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pennjammin · 10 months ago

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run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

summary ❥ you babysit for the wealthy single dad who lives across the street. it’s the end of october and his halloween party is the talk of the neighborhood. you’re not invited because the kids are out of town, but you decide to pop up on him anyway, and he shows you just how badly he’s been dying to get you alone without the children.

CONTENT: age gap, 86’d sorcery, dilf!nanami, toys, smut, alcohol, dom!nanami, cunnilingus, afab!reader, fluff, friends to lovers kinda, bossxworker, aftercare, slowwwww burn, reader wears animal ears during sex, breeding kink, spit kink, masochism.

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

p.s. there’s a joke in here involving the color of 🐱; i know everyone’s is not the same color so , fill in the blank for the color that fits yours if u have one LOL

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

You’re making sure the long, fluffy tail poking out of your blue shorts isn’t going to fall out. It doesn’t.

You’re dressed as a fox, but not just any fox. A fox cop. You have on a short blue collared top, matching shorts, and of course you’d be no real cop without your utility belt housing fake handcuffs and a plastic baton. To top it all off, you’re wearing fuzzy fox ears on your head, and sheer tights to cover your legs.

You nod in the mirror, satisfied. But the real test, to you, is if Mr. Nanami will like it just as much.

Mr. Nanami is your employer, but more importantly, your neighbor. You watch his two young children five days a week; sometimes even overnight when he has a particularly busy work day. You consider yourself close with them, but your feelings about Nanami are a little deeper than that.

You’d seen him the first time a little under a year ago, when he’d been out on an early morning jog. From then, on you’d become disgustingly obsessed ever since.

Your schoolgirl pining only gets worse every time you see him, and recently you've even gone as far as trying to shamelessly flirt - but he seems to have absolutely no idea. That is the less painful explanation, the other being that he’s just not interested.

But you’re planning to see if you can get that to change tonight. You always dress sensible in front of his children; this will be the first time he's seeing so much skin. It has to work, right?

Tonight, Nanami is throwing the party of the century. He has house workers of all kinds who serve towers of food and delicious mixed drinks. The cherry is that his entire gated lawn has been decorated to the perimeter of fun inflatables and spooky decorations. You know it's mostly for his kids, whom he goes nothing short of above and beyond for.

However, he had informed you days ago that they would be out of town this weekend - and, even if they were not, he's off work, so he doesn’t need you. This means he also had not invited you to his party.

You clearly still intend to show up unannounced, a bold move on your part.

You lock up your house - a small, co-owned property that truly looks out of place across from Nanami's home - which he technically pays the rent for. You carefully make your away across the overcrowded street full of cars, decorations, and humans who are already half past drunk.

As you walk up the stone steps that lead to his front door, your stomach is keyed up. You shouldn't feel any different than you normally do when coming over for work, but you’ve really let this highly unprofessional crush of yours get out of control.

You make it to the porch. You're unsure if he will even hear the doorbell, but you press it anyway. The door slides open after about ten seconds, as if he has been standing there watching it. You feel your body freeze immediately upon seeing him.

Nanami is towering over you in the threshold. His face lights up almost instantly, but that's not all that has your heart threatening to crack open your rib cage; it's also his delicious white button down, popped open by a few to reveal tiny bits of blond chest hair, and then of course there are the long, white ears on top of his head.

“Why hello, officer, did we get a noise complaint?” He chuckles at his own dad joke before bowing his head in greeting. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. I figured you would be thrilled to not have to look at these four walls for a few days while my children are with... their mother.”

You watch his face drop in disgust at the mention of his ex-wife, but he’s never said anything bad about her. Whenever you’d asked why things hadn’t worked out, he’d said "they just didn't." And that was that, but part of you aches to know what had happened.

It shouldn’t matter. He is not interested in you. He gives you a paycheck, and that is all.

"Well," you begin carefully, "Who would want to miss out on the most exclusive Halloween party of the year?"

This coerces a deep laugh out of Nanami, then he steps aside and allows you to walk in. He is holding a short rocks glass of unidentified brown liquor, and you can smell whatever it is in a cloud around him.

Once inside, Nanami’s voice is quite muffled from the clank of dishes and bustle of workers. The two of you stop to stand in the foyer, a grand crystal chandelier winking at you from above.

"Exclusive isn't the word I'd use," he says, following your eyes as he takes a sip. "Everyone and their mother is here. Literally." He tilts his glass towards an elderly woman who stands next to a redhead about Nanami's age.

You should be laughing at his joke but instead, your stomach knots grow tighter at the reminder of how many people his age are here preying on him, the neighborhood catch, with careers and homes of their own.

Nanami is seven years your senior, you think. No wonder he wants nothing to do with a young, non career-oriented thing like you when he has all of these sophisticated people crawling at his feet.

You can't think about that now, or the courage you’ve spent a week building will cease to exist.

"Heh - well, either way," you continue, "it's a big party. I know the kids aren't here, but-"

"But I'm glad you are," Nanami smiles, his eyelids hanging a little low from the liquor in his system. "You look very nice, darling. I like your ears."

He grins and points to his own headband. A grown and very, very large man dressed as something as vulnerable as a little rabbit has your nerves aflame.

"Hmm, I bet you do," you tease. “Like it so much you had to copy me?”

Nanami makes a disapproving sound with his tongue, leaning forward a bit to be eye level with you. "Copy you? I was unaware that rabbits and foxes were the same animal. In fact," he adds, "if I'm not mistaken, foxes are a rabbit's natural predator."

You had been trying to look away from him now that he has moved so close, but as the last sentence rolls out of his mouth, you make the mistake of looking directly into his eyes - and what you see makes your limbs jelly. Maybe it's your delusions, but he seems to be drinking you up equally as much as he is his liquor.

You laugh to pop the bubble of tension, but Nanami's face remains as still as ice.

"Well, I certainly don't think I pose a threat to you, sir," you say, voice unnervingly dry. "You are twice my size."

At this, his intense stare transitions into a soft smile. "You just have to get my guard down. Then, I'm sure a little thing like yourself would be able to have your way with me."

You blink quickly, assuming you've misheard him. Then again, though, he tends to say things that could be flirty - but he is just a naturally charismatic man. Means nothing.

"Ah," you mumble out, shifting your weight from side to side. You have to find a way to change the subject, but most importantly, you need get his attention off of you. You’d wanted it so bad, now you don’t know how to handle it. As you scheme, he sips his drink again, eyes still watching you over the rim of the glass.

"So... the kids always go with their mom on Halloween?" you ask abruptly.

Nanami quickly swallows his sip before shaking his head. "Well I had them for the Fourth of July, you recall."

You do recall. A little too well. Nanami in nothing but tight, black swim shorts and his signature sunglasses as he flipped meat over the grill - and you playing in his pool with the kids. He’d invited you to celebrate the holiday with him after his kids had begged, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. The memory popping into your head almost makes you not hear what he says next.

"We alternate holidays. So I will have them for Thanksgiving, she for Christmas," he shrugs a shoulder. "I would have traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, but alas. Christmas is always the busiest day of the year for me, so they would just miss out on time with their father anyway. I couldn't ask you to ditch your holiday plans for us, again, either."

He sighs. You feel your heart ache; he cares deeply about his kids, but he is definitely a workaholic. That is why you spend every chance you get at his house… well, that’s mostly why. But even then, you sometimes wish you stayed more to help, because Nanami works tireless double shifts, then spends his off days trying to make up for lost time with the kids.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say, attempting to comfort him. "You're an amazing father who is doing all he can. They love you so much."

He smiles and bows his head politely, so as to say thank you. "They love you as well. Sometimes, I think more than they do their mother."

You swallow a choke, before rutting out, “Surely not."

Before Nanami has the chance to reply, an older woman who you’d come to known as Agnes walks by with a large tray arraignment of bright green cocktails.

“Nanamin!” she shrieks out. “Where would you like me to put these? Very afraid of them falling. There’s drunkards crawling up the walls! I’ve already swept up sixteen broken glasses! Sixteen!”

You and Nanami turn to look at her with an equally astonished expression.

Nanami leans forward a bit to whisper in your ear, “My apologies in advance for her erratic behavior.”

Agnes is still staring wildly between the two of you as you giggle, awaiting further instructions from Nanami.

“Sit them wherever you think is safest,” he says calmly.

She huffs but ultimately takes his word, speeding off with her kitten heels clacking against the marble floor.

Nanami turns back to you and opens his mouth, but another voice cuts him off.

“Nanami, sir!”

You feel a twinge of irritation in your chest, but you really shouldn’t. He is the host and people need his attention. You should have seen this coming.

“Is everything okay?” he questions politely, turning to face the short brunette in front of him, who bats her eyelashes.

“I… I think that someone is fighting outside,” she says quickly, unable to keep eye contact.

Nanami is a smart man, though. “Oh? Well, what shall we do about that?”

“I thought you could run and stop them,” she says, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m in no mood to be in the middle of a brawl,” he says sternly. “Have the butlers stop it, and remove them. You try not to get involved either.”

She huffs and spins on her heel, walking back through the living room with an angry stomp in her step.

Nanami clicks his tongue, “I really need to have her counseled in compulsive lying. She cries wolf so many times a day.”

You’ve never seen her before, she must be new. This makes you jealous all over again. She’s not quite as old as the rest of the workers, but still older than you. The issue is you see yourself in her, the uncontrollable pining over your shared boss. She just makes hers much more obvious.

Nanami clears his throat, and you notice too late how his hand has slithered to the small of your back.

“Perhaps we should escape somewhere more secluded, hm?” he says. “I really am enjoying our conversation. A shame we keep getting interrupted.”

You swallow thickly. The hair on your spine has raised at his sudden contact, making you shiver.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, sir,” you say, trying to hide how dry your voice has gotten.

Not another word is uttered before Nanami is swiftly whisking you off to another room; his hands now free of his drink and instead gently guiding you by his hand placement.

His gaze is not as focused on you as it is leading you both through the overwhelming crowd of people, and to the hall under the stairs that you know for a fact leads to his workspace. He moves his hands into yours as he gently pushes you ahead of him.

You take the lead and find yourself pushing open the big door to his study. Inside is a complete reflection of Nanami, his wealth and his cleanliness. Even his desk is free of papers, or any indication at all that he works in here.

You recall the days he works from home, in this very study, and he'd still be in his work suit, just minus the blazer. You'd let the kids sneak in on him, only once or twice thoughout the day, just to see his smile; and while you’re already there, you'd drop off a cup of hot coffee to help him plow through the rest of his shift.

He shuts the doors behind you both as you run to make yourself comfortable in his desk chair, spinning around like a child.

As you do so, you fail to see or hear his fingers slyly clicking the lock on the door.

“Much better,” Nanami breathes, moving to flick on a floor lamp in the corner, giving the study a soft, warm glow accompanied by the full Halloween moon. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“You, uh,” you clear your throat as you stop spinning in the chair to face him. “You really didn’t have to come in here just to talk to me. You are the man of the evening, you know.”

Nanami rolls his eyes, an out-of-character action you never thought you'd see, but one that looked so tasty, so sultry. God, you’re a pervert in heat - and your sweet, sweet boss is completely oblivious to the kind of horrible thoughts you have daily about him.

Nanami's now staring at you. His mouth is moving, but you have no idea what he had been saying.

"… to spend time with all of those shallow, insolent creatures,” you register, “when I have someone like you here?" He walks over to the desk and leans against it, right next to you now, as he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "We have never just sat down and talked. We always have little people depending on us or wanting our attention. Tonight, I’d like that to change.”

You let his words simmer for a moment. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Mr. Nanami?” you then question.

“What did I tell you about that ‘Mr.’ nonsense?” He frowns. “That makes me feel so old.”

"Sorry, sir," you gulp, not intending to upset him. You just can't help the way 'Mr.' and 'Sir' roll off your tongue, or how bad you enjoy seeing him shift uncomfortably at the use of the names.

"Meanie," he tuts, knocking you playfully with his leg. Another uncharacteristic action.

"What'd I do?" you blink, tilting your head as you look up at him.

"You mean besides drive me insane with your teasing?" he questions, before his eyes widen and he looks as though he's just spilled a secret. "I- wow, I am sorry. That is not what I meant to say."

"I drive you insane?" you echo. "I didn't even think you noticed my… teasing.”

Nanami's face is neutral, but his jaw is working under his skin. "I’m not naive, little fox." He lets out a breath. “This was truly an excellent costume choice.”

He leans forward and flicks the furry ear on your head.

“Thank you,” you smile. “I can’t say the same for yours. You hardly scream innocent bunny.”

“What about me isn’t innocent?” he raises a brow, standing off of the desk.

“I…” you blink as he walks around to the back of the desk chair. “You’re just, um…”

“Fox got your tongue?” he coos, spinning the chair so that you’re forced to face him.

You inhale a deep breath and hold it as heat travels through your stomach and right to the center of your thighs.

“You’re a man who is about his business,” you say. “I imagine you’ve… had a lot of life experiences,” you pause to remind yourself to breathe, but it’s hard because of how ferociously Nanami is staring into your eyes. “So you c-can’t be all that innocent…”

“You seem nervous,” he coos. “Here. Let’s stand up, I’ll sit down. Maybe that will help you to not be so tense, hm?”

Your body obeys before your mind catches on. You’re standing in a beat, and Nanami has replaced you on the chair. Your bottom hits the crease of his large desk, and you slam your hands down on the surface to balance yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, putting a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t mean to imply that you make me uncomfortable, sir.”

Nanami's pupils flash white, but it's gone so quickly, you might have imagined it. "If I do, please let me know immediately.”

“No,” you say, dropping your hand, “I just think we need to get to know each other better, right? Our entire relationship is through the kids. I know that your son’s favorite shade of green is kiwi, but I don’t even know your first name.”

Nanami chuckles at this. “You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He taps your knee. “Kento, silly girl. My first name is Kento.”

"A-And your favorite color?” you continue, trying to ignore how close he’s moved the chair towards you, now that you have fully planted your bottom on his desk.

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

“It’s the color of my favorite thing to eat,” he says, slowly placing his arms on either side of your thick thighs, hands planted flat on the surface of the desk.

You think for a moment. “Strawberry ice cream?”

“No,” he cocks his blond head to the side and his eyes fall on your tights. “Try again.”

You pretend to think, though you fear you may be catching on now. “Hmm, dragonfruit?”

“Nah,” Nanami says, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His pupils have been dilated from the alcohol, but there is an unrelated darkness in his eye now. “Something I don’t even have to swallow.”

You gulp. “Oh,” your suspicions have been confirmed.

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

“Mhmm,” you taunt back. “Well, I suppose I came prepared with your favorite dish, then.”

“Did you?” His hands boldly make their way to the top of your thighs, barely hovering over the skin but enough to make the flesh there light on fire. “Prepared it all nice and pretty for me?”

“Yes sir,” you nod eagerly, feeling your own boldness appear as your knees slide further away from one another. “How do you like it?”

“Extra moist,” he grits hungrily, fingernails curving into your tights and shredding a thick rip! through the material.

You gasp, entire torso lurching forward as he drags the hole bigger and bigger.

“Sorry, little fox. They were in the way,” he shrugs an innocent shoulder. “And what should we do about these shorts? They’re in the way, too.”

“Then let’s get them off,” you whisper, hardly registering that such filth had been uttered.

This truly can’t be happening. Is Nanami… Kento Nanami actually going to eat you out? Are his hands really slithering up your waist and fumbling with the button on your shorts, or are you in some kind of sick daydream?

"Mr. Nanami-"

"Please," he holds up a hand, one still remaining on the button of your shorts. "Kento. Call me Kento."

"Kento," you echo softly, and his eyelashes flutter. “You really want to do this?”

Nanami sucks in a breath. Several moments of silence pass, then his fingers are gently pressing against your chin, and he has risen to tower above you. "Maybe it's the liquid courage in me that's pushing me," he says, "but I’m okay with that. I dream about you on my tongue, night after night. I need you, Y/N.”

Instead of allowing you to reply, Nanami's lips are assaulting yours in a flash. A harsh, irrational kiss from a man who's lost his battle of self control.

Your hands fly up to his face to balance yourself at the sheer force the shock of the kiss has on you. He groans softly into you as your lips mold together, getting used to the shapes of each other’s mouths.

You want to begin deepening the kiss, but Nanami is suddenly pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. You look at his face; for a man who is always so calm and composed, he is flushed and even shaking a little. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

"Did you hear me complaining?" you ask sternly.

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

He wastes no time obeying your command; this time as he kisses you, his hands find the soft skin where your hips crease into your thighs. You’re aware of your thighs rubbing against his stomach as he crawls further on top of you.

You slide your arms up around the back of his neck to hold onto him as his lips work pure ecstasy into your mouth.

You sigh against him and he digs his fingers into your sides to get you to do it again. Now his tongue is in your mouth, softly swirling your own, smacking fiercely on your lips as he does so.

You're panting now, but Nanami is swallowing your breath with every second. He's leaning his weight on his palm, so his body isn't quite attached to yours, but you want to make him lose his balance so he can crash down on top of you. Every moment that you stay like this, your cunt drips wetter and wetter, seeping through your shorts onto his desk.

"So perfect," Nanami utters into your mouth, "s'much sweeter than I deserve."

You frown at his self deprecation but don't comment, instead your hands start sliding down his chiseled back, exploring the deep ridges and shapes of pure, hard muscle.

Then, plop! You blink in shock as his bunny ears have fallen plum onto your face, nearly gauging out your eye.

"Oh," he gasps, breaking away from you. "Forgot about these."

He pulls away from you, standing upright but staying between your legs. You swallow a needy whine at his absence, before sitting up with him, staring expectantly.

"Think they'll look better on you though, huh, darling?" he coos, reaching over your head and plucking your fuzzy ears off. Then, he’s replacing them with his bunny ears. "There, that's more fitting. I feel much more like the hunter than the hunted.”

You tilt your chin defiantly. "Mm, so I'm just an innocent rabbit in the sights of a dangerous hunter?"

“Clever bunny,” Nanami murmurs, leaning forward and catching you by surprise with a wet kiss at the nape of your neck. You shudder. “Time for me to eat my latest catch, hm?”

“I-I guess so-”

“Oh, don't get shy now, bunny,” he mewls against your ear. “Do you want to do this?”

You pretend to consider it, but your dripping hole has already answered for you. "Yes, sir."

Nanami purrs in response and taps your earlobe with his perfect teeth - before you're being shoved back on the flat surface. Three quick beats occur. Beat, shorts off. Beat, tights off. Beat, panties sliding slowly down your legs.

"God," he says, hooking his fingers over the trim of the panties, which are light blue in color, accented by an adorable pink bow in the front. "All this time, I could've had you like this, if only-” he cuts himself off to lean down and place a kiss to your inner knee.

Your nerves send repeated quivers over you. You dig your nails into the desk, but your palms are so sweaty that your hand slips. Nanami catches you, a heavy hand on your lower back, the other hand entangling in your panties and proceeding to rip them all the way off. Your clothes are now in a discarded pile to the right of you, fuzzy tail and ears a reminder of what got you into this position in the first place.

“Well we can make up for lost time now,” you whisper, sliding your feet farther apart until your knees are angled into the air - gaping pussy winking up at Nanami.

His eyes nearly jump from his body as he watches you open up for him, glistening cunt all in his face. He's sinking back down into the chair before either of you really processes it, and his heavy palms fall flat on your inner thighs.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart," he coos, the breath from his words tickling your clit and making you writhe pathetically. "Haven't even touched you yet. Why are you shaking?”

You whine out in embarrassment. Something about your most perverted fantasies coming alive before you, Nanami talking to you like this, and him staring directly at the forbidden parts you'd never thought he'd see, is depleting your confidence.

"What's wrong, bunny?" he asks, reading your expression. "You look like you are second guessing this."

"N-No!" you cry out, making him jump, before you sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. No, I want to. I'm just embarrassed."

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

"Because you're so..." you huff uncomfortably, "fine, and here I am, of course anyone would be embarrassed of their own genitals, y'know I just kind of never expected this and-”

"Y/N," Nanami interrupts. "I've seen plenty of these before; all different types, sizes and colors. I am going to devour you regardless of what you think.”

You swallow thickly. Your head nods like a puppet, though you're unsure if that's you saying you understand, or telling him to go ahead.

While you're deciding, Nanami plants a kiss to your bikini line, then slides his hands to wrap his arms around your thighs so that it's now impossible for you to close them. Your stomach is on fire, and you're on the verge of gyrating your pelvis right into his stupidly perfect face.

"Tell me you want this, bunny," Nanami rasps, placing another loud kiss to your inner thigh.

"I want this," you confirm again, "want you."

You don't have to say anything else because his mouth has already found your clit. Warm breath travels between your folds as he keeps his tongue narrowed out to swirl agonizingly slow circles over the bulb.

Your hips convulse against his strength. It does nothing except prompt Nanami to flatten his whole mouth over your heat and pick up speed with his tongue.

"Oh, ohh," you drawl, your hands leaving the desk surface and going right through his fine hair. His hold on you ensures you can’t fall backwards, but you’re gripping his roots for dear life.

He grumbles against your cunt and you feel it all the way up to your ovulating uterus. The desire to have your womb house more of his children starts to enter your brain and you have to remind yourself that this is just sex.

Oh, but it's so much more than that. Nanami's taking his time to work your body, to know exactly which pace makes you cry out like a pathetic fucktoy, noting when you wriggle under his grip, as he pushes his fingertips into the flesh on your legs.

His warm tongue keeps your puffy lips parted effortlessly; lathering you up with his saliva, drinking in the fluid your body creates more of each second.

You sit up farther to look down at him; his eyebrows are furrowed and focused, his cheeks hollowed as he treats your twitching clit like his tongue’s dance partner.

He swirls, flicks, slurps - each variation unlocking a new noise from you as you fight back your orgasm.

As you watch him, your fucked-out, needy brain begins to tell you would give him whatever he wanted in this moment; six children and a house from scratch if that's what he requested. Because he deserves it; the way his tongue’s now dipping slightly into your desperate hole, making your hips jerk from the desk until he counter-forces them with his hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps, grazing his teeth over your clit.

You can’t even speak; he’s eaten your voice right out of you. His head shakes side to side as he plants his mouth back on you and peers up through his blond lashes, daring you to pull that stunt a second time.

Your hands are still deeply entangled in his roots, but at this point you can't keep your eyes in the front of your head. Your head lolls back on your neck as your hips twitch with an unholy amount of momentum. Your moans are growing dangerously loud; knowing full well there's an entire party nearby, as well as the possibility of nosy maids. Not that either of you care.

"Kento, s-so good," you lament, bucking your hips into his chin as if you could chase more pleasure than he's already giving you. The heat in your stomach is the first indication that your pleasure is morphing into an orgasm, but you don’t want to cum yet.

You want to try and run again, just to give yourself a little time to catch up…

The minute Nanami feels your hip bones sliding away from him, he pulls his mouth off of you; your orgasm slipping away. You take a deep breath in regret.

“Someone must not want to cum,” he taunts, keeping his mouth close to your trickling cunt. “Need you to stay still.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

“Try for me?” Nanami requests softly, lifting your thighs into the air before plopping your feet flat on his shoulders.

He plants a heavy kiss to your clit after the adjustment in your position and you dig your toes into his back.

“F-For you,” you repeat mindlessly, brain officially scrambled like a breakfast platter.

“Mmh-” Nanami grunts, planting his fat tongue back between your slick folds, working his jaw intensely to finish pulling the orgasm out of you. He sticks the narrow tip back at your hole, flicking the rim of the inside as if it’s his purpose for living.

Your toes lift into the air as Nanami tests your flexibility, pushing your knees next to your ears. With the pressure built up in your stomach, you barely have time to mutter out the announcement of your orgasm before you're cumming all over his tongue and clenching your walls around the wet muscle.

"Give it to me, bunny," he moans, words muffled because of the way you're gripping his tongue with your pussy.

You keep shaking for a solid thirty seconds, because he is refusing to take his tongue out of you. When finally you’ve calmed to a slight twitch, he removes his face from between your thighs and the entire lower half of his face glistens in the light.

"That's one," he murmurs to himself, crawling back over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. "You did so well. You taste so sweet, bun.”

"Can I return the favor?" you ask needily, dragging your palm down his chest.

He grinds his pelvis across your lower half, so that you can feel the sheer length of his bulge beneath his pants. "What for?"

Your eyes widen at just how large it feels; surely it's smaller than it appears.

"Wanna please you, sir," you babble out, watching his eyebrows furrow at the self-proclaimed pet name.

"Hm, think that ship sailed long ago,” he chuckles, rubbing his clothed dick against your inner thigh this time, and now, you take notice of the warm trail of precum that’s leaked through his pants onto your skin.

You dig your nails into his chest instead of replying. He bites back a groan and kisses your neck.

“I’m going to have to restrain you if you want’a keep being so touchy," he whispers sternly.

"I do have handcuffs," you say, following it with a giggle. Though you’re only half joking.

"That's cute," he mewls. "You think I need handcuffs to restrain you?" He pauses. "What's that you said? That I'm twice your size?"

You swallow thickly, remembering that you had, in fact, said that.

"So I can, and will easily pin you down, bun," he continues. "Don't act up, and I won't have to, yeah?"

You wish you can say you won’t, but if he thinks you dislike the idea of being pinned down, he must not be faking his innocence, like you’d thought.

A moment later, he's standing away from you, and his hands expertly unbutton his shirt. You watch him with desire, and he smiles a little shyly at you as he shrugs off the garment and tosses it to the floor.

“Funny, you’ve seen me shirtless before,” he says suddenly. “Why do I feel a bit nervous about it this time?”

You giggle and cock your head to the side, legs still spread wide. “Should’ve always felt nervous. I’m a huge pervert, y’know.”

Nanami dips his head before coming back to be close to your body again, his fingers mindlessly tugging on the hem of your shirt now.

“I know,” he whispers. “A little minx, you are.”

“Took you long enough to realize it, hm?” you tease as you lift your arms to assist him in removing the shirt. But you are caught off guard when he doesn’t continue.

"You're still sure you want to do this?" he questions, changing the subject. “I'm sorry. I'm going to ask a hundred times, it’s just a habit.”

"Yes, Kento," you rasp frustratingly. "Do I have to get on my knees and beg to be fucked for you to get it?"

He blinks, stunned, as if that is not something he ever considered; but does sound appealing to him.

"No," he says quickly, slowly lifting your shirt further over your body. "How did we end up here, hm? Was this your plan from the moment you crashed my Halloween party?"

"Uh-uh," you say innocently, as he pulls the shirt over your head. Now you sit completely naked in front of him - save for the bunny ears on your head.

"I get the feeling you're a big, fat liar," he teases, leaning back over you, now your stomachs are touching and everywhere your skin meets is tingling. "Didn't I tell you to be a good girl? Good girls don't lie."

“‘M not lying," you argue. "Admit you were over here waiting for me to show up all night."

"Maybe I was," he murmurs, dragging his top teeth over the connection between your neck and your shoulder before planting a wet kiss on your collar bone. "And you came for me, like always."

A gasp erupts from your throat and Nanami cuts it off by sliding his hand there. He uses his fingers to apply the gentlest amount of pressure to the sides of your neck and your body arches against him.

"Tell me if anything I do is too much for you, little fox," he coos in your ear before dropping his hand from your neck and standing back straight to quickly unbuckle his belt.

He slides the garment out of his belt loops, and discards it to the side, on top of your clothes. So in other words: close by.

"Kento," you pant, "please."

"Please what?" he questions, raising a brow innocently as he pops open the button to his tight pants - visibly taking a deep breath as his bulge pokes free.

"You're dragging this out," you whine. "I've needed you for so long. This is torture."

"So what?" he shrugs, allowing his pants to fall to the floor, where he steps out of them.

"I..." you cut yourself off with a frustrated grunt.

"You said please, but you aren't using your words, little fox.” He slides his body back over yours - his boxers now being the only barrier between you. "What do you want?"

"You, your cock, your mouth," you pant all of it out in one quick sentence. "I... I just need you inside of me, Mr. Nanami."

Your breasts rub against his hard chest, teasing your achingly hard nipples. Just so pathetic. Can’t control yourself. Your brain's swirling with desire and ecstasy for him. If he can't read your mind, you're sure he can see it in your face.

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice returning to its usual softness, "you got me. All yours."

He tugs his boxers down quickly, desperately. Now your hips are aligned to each other's. He's still hovering, his cock not even touching you yet. He slides a hand between your legs as his other keeps you steady, gripping harshly on your hip which is sure to leave a delicious bruise.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he drags his mouth across your jaw before attaching his lips to your neck. His fingers gather the drip from your hole, and then he slides them up through your folds and to your clit. He swirls the fingers softly, keeping his ear right next to your mouth so that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your legs shake against his ribs while you moan for him, and he grunts as he takes in all of your body's reactions to his touch.

He goes to try and put a finger in your cunt but you grab his wrist. He does not argue with you, which should be a red flag, but you think you’ve won until he takes the hand he had been using to play with you and grips your wrist, yanking it back, and your entire body goes falling against the desk.

Somehow, both of your wrists are being pinned to the wood in one large hand now. You whine and squirm under him, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs his cock.

He takes the heavy tip and taps it against your clit several times, each time causing you to gasp and arch against him.

"That's right," he whispers above you. "No escaping now, bun."

You blink up at him, lifting your hips to grind your pussy on him, which causes his lips to part and his eyebrows to furrow.

You open your mouth, tongue flying out, wanting to appeal to another twisted fantasy. “Need your spit,” you mumble shyly.

He seems to ponder for a moment before he realizes what exactly it is you are asking, and a moment later he is leaning forward, dripping a warm glop of saliva from his mouth down your throat.

“Mmh-” you moan as you swallow happily, before looking down between your legs where he is finally done lubricating himself on your juice. He's staring at you hopelessly, as if he’s thinking that putting his cock in you isn't going to be enough.

“So nasty,” he coos, “ready for me, sweetheart?”

"Hngh- please," you beg.

Not a second later, hot pressure is at your hole. Nanami slides his hips upward to push himself deeper, deeper, deeper - the girth feeling like it's going to simply rip you in half.

You shriek and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. It doesn't.

You feel so embarrassed as he takes his free hand to lift up your left thigh, because pain shoots up through your stomach - and not the good kind.

"Ah- wait," you cry out, eyes falling open.

Nanami stops immediately. "What's the matter?"

"It... it hurts," you admit shyly, biting your lip. "Wh-Why d'you have to be so big?"

"Why d'you have to be so tight?" he chuckles back, but carefully slides out of you. "Hang on. I know what will help, little fox."

He pulls away from you, letting go of your wrists to lean over and dig into a random drawer in his desk. You have no idea what he could possibly be doing until he stands back straight, a hand still holding up your leg, while the other holds a small, light pink, bullet-shaped rubber object.

"Brand new," he says, eyeing it as he rotates it between his fingers. "Just put batteries in it."

You swallow as you realize what this implies. He knew he was going to fuck you - or at least, that he was going to use this toy on you at some point. Or, a third worse thing: it hadn't been for you at all.

You don’t want to think about that possibility, though.

He hands the little toy to you, a small buzz coming from it already.

"Hold it for me," he instructs. "I need my hands to keep my prey from running."

You gulp and do as he says, and again he is taking his cock head and pushing it against you, before it slides through the gummy entrance and you cry out again.

You hold the toy to your clit and the feeling travels straight through your veins. You focus on the vibrations and before you can even inhale again, your insides are completely full.

"Deep breaths, bun," he grunts, "feel her o-opening up… now.”

Did he just stutter? Kento Nanami, who's always so composed. You'd made him lose his wording. You.

Nanami takes his hands and pulls your knees up, holding them to his sides, while you keep your hand occupied on the little bullet between your legs.

The combination of the toy plus his cock filling you up and molding your walls against it has you aching to spill over, already.

Now that the searing has begun to dissolve, his cock is gliding effortlessly inside of you - feeling as though the organ was crafted to fit you perfectly. Your juices cover every inch of him, delicious squelches creating a symphony with your moans as Nanami's pace quickens.

He has his hands still pressed on your thighs but he leans forward and gently pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. You don't know what to do with your free hand, so it ends up on his back, nails mercilessly breaking open his skin. He hisses and nips your nipple between his teeth.

"Fuck. Me," he groans, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. You want to make a comment about how you already are, but he just looks so fucked out - so vulnerable. Lips puffy and wet, eyes shut tight, hair dangling over his forehead.

He’s ruined.

He claws his fingers into your outer thighs. His fingers dig so hopelessly into you as his cock swirls your insides, his hips now moving in a rhythmic wave motion.

Your hand falls away from your clit with the toy and you hardly notice that it's gone because now, his pelvis is brushing over it, sweat practically gluing the two of you together.

"Aw," he purrs, and you look up to see that his eyes are staring directly between your legs. "You’re creaming all over me. Shit - your cunt looks so good, swallowing me up.”

Your face heats and you take your hands to grip his arms, as he's now drilling into you so torturously that you're gliding up the desk - the sweat on your back making your skin slick. He notices you're moving away and shifts his hands to grab your hips, holding you down onto him, and now his fat tip is violating your cervix.

"H-Hah Kento, ngh - God," is all you can manage to say, but there’s nothing holy about what his cock is doing to you, as he angles himself upward, attacking your uterus from a new direction.

You shriek, so horribly loud. It sounds like a horror movie - which is fitting. You’ve nearly forgotten that it’s Halloween night; the moon full, your passions like the tides, being pulled to their peak.

You desperately feel a needy confession on your lips but you know that now isn't the time. You can't love a man you don't date... right? But you definitely love the way he's tearing up your insides, sure to leave you swollen and limping.

"I don't remember telling you that you could remove your hand," he snaps, realizing you’ve removed the bullet, "put it back. Now."

You shake your head, begging for mercy. "Was too much, c-can't take it."

"Yes you can," he whispers, leaning forward and hovering his mouth over yours, cognac-scented breath teasing your parted lips. "Put it back, or I stop."

You whine and obey, the vibration revisiting your clit making your body convulse against him.

"Mhmm, like that sweetheart," Nanami coos, staring at you as your face twists every couple of seconds from the introduction of new kinds of pleasure. "Stick that tongue back out for me."

Your mouth is open, drool practically spilling out of the sides in a millisecond. He's spitting another alcoholic saliva drop into your mouth the next.

His breath is ragged as he drags out, "Thought I knew everything. But y’teaching - hah - me new things. Like how I can never live without your pretty pussy, ever again."

You quiver your lip and dig your nails into his back again, ready to cum on his cock.

"S-Stop talking like that," you grit out. "G-Gonna cum if you don't stop."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he questions harshly. "You can cum over and over. I’m not finished with you."

You shake your head, but before you can fire back, Nanami is suddenly sliding himself out of you. You panic and sit up, staring at him with wide eyes as he drops to sit on the chair.

His hands come up to grab your hips roughly, and he's effortlessly pulling you down off of the desk. Your stomach makes contact with his thighs as he lays you over his lap like a disobedient child.

"Nanami?" you breathe, but he doesn't seem to hear you at all.

"We just needed to pause for a second," he says softly, running a hand down your spine and over the hill of your ass. His voice is very misleading, as are his gentle gestures; you have no idea what's coming.

"N-No," you whine, "I was so close."

"But, naughty bunny, didn’t you tell me to stop?" he questions, distracting you from the fact that his fingers are sliding between your asscheeks and down to your swollen hole.

You jerk in his lap as two of his fingers glide down your slick, parting your thick lips, repeating the process several times just to watch you squirm.

“Y-Yes, but-”

“What’d I tell you about lying?” he grits, and a blink later his fingers have parted from your skin.

You turn to scold him and his hand cracks down on the back of your thighs.

You yelp, but the action exhilarates you in some kind of disgusting way.

“Oh, and here’s another for calling me Nanami,” he spits, another crack landing on your backside but this time - higher, and harder.

“K-Kento, I’m sorry,” you whine, but you truly don’t want it to stop. Your fingers dig into his leg and he hisses, his cock jerking against your stomach as his body responds.

“How sorry, bun?” he coos, voice faking softness before another pop! of his palm stings your skin.

“I’ll be good, promise,” you whisper, arching your hips up to encourage another smack.

“You like this, don’t you, naughty bunny?” he realizes suddenly, and you try to shake your head in denial - but he’s caught on. “Hm. I’ll only accept your apology if you give me two more orgasms. Deal?”

“Two?” you cry. “I-I’ve already had one!”

“Good things always cum in threes, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand over the pretty hand-shaped welps he’s left on your skin. “You can give it to me. You want to be good, don’t you?”

You don’t know when the shift happened, but you loved it. You loved how he was letting his soft facade crumble to the ground so that he could truly slap you around like you were just a hole. Truthfully, that’s all you wanted to be. Wanted to let him take out the stress of being a single father on your guts, fill you up with more babies to care for, and then kiss you on the forehead when it was all done.

Pathetic. This is still your employer, your boss. And not to mention how much older he is. You don’t care, but you’re unsure if he does.

“I wanna cum again, please,” you beg, wriggling your ass up to show him you still needed punishment.

He groans before his two thick fingers are pressing between your lips and then, shoving through the soft ring at your center.

Your body shamelessly arches, but he allows your arms to stay free, clawing into his skin wherever you can get a grip.

Nanami is making his own noises above you but you’re on the verge of tears, wailing and carrying on as he fucks you with his fingers, curling the tips into your squishy ridges to try and drive the cum out of you faster.

“Maybe we should get one of those tails with a plug,” he comments, tone implying he’s thinking out loud. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you in your cute little tail while I fuck you.”

“Hngh - no, mmh…” you don’t even know what noises to make anymore. Words escape your brain.

Nothing but mush and the burning of your approaching orgasm are on your mind.

“Hold it in for me,” Nanami requests suddenly, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for it, sweetheart.”

“God,” you shake your head and clench your thighs, but Nanami’s strong hand forces them back apart.

Your toes curl on the other side of the chair, your head falling forward. The pulse in Nanami’s cock is still drumming against your abdomen, as if knocking on your tummy to threaten you to hold your orgasm.

“I-I can’t,” you say, “Please, can I-”

“Cum.”

Nasty, wet squelches don’t stop as your body sends you over the edge. Your vision blacks and you shake so hard that you nearly roll right to the floor.

He hums approvingly, slowing his fingers down as you clench around them. “Good job, bun. Only one more to go.”

“I can’t take another,” you shake your head, as he gently guides you up into a sitting position on his lap.

“You’re so strong,” he says, “the perfect person for me. The way you always take care of me and the kids, how you fit so effortlessly into our little family. I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. Let me repay you for all that you do for us. Make you feel good.”

You hadn’t expected this little speech. It almost brings you to tears as Nanami gently rubs your back, sliding his free arm underneath your legs to lift you princess-style back onto the desk.

“Say something,” he begs, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to be good for you,” you grin softly, and he smiles back as he runs his hands gently over the top of your legs. “But you want to be good for me. Which is it?”

“Both,” Nanami whispers. “I told you that you already do everything that keeps me content. Now, I want to please you.”

You realize that he is passing his power off to you. Letting his dominance slip through his fingers and right into the palm of your hand. You think you can handle being in control for your final orgasm, so you grip him harshly by his cock and scoot your ass to the edge of the desk.

He moans so softly that it could have been a whimper. You take his curvy length and drag it up to be aligned with your hole.

“Is your cock alone gonna please me, hm?” you purr, swirling your hips to tease his cock head, salty precum spreading across your hole.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he mutters, body lurching forward as if he’s the overstimulated one.

“Prove it,” you quip, shoving him back inside of you before pushing your hips down onto him.

You furrow your eyebrows to try and pretend the pain of him entering isn’t still intense. You lift yourself off of your palms and feet, using them to fuck down onto his twitching cock.

“Hah - Y/N,” he speaks your name in two sultry syllables, putting his hands on the desk to fully release his control as you use him.

“Baby, I need to fill you up,” he continues, “b-but if you don’t want me to…”

“Yes,” you say, “want me to have your babies, Mr. Nanami?”

“Oh,” he whimpers, “shit. Shit, don’t say stuff like that.”

You whirl your hips on him in the shape of an ‘O.’

“Want to breed me?” you continue. “Make me all big and pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps suddenly, hand clamoring down on the belt that is to your side, before he grips the garment in his hand. He sits up from where he’d been leaning on you, before taking the leather and slithering it around your neck, pulling it through the buckle, and yanking it towards him like you’re just a pathetic bitch on a leash.

“You had your fun,” he grits, “now you need to remember your place, bunny. I’m going to fill you to the brim until your cunt can’t take anymore and it drips back out of you, got it?”

“Mmh,” you pull against his belt as your hips are no longer the once controlling the pace. “Nanami, n-nooo…”

Your voice tapers off as he fucks you, fucks you so good and hard and mean until you’re drooling and crying and shaking and hissing and-

“Cumming!” you scream, but Nanami shows no signs of slowing down.

“That’s it,” he says. “Number three. What about four?”

“Y-You said…”

“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to lie around here?” he chuckles, a deep hypnotic sound that vibrates against your chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna - ngh” and one viscid moment later, Nanami begins to shudder, and it is the beginning of the end.

You cannot tell if you are mourning or rejoicing the conclusion of this insane chain of events, but you forget all about it when Nanami is spurting hot semen all over your taut, spongey walls - that are now sore and quivering from the excessive abuse.

Your name leaves his lips in between the sultry noises he makes, and his body jerks on top of you until he’s finished spewing his load. Now, he stands in front of you with his head dipped down as he pants for several seconds.

“Do you understand how addicting you are?” are the first words that leave his lips after he is able to drag his head up to look at you.

You’re focused on your own huffing as you try to come up with a witty response, but with your brain so fucked out, the only thing you can mutter is “Oh, Kento.”

He nestles his sweaty face into your neck and plants a feathery kiss there, reminding you that he is still the same gentle Nanami that tucks his children in bed at night and drinks green tea in the garden.

He is everything you have dreamed of, but the sex had truly sealed it. Now, as he slips out of you and his cum follows soon after, you feel your post-high clarity morphing into embarrassment at the fact that all you’d been feeling is lust; Nanami deserves so much more than that, including his recognition as a father.

“Why are you staring at me? Have I still got your nectar on my face?” he jokes, and you admire his ability to loosen the tension.

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I just think you are amazing. I don’t want you to think I really did just come for some cock.”

At this, he laughs so hard that his torso shakes. You smile, as it is rare to hear, and you are the cause of it.

He grabs his shirt and begins to use it to wipe himself off, then does the same for you, his movements intentional and gentle as he cleans you up, rubbing all of the puffy, red reminders on your body softly.

“I don’t think that,” he says with a crooked smile. “But whatever the case, I do hope that things have… changed between us.”

You scoff. “I should hope so,” you tease, tilting your head as he stops his hands on your body. “I hope you’re not going around making every person who comes near you cum three times in one sitting and expect to just be friends.”

He grins. “Nah, that treatment is reserved for you, bun.” His hands slide up your hair and pat the fuzzy ears on your head. “We should keep these around, though. But I’d like to take you out before we use them again.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring his face to yours, planting a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course. You did say good things come in threes,” you grin. “The sex was one. The date will be two. What’s three?”

And your question gets answered nine months later, when Nanami proposes to you on a white beach in another country.

…Right before you go into labor.

But of course, once the baby is out, it’s time to start on number 4 the following Halloween.

A/N 2.0

ty all sm for the love on this series so far i’m rlly havin the time of my life writing all these twisted monster-fucker stories ^.^

~ pennjammin

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #kento nanami #nanami my love #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #dilf nanami

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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

Text

Pretty Please

Pairings- Yandere Caleb x F! reader

Warnings- MDNI/NSFW- a sick fic, you're literally sick from taking care of Caleb (based on the memory in the game) but Caleb knows just how to make you feel better. Don't read if not your thing- he's obsessive asf as we love him, oral sex (f receiving) low-key yandere behavior, Caleb being slutty for you even though you're the only girl he's been with, sweet and also freaky asf - 2k WC

Just me being actually sick ( I have the flu ughh ) and writing this as a completely self indulgent thing- comments and rbs appreciated if you enjoy

You're sick, really sick, after nursing Caleb during a really bad flu, now you've gone and caught it yourself. Ever the caretaker, Caleb is gently spooning some broth into your mouth, holding you up gently, his big hand supporting your head. You hate how good it feels, how good it felt laying against him when he held you all night.

You're both too close, you know that, childhood friends forever, fuck you are all each other even has these days, you never want to ruin it, but your flushed state and addled mind make it worse. You're too sick to ignore how good his cool fingers feel, too weak to pretend you don't crave him all over you.

You take a shaky breath as he puts an electolyte drink to your lips now, you wrap your mouth around the rim of the cup, sipping just so, lip print left on the beveled glass. "I told you, Pip squeak, you were gonna catch it, but someone is stubborn."

You manage a cute little glare, and he laughs at it, as he sets the drink down, running his fingers over your hot forehead, frowning a bit. Even with the medicine you were still running a pretty high fever, breaking just a little sweat that's shimmering on your skin. He can't help but think how pretty you are even sick, but fuck when weren't you?

In his bed, in his arms all night, like pure torture, trying to focus on caring for you instead of doing what he really wanted, to have you wrapped around him, to forget anyone exists but him. He is even taking the slightest pleasure with you depending on him so much right now, selfish but how can he not feel that way, when he's so desperately in love?

"I refuse to be sick." You inform him, making him chuckle, his dark lavender eyes lighting up just a bit, mischievous in their glint.

"Oh, yeah? Think you're so invincible." His voice is a comfortable taunt, a tease as he brushes a droplet off your lips, making you pause then.

"I am! I'll tell it to-" you cough just a bit. "To fuck off."

"I bet you will." He's brushing your hair back, so close now, you pause, looking up at him, breath so quick it makes your chest rise and fall.

Why are you wet while you're sick?

Fuck.

"It's all your fault, you know, playing doctor." You pout now, but your eyes flutter shut as he leans over you, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss, eliciting a little whimper that makes him pause, kissing it again. "Feel good, honey?"

"Honey... not Pip squeak?" He chuckles again, looking at you as he runs his thumb in a circle over your flushed cheek, damn near burning to the touch.

"The noise you made," his voice drops to a husky whisper, straight nose damn near brushing yours, and your hands find their way to his soft blue shirt, thinking wildly he'd kiss you then. "It was as if... you really liked it, did the kiss make you feel better?"

You nod then, sighing, and he trembles in his grip of you, desire making him ache. "You can't kiss my lips, you'll get sick again."

"You want me to?" His whisper was shocked, you turn your face then, but he presses a kiss on your hot cheek now, making your grip tighten on his shirt. "You're sweet when you're sick. Look at you, weak like a little kitten."

"Jerk." He laughs again, pecking a kiss on your neck, and that's when Caleb loses control, the insane control he's always kept with you, when he brushes lips on your sweet flesh, and you cry out, and he can feel that heat between your thighs. "Caleb..."

"Yeah? Feeling better yet?" He kisses down your collarbone, tugging at the shirt you wore, swallowing you since it's his shirt, and he wonders if you're wearing anything else.

His bed.

His clothes.

His.

You're his, you're supposed to be his, fuck.

When his hand slips down, brushing your breast, he watches your nipple press against the thin white fabric, making him let out a shaky, heavy breath, and your hand slides up, palm over his racing heart. Caleb has an athlete's heart, but it's fucking racing like crazy, you feel it, eyes locking.

"Where do you need me to kiss it better, Pip squeak? You just tell me."

"Caleb..."

"Aren't I always here for you? Don't I always take care of you?" You swallow now, nodding, as his eyes get darker, plump lips parting, looking up under his dark long lashes as he kisses your nipple over the shirt, and your back arches, cunt throbbing again.

"You always take care of me." He moans again, hands sliding down to your waist now, then your hips.

"So let me make you feel better. Make you feel so fucking good."

"How?" Your innocent whisper almost ends him, he's never asked you outright but always hoped you would wait for him.

"Has anyone kissed you..." his fingers drift down until he finds your slick cunt, your gasp of pleasure making his cock throb and leak sticky precum. "Here?"

"No... you know I..."

"Never like anyone enough to?"

"You're... usually annoying me too much for me to notice anyone." He smiles against your skin, yanking the blanket off you and leaning back on his knees, looking down at you as he slips that big shirt up your thighs.

"Oh, is that it? Just annoying?" He bites his lower lip when he sees it, your bare glistening cunt, emitting even more heat than your fevered skin. "Fuck..."

"You're annoying and... clingy and... attention- ah!" He scoots down the bed, spreading your thighs, slipping that shirt up and pressing a hand on your tummy, breath so close to your cunt you can't take it, gripping the soft blankets under you. "C-Caleb!"

"So no one has kissed you... right..." His lips smack as they press a kiss to your clit, and you weakly jerk, body still aching from the fever now. "Here?"

"No one." Your answer ends him, he rests his head on your inner thigh, trying to fucking compose himself, rigourous military training couldn't prepare him for the scent or taste of you- of course he'd stolen many panties- but the source was even sweeter. "Are you sure it'll um... make me feel better?"

"Well if I kiss your other lips you think I'll get sick, right?" He asks casually, pulling your folds apart and breathing against your tiny clit, making it twitch as he smirks just a bit. "You tell me if it makes you feel better, I'll always make you feel better."

You nod weakly, and soon Caleb, the closest person in the world to you, is lapping his long pink tongue up your slit. Your thighs close, earning a firm smack to them that stings.

"Hold them open." That commanding voice, the military voice of his that makes you ache, you immediately agree. "Good girl."

Good girl!?

You're done, when Caleb slips his tongue up your slit now, juices gushing out of your hole, which he hungrily fucking laps up, as you're shaking, desperate for more. Your hands entangle in dark brown silky locks, just making him moan when your nails press his scalp, when you pull, and he flicks his tongue again.

"Ah!" You're shaking, weak and exhausted, like he's sapping the last bit of hydration from your body, but it feels so fucking good you can't take it.

"This helping, honey? Feel better yet?" You shake your head, earning his grin, you feel every line of his teeth against your plump lips, jerking your hips as he flicks the tip of his tongue up again on your engorged clit. "You need more, then ask for it. How do we ask nicely huh?"

"Pretty please." The words ruins him, fuck you ruin him, he grips your ass then, dragging you closer, and starts eating your pussy in earnest, in ways he's only ever dreamed of, better than lapping your soaking wetness off your panties, better than anything. The first time he's finally gotten the girl of his dreams against his face, and you're falling apart for him.

He feels so good, tongue slipping inside gummy walls that convulse as your hoarse voice echoes in Caleb's spacious room, and the sounds of him drinking you up are fucking obscene, lewd, the squelching wetness mixing with his moans as he laps at you. His fingers press into the plush of your thighs, leaving bruises he hopes stay, and so do you, as you're arching your hips up, weak but willing to give him all of you.

Caleb's grinding his cock against his mattress, aching to slide it in, and fuck he'd love that, to take you, make you fully his, but he knows you'll need energy for that. So for now he murmurs - "Cum for me, would you? You'll feel so much better, won't you? Let me take care of you."

You manage a nod, then Caleb sinks a finger in your tight entrance, the stretch and how full you are too much, he grins, sighing, eyes so dilated they're black with desire, damn near cumming as he presses up, finding your spot, and your body responds violently, you feel it all fall apart, almost hurting with how weak and sore you already are, the pleasure so intense you can't see.

"Caleb, m'gonna-"

"Cum, pretty, lemme drink you all up, hmm?" You're ended, cumming so hard you almost faint, as you feel lightheaded, ears ringing when he laps at your clit and presses a fingertip in that spongy spot, and when you do, you gush so much he has trouble drinking you all up. Dripping down his face, down to the dark sheets underneath you, screaming out so weakly the last of your voice is gone.

"Oh my god..." You're struggling as he presses one more kiss on your pussy now, then your inner thigh, running his fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you twitch, crying out with a voice almost gone.

"Feel better, don't you?" He asks, leaning over you, strong muscles of his arms tense and defined, and you feel it, his hard cock hot and heavy under his sweats, as it rests between you. "Answer."

"Y-yes. But Caleb we..." You swipe some of your glistening cum off his chin, flushing furiously, as he smiles, brows lowering, so dangerous then, he's so fucking dangerous. Your body has used so much you feel exhausted, eyes fluttering shut as he leans on an elbow, brushing your hair back. "We just..."

"I took care of you, I made you feel good. Didn't I say I always will?" He adjusts your shirt now, helping you sit up once more, and you eye his lips.

"Then kiss me."

"Kiss you hmm? You're so greedy, you're gonna get me sick again?" You just nod, energy seeping from your sick body, and he does just that, kissing you, and he grips you so tightly then, shaking with the effort it takes not to fuck into you. "God, taste yourself, don't you?"

"Y-yes..." You hide your face against his chest then, as he holds you close, stroking your hair.

"You're cute I swear, I'd give you anything you ask." He will give you everything, in time. For now, he knows what's best, pulling back and covering you again, brushing your hair gently. "You need to hydrate, you've... lost a lot."

"Oh my god." He's chuckling a bit now, eyes bright, and you feel yourself wanting to tell him everything, but for now he's helping you drink, and then giving you medicine, before holding you against his chest. You drift off quickly, and he smiles as he thinks of how you're going to have to extend your trip, he doesn't think you'll be feeling good enough yet, and he will take care of you, no one else can quite like him.

Had a few requests for more Caleb, I am in LOVE with him during this event my goodness, I am down to write more if you all want! Hope ya'll enjoyedd this was somehow cute and filthy lmao.

perm tags- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @raendarkfaerie @shokosbunny

#yandere caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb smut #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads smut #divider by omi resources #yandere lads #Caleb drabble #lads drabble

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trashytracktales · 4 months ago

Note

GIRL DONT HOLD BACK

WRITE THE LANDO NORRIS HELMET SMUT

Finders keepers | LN⁴

🟢 summary ──── A moment of boredom turns into a game of control and restraint, with Lando pushing boundaries neither he nor his girlfriend expected on such a busy day.

🟢 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🟢 rating ──── explicit

🟢 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, smut, swearing, semi-public setting, soft!dom Lando, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, overstimulation, messy finish, Lando low-key losing it.

🟢 word count ──── 3.3k

🟢 date ──── Mar. 4, 2025

🟢 a/n ──── This one has been HIGHLY requested after one of you guys sent in this ask, so I shall deliver. I hope you enjoy it as much as you imagined & can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍

Also, yes. This is the second one-shot of the day, because I ACCIDENTALLY posted this Charles Leclerc piece earlier. It’s very short and I was supposed to post it after this one OOPSIES get greedy & go check it out. Thank you, love you all 💋

THERE IS HARDLY enough room for more than two people in the driver’s room. A physio table is pushed against the wall, a couple of chairs sit tucked under a desk covered in notes, post-its and water bottles, and a row of plastic shelves is holding some race suits, a change of clothes and toiletries, and a spare helmet. There is a faint scent of fresh rubber and overall newness of the place in the air that blends with the smell of rain, and something so distinctly Lando, a mix of his cologne and fabric softener.

She has been waiting for hours now. Day two of testing in Bahrain is dragging, and even though she loves watching her boyfriend hit the track, the long hours spent doing nothing are starting to wear on her. She finished reading three books in two days, rewatched her favorite TV show, and scrolled through her feed until the app informed her that there were no new posts.

She sighs, running a hand over the edge of the desk before deciding to tidy up a little. Not that there’s much to clean, since McLaren keeps these rooms nearly spotless, but at least it gives her something to do. A few minutes later, the post-its are arranged on the wall by color, the documents are organized in chronological order, and the water bottles have found a new home, crammed under the table.

Out of curiosity, her fingers brush over one of Lando’s new helmets, freshly designed for the pre-season testing. It’s sleek, predominantly black with neon streaks and intricate models running along the sides. On impulse, she lifts it, feeling its surprising weight before slipping it over her head. The padding presses snugly against her ears, muffling the distant sounds of mechanics still at work in the garage.

She can’t help but feel a vague claustrophobia surrounding her, but the feeling isn’t necessarily bad. On the contrary, it gives her the impression of safety, even if it inhibits her other senses.

Grinning to herself, she pulls out her phone and angles the camera for a selfie. The reflection in the visor catches the glow of the overhead lights, giving her an futuristic look. She continues to snap a few more photos, adjusting the tilt of her head, until a blurred figure appears in the background of her screen.

“Having fun all by yourself?” Lando’s voice is amused yet he sounds tired, and before she can turn around, she feels his arms wrap around her waist from behind. He leans in, lips ghosting over her shoulder in a lazy kiss.

She huffs out a laugh, nudging at his arms, “I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. You scared me.”

Lando chuckles, hands splaying over her stomach, thumbs brushing absentminded circles through the fabric of her shirt. “Sorry. Didn’t expect to catch you playing dress-up with my stuff.”

“Finders keepers,” she says in a singing voice, making Lando chuckle again.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“It looks cool,” she admits, “Therefore, it makes you look cool.”

Lando squeezes her a little tighter, “That mouth on you,” he teases.

The girl giggles, “Am I wrong? Also, you should’ve knocked, by the way,” she continues, reaching up to pull at the visor so she can actually see him.

“I should knock on a door that has my name on it?”

“Yeah, you do!” she sounds revolted, “Especially when you know there’s a lady waiting for you inside.”

Lando’s gaze darkens ever so slightly as he takes her in. She looks like a mirage under the dim light of the small room, her curls coming untamed from under his helmet and her eyes so bright and filled with love, looking back at him.

He nods with a boyish smile, “I’ll try to remember that next time.”

Maybe it’s just exhaustion making his eyes so heavy-lidded, the lingering adrenaline from a long day fading into something softer. But when she catches him staring, Lando has the same soft gaze he does whenever they sit on the couch and he’s about to doze off; he looks unintentionally hot like this, worn out but content.

“Alright, racer boy. Can we go now?” she asks, pressing back against him slightly.

Lando sighs, reluctant. “Not yet. I still have a couple of hours to go. Gotta go over the data with the engineers,” his fingers tighten briefly on her hips before he steps back. “You can head back to the hotel if you’re bored. I’ll get you a car.”

She pouts, “It’s not as fun without you.”

That wins her another chuckle, but this time, there’s something else in Lando’s expression. His gaze is shamelessly dragging over her with an intensity that makes her pulse stutter. It’s only now that he really registers that she’s wearing his helmet, his name and number stamped all over.

She’s worn his clothes before — his hoodies, his merch, his team’s attire — but this feels completely different. It makes his mouth dry and head spin, and he might be exhausted, but suddenly, swallowing the lump in his throat, Lando realizes he’s so turned on.

“Then stay,” he encourages her, “I have half an hour to decompress before going to debriefing. I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

His suit suddenly feels tighter, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He swallows again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he exhales slowly.

“Is that so?” she challanges him. “Something in mind already?”

He runs a hand through his curls before reaching for her again, “Maybe,” his voice is low, amused but laced with something indulgent. His fingers skim her waist, tracing the hem of her shirt as he tugs her closer. “You’re pretty inspiring.”

She tilts her head slightly, the visor still lifted so he can see the teasing glint in her eyes. “Well, that’s new,” she laughs. “But I was just messing around.”

Lando hums, unconvinced. “Sure you were.”

She moves to take the helmet off, but his hand catches hers mid-motion.

“No, leave it,” says Lando, thumb grazing over her knuckles. His breath is warm when he leans in, his next words spoken directly against its glossy material. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.”

A shiver rolls down her spine, and it quickly goes south, right between her legs. It makes Lando grin subtly, then he reaches for the visor, pulling it down with a definitive, loud click. At that, her world narrows in an instant, and the limited view somehow makes every touch and every breath between them more intense.

Lando walks her back until she’s perched on the edge of the physio table, her pulse hammering as she watches him, excited, but mostly curious about his plans. They have thirty minutes, so his movements aren’t rushed in any way. Quite the opposite. They’re almost lazy, but there’s something precise about the way he reaches for the zipper of his race suit.

He rolls his shoulders, loosening up, then adjusts the height of the table so that when he sinks to his knees in front of her, she’s exactly where he wants her to be. Patiently, his fingers trail up her legs, making slow work of the button on her jeans. There’s no hurry in the way he peels them down, taking her underwear with them in one go, but the moment he gets rid of them, there’s a shift in his demeanor.

Lando exhales sharply, his large hands splaying over her thighs as he looks at her, half-lust and half-serious. “You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he says, a hint of mischief curling around his words. “These walls aren’t real, and anyone passing by the door can hear us blink.”

There was a little giggle stuck in her throat, but now she barely has time to react before his fingers part her, his touch light at first, just exploring while he preps her with the dexterity of a man who did it countless of times before.

Her breath catches at the first slow stroke, her thighs tensing as he traces circles where she’s most sensitive. The first sound she makes is barely a whisper of a whimper, that Lando trained his ears to hear, since is muffled inside the helmet.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, “Is that my cue?”

Before she can answer, Lando leans in.

Initially, his mouth is warm and merciful. He licks into her with a sort of tamed hunger that’s out of his character, savoring every little shift of her hips, every shudder she tries to suppress. Even so, it sends her a clear message: even though his energy is low from the long day, his need to taste her is anything but.

The world outside their room hums with noise — faint conversations, the occasional shuffle of footsteps, the distant whir of power tools in the garage. But all she can focus on is the way he’s lapping at her clit, the slick sound of it embarrassingly loud in the small space, her own whimpers barely contained behind the visor.

Lando chuckles against her, the vibration making her head tilt back slightly; the weight of the helmet forces her to let her head fall against the wall, which positions her even better in front of him.

“Gonna have to be quieter than that,” he teases, slipping his fingers between her folds, pressing just enough to make her squirm.

She barely manages to shake her head, her breath ragged. The visor fogs up as a result, which forces her to close her eyes, since her sense of sight is officially useless.

Lando looks up proudly, fingers pushing deeper as he settles in, more than happy to test her limits. He knows how to curl them just right, the wet sounds obscene in the stillness of the room.

His free hand grips her thigh like he’s starved, holding her open for him, his name echoing softly inside the helmet — muted yet desperate. He feels the way she gets even more aroused with each passing second, coating his fingers with every slick stroke, her body responding to him exactly as it does every single time he takes over.

Startled with new sensations experienced in the dark, she brings a shaky hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the moans threatening to spill out, only to realize, all over again, that she can’t. A frustrated whimper escapes instead, the same hand scrambling for something to support herself. Finally, her fingers clutch at the edge of the table, but it’s useless; her hips are already rolling against Lando, chasing more.

“Mhm,” he hums, his voice shallow. “Getting so wet for me, should’ve done this ages ago. Why didn’t we?”

She gasps, trembling on the edge and so ready to agree with him, but then Lando stops, and the loss of his fingers is almost unbearable. Before she can think, a loud, frustrated moan slips past her lips, making him laugh at her impatience.

She’s too gone now, drunk on the feeling, and the weight of the helmet is definitely not helping. Not when she’s melting under his touch, making it hard to move, and pretty much do anything but stay there, waiting. Aching for more.

Lando watches her for a moment, dark-eyed and smirking, already hard just from seeing her like this, her body so pliant and responsive under his hands. He pulls himself out with one hand, stroking lightly, and with the other, he grips the edge of the helmet, forcing her to look at him.

“Alright, baby, I’m serious. No more of that, okay?” asks Lando. “If someone hears us, it’s gonna be bad. And we don’t want that, do we?” he continues, watching her gathering all her strength only to nod slightly. “That’s right. The second I hear you moan, I’ll have to stop.”

Even Lando knows it’s a lie, but he had to say it, just in case.

She swallows, nodding again as best as she can, her pulse a frantic rhythm against his fingers when he drags his hands down her sides, holding her still. Then, with a precise snap of his hips, he buries himself inside her, stealing the breath from her lungs.

The force of it sends a shudder through the physio table, the legs creaking against the floor. She barely has time to adjust before he thrusts again, deeper this time, pressing her body into the table like he’s trying to mold her into it. Her thighs tighten around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, desperate to keep him there, to keep him buried inside her where she needs him most, the weight of him, the pressure and the friction maddening.

Lando swallows a moan, but some of it manages to slip past gritted teeth, “Fuck, you look—” he cuts himself off, sucking in a sharp breath. He doesn’t even have words for it. The way she feels around him and the heat of her pulling him back in every time he dares to pull away, it’s enough to make his mind go blank.

The table shifts again, inching against the floor with every thrust. She grips at the suit still clinging to his shoulders, trying to hold onto something, but there’s no escape from the way he’s driving into her, every drag of his cock making her shake beneath him.

“Lando…”

He knows. He feels it too. The way they’re teetering on the edge of something dangerously intoxicating, and the way they’re doing that together.

His hands tighten on her, his next thrust shoving the table another inch to the side. “Shit,” he breathes, voice husky with restraint. “Hold on, love. A little more, yeah?” He grips the edges of the table and snaps his hips forward again, watching the way her body reacts to him. “Fucking hell,” he spits, eyes dark as he watches her fall apart under him, little by little. “Keep me in, baby. Like that.”

She clings to him without hesitation, like she was made for this, for him. He’s marking her and he knows it, his fingers moving back to her waist, digging into her soft flesh. Lando’s name is all over her, in ways that only he can see, in places only he gets to touch. And the way she lets him, makes his head spin.

In the haze of it all, a sudden, foreign thought crashes into him like a gut-punch: her name next to his. It’s ridiculous, completely out of place in a moment like this, but it paralyzes him for a second. Until his body reacts on its own, fire spreading through his veins. He leans forward, caging her in, his thrusts becoming sharper, more desperate. His forehead presses against the cool surface of the helmet for just a moment, grounding himself, before he pulls back and looks at her.

He can barely see her eyes, wide and glazed over, but it’s enough. His fingers tighten on her hips as he slams back into her, dragging her flush against him, letting her feel every inch of his length. The sharp noise that the table makes underneath them is lost in the delicious sounds of their bodies moving together, of their heavy breathing, of the desperate way she silently whimpers his name like she wants to keep it on her tongue forever.

He’s spiraling, drowning in the heat of her, in the thought that she lets him take her like this, lets him ruin her for anyone else.

Yet somehow, it’s still not enough.

Her hands fly up instinctively, grasping at the helmet, knuckles turning white as she tries to steady herself against the overwhelming feeling of him.

Outside the room, voices pass by again, too close, and Lando clenches his jaw, fighting his own demons as he’s forcing himself to stay quiet.

Luckily, she’s close. He can feel it in the way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes as she tries her hardest to stay silent. Inside the helmet though, her breathing is shallow, small cries coming out of her parted lips.

“Come on, pretty girl,” says Lando in a demanding yet soft tone. One of his hands clamps around her neck, guiding her into each thrust. “Give it to me. Let me feel you.”

Lando doesn’t slow down one bit, rolling his hips in a way that he knows it drives her wild. As a result, her body tenses, trembling as pleasure overtakes her. A choked gasp echoes inside the helmet, and Lando smirks, watching her unravel. He’s so utterly captivated by the way her walls tighten around him and the way her thighs quiver in his hands, as if she can crumble if he’s won’t be careful. It’s almost too much for him, but Lando manages to pull out just in time, watching as her release coats his throbbing length, as she shudders through the aftershocks.

“Yeah,” he breaths, running a hand up and down her thigh. “Such a good girl, baby. Let it all out.”

She slumps back against the table, panting inside the helmet, her body overly sensitive. Keeping his eyes on her, Lando gives himself a few slow strokes, exhaling hard through his nose; he’s so close it’s painful.

“You okay?” he asks her, his voice as hoarse as if he screamed for hours at a concert.

Slowly coming back to her senses, she exhales sharply, “I’m good,” she manages and, before she gets the chance to ask him the same question, Lando slaps her thigh in order to catch her attention.

“Down on your knees, then. Come on,” he rasps, guiding the girl to her knees, his patience wearing out quickly, as he tilts her chin up with two fingers.

The glow of the light catches on the sleek surface of the helmet, and something about it — about her like this, still catching her breath, still his — makes his stomach flip.

“God, look at you,” he breathes, his fingers tracing the edge of the visor as he grips the helmet gently. “Obedient little thing.”

She doesn’t speak — can’t, really — just watches him through the darkened shield, completely at his mercy.

Lando’s breathing stutters as he pumps himself faster, the tension coiling tight in his core. “Gonna make a mess of you, yeah?” he asks, mostly rhetorically. “Right there on my—”

He barely manages a breath before the orgasm crashes into him, blinding and all-consuming. His grip tightens, a sharp groan breaking free as heat pulses through him, spilling in thick streaks across the dark visor. Each of his breath is shaky, his mind fogged with pleasure and a sudden possessiveness.

She stays still, letting him ruin the helmet just like he ruined her, and the sight leaves him dizzy.

His fingers twitch as he pushes sweat-damp curls from his forehead, exhaling a laugh, wrecked and breathless. The sound of it fills the space, mixing with the muffled hum of voices just beyond the walls. But all Lando can hear is the quiet, pleased sigh that leaves her lips, her fingers scratching against her thighs, as if she wants to touch him, as if she wants to taste him.

His stomach clenches at the thought, the aftershocks leaving him lightheaded, wrecked in a way he’s never felt before. He exhales sharply, looking down at her, at his helmet, at what he’s done.

Then, Lando’s fingers are flexing against her head before he finally loosens his grip, running a slow thumb over the mess he’s made.

“Hell,” he pants, still catching his breath. Then, softer, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Might have to fuck you like this more often.”

She exhales a quiet, amused breath, tilting her head slightly. “Guess that means I’m actually keeping it.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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zvaigzdelasas · 4 months ago

Text

Gum arabic, a vital ingredient used in everything from Coca-Cola to M&M’s sweets, is increasingly being trafficked from rebel-held areas of war-torn Sudan, traders and industry sources say, complicating Western companies’ efforts to insulate their supply chains from the conflict.

Sudan produces around 80 per cent of the world’s gum arabic, a natural substance harvested from acacia trees that’s used widely to mix, stabilise and thicken ingredients in mass-market products including L’Oreal lipsticks and Nestle pet food.

The paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), at war since April 2023 with Sudan’s army, seized control late last year of the main gum-harvesting regions of Kordofan and Darfur in western Sudan. Since then the raw product, which can only be marketed by Sudanese traders in return for a fee to the RSF, is making its way to Sudan’s neighbours without proper certification, according to conversations with eight producers and buyers who are directly involved in gum arabic trading or based in Sudan. The gum is also exported through informal border markets, two traders told Reuters.

Asked for comment, an RSF representative said that the militia had protected the gum arabic trade and only collected small fees.[...]

In recent months, traders in countries with lower gum arabic production than Sudan, such as Chad and Senegal, or which barely exported it before the war, like Egypt and South Sudan, have begun to offer the commodity aggressively at cheap prices and without proof that it is conflict-free, two buyers who have been approached by traders told Reuters. While the acacia trees that yield gum arabic grow across Africa’s arid Sahel region — known as the “gum belt” — Sudan has become by far the world’s biggest exporter due to its extensive groves.[...]

Before the Sudanese civil war, the raw gum would be sorted in Khartoum and then trucked to Port Sudan, on the Red Sea, to be shipped via the Suez Canal around the world. Since late last year, however, RSF-affiliated gum arabic started to appear on sale at two informal markets on the border between the Sudanese province of West Kordofan and South Sudan, according to a buyer based in an RSF-controlled area, who declined to be named due to safety concerns.

The buyer, a major trader in the West Kordofan area, said that traders collect gum from Sudanese land owners and sell them to South Sudanese traders in these markets for US dollars.

4 Mar 25

#didnt know abt this #heard abt it on foreign exchanges podcast

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r3starttt · 9 months ago

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𝐊!𝐍𝐊𝐓𝕲𝐁3𝐑 ♱ུ⃛ᰭ by 𝖗.𝖘𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖙𝖙

[TAGLIST]

This is a series of short blurbs-drabbles-one shots that contain explicit sexual content and potentially triggering themes. Viewer discretion is advised. ©𝖗.𝖘𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖙𝖙

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣̲ ❪ 01) BREEDING KINK dom! Abby

‣̲ ❪ 02) MOMMY KINK soft!dom! Dina

‣̲ ❪ 03) FACE SITTING dom! Abby

‣̲ ❪ 04) PRAISE KINK soft!dom! Caitlyn

‣̲ ❪ 05) MARKING KINK sub! Vi

‣̲ ❪ 08) PRAISE KINK soft!dom! Dina

‣̲ ❪ 09) GHOSTFACE dom! Abby

‣̲ ❪ 10) MIRROR SEX dom! Caitlyn

‣̲ ❪ 11) DACRYPHILIA dom! Ellie

‣̲ ❪ 12) HAIR PULLING sub! Caitlyn

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣̲ ❪ 15) BONDAGE sub! Abby

‣̲ ❪ 16) GUN PLAY dom! Caitlyn

‣̲ ❪ 17) BLADDER CONTROL dom! Abby

‣̲ ❪ 18) GHOSTFACE dom! Ellie

‣̲ ❪ 19) WAX PLAY sub! Caitlyn

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣̲ ❪ 22) WEREWOLF reader x Abby

‣̲ ❪ 23) VAMPIRE reader x Caitlyn

‣̲ ❪ 25) HUNTER ellie x vamp! reader

‣̲ ❪ 26) VAMPIRE dina x reader

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

‣̲ ❪ 28) VAMPIRE ELLABS

‣̲ ❪ 29) GHOSTFACE CAITVI

‣̲ ❪ 31) JENNIFER'S BODY Abby x reader

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Please note that everything depicted is fictional, created purely for entertainment and creative exploration.

Remember, consent is key—"no" always means "no," without exception. I do not support or condone any dangerous, non-consensual behavior, unhealthy power dynamics, significant age differences, or actions that are disrespectful or harmful. These works are fictional and meant to explore darker elements of fanfiction as a creative exercise.

If you feel that any content is offensive or disrespectful, please inform me, and I will address it immediately. It is never my intent to offend or harm anyone.

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stylishanachronism · 2 years ago

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I am struggling to follow along with a book (because I’m still recovering from being a ~*Fool*~™ not because it’s particularly involved), but there’s a plot point about one of the characters being pregnant and her blood type being highly important, but it’s really obvious that the author doesn’t have any actual experience with that intersection of stuff because rh negativity doesn’t come up once

#I think? the worry is somehow the baby has a different blood type so the transfusion will go poorly #this started as a murder mystery I think but I’m really not following it well #anyways it’s obvious that they managed to find the ‘if you have x blood you need to do y’ thing but not what x or y actually was #I don’t know if I should be surprised or not because on one hand there’s only one major concern on this front #but on the other I am high key weirdly well informed about pregnancy complications for somebody whos never been in that situation #anyway! if you are planning on getting pregnant you need to know your *and* the other person’s rh type #in other news it continues to be *extremely funny* that the ace kid got all the scary miscarriage stories as a form of birth control #and the pan kid (who was a safe but sexually active teen) got none of them

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nasa · 1 year ago

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What We Learned from Flying a Helicopter on Mars

The Ingenuity Mars Helicopter made history – not only as the first aircraft to perform powered, controlled flight on another world – but also for exceeding expectations, pushing the limits, and setting the stage for future NASA aerial exploration of other worlds.

Built as a technology demonstration designed to perform up to five experimental test flights over 30 days, Ingenuity performed flight operations from the Martian surface for almost three years. The helicopter ended its mission on Jan. 25, 2024, after sustaining damage to its rotor blades during its 72nd flight.

So, what did we learn from this small but mighty helicopter?

We can fly rotorcraft in the thin atmosphere of other planets.

Ingenuity proved that powered, controlled flight is possible on other worlds when it took to the Martian skies for the first time on April 19, 2021.

Flying on planets like Mars is no easy feat: The Red Planet has a significantly lower gravity – one-third that of Earth’s – and an extremely thin atmosphere, with only 1% the pressure at the surface compared to our planet. This means there are relatively few air molecules with which Ingenuity’s two 4-foot-wide (1.2-meter-wide) rotor blades can interact to achieve flight.

Ingenuity performed several flights dedicated to understanding key aerodynamic effects and how they interact with the structure and control system of the helicopter, providing us with a treasure-trove of data on how aircraft fly in the Martian atmosphere.

Now, we can use this knowledge to directly improve performance and reduce risk on future planetary aerial vehicles.

Creative solutions and “ingenuity” kept the helicopter flying longer than expected.

Over an extended mission that lasted for almost 1,000 Martian days (more than 33 times longer than originally planned), Ingenuity was upgraded with the ability to autonomously choose landing sites in treacherous terrain, dealt with a dead sensor, dusted itself off after dust storms, operated from 48 different airfields, performed three emergency landings, and survived a frigid Martian winter.

Fun fact: To keep costs low, the helicopter contained many off-the-shelf-commercial parts from the smartphone industry - parts that had never been tested in deep space. Those parts also surpassed expectations, proving durable throughout Ingenuity’s extended mission, and can inform future budget-conscious hardware solutions.

There is value in adding an aerial dimension to interplanetary surface missions.

Ingenuity traveled to Mars on the belly of the Perseverance rover, which served as the communications relay for Ingenuity and, therefore, was its constant companion. The helicopter also proved itself a helpful scout to the rover.

After its initial five flights in 2021, Ingenuity transitioned to an “operations demonstration,” serving as Perseverance’s eyes in the sky as it scouted science targets, potential rover routes, and inaccessible features, while also capturing stereo images for digital elevation maps.

Airborne assets like Ingenuity unlock a new dimension of exploration on Mars that we did not yet have – providing more pixels per meter of resolution for imaging than an orbiter and exploring locations a rover cannot reach.

Tech demos can pay off big time.

Ingenuity was flown as a technology demonstration payload on the Mars 2020 mission, and was a high risk, high reward, low-cost endeavor that paid off big. The data collected by the helicopter will be analyzed for years to come and will benefit future Mars and other planetary missions.

Just as the Sojourner rover led to the MER-class (Spirit and Opportunity) rovers, and the MSL-class (Curiosity and Perseverance) rovers, the team believes Ingenuity’s success will lead to future fleets of aircraft at Mars.

In general, NASA’s Technology Demonstration Missions test and advance new technologies, and then transition those capabilities to NASA missions, industry, and other government agencies. Chosen technologies are thoroughly ground- and flight-tested in relevant operating environments — reducing risks to future flight missions, gaining operational heritage and continuing NASA’s long history as a technological leader.

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You can fall in love with robots on another planet.

Following in the tracks of beloved Martian rovers, the Ingenuity Mars Helicopter built up a worldwide fanbase. The Ingenuity team and public awaited every single flight with anticipation, awe, humor, and hope.

Check out #ThanksIngenuity on social media to see what’s been said about the helicopter’s accomplishments.

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Learn more about Ingenuity’s accomplishments here. And make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#tech #technology #futurism #space #robotics #inspiration #science #planets #NASA #aviation #Youtube

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wilwheaton · 5 months ago

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We still know much less than we should about who’s actually running this show. There’s mounting evidence that even more than we know is being directed by Elon Musk and his private-sector employees, who are now fanned out across the government. He appears to have taken control of the federal payment system which allows his operatives to stop checks to any private individual in the country and/or examine all their personal financial information. According to The New York Times, Musk has tasked engineers with figuring out how to cut off the flow of funds from the Treasury to programs and priorities he believes conflict with the brief he received from Donald Trump. He has also taken control of some portion of the federal agency computer systems, allowing his operatives to lock federal workers out of key computer systems. We need a lot more reporting on just how he is exerting this power, specifically under what authority and who the people are he’s installed at these government agencies. Some have simply been appointed to new roles the old-fashioned way. But the best information we have about how “DOGE” is working suggests many are employees from his private companies operating with no legal authority at all.

Who Can Stop Elon’s ‘Team’ Wilding Its Way Through the Federal Government?

No legal authority at all.

AOC is the _only_ Democrat I have seen or heard talking about this. Where the fuck is leadership? Where are the lawsuits?

He has NO LEGAL AUTHORITY AT ALL to do what he is doing.

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girlfromflor · 3 months ago

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idk if this makes sense but i couldn't stop thinking about it. omega!reader x pack!141 but simon and reader have a backstory.

you were rescued by los vaqueros. that was all anyone knew about you. there were no files, no archives, no photos, no information at all that you were indeed a living person. the ones who believed you were real were the ones that had seen you. but that's it. the only proof that you existed came to those who stared into your lifeless eyes and got a glimpse of your seemingly cold, distant demeanor and sharp, almost unnatural reflexes. almost is the key word, because they were in fact the most natural, primal form of your being. your omega.

it has barely been a week since you were rescued and they haven’t let you stop for a second. the higher-ups transferred you from place to place. from the local hospital to the base's medical center, back to back like you were some important patient even though there was nothing wrong with you. they just had no idea what to do with you. you were a deceiver. they had no trust in you to “allow” you to the outside world because that would mean a threat to civilians. and there was no locking you away either because they liked to pretend they weren't just as worse as the ones who kept you locked in some dirty dungeon far away from humanity.

they couldn't figure out what to do. you had a way of controlling your scent with such expertise that wasn't known to trained military soldiers. most of the time you masked your omega scent well. you didn’t smell like nothing at all, a neutral almost non existent aroma lingered around you. it wasn't very different from when someone would use scent blockers and they wondered how did you learn that in the first place. it took them seven long days to get you to let go and allow an omega specialist to get a sniff of your natural scent, no manipulating involved.

just as you could mask your scent to a non existent one, you could also make it more appealing, more seductive. it was a problem, really. it brought alphas and betas to a dizzy haze where they felt like they had to do what you wanted so you could allow them closer for as long as it was possible. you made them submit in your own, fucked up way. even the elite forces couldn't help but give in to you. you lured people in, just to whisper your way into their hearts and minds to have what you wanted. and all you ever wanted was to survive, no matter what. always.

it wasn’t long before word spread and you were faced with the reality that your future once again was stripped away from your hands and put into the care of others. people you didn’t know and that you didn’t want to be forced to get to know. people you didn’t want to meet in the first place. and you were prepared to stand your ground. you were ready to do whatever it'd take for you to feel like you took back at least a bit of control of your life. the one you've long lost. the one you so deeply yearn to have back. even if it meant war. hell, you'd chase a way to feed your needs even if that meant death.

you waited patiently, sitting down on the hospital-like bed in one of the many rooms in the base's med center, playing with your fingers to pretend you had something to do other than think. you let yourself daydream from time to time, usually you fell in the arms of your very vivid memories from the last place you used to live in – the place you've been kept pretty much your whole life, but not anymore. you weren't given options, you knew you were going to be handed to someone only for this person to decide what was going to happen. the lack of opportunities to give consent and to have control over your own life were both things you never had the privilege to have. you caught yourself overthinking more often than not. it was a cruel habit, of course, but one you rather have over suicidal ones. you used to have those too, you recall.

you never indulged in self harm of any kind, but suicide was a regular thought of yours before you met simon. your dear, cherished best friend who you kept well hidden somewhere in the back of your mind. the last time you saw him you were helping him escape the grey walls and steel gates where you were trapped for years. the place was supposed to be a orphanage. and it was, for a while. the younger ones were adopted by loving families and, eventually, moved on from the cold, creepy place. the ones who weren't chosen, the neglected and overlooked like yourself, were left behind to grow older and to grow wiser on their own. they were left alone with the slow understanding that if they weren't picked by the time their adulthood came, they would be sold somewhere else.

you were a teenager by the time you stumbled upon simon. the tall, threatening young alpha who seemed to be older by only a few years, maybe months. alphas and omegas were kept in separate places of the building, so imagine your surprise when you were met with his warm chest, your cheek knocking on the fabric of his hoodie as you walked without looking forward, and rather to your right where anyone could appear at any moment. it was late, probably past midnight and you had the habit of sneaking around the building to find its secret places. simon never questioned where you were really going that night, you never explained yourself either, that would feel much too forced. after a while you didn’t have to either, because simon got to know you all too well, he was glad he accidentally caught you when he did.

after a few days of pining over each other's company, you sat down beside simon during lunch. none of you said a word but it became a routine. before either of you could realize a few months had passed and you saw each other every day, the two of you developed a very deep friendship filled with care and mutual understanding. lunches turned into whole days together, the days turned into months and as you grew fonder of each other you also realized there wasn't much time left. that’s where it all started. it was you who told simon to run away, it was you who said that he could make it, that he’d find a pack, a family, a home. you showed him every single one of the alternative exits around the building, you wrote down by memory the schedule of every security guard that worked on the big gates that kept you inside. you ran with him and you fought with him – you fought for him, because when the plan went down, you gave up on your own attempt of running away to be sure that he would make it out. you did it for him, for the love you found with him – one you only ever saw in books, one you never knew you'd ever be able to experience.

the place was huge, to this day simon doesn’t know how you managed to know it all so well to help him out. he later in life realized why it was so big. the place had a hospital-like facade only to be a lot of other things from inside. it was a reformatory to the kids who were sent there to be lectured, the ones like simon. it was an orphanage to others, but he only realized that when he met you. he still remembers that night, even with all the heavy emotions that came with it. he had been woken up by a nightmare and decided to grab something to eat from the kitchen – which was forbidden, but he really didn't care –, only for his idea to be totally forgotten when a smaller being collided with his chest. after that night his nightmares seemed to be slowly but determinedly replaced by images of you, after a few days he didn’t have sleepless nights anymore and when he realized both of you had come to terms with the fact that you were in fact friends, he didn't even have nightmares at all. although, by the time he was out of the steel gates, hidden behind a tree, scared and panicking as he watched you being dragged back to the stone cold walls of the place he knew you likely wouldn't escape any sooner, he knew he'd never sleep as calmly as he did when he had you.

it wasn’t long before he was found. price took him in and took care of him. they had a weird alpha to alpha relationship at the beginning, but it was more than simon could've ever asked for and as he grew used to long conversations and talks about his past experiences, simon finally felt like he belonged somewhere. as he joined the first project of task force 141, simon learned how to care for others. he only ever had you who was a fragile, delicate little omega – in his mind, at least – that he avoided hurting at all cost, which meant he avoided you altogether. you cared for each other but it was you who called the shots, it was you who laid boundaries and limits, it was you who took care of him. not the other way around, like it should be – like he wanted it to be.

as the task force 141 became a solid and stable unit, it also became simon's pack. he loves john with all he has, he’s always ready to follow him to the end of the world if that means they’ll still be together. john taught him how to love kyle – sweet, loving kyle who is too kind for his own good –, in a way that felt natural. kyle deserves all the love in this world and simon slowly learned how to give that without feeling like he was going to mess everything up. it was too bad that simon only realized that he was in love with you after he met johnny. johnny came like a hurricane and brought all simon’s walls down one by one. it was johnny who helped him with the nightmares he had of you, johnny was the only one who knew the whole story – how you sacrificed everything for simon, and how he would never allow himself close to another omega who weren’t you. you were probably dead, most likely gave in to the insane torture they must have put you in and either died from it or went into distress and had to be put down somehow. he couldn’t live with any of it, he never forgave himself for what he did – he left you behind, what type of person does that? it doesn’t matter that you were both young and scared for your lives. it doesn’t matter that you purposely threw yourself on the guard that was almost catching simon, only so he could escape and you would be the one captured and dragged back inside. johnny always tried to get simon to get back to the institution and look for you, but simon always sank so fast in the idea that you were already dead that johnny stopped asking, stopped questioning. both he and kyle did a great job at keeping simon’s mind out of bad thoughts and john was there to catch him if he ever fell. now, after so many years, the only reminder that you were part of his life was the nightmares he had of the day he left you, the ones who haunted him every other week.

caught up on reminiscing about your past life, you don’t acknowledge the opening door and the heavy steps that make their way inside of the room you're currently located in. you also don’t realize someone is talking to you until a hand touches your shoulder. you are shaken back into reality at the movement, your body reacting involuntarily and getting on guard and wary for a second. it was a soft touch that you knew meant no harm, but you were distracted and vulnerable. but then again, when weren’t you vulnerable? you look up from your fingers as you quickly take in the person in front of you, a woman – a beta – she is pretty, with kind eyes and kind intentions. her black skin is as beautiful as the night sky. you can see right through her, she’s scared you will think she has any other intentions when she actually only wants you to have some peace of mind. you can see it in the slight frown of her brows and pressed lips, the edge of an overbearing desire to comfort you well masked, only the soft and comforting beta scent more apparent – if you weren’t so good with scents, you might have missed it.

“okay…?” she takes her hand away as she asks you, the british accent catching you off guard because most of the people you came in contact with since arriving from the hospital were either mexican or american. you’re not sure what she means.

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard a word you said…” you answer matter-of-factly with a chuckle, wanting to ease her nerves if that meant she’d stop projecting her scent to try and calm you down. you didn’t need that.

she chuckled as well, and you could see her shoulders relaxing a bit as her hands found their way to rest inside the front pockets of her cargo pants. “you seemed distracted, so i don’t blame you,” she jokes back, the atmosphere getting easier to deal with as you both settle in a normal conversation, despite the unusual circumstances. “i said that i’m here to make sure you’re okay and see if you’re ready for the meeting.”

oh, yes, the meeting. it was the usual power speech, they made you feel like you had the opportunity to choose if you want this or not. neither you nor the pretty beta in front of you fall for it, of course. because you aren’t ‘ready’, and you don’t get to voice it. she knows that as much as you, but you know she still wants you to be okay. so you sigh, stepping out of your bed and answer, “yeah… yeah, i’m ready.”

the walk was kind of long, but it was the first time you got to walk around the base, so you took your time watching your surroundings. you realize very quickly you’re wearing a uniform, given that the plain shirts and cargo pants were a very common occurrence – the only difference was that yours were a slightly different colour. you were silently thankful for the break from the hospital gowns you had to wear for the past week. you also thanked the discreet clothing they chose, despite you being a civilian, that way you could blend well among the soldiers and, with your scent masking skills, you became so normal you almost disappeared.

it took two busy days for you to fully comprehend everything that had happened. the orphanage where you grew up was in england. you stayed there most of your life until the day – about six weeks ago – that you were transferred to las almas. a place that stayed just on the border of mexico and the united states, which meant you were transported to the other side of the world without your acknowledgement – an information now known to you, because you were told after you were moved to the base’s med center, three days after you were rescued.

“i’m sorry if that’s, uh… crossing a line… but, what is your name?” you ask the beta that is walking by your side. she hadn’t said anything since you left your previous room, so you guessed maybe she had orders to not talk with you. but that was quickly proved wrong when she gave you a quick glance and a smile formed on her lips.

“i’m sorry,” she starts, seeming like she was trying to hold in a laugh. “i was so nervous i forgot to introduce myself…” she says with a shake of her head, and you wonder if she’s a new recruit or something to be acting so sincerely. “i’m natalie, but you can call me nat.”

“shouldn’t i address you with a respectful name?” you ask, genuinely confused at the intimacy she was allowing. she then lets out a giggle.

“i’m just a recruit with superiors who get me to do their work. i guess you could say they trust me a lot.” she answers in a nonchalant, calm voice. giving you another glance as she guides you inside of a building. she gives you a wink and points to a door by the end of the hall and you understand immediately what it means. you try to keep at least some of the good atmosphere that surrounds you and natalie as you approach the door and she knocks at the wooden surface.

there’s a moment of silence before some chairs are moved and a deep, masculine voice calls from inside for you to come in. natalie steps in first, holding the door open for you to walk right after. the wave of mixed scents knocks you out a bit, but it’s manageable. the meeting room is just what you expected, plain and organized. practical. there are three chairs being occupied around the long table. you recognize two of them. natalie walks towards the third person, who was sitting at the head of the table – a woman but an alpha, nonetheless –, they exchange brief greetings before natalie moves to stand behind her. you try to take in her scent alone, distinguishing some floral notes under a smoky cloud, like smelling a flower while standing in front of a bonfire. it’s a pleasant mixture, it brings a sense of warmth without the uncomfortably intense scent of domination alphas usually had. her brown hair was well tied, except for her bangs that covered part of her eyebrows. she had more of a relaxed appearance compared to the other two.

the shortest one was sitting at the woman’s right, closer to the door. a beta like natalie but a man, he was the doctor that accompanied you during the week that had passed. he was polite but very reserved, he asked you to call him doc but never indulged in any other activity to help you feel at ease. you didn’t hold that against him, you rather enjoyed the silence and peace that came with it. the other one, sitting on the left side of the woman, who had an imposing figure and hard stare, was the alpha that took you away from the dirty and dimly lit basement you were being kept in. his name was alejandro, by what you remember from that day. he seemed all too eager for this meeting to be over, while the doctor remained as unfazed as he had been while treating you.

the woman offers you a seat beside the doctor, and you realize he’s only there to ease the tension of you being an unclaimed omega sharing a space with two alphas, maybe that’s the reason natalie is still here too. you take your seat, wondering how long you could keep a neutral scent of your own – it was safe but it was tiring, much like having to keep a raised arm or leg up for too long, it’d eventually give out.

“i’m kate laswell, i’m sure you’ve already been introduced to doctor ortega and to colonel alejandro vargas,” she starts, her tone purposeful and assertive, everyone in the room had their eyes on her. “i know you already answered everything you could, so i’m not going to repeat that,” she says more to ground you for what is to come. she goes through a few papers on her hand but you know she’s trying to buy time, you can smell it in the anxiety that sours the edges of her floral notes – and the worst, the empathy that causes it. “we thought of this with much care considering your situation and with unwavering intentions of solving the undeniable problem caused by our lack of success in keeping you safe as a nation and armed forces,” she takes a pause and you know she is not only talking about las almas, she is talking about your whole life. even if she wasn't part of the british military. after a sigh, she finishes. “and we’ve decided that you’ll be moved to live under the care of trained soldiers who volunteered to take care of your needs, keep you safe and offer the comfort you seek not just as an omega or an addition, but a part of the pack. if, of course, you decide to accept their offer. if you don’t, you can simply share their spaces for a while and whatever happens in the future is up to you and them, rather that is you moving on alone and starting a new life or staying with them.”

“there are two packs who stepped up in your regard,” she says, eyeing the alpha on her side. “los vaqueros, which you may remember from the day they helped you out…” she says, eyes roaming your face looking for any sight of a reaction. you stayed as expressionless as you could, but your eyes flickered towards alejandro, who was already looking – boring his eyes – at you. after a pause laswell continues her small speech, “the other pack you haven’t met yet. they’re called task force 141, an elite unit just like the one who saved you, but they’re from england.”

it is too much, everyone in the room knows that. you blink slowly trying to take it all in, soldiers volunteered to take you in? what kind of people do this? you can’t decide if they’re too good or too evil. your scent wavers in the air as you start to grow tired from having to deal with so many thoughts in a day. you try to appear to have some inner control and voice out your doubts. “i’m sorry, ma’am, who are those who volunteered?”

your ear immediately perks up at that, what are they doing so far from uk? you tilt your head only slightly, lips parting to start your questions. she nods in understanding, letting you talk. instead of wasting time with non-important matters you ask what has been burning in your mind. “so, if i choose to stay with los vaqueros, we go to mexico… and if i choose task force 141, we go to england…?” you ask, sounding unsure despite the firm tone of your voice. laswell only nods, already knowing what you’ll choose. you grew up in england, after all. you turn to look at the alpha on the other side of the table, eyes full of honesty as you speak, “i’m grateful for what you did, despite knowing that it is your job…” you watch him nod, knowing what will come next. he doesn’t seem mad, he doesn’t smell angry either, so you turn back to the blond woman, her hands are grabbing the papers sprawled in the table and putting them on a pile, but her attention is on you. you eye natalie behind her, she has a small smile adorning her lips. when she notices you looking at her, she gives you a reassuring nod. you take that as a cue to voice your decision. “i’d like to go with task force 141, please.”

the plea comes involuntarily, a habit you were taught since you were very young and never really had the chance to grow out of it. laswell smiles though, happy to know you actually chose something for yourself, other than choosing the alpha who had saved you like you had something to pay back. because you felt like you did, but you also didn’t want to lose the opportunity to go back to england, even though there wasn’t home anymore. no where was, really.

you didn’t even think about who this pack is. why they volunteered and what it meant. at least you knew alejandro had helped you, but you knew nothing about this new group or what they wanted with you. you don’t get time to panic over it, though, because the second after you finish your statement kate is muttering a ‘very well, then’ and you are being moved out of the meeting room by natalie, who says that now you’ll just have to wait a few hours before you get to meet them and that your flight to london is going to happen in a week from now – and that’s when you realize that maybe you didn’t really have a choice, because they knew from the start that you’d pick england.

a/n: let me know if you liked it! <3 | part 2

#cod #call of duty #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force x reader #cod omegaverse #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #simon ghost riley #poly 141 #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #poly!141 x reader #poly!141 #bel's works

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