monks were built like tanks and radiated a kill count.

And then- the doorbell rang an unwelcome, familiar tune that made you freeze.

Not the good kind of freeze, and not the surprise-party kind. The fight-or-flight-oh-god-it’s-him kind. That sound- that arrogant, familiar, triple-tap of someone who thought your doorbell was a buzzer for attention? That was him.

Your ex-fiancé.

You turned slowly to König, who had stilled completely. His body didn’t move, but his attention locked onto the door like a predator scenting blood. He was suddenly alert, dangerous, like a loaded gun that had remembered it had a purpose.

“Okay,” you whispered, as if trying not to disturb a spirit. “This is a test. A dry run. Like a fire drill, except instead of fire, it’s a narcissistic man with commitment issues.”

König tilted his head slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you were 90% sure that meant, Shall I gut him or just remove the legs?

You held up one finger. “Let’s just… see what he wants first.”

You cracked the door open, just enough to peek through and block most of König’s terrifying silhouette. And there he was. Your ex-fiancé, smug as ever with his hair gelled within an inch of its life, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a gold chain that you were pretty sure had been repossessed twice.

“Hey, babe,” he said with that smirk that had once seemed charming and now just looked like he was trying to seduce his own reflection. He completely brushed over the fact that he had followed you all the way here, to this supposedly hidden apartment you got until you had König with you. “You haven’t been answering my texts.”

“I changed phones,” you replied instantly. “And numbers. And species.”

He gave a little laugh like you were just being coy. Leaned on the doorframe with the forced casualness of someone trying to win you back with zero self-awareness and all his tricks learned from BookTok. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences, but I’ve been thinking-”

And that was when König rose. Not stood, but rose.

The doorframe went from well-lit to eclipsed in seconds. A gloved hand slid into view and gripped the edge of the door, the fingers longer than your ex’s attention span. Your ex’s expression did a full software reboot.

“…Who the hell is that?”

You offered a cheerful shrug. “Oh, that’s König. My security system. He came with knives and trauma.”

König took one slow, deliberate step forward. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The pressure of him, the sheer atmospheric density of his presence, did all the work. It was like standing in front of an oncoming avalanche and realizing the snow hates you.

Your ex-fiancé made a sound- a half-choked, half-whined hiccup that suggested his ego had just herniated. Still, he tried to rally. Puffing his chest. “I’m not scared of him, okay? You think you can threaten me with some… some cosplaying lunatic?”

König stepped forward again. Just one inch. Just enough.

The air grew heavy.

Your ex backpedaled so fast you almost heard cartoon sound effects. “Y-you know what? This is toxic. You’re toxic. I was trying to be the bigger person!”

König tilted his head again. Just enough to reveal a single glint of eye behind the hood, and it made your ex scream.

Actually screamed. Like a man encountering the consequences of his actions for the very first time. And then he was gone. Fled down the hallway like the answer to a prayer you hadn’t had time to finish.

“We’ll talk later!”

No, we won’t.

You shut the door with the satisfying click of sealing a tomb, you grin slowly stretching.

König turned back to you, then, silent and still waiting. .

You reached up and patted his arm- gently, because you were fairly certain that bicep could be registered as a medieval weapon. “A+, no notes. Extremely threatening. Ten out of ten cryptid vibes. You are great!”

He made a low soun that was not quite a grunt and not quite a sigh, and you took it as a thank-you.

Later, after the adrenaline had faded, you handed him a mug of tea- which looked comically small in his massive hands, like a Barbie accessory. He held it delicately, reverently, as if you’d handed him a precious museum piece instead of an herbal infusion from a grocery store.

You curled up on the wrecked edge of your couch, eyeing him across the room.

“Y’know,” you murmured, half to yourself, “this might actually work out.”

He didn’t reply, but he did lean a little closer.

“What d’you want for lunch?” You finally remembered to ask, standing up with your hands on your hips like you were Superman awaiting orders from Batman and not actually one of the miserable civilians that need to be saved regularly.

“We gotta keep you big and thick, König! So just say what you’d like.”

…he was staring a little too intently at you, actually. You kind of felt like you were kinning your ex-fiancé in this moment.

[smuttydegenerate]

Girl that's the same pic???......did you mean to post twice

[Yandere Prison Masterlist]

[smuttydegenerate]

First of all this is the cutest thing ever ❤️😍❤️😍

The heart shaped glove❤️

The hair ❤️

The bushy eyebrows ❤️

100000/10 sooooo 🥰

Newly converted COD artist who just wants to show their appreciation for a specific SAS operative (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

[smuttydegenerate]

Let me just........

Price bending you over for a hole inspection when he comes back from deployment <33

Oh my god, Three, you have no fucking idea what this just did to me (I'm love you? (ﾐⓛᆽⓛﾐ)✧ ))

I'm so sorry this triggered the idea for something that feels like a take on what's a bad miracle? where john immediately gets to work trying to pump a baby in you when you ask for a divorce after he makes sure you understand you're not leaving him, so, uh, I hope you like that, dear 💚

content: hole inspection, breeding kink, feels like dubcon so call it noncon just in case

there are tires on your drive. it's what snaps you out of the work you'd fallen into, and you know immediately. you make quick work of saving the document you'd been working on, hit send on the emails you'd been bouncing back and forth composing, and are shutting your laptop before the door of john's truck shuts with a thud!

your face begins to heat up as you hear him enter the house.

"stay where ya are, darlin', need to make sure you've been a good girl." his amusement isn't shared as you freeze, shame burning as you seat yourself on the edge of your desk, feeling like a naughty child.

john whistles while he walks through the house, working his way through the rooms, before he begins to ascend the stairs. his face lights up as he makes eye contact with you, stride sure as he made his way to your office. he knew you hated when he checked you here.

before you can even try and appeal to him, he begins tutting.

"up, luv, gotta see her, don't i?"

it feels like your face is burning when you raise yourself, turning so you can bend over and brace your hands against the desk, because you knew he loved to begin your check himself.

his calloused hands slide beneath your shirt, briefly giving a loving squeeze to your soft tummy before going down into the soft fabric of your sweatpants, under the cotton of your panties. your eyes cinch shut as you feel the wet pull as they were tugged away, pushed down your ass, thighs, before stopping at just above your knees.

"have you been naughty?"

you shake your head, too embarrassed to look at him as he forced your legs wider apart.

john sighs as he takes in the sight. his hand is heavy on the small of your back and you can hear a pair of soft clicks as he must be squatting down to take his look.

thick fingers part your folds, his breath fanning against your wet walls and quivering hole.

"no? haven't touched yourself at all while i've been gone?"

this time you nod, feeling yourself clench instinctively.

when he raises a rough fingertip to prod at your hole you gasp, tighten your grip. he tests at the soft rim of you, before finally pressing in, pulling a soft moan from you.

"that's a good girl, so tight, like you're fighting me."

you hear his belt buckle drop to the ground, eyes flying open as you turned to look back at him.

of course you pleaded. "john."

"need her darlin', gotta make sure we use as much of our time as we can trying for that baby."

you bury your face in your arms as he bullies the fat head of his cock inside.

[smuttydegenerate]

Imm giddy ☺️

line-up [alpha!141 x omega!reader]

summary: pack 141 shows their interest in you.

pairing: alpha!141 x omega!reader

warnings: +18 (mdni), omegaverse, a/b/o, mild sexual themes, heavy misogyny, low self-esteem, forced exchange of personal items (underwear).

part 1: the gift exchange

you’ve heard that they’re picky.

somehow that doesn’t surprise you. there’s not many people who are allowed in their pack. even less people step on their territory and not without good reason.

it makes sense why they’d choose this specific prison establishment.

it’s a whole process. every omega’s package was sent to a pack for The Selection. from there, they would choose which omegas should be placed in a room to come and meet them for the first time. after that, only one (or a few) get to go home with them.

you sent in your package weeks ago. you were required to send a few things in that box. someone cut a few pieces of your hair to place in ziplock bags. scent packets too (these were very important); you had to rub square pieces of wet cotton on your scent glands and put those in ziplock bags too. a few items of clothing, both washed and unwashed, each also placed in it’s own ziplock bag so the smells don’t mix. usually, it’s a shirt, a hoodie, something with your sweat. and finally, one vial of your blood for genetic testing and to see if there’s any conditions they need to be aware of.

it’s all very clinical. hardly any feeling put into it. you just go through the motions of following instructions given to you like the good little omega you are.

however, this pack, 141, a week after you sent in your package, put in a request for one pair of your underwear.

then. you were... surprised, to say the least. when you sent your initial package in, you thought that would’ve been the end of it. packs and lone alphas usually overlooked you and didn’t pay you no mind. you assumed it would be the same again this time.

“no.” said Laswell.

you halted in your tracks when you attempted to get a pair of panties from your hamper. Kate Laswell is a cold individual. she stands tall with a stern face and speaks with a temperament that douses you in ice cold water.

her tone, though not unkind, makes you think she doesn't like you very much. more like she’s running an errand that’s wasting her time. she’s not too low on patience, but it’s not enough for her to be overly nice to you.

Kate is no omega, that much you’re sure of but it’s hard to discern if she’s beta or alpha. she gives no sign that she might be beta as she gives off no scent that speaks to her designation. and while she seems non-aggressive to the naked eye, you can tell that she could easily put down an arrogant alpha if she needs to.

icy blue eyes drop to just below your stomach. “the one you’re wearing right now.”

what. the. fuck.

the mere notion of it is so crude. your cheeks burn hotly as you stare at her with wide eyes. she bears no emotion on her face. like what she’d just asked you was completely normal. like it was just standard procedure.

it wasn’t. this was new. unprecedented, even. for you, anyway.

“o—oh. um…” you nervously glance at the two guards behind her. “is— is that allowed?”

the one who came with her, Alex, a beta with nods. like Kate, pale, blond haired and blue eyed. except, unlike her, he has a friendly face.

“it is.” he softly confirms. “we’re sorry that it’s such a sudden request. the pack just wants to be sure.”

it’s not the suddenness of the request that’s so jarring. it’s how wildly inappropriate odd it is.

and they want to be sure? of what exactly?

you don’t know what your panties have that the rest of your package doesn’t. it’s all scent, all biology. clinical. right down to the bone. you can’t think of a single good reason why the package you had sent wasn’t enough for them.

you stood there, mouth agape as you try to think of something to say. to resist. to counter. but you know nothing you say has no weight. you don’t have a choice in this. it hardly matters how degrading the request is. you must follow through with it, even if you expect no follow up on how the alphas have responded.

either you give them what they want or suffer the consequences.

the other guard, the one hired by the establishment, growls when you take too long to decide. his brow twitches, face twisted into a scowl as he snaps his teeth at you. “come on, Ms. Laswell doesn’t have all day. do as you’re told, omega—”

you flinch at his raised voice. his burning scent invades your nose faster than you can try to prepare yourself for it.

Jason has always been like that. an alpha who cracks his whip at any disobedience. he especially seems to have it out for you. you have no idea why and you’ve done your best to stay out of his way.

Kate, however, doesn’t tolerate his anger. because she immediately shot back—

“quiet.” a veiled threat. she’s not even as loud as he was. she turns to face him, blocking you from his view. “do not talk to her like that.”

alpha, your mind screams.

her annoyance freezes the air over. it’s the only sort of emotion you’ve seen from her up until this point. and it’s the only thing that gives her away.

she’s an alpha.

it’s all she needs to make Jason’s spine straighten in a split second. every ounce of bravado vapourized into thin air faster than you can blink. he hangs his head in shame and looks away. “y—yes, ma’am. my apologies.”

you’re stand very still, watching the exchange in awe. you think this might be the first time anyone has ever truly put him in his place. nonetheless, you obeyed when she turns back to you, if only you don’t end up on the receiving end of her ire.

when Laswell looks at you once more, you’re quick to avoid her eyes as you reach under your skirt and took off your underwear, a simple piece of soft cotton, cheeks burning with heat because you’re all too aware of the wet spot on it. you wonder how many more omegas were also made to hand over their panties like that.

she holds out an open ziplock bag and lets you put them inside then seals it shut. Alex then steps forward. he holds out a box. it’s the standard semi-clear package. your eyes widen when you get a glimpse of what’s inside.

ziplock bags. you count four big bags. there’s more in there but you can’t see how many from where you’re standing.

“take these.” he gives you the box. your arms sag a bit at the unexpected weight of it. it’s heavier than you thought. “they wanted you to have them before The Selection.”

“thank you.” you squeak, unable to think of anything else to say.

Kate leaves without another word and Alex bids you goodbye with a warm smile before he follows.

Jason glares at you. all of that sheepishness is sadly short-lived and once they’re well out of earshot, he points a finger in your face. “don’t think you’re special just because you’re whoring yourself out.”

you flinch. he scoffs at the hurt look on your face.

must he remind you? that you shouldn’t get your hopes up? that you know this ritual won’t go anywhere? it’ll end the same as all the others that came before.

“and don’t get your hopes up. they’re not gonna pick you.” he hooks a thumb in his belt, leaning on the door frame.

realistically, you shouldn’t let his words get to you. he’s mean to everyone who isn’t his group of friends. he’s mean to every unmated omega he crosses paths with.

“you’re too…” he looks you up and down, eyes damn near glowing with disapproval at what he sees. “ordinary.”

the word strikes true. tears sting your eyes.

“they probably asked ten other omegas to give them their panties to sniff.” he backs away from your door and chuckles. “don’t be too disappointed when you’re not called to The Selection.”

he slams the door and locks it behind him. leaving you standing in a sea of sorrow. you take in the silence of your small enclosure and take a deep breath, your head tipping back to look at the ceiling as you try to will back the tears.

an arrogant ass he may be but at least he’s truthful. that’s your only consolation. your only reminder that not every omega gets to leave this place. not everyone gets a happy ending.

when you sit down on your small bed and place the box right next to you, you sigh before opening the clasps. immediately, a potent mix of scents permeates all around you.

your body reacts to it faster than your mind can process.

it’s a gut-punch. pure molten heat poured straight down your throat and flowed all the way further down to your cunt. you hadn’t expected the intensity of it, the sheer want to be filled to the brim.

the sudden pulse coming to life between your legs had you whimpering and panting as if you’d just ran a mile. clenching your thighs didn’t do much to help ease the ache. not with your panties clinging to the slick suddenly dripping from your pussy.

you had to put the box away and retreat into your bathroom to calm down. gripping the cold sink and breathing uncontaminated air more so to stop yourself from reaching under your skirt than anything else, but eventually, you had to return to your room.

the box was half opened when you returned. you pull up the lid and peered inside. like you thought, the four massive ziplock bags. each with a hoodie and a shirt inside. all of them were labeled with names.

Johnny was scribbled messily on the front of the one you picked first. his heady scent was faintly earthy with a touch of what you assume is motor oil and gasoline. not bad. he must like cars then. his hands must be rough from all the work he puts in them.

GHOST was written in big block letters and with a small skull face at the bottom right. his clothes were huge. he must be a really big guy. bigger than Johnny even. he smells like gunpowder and sweat, and strangely enough, that doesn’t make your nose wrinkle as it does with every other alpha you’ve come across.

then there’s John. neatly written, but you could tell he doesn’t really care too much about how his letters are formed on paper. you recognize the scent of cigars anywhere with how often the alphas in your facility take part in smoking them every week in their lounge room. your lips purse in contemplation but ultimately decide it’s not that bad. with time, if they decide to take you with them, you might get used to it.  

lastly, Kyle’s name was written in cursive and circled in one big heart. that alone makes forces a giddy smile on your face. you can already tell that he showers more often than the other three. there’s hints of shower gel and cologne alongside the smell of John’s colognes. you like him already.

you liked all of them. you don’t even know which one to start with.

that’s not all, though. there’s snacks too. chocolate bars, bags of chips and three bottles of different flavoured sweet tea. but every muscle in your body stopped when you saw something else. neatly packaged in between all those gifts was a bundle of beautiful red roses.

they’re... this is…

there’s a note between the petals, which you’re scared to even touch. your shaky hands pluck it out and open it to see what was written inside.

It’s a little early but Happy Valentine’s Day to our favourite omega. Looking forward to seeing you at The Selection <3

no. it can’t be. surely not. they’re not doing what you think they’re doing.

you look back to the roses. the gifts. the food. a box filled with clothes from four alphas who express an interest in taking you into their pack. this.

it’s clear, cut and dry what this is.

it’s a courting gift.

panic rises up your throat. it feels more like bile and you think it best to stay in the bathroom, preferably near the toilet in case your stomach decides it doesn’t want to hold its content anymore. you end up standing there, staring at the toilet bowl for approximately four and a half minutes and spend another two taking deep breaths while pacing around the bathroom because your omega is too charged to let you think clearly.

and your clear, rational thoughts tell you to be serious for a second.

usually, one or two omegas are chosen for one individual or one pack. pick too many and you run the risk of creating conflicts because you didn’t allow everybody to get used to each other first before letting the pack settle into a sense of normalcy.

since there are four alphas, it’s likely that each one might want to have their own.

which leads you to believe that there are three more omegas who probably got sent the same package and with the same note. there’s four alphas. surely, they’re not going to be satisfied with just one of you.

one omega won’t be enough to contend with four ruts on differing occasions or worse, four ruts at once if one decides to trigger the other. it’s just not possible if they truly are serious about you.

besides, there has to be some mistake. it can’t be you they want.

it just can’t.

courting gifts usually aren’t exchanged until after the selection process is complete and the pack is certain that they’re keeping you.

this is definitely not something that should be happening right now.

Jason might be right about one thing. they probably did ask a bunch of other omegas for the same thing too. alphas are perverts like that. you’re not special. they probably want to add to their collection of sorts.

and yet, regardless of that fact...

your eyes drift to the hoodie you left on the edge of your bed. its scent calls to you. fervent and sweet, you’re drawn to it. the cold air in your room makes it difficult not to crave any sort of warmth that’s been given so freely.

regardless, of all this logic telling you that you shouldn’t have high hopes for anything, for even daring to think that you’ll ever leave this place.

regardless, you bury your nose in the hoodie and sharply inhale Kyle’s lovely scent and roll around your bed, purring and sighing deeply. he smells like kindness. like the first ray of light after a brutal winter. he smells like everything you’ve ever dreamed of in an alpha who would be willing to take care of you.

whatever the case may be with these gifts, you hope they meant what they said in the note. you yearn to be their favourite, you want them to look forward to finding you.

(and you hope they aren’t disappointed once they do).

four alphas expressing an interest in you is far more than you could’ve hoped for. it will break you when the unfortunate outcome finally rears its head and you don’t get to follow them to their home.

you hope that you’ll still get to keep one of their hoodies once The Selection passes.

in my defense, i was ovulating when this n00dled in my head.

banners by@cafekitsune and @vase-of-lilies

offer a coin to the picklejar

[main masterlist]

[part 2]

[smuttydegenerate]

Soap when you come home.

soap letting out a deep, frustrated groan, and kyle looks up from the half-loaded magazine in his hands. johnny's scratching the shaved side of his head in irritation with one hand, his phone in the other, fingers splayed stiffly against the edges.

kyle tilts his head. "t's wrong, mate?"

"och, it's me hen.," johnny grumbles, "says it's a self-care day." his grip around his phone tightens.

kyle raises a brow, "and since when are you not one to get 'er what she wants?"

johnny shoots him a flat look. "'s no' tha'. last time she went 'n got 'erself fixed up, she came back bald. bald, gaz. went 'n stripped me girl of all 'er hair."

if it'd be anyone, kyle would question what he'd meant by that but after having lived, breathed and bled with johnny, he knows better than to ask stupid questions.

"'m sorry t'hear tha', soap," he drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips.

johnny drags a heavy hand down his face. "so am i, gaz."

he sends the money anyway, a mournful groan escaping him.

"so am i."

[smuttydegenerate]

GAGGED.DECEASED.SHOOKETH!!!!

Pt.3 Continuing this Gaz blurb

Pt.1 Pt.2

MDNI 18+ only

“So like a date?” you replied to Kyle’s text asking if you wanted to go to this fancy steakhouse downtown.

Kyle smirks down at his phone “Ya, like a date. I’ll pick you up tonight at seven if you say yes”

“Of course” you quickly respond.

“What’s got you all happy” Price asks from his desk.

“Ah it’s nothing” Kyle nonchalantly responds.

Price chuckles “It’s a girl isn’t it”.

Kyle nods “Maybe sir”.

“Oh to be young again” price sighs.

You were buzzing with excitement. You had picked out a prefect outfit the accentuated your favorite parts of your body. This steakhouse was definitely fancy. Kyle who is sitting across from you is dressed in slacks and a fitted button up. He looks great, now if only he’d roll those sleeves up so you can see his forearms. He orders a bottle of your favorite wine and before you know it dinner is over and you’re both walking towards your home with arms linked together.

Your back was arched and your fingers weaving in Kyle’s hair as he placed little kitten licks on your clit. A breathless moan escape your lips as his tongue moves down and dips into your tight hole, fucking delicious. Your soft silhouette illuminated by the vintage glass lamp in the living room. The bottle of white wine on the coffee table was empty alongside the two crystal glasses.

“Daydreaming during training, come on now Gaz” soap smirks down at Gaz who’s laying on his back trying to recapture air into his lungs.

“Fuck off soap” gaz wheezed out. Two days ago Kyle failed in his attempt to gain you back, only to discover his own captain was warming your bed. The man that he had deeply trusted. Someone that Gaz to have considered a father like figure, fucking his precious girl. Gaz stands up after regaining his composure, noticing his captain in the corner his eye.

“Fancy a round Captain” Gaz crosses his arms, puffing his chest.

Price looks up from his clipboard “only if you insist Sargent”. Price knows that Kyle is pissed, and as much as Price wants to establish dominance he knows that maybe this isn’t the best idea, to egg him on while on duty. Fuck it he thinks to himself.

They meet in the middle of the sparring mat, Gaz being frustrated makes the first move to which price catches his Sargents hand. Price then twists Gazs arm but he lets go, just so Gaz knows he’s toying with him.

Price rolls his shoulders forward and get back into stance with a smirk “Poor girl was all by herself dolled up just reading a book at the speakeasy. Little angel got real red when I asked if I could buy her a drink.”

Gaz growls “You fuckin knew she was mine”

“Yours? Bold of you to say when my cum was spilling out of her this morning. Boy, you fucked and fled a month before I met her. You were long gone, not as much as a photo left of you in her phone. After all from what you said before, she was never yours.” Kyle throws a swift punch to which Price promptly dodges “I gotta thank you though, you fucked up so perfectly she needed a older man to come in a be her price charming” price smirks as he watches Kyle grit his teeth as he lunged forward towards his captain.

The move catches price off guard causing him to stumble back a few feet. “Atta boy there you go” price mocks him. “I could see why you’d be angry at me of all people for going after her, but Understand this boy shes mine now. Every tight little inch of her is” that’s when Gaz lunges at him, sending them both hurdling towards the ground.

“Oh so you’re enjoying the woman I fucked first” price launches Gaz off him.

Price scoffs “Oh don’t worry, not like you’re big enough to have stretched her out. Sweet thing is like a vice grip”

Gaz sits on the bench of the locker room sore beyond belief. Price had pinned him down into a submission, and it hurt his pride more than it did his shoulder.

Soap walks out of the shower area wrapped in a towel “so… what exactly was that about with price. Because that was a little more than sparring”

Gaz sighs “I went to go talk to her”

Sop cocks a eyebrow “ok, what exactly does it got to do with cap”

[smuttydegenerate]

Wwwoooooowwwww your actually so fucking rude... Like why are you calling me out like this. Lol but same just on my legs. I HATE THE FEELING OF LOTION ON My legs. When I was a kid it for so bad that at one point my skin for so dry I got wounds and it burned to put anything on them 🤣.

tmi!!! i suffer two curses: dry ass skin on my hands and wrists and the hate of the feeling of lotion in my hands. so now i have a wrist that is fucking BURNING because it's dry to the point the skin it's no longer just dry but a superficial wound

[smuttydegenerate]

You're good please take care of yourself. Awesome job!!!!

Sorry for the lack of regular updates this weekend!

My last week was kinda hectic, especially the weekend. I had so much work, assignments, tutoring, exams to prepare, but I have done it all🫶🏻.

So today, I just rested after my classes! I’ll start the updates again tomorrow!

[smuttydegenerate]

Red. That was all Simon could see as he barreled through the barracks, ignoring the concerned onlookers as he slammed open door after door.

He was just washing up for the day, ready to head to his quarters when he’d heard whispers of you being admitted to medical. The words “banged up pretty good” were all he needed to hear before setting off in a panic to find you.

You were everything to him. Simon Riley was a man who swore he’d die alone and be happy doing so, until you came along. You, with your terrible jokes, your witty personality, your loyalty and determination and gods damn your fucking smile. He’d do anything to see you smile.

Love wasn’t something that came easy to Simon, but with you it did. Loving you was as easy as breathing, it was natural. He loved you from the moment he saw you, and would love you until the day he died.

The door to the infirmary flung open, and Simon strode in with purpose, his eyes scanning the entire room. When they landed on you, Simon felt his heart drop, his blood running cold.

“Who did this?” Was all he said, his cold gaze softening ever so slightly as he took in every cut and bruise that littered your beautiful skin. It took everything in him not to yell, to scream.

Your eyes dropped from his, your lips forming a thin line as the nurse beside you finished stitching the large cut that now adorned your shoulder.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, causing you and the nurse to jump slightly.

With a small smile aimed at you, the nurse gave a polite nod to Simon as she ran past, leaving the two of you alone in the now eerily silent room.

“Tell me.” Simon demanded, sinking to his knees in front of you. When you still refused to meet his gaze, he gently rested his index finger on your chin and tilted your head to look at him. His eyes were soft, gentle as he gazed into your own. “Tell me.”

The tenderness in which Simon looked at you had your lower lip wobbling, a soft sob slowly escaping your mouth as you replayed what had happened in your head. “Simon, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. You need to tell me what happened.” His finger gently began to graze your cheek, a tenderness that you’d grown used to over the years with him. A tenderness reserved only for you.

“The mission went south. There was a mole. We got ambushed.” Was all you said, as you struggled to regain your composure.

“Who.”

“Simon, please it’s really okay, I-.”

“Who.”

Your brows furrowed slightly as Simon ripped off his mask, his face now fully visible to you. Concern etched its way across his features as he held your gaze. You knew this was a battle you wouldn’t win.

“Coles. It was Coles.”

“He dead?” Simon asked, his face not showing any of his internal turmoil. If he wasn’t, Simon would make damn well sure he’d suffer for what had happened to you.

You shook your head as your bottom lip trembled once more. “No, but Simon-.”

Simon cut you off with a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin as he murmured, “Sleep in my quarters tonight, yeah? I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for your reply, he strode out of the infirmary, the red in his vision intensifying as he set out to find the mole. Nobody, nobody would harm a hair on his lovers head and get away with it.

Simon would do anything for you, die for you, kill for you. He’d do anything to make sure that beautiful smile of yours was permanently etched onto your lips.

For you, Simon Riley would watch the world burn.

[smuttydegenerate]

Same 😂

this is so stupid I'm sorry LMAO

[smuttydegenerate]

Dating lustful men is doing yourself a disservice because lust is insatiable, it doesn't matter how much it's fed, it is never satisfied. You will never be sufficient to a lustful man, he will always want more, and more. You'll get cheated on, humiliated, and dehumanized constantly, because the lustful man operates from an irrational, urge-based position, not one based on control and integrity.

If you notice him consuming p0rn, constantly becoming distracted by other women, being flirtatious on social media, and constantly asking you to be his object of desire, you will at some point become disappointed when he steps out of the relationship because you couldn't satisfy him. And that is fault on his character primarily, but ultimately is lesson for you to not ignore red flags and to set up boundaries in your relationships.

A man can truly overcome lust, but that is something that needs to come out from him, and most men arrive to this realization late in life after they've wasted their youth going after meaningless s3x and missing on women who could've been their life partners in the process. It's a form of self-sabotage on the man who allows lust to rule his life, and the women who refuses to leave him when he's shown her his red flags.

[smuttydegenerate]

[smuttydegenerate]

First of all.... Who gave you a right to make me blush like this.

The way I religiously stalk your blog should be studied. Anyways love your work 💗

Hope both sides of your pillows are forever cold.

Bye pookie.

WHAAAAT OMG IM SO FLATTERED. Trust, I have blogs that I look at multiple times a day to see if they’ve posted too. And knowing someone does that to me as well literally has me smiling and blushing like a maniac. Like AH, this is so cooooool. This is such a nice feeling, thank you!!! I can’t stop smiling. I’ll probably think about this forever, thanks, hahaha.

BRB just gonna go frolic happily through a meadow.

Also, I greatly appreciate the hope for my pillows to be cold bc that is an amazing feeling as well. I love the cold in general to be honest.

Much thank yous for sending this ask, pooks! I hope for your pillows to be cold as well lol