#he drinks blood through his nose

[agnarid]

Mosquito

Yes I know I drew his glasses wrong, it wont happen again.

[hoshigray]

˙⋆✮ FIRST PERSON SQUIRTER.ᐣ.ᐟ ✮⋆˙ | jjk men

꩜ᯅ꩜ choso, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna & toji × how they deal with a squirter!?

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences (true form! kuna) - kissing/making out - thigh-riding - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - sqůirtǐng (ofc) - facesitting - Daddy kink - 69 + doggy style + full nelson positions - overstimulation - clitoral play (grinding + swiping + pinching) - praising - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, cutiepie, good girl, little thing, etc.) - degradation + humiliation - mention of blood and drool/spit.

word count: 5.3k

a. note: goin on a trip next week, so i leave y'all with this until the next one ☆ enjoy !!

ᯓ꩜ Chōsō Kamo

You giggled. “You ready, baby?”

He smiles back. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”

Having a partner willing to try new things with you is undoubtedly a blessing. Wouldn’t you want to try anything and everything with your partner—learning new things and sharing experiences with the person you love and cherish the most in this globe? 

It adds to your trust in one another – an exchange enhances the companionship…even if it’s in the bedroom!

“Okay, Choso, get ready.”

Your boyfriend nods from below you, watching from between your thighs as you descend your lower half where his face is, and the two of you moan once the lips of your labia land on his awaiting tongue.

This was all your idea, by the way: you’re the one who pulled on Choso’s shirt as you two watched the television from his bed, his caramel eyes drifting to you after grabbing his attention. It was difficult to ask at first, stumbling with your words as this embarrassing request isn’t something you make regularly. Once you got your words out, it wasn’t surprising to see your boyfriend a little flustered as you were. 

However, that didn’t stop him from accepting it – albeit bashfully – confidently, igniting a colossal quirk of happiness to affect the glow of his bedroom. So, here you two are, putting this new experience to the test. 

“Mmmm, oh God,” you purr with chewed lips, fighting the urge to swing your hips as Choso mouths you. 

Choso has his hips on your waist to keep you steady as he does his work, using his lips and tongue to please you in this new position. His tongue swims around your inner labia, the folds coated with your wetness mixed with his saliva. You exhale through your nostrils, your thighs sluggishly move to have your man attend to the surface, and you mewl at the flick of your clitoris. Oh shiiit…!

Having you on top of him like this was not something the brunet expected, thinking this would be a lazy day to hang out with his cute companion on this slow Friday. However, to have easy access to taste your fluids within his vicinity in this erotic position...he’s starting to like it a little too much. 

“Ohhh, my God, Choso,” you shrill with a gasp. “You’re so good…Feel so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He questions below your waist, poking your clit with his tongue. “You like riding my face?” 

He can’t see it, but you nod impetuously. “Yessss! Yees—Shhaaah! Fuck, your tongue…!” You lick your lips and bite as you bring your waist lower, his nose bumping on your clit. “More, give me moreee…!”

“Heh, sure thing,” he titters at your enthusiasm as his hands curl to your buttocks, bringing you further down to his level. You whimper as he sucks on your vulva with purpose, lapping his tongue around to tease your entrance before he pushes it in. Here is where Choso changes the atmosphere, fucking you with his tongue and collecting more of your essence to drink. All you can do is wail and swing your hips faster, and your boyfriend quickly catches the rhythm. Shit, tastes so good…!

“Uhhgg, feels so fucking good—Mmmaa!” Holy hell, this was too much! There’s so much going on underneath you outside your control, only having the command of your waist to influence. Your thighs jiggle as you resort to bouncing on your boyfriend’s face, and your hands ball on the comforter the two of you lay on. 

Choso’s tongue goes frantic, wiggling the wet muscle around your insides and pulling you in to sink more into your overwhelming taste and smell. The more you bounce on his face, the more his nose hits your clitoris, your bud sending shocks up to your head to enlighten the exhilaration! Faster and faster you go, the same for the tongue lapping all over your vulva and sucking on you purposely. 

“Choso..!! Cho—shiiiit—Chosooo!!” You cry out with trenched brows and closed eyes, electric shocks spiraling all over your body with all the growing pressure. 

Your body then gives in, and you let your essence out of your system. Your fluids shower all over Choso’s face as you come on his tongue; your boyfriend is not swayed by the liquid hitting his face, just focused on slurping your wetness covering your cunt. Quivers force your thighs to jolt, jerking your whole frame as you let the waves of your orgasm hit until everything relaxes.

And when it does, you sigh heavily and lift your ass. Choso watches the sight before him, his spit blended with your come all within your inner thighs. The heat from his face spreads to his ears — oh, he hopes he doesn’t get addicted to this.

“Oh my God, Choso,” your boyfriend snaps to your call. “Your face, it’s all wet!”

“Hm? Oh!” It takes a second to realize that he is utterly drenched with your satisfaction, scoffing with a smile. “Guess we both got a bit too excited.”

You chuckle as you leave to grab a hand towel from his bathroom. “I’m sorry about that!”

“It’s okay,” Choso takes off his shirt, which was damp on his collar, and accepts the towel you give him. “As long as you’re feeling good up there, I don’t mind drowning a bit for you, sweetie.”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re not funny.”

ᯓ꩜ Nanami Kento

Nothing puts the cherry on top of a hard day at work for Nanami than coming home and being pulled into your arms.

“Nnnmm, Kento, you feel so good…”

…And loving on him more affectionately.

You practically dragged your man into the living room, peppering him with smooches in your glee that he had returned home safe and sound, and he chortles as you beckon him to sit on the couch with you. The two of you winding down while watching the television, Nanami relaxing with a nice cold beer and taking off his necktie and blazer.

However, he’s unaware of you glimpsing through your peripheral, looking intently, sliding his tie off his collar and unbuttoning his shirt. You notice the sneak of his exposed collarbone, drifting your gaze to something else only for it to land on his pants. Lips flatten at the sight of his thighs; his hand patting on it makes you stare longer than intended, swallowing thickly to quench a dry throat. 

He was taking a swig of his beer, watching the motion of his Adam’s apple with intent. Your fingers fiddling with the bottom of your sundress can’t jurisdiction your thoughts anymore, wanton desires stacking up and soon to fall like dominoes. 

And when it does fall, you silently stand and walk in front of Nanami, the blonde noticing you come around to obstruct his view of the TV. “My love?” You don’t answer. “Something’s wrong?” No words yet…but you lift your dress, mocha eyes pinpointing to the cute design of your cotton thong. “Sweetheart…” you move to sit again, but not back on the couch—nope—instead, his pant-clad thigh, straddling the firm muscles, and your arms come around to cup his cheeks.

“Kento,” you finally speak, whispering for only his words to pick up. “I missed you.”

If there was one thing that could pull Nanami’s heartstrings, it was you – his pretty wife. So, when you express your love for him, of course, he has to reciprocate tenfold.

“Ooooo, yesss, Ken…please, go faster…Mmmph.”

You stay atop Nanami’s thigh, grinding your labia on his pants to the point that a damp spot is prominent in the tan color. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he’s the one who slid your thong for his fore and middle finger to swipe on your clitoris. The touch is pleasant, fueling your waist to keep moving. With your back to his chest, he kisses you passionately from behind. Your sweet tongue meets his, influenced by the taste of alcohol, a strange combination that surprisingly gets the kiss steamier. 

Nanami chews on your bottom lip, having you whimper so sublimely that shivers crawl his spine, sucking on your tongue as your hips go faster. Jesus Christ, the friction from grinding on the material of his pants feels so good, nestling in between your folds nicely and faintly bumping on your clit. However, that is for your husband’s fingers, tweaking the bud you perk to your tippy toes. Hahhh, so good!

“Mmmm, shit,” the golden-haired man curses under his breath before taking your lips into his again. “Come here, angel.” He slams his lips to yours, and you don’t plan to leave his taste as you throw your head back. One arm lifts your legs by the knees, the free hand having more access for him to stick his middle finger into your wetness.

You moan into his mouth, allowing your husband to please you with his fingers rubbing your inner texture. It starts slow until he adds the ring finger, dialing the pace for his fingertips to scratch onto places you could never reach. A hand finds his hair, his neat locks now getting disheveled because of you. 

“Puhaah, ohhh, shit!” You shrill with puffy lips while Nanami kisses your cheek and chin, all the while his digits are brushing up on the upper wall of your vagina — you almost lose balance. “I’m close…!”

The magic words let Nanami know to keep doing what he’s doing, sucking the skin of your neck while shoving his fingers until his very knuckles. The clamp of your walls is sensational, addicting to the point that he doesn’t want to get his digits out yet — not until your high comes to an end.

And that doesn’t sound impossible; you scream as if you don’t have neighbors between your apartment, a watery liquid ejecting out of your glands and showering all around. Sprinkles of your clear juices hit the palm of Nanami’s hand and thigh, adding more stains to his pants to worry about.

 Your heaving body slowly relaxes as your orgasm rattles your bones, Nanami laying more pecs on your beautiful skin as he permits your quaking legs to touch the floor again. Yet, you jerk when your toes feel something wet, snapping out of your daze and realizing what a show you made.

“O-Oh, my—“ you try to stand, but Nanami’s quick to catch you as your body is still under the shocks of your crescendo. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kento, I messed up your work clothes.”

“No worries, I need to do laundry tomorrow anyway.” The blonde chuckles to your ear and kisses you again, massaging your waist. 

“In that case…would you mind if I dirty your clothes some more?” Your butt presses up on the tent of his groin — which has been getting firmer and firmer once the man stuffed his fingers in you. “I’m sure you’d get some fun out of it.”

He raises a sandy brow with a smile. “Would I, or would you, since you’re the one who came onto me?”

“…A bit of both.” You both share a laugh as Nanami carries you bridally to the bedroom.

“Then I don’t mind at all.”

ᯓ꩜ Gojō Satoru

“Mmmm, can never get over this view~.”

“Can you stop commenting about it?!”

“Whaaat? I can’t say I admire my cutie’s beautiful ass in front of me?”

“You’re so annoying…” you grumble as you sigh and begin to lick the tip of his cock.

It’s been a while since you and Gojo had a good 69 session. He is busy being the strongest sorcerer of the modern era and being a full-time teacher, and you go through your day-to-day life swarmed up with work and routine. Lack of time to spend together is an onerous task to execute outside of sleeping and snoring in your shared bed.

But alas, when you two are finally resting and enjoying each other’s company this weekend, it’s a no-brainer that you two will end up skin-to-skin action sometime today. 

You straddled atop Gojo, your ass facing him while his lower half was to your front, your hand stroking his length cock, following the curve up to the pink tippy top. The sight of precum starting to pool and spill over down your fingertips makes your cheeks hot, and the heat between your legs causes a twitch.

Gojo, however, grins before he kisses your labia, welcoming his tongue that invades the space between your folds. You moan as you stuff your mouth with his cockhead, treating him with peppered licks and sucks as you keep jerking him off. Fucking hell, his dick is just so lengthy, hitting the back of your throat with ease that you have to remind yourself to relax to not gag.

Lazy licks are dawned on your wet chasm, lapping from the clit up to the other end. He notices the subtle quakes of your thighs as he tongues you down and has him chuckle as he pushes his face into your frame more, his hands curling to cup your ass so he can fondle the flesh.

You mumble on his dick after he flicks your clit. “Mmmph…! Hmmmm…” Sucking on his shaft, you bob your head up and down to get accustomed to the limb. Climbing back up to the tip where you suck on it roughly with hallowed cheeks after drizzling it with saliva. 

“Oh shiiit,” the white-haired man’s head hits the headboard of his bed, moaning at the attention you’re giving his cock. “So good at this, angel,” he coos as his hands curl to the front to massage and lightly pat your asscheeks like drums. “Missed this.”

“Mmmm, mmmahh…!” The tip leaves your lips, and you’re quick to keep stroking him as you lick around his crown. “Fuck, so big…”

“Well, thank you, baby,” he knows you’re probably rolling your eyes at that comment, chortling to himself. “Means a lot hearing that from someone who keeps winking at me over here.”

“Pfft, you’re so gross,” you top his cockhead to the flat of your tongue, blowing on it to make your tall partner shiver under you. “So full of yourself.”

“Mmmm, maybe so,” you whine as Gojo blows and sucks on your inner labia. “But you can’t blame me for that, right?”

“What…ever,” your feet come around and pulls his face back to your ass. “Just shut up and use that tongue—since you’re so confident.”

“Heh, so pushy.” But the thing is, Gojo is confident – narcissistically so. You saying that only probed him to flip a switch, and you’re unfortunately on the receiving end of his wrath. 

Gojo’s tongue goes erratic, swishing around your vulva as if you can’t keep up with one lap after the other. Your waist goes to lift your ass away — fat chance, as his hands return behind your butt to keep you on him the entire time. The vibrations of his humorful laugh are felt in the very nerves of your folds.

You whimper aloud, the hand jerking his cock, straying off its rhythm as your body submits to the pleasure going around your lower half. He inserts his tongue into your opening, fucking your slit with pushes and pulls. He sucks your wetness with his mouth, and the hands placed on your ass grip on the flesh that has you standing on your very palms.

“—Khhh..! W-Wait, Satoruu, stop!” You cry, but the tall man only smacks your ass mischievously, having you clamping on his tongue without your conscience. “I-I said waaait!!” No signs of waiting as he stuffs his face further between your thighs; noises of him slurping your vulva sound so wrong!

Oh, my fucking God! Your legs tremble, a sign that you’re trying everything you can to alleviate. However, Gojo’s grip on you doesn’t make it an easy battle, latching onto you with vigor. No, wait, wait, stop i—“Ahaa—ahhhnn!!”

It’s no use; the fluid you release slips past your control, spraying out of the urethra and showering all over your thighs and Gojo’s lower jaw and neck. Your body yields, losing balance and slumping your whole body on top of your boyfriend as you come on his tongue and drizzle all around the space of your lower half. Shocks and quivers travel up your spine to your head to pound, leaving Gojo to keep lapping and swishing on your wet slit in victory. 

“Mmmm, aahhhshit, so good…!” He blinks with hooded eyes as he licks his lips and spits on your vagina to lick slowly. “Taste so good…”

“Hahhh, ahhh, I..I told you to,” you stand on your elbows and look behind. “To…wait, dummy!”

“You told me to shut and use my tongue!” He backfires, not relenting even after sending your half-lidded glare. You groan and turn back to suck on his pink tip in defeat. “Fuck, love it when you’re all wet like this…and lucky me for being in the splash zone as you—Oww!”

You smack on his nuts. “You’re so annoying!”

ᯓ꩜ Getō Suguru

“Suguruuu…! Don’t do th–Ahhht!”

“Ahhhh, you sound so cute, baby.”

Geto plows you from behind, watching you grip the armrest of the couch as your butt is propped up and your face buried to hide yourself…Quite a futile attempt, if he says so himself, but adorable nonetheless. 

Fucking in the living room wasn’t part of the daily routine today, yet here you two are. His hands grab hold of your waist as he conceals his girthy cock inside your tight cunt, stuffing every inch of him till the very hilt meets the lips of your outer lips. 

Your breath is shaky as Geto’s hips move to and fro, sighing at the sensation of your tensed walls around him. You always felt way too fucking good, biting his lip to fight the urge to let his waist fly and piston himself right into you. And he enjoys the way you act as he teases you, the position giving him ideas on how to torment you idly. 

Like now, as he skims a thumb around your asshole. The action of having you contract on him even more. “Nnnn! Nnooooh, don’t play with my ass…!”

“You sure? It’s been winking at me for a minute.” He chimes with a sly smile, licking his finger and switching his thumb to lather your hole with his saliva. Holy shit, the way you’re twitching around him is driving him nuts, as he hasn’t even put anything in yet. 

“Do-Don’t say it like that!” You peer over your shoulder with furrowed brows, meeting the purple eyes that catch you. His hips go excruciatingly slow, your vagina feeling like a void as he pulls for absence before fulling you back as he pushes. “It’s em…barrassin—Ghhhh!”

He pushes the thumb inside while you’re distracted, and both your holes pucker in haste. “Awww, don’t be like that, my love,” his mellow voice doesn’t match the crudeness of his actions, throwing unpredictable snaps of his hips to throw you off. “Nothing about your body is embarrassing….God, your ass looks so sexy from the back—“

Another twitch of your slit—God, you’re too fucking cute. “What are you—Don’t say stuff like that…!” Your flustered reaction didn’t make it any better as Geto pushed his thumb inside until the dent and knuckle, wiggling it inside and pushing and pulling to toy with your rear. Your teeth clench onto the couch pillow while he increases the cadence of his ruts. “Mmmmm, ohmyGod…Suguu, please—“

“Hmm, you want me to stop?” He asks and observes for a cue to stop what he’s doing. You don’t say anything, though, just your hips swaying. It makes Geto scoff, “I get the feeling you don’t want me to; look at you moving your hips on your own, pumpkin. Your body’s so honest for me.”

“Haaahh, you’re soo…mean, Sugu…”

“Only when I know it makes you feel good,” he moves his bangs out for a bit. “Which is why,” then Geto slithers that same hand down to where your chasm is linked to his wet cock, and his fingers go erratically fast on your clit. “I wanna tease this a bit, too.”

Eyes widen as you shriek at the touch, moaning aloud once he removes his thumb from your ass to keep your butt onto him as he jackhammers his cock into you. Your frame is propelled with every push, the pokes on of your cervix knock you out like the wind, and the hard rubs on your clit have you seeing stars.

“—Ohhooo, oh–hoooo!! Sug’ruuu, waaiitt!!” It’s useless; he doesn’t stop, and more hits to your womb have you wailing uncontrollably. The fingers on your clit don’t let you rest, having you unable to speak a proper sentence and resort to letting your boyfriend pound into you. A few more pinches have your legs jerking, and you can’t help but let the wave smash onto you.

As your orgasm claims over your body, you squirt out, liquids falling onto the couch beneath you, point blank. Your eyes are sewn shut as your slit flutters on Geto’s penis, your substance leaking out of your glans and dirtying your thighs and legs. Oh God, no!!

Geto hisses at the feeling of you spasming on him, tilting his head to see what you’ve done. “Oh my, would’ya look at that~.”

“Shooop, don’t loook…!!” A hand moves to the side to “try” and stop him, but he catches it with his palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. ��Don’t look at iiiit…”

“But you did so well!” Geto kisses your hand. “Maybe I should play with your ass more—“

“Suguru, stop!”

“Kidding~,” he was not.

ᯓ꩜ Ryōmen Sukuna

Sukuna relishes the feeling of you like this — your back to his front, your legs held up by his solid upper arms while the lower hands hold your buttocks, and your holes accommodating to his two girthy cocks — like the good pet you are. 

He entirely suspends you, your entire frame contorted for your arms to grip the futon sheets below. Sweat and warmth are exchanged by bare skin, the glow of the candles highlights the unioned figures within Sukuna’s quarters, and your anus and vagina are full of nothing but the two cocks stretching you and rubbing your insides.

Sukuna bucks his hips with might, and his every push makes you dizzy. Toes curl as your ass is pulled up and down to meet his hefty balls, his dicks venturing further to torture your insides with satisfaction. Your vision gets a bit hazy as the heat gets to your head, and your head begins to pound.

“What’s wrong, little thing,” your lips flatten to hinder the moan wanting to escape as he speaks behind you, feeling his breath brush the hairs of your back. “You’re silent this time around.”

“Haaaah, my Lord…” The tongue of his stomach licks your lower back with a lazy kiss. “Y-You’re…too biiig.”

He hits you with a sudden rut and purrs at the clench of your entrances. “You say that, yet your lewd body seems to accustom pretty well.” Another hit of his hips causes the tips of his cock to brush up against your sweet spots effortlessly, and you finally unclench your lips to let a wail escape. “Your body only good for taking cocks like a real good whore, huh?”

“I’m so—Mmmph…! S-Shooo fuuuull…” 

“No, you’re not,” he snickers as his lower left-hand sneaks around to cusp your clitoris, your precious pearl engulfed by the sheer thickness of his digits. “Not until I fill you with my seed like a sow in heat.”

The salmon-haired man picks up the pace to drill his cocks, churning your vagina and rear like toys. Your cries fly out quickly at the point, puffy lips losing ground to stay locked. Hands balled into fists as you’re threatened by the sheer mass of Sukuna, unable to fight out of this—forced to submit to him and his persistence.

Your slit and butt are so busy with his cocks, the length of your vagina grazing your G-spot by its underside, the walls fluttering involuntarily around him. The dick inside your butt feels so utterly good; the size of him is never something you can get fully habituated to. And the hand on your clit doesn’t stop playing with it, roughly pushing and grinding on it to the point of babbling and choking on spit. 

“—Hnnngh, fuck. So tight,” Sukuna licks your back and nibbles on your skin, teasing to tear your skin to taste just a hint of blood. “Feel so good…”

“Ahahhh, I caaan’t…!” Your eyes begin to water as you shut them close, lack of vision enhancing the sense of touch where it has your nerves overly stimulated. Everything is happening all at once, and you can sense the climb once the tip hits your womb. “I can’t do iiit! You’re gonna break meee!!”

“Keheh, wouldn’t be the first time.” It’s probably for the best because you can’t see the smug-ass grin on his oddly comely face. More kisses are placed on your back. “Shut up and take it, dove,” he commands you, not leaving you any room to retaliate as his thrusts increase without warning. 

Your mouth is agape, and your cries are unwillingly bouncing around the shoji-paneled walls. A bit of spit comes down your lips, your hands only finding Sukuna’s waist for your nails to dig into. The grumble of his stomach traversing to your core to rumble with the vibrations. Oh, God, noo!! You can feel it – the worse of the worse. Just when you thought your humiliation wasn’t enough at this moment, it was about to skyrocket in three…two…one.

Feverish ruts to your ass, have the reins slip out of your hold, all the restraint in your body withering with every harsh push and pull. Your head pounds like crazy, nothing but a blur can be seen in your eyes, and the clear substance expels out of your urethra, leaving out of your system along with your dignity. 

And Sukuna doesn’t have to see it to believe it, grinning from ear to ear as he playfully smacks on your vulva to create more of a mess. The watered-down liquid sprayed out to his thighs and the futon sheets and sticking to your inner thighs and sliding down the crack of your ass. Tiny pinches to your clit help you jerk out more to ruin yourself, your body losing strength entirely and letting the cursed man keep you in your distorted position. 

“Hmph, what a bad little toy,” he criticizes you like always, the tears beckoning to leave your watery eyes. “Look at you causing a mess on my bedding; who told you to do that?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Sukuna,” your expression borderline fucked out, yet the embarrassment keeps you humble. “Forgive me…my Lord.”

Sukuna slaps onto your clit with his palm; you pucker onto his girths immediately. “You dare ask for forgiveness after the fact—I should just throw you out in the cold with these wet sheets you’ve caused.”

“N-Nooo! I’m so sorry!!” Fuck, he loves it when you plead, so desperate for his word, his submissive and breakable dove. “Pleaseee, fill me up with your seed, and I will clean it up…! I-I won’t do it again…”

“Says who?” He finally lets your legs go briefly before he spreads them over with his lower arms. His upper hands find your chest to grope. “You’ve stained my sheets with your essence; you aren’t sleeping anywhere else tonight except here with me in this exact puddle you made for yourself, you dirty pet. Am I clear?”

His final words have your skin crawl as he nibbles on your nape, and you nod.

“Good.”

ᯓ꩜ Fushiguro Tōji

“Gahhh!! Ahhhhh!!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s it; keep clenchin’.”

Toji’s fingers are stuffed inside you, stretching your poor hole with pushes and pulls that take your breath away with ease—quite literally as your arms come around his neck to keep him close.

His bedroom is filled with nothing but you: your shorts and panties decorating his bedroom floor, the smell of your lotion on your now-sweaty skin intoxicating his senses, and your damp towel laid underneath you as you lie on your back.

Toji sits right beside you, near as you keep him from leaving. Not that he planned to — of course not. When he has his ring and middle finger shoved inside your vagina and grazing your inner skin with a mediocre pace, there’s no way the older man would want to stop now. Fuck, he loved how tight your cunt was, so snug to the touch and tender to his fingertips. It drove him crazy, just like you always make him. He can never get tired of you, honestly. 

“Hahhhh, Tojiii, ahhaaa…” Your whimpers get louder and louder by the second, and your back jerks to the blunt of his fingertips, poking deep inside your chasm. “Gooohh, ohhhshit…!”

“Yeah, sweetie?” His forehead touches yours, skin-on-skin increasing intimacy. “Ya like it when I fuck you wit’ my fingers, huh?” You answer with a whine as he slows his digits down, teasing the walls of your entrance while pressing on your clit with his thumb. He scoffs, “So nice and tight fr’ me, huh…”

“Ahhhh..! Bu–But I just…finished taking a showerrr!!” You wail with pleading hooded eyes that are instantly locked with intense viridian ones. “You’re making me—mmm!—dirty again…!”

He raises a brow. “That doesn’t mean anythin’ to me,” more push to your clitoris causes your body to jolt closer to Toji, and he sneers. “Getting all ready and clean fr’ me, what a good girl…all the more fun fr’ Daddy to make ya all dirty and cryin’ all over again.”

A hand grips his shoulder, exposed by his black wife-beater. “Pleasee, Daddy, it’s too—Aghahh!” He sneaks his fingers back inside knuckle-deep; the deep chuckle you hear from him causes your ears to melt. 

“C’mon, mama, I know you have it in ya,” he coos with a kiss to your forehead that has you dissolve under his scarred lips. “Wring my fingers up, make a mess fr’ me.”

Another kiss to your forehead makes you whine, the gentle atmosphere only lasting for mere seconds before the pace of his hand returns to a rhythm that has you screaming instantly. Jesus Christ, those thick fingers are no joke, the stretch enough to overwhelm your senses, along with how deep they reach inside. 

Every push to your cunt has you breathless, and every dig is knuckles-deep and too fast to catch up with one after the other. “Ohoooo, D-Daddyyy, n-nooo!” Yet there’s no point in begging now—once Toji is deadset on something, it’s challenging to swade him off. Especially when it comes to you, his little sweet thing… “I’m gonna—ohfuuck!—I’m so clooose…!”

Your words only egg Toji on to keep fingering you as much as he can, ravaging your delicate insides with his hand alone. He purchases his face to your neck, sighing deeply at the alluring whiff of your lotion. He licks your skin before a kiss, and the pace between your legs becomes unforgivingly faster.

Eyes roll up to the ceiling as your body shuts down without your knowledge, completely taken aback by the climax that clenches around the thickness of Toji’s fingers. Also, the water liquid is excreting projectively from the continuous knock-kneed-worthy pleasure. You let loose with a howl, your back arching with every subtle buck of your hips. 

Toji looks down with a salacious grin, taking in the sight of you spraying all over his bed. The towel is doing nothing but getting damper because of you, and he can only chortle at the sight and, lowkey, thank his intuition for wearing a wife-beater so you can coat his forearm. Dazed with euphoria, your body slumps down to the sheets, sweaty and sticky from the excretions and panting heavily. So much for a shower, huh?

Toji whistles and courses his free hand atop your head while besmearing your vulva with your juices. “Good girl, mama, good fuckin’ girl.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.

"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."

Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.

"She should be sleeping.."

Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.

"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."

His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.

Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."

They all salivate at the damn thought.

"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.

"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."

Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.

The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.

Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.

".. Hey lass.."

He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.

You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.

"Hey soldier-"

You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

"I know baby.. I missed you too.."

You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.

"There you are Kyle.."

You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.

"Always here."

He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.

"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"

You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.

Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.

"Oh Si.."

He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.

"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."

You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.

Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.

"I know doll.. I know."

He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.

"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."

You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.

"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"

You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.

"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."

Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.

He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.

You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.

"Everyone's alright?"

You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.

"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."

You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.

"And you?"

"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."

John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.

"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."

You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.

"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."

You mumble against him.

You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[pseudowho]

18+, MDNI

You always knew Kento had sensitive hands...so while he's drunk and needy, you give him the touch he's craving.

Warnings: Finger sucking, gagging, fingering, handjobs, desperate!Nanami, sloppydrunk!Nanami, cumplay, pre-established relationship/consent

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

If six large whiskeys hadn't washed the dirt of the day from Kento's soul, you doubted you'd be able to do much good. That didn't mean you couldn't try.

You smelled him as soon as you entered the living room; not a bad smell, but undeniably the smell of life, earthy and masculine in a way that stirred something nameless, older than the stars, within you. His cologne and the faint deodorised tang of sweat, cut with bitter spirit fumes, led you by the nose to the sofa.

Kento slumped, manspread and sloppy, his head tipped back and woozy. He felt, rather than heard you approach, and his head rolled forwards, a marionette. Liquor glazed his eyes, and a crooked smile slurred across his lips, sliding away as soon as it started.

"Love of my life." Kento rumbled, gravelly with inebriation. You sat beside him, sideways as you faced him, hip flaring a fertile hill beneath the hem of just-his-shirt. Kento's eyes caressed you, long and lascivious. The alcohol made him shameless in a way that leaked, toxic, through the crevices of your defence. You shivered, clamping your thighs together to ease the sudden needy throb.

"Rough day?" You whispered, your fingers moving over to stroke the loosened tails of his tie. Kento groaned, husky, as if it was his skin you stroked. He took another long gulp of whiskey with a hiss. As your fingers plaited with his around his glass, trying gently to remove it, Kento shot you an eerily flat look, scoffing as he resisted and whiskey slopped over his fingers.

"You could say that...look what you made me do." Kento toned, low and slow, and shifted his glass to the other hand. He raised his liquor-glossed hand, wobbling eyes mathematical in how they traced the amber drips, trailing down long fingers towards his wristwatch.

Kento tsked, his usually warm face twisted into a sneer, the alcohol amplifying the spite he'd carried home. "Expensive whiskey, that. I think you owe me, you menace--"

With little thought, you leaned forwards, taking his forefinger into your mouth, licking the whiskey off before it could reach his wristwatch. A strangled noise of bliss left Kento's throat, gasping for a second as your tongue stroked over the pad of his finger. His cock swelled fast, thin-blooded and quickened.

"...sta-stop...ungh, don't. Don't."

Your eyes flicked up to his, devious now.

"...don't?" You mimicked, ready to obey.

Kento's teeth gritted, something deep rumbling in his chest. A barely perceptible shake of the head, blushing faintly at your wicked smile.

You grasped his hand up to your face, brushing your lips over his fingertips, sighing over them. Your breath alone was enough of a caress. Hypersensitive already, and only lubricated by his drink, Kento's breaths grew deep and ragged, his thighs spreading further to accommodate his rapidly thickening length. His other hand, loose around his crystal tumbler of whiskey, draped over the back of the sofa.

Kento watched, hungry and fascinated, squirming with overstimulation as you took his fingertips into your mouth, one at a time, suckling, licking, flicking your tongue over their calloused pads. Kento rested his whiskey over the tenting in his beige slacks, his ring and little finger stretching out to graze over his aching bulge until he shivered.

"...that's it...good girl..." Kento slurred, lubricated with abandon, teeth bared and predatory. "More tongue...more...there we go...hnnn..."

Kento's head rolled back, loose, sighing with spread legs as if it were his cock in your mouth. Gently, insistently, he pressed his first two fingers into your mouth until they touched your throat. Kento looked up at the sound of your wet gag, continuing to thrust his fingers over your tongue, watching as the spit gathered on his knuckles and the tears gathered in your eyes.

"...so good for me...sweetheart...look so pretty..." Kento mumbled, fascinated as he pressed the pad of his thumb down on your tongue, examining your mouth with a thick swallow.

A gasp shuddered out of him as you clamped his thumb between your teeth, kneeling to straddle him. You raised the hem of his borrowed shirt, just enough for him to see that you were bare beneath it.

Kento slopped the rest of the whiskey back with a rusty groan, abandoning the glass so he could dig his fingertips into the fat of your hips, growling as he gave it a shake and barely restrained appreciative slap, just to see it jiggle. His crooked smile returned at your sweet laughter around his thumb.

Returning your sucking attentions to his fingertips, without breaking eye contact, you spread Kento's legs again, reaching in and gripping his erection to release it. Kento hissed, cursing to feel it slap against the neat patch of honey blond hair beneath his navel.

"...sh--shit...lover, I...I can't...no fit state..."

"Then just...take."

"...excuse me?"

"Just take. Just for today, let me..." You sucked his fingertips again, enough to free a desperate, wanton moan from Kento's bobbing throat, "...let me, play with you, instead."

Bleary and drunk, Kento had no interest in refusing such a generous offer, and his moan only dragged longer to feel you suckle his fingers again, your other hand grasping his cock in one long, heavy stroke from ball to tip.

Gasping like a fish out of water, Kento moaned jagged, stilted little moans. You felt yourself throb, edged by watching Kento writhe beneath your strokes. Not wet enough, you removed his fingers from your mouth with one wet pop, for long enough to drop a glob of spit onto his cock head, stroking it over his length, rolling his sensitive tip in your palm until Kento cried out in bliss.

As he thrust his fingers into your mouth, watching you straddle him, jerking him off with genuine enjoyment, Kento felt himself come undone with shocking speed. Reaching down to hook his balls out too, he fondled them in one broad hand for just a few seconds, before dipping his fingers to the honeypot between your legs. The crooked smile grew again to feel you squirm, his fingers teasing at your entrance.

"...thassit...so good t'me...so good...fuck-- be inside...please...good girl..."

Kento was a lecherous drunk, if only with you, and you gasped to feel one thick finger thrust inside you. You squirmed downwards, riding his fingers until he was knuckle deep. Kento had enough tension in his body to keep his fingers stiff enough for you to grind him inside you. Mirroring himself, his other fingers thrust into your mouth, over your wet little tongue, to your gagging throat, and back again.

Only the liquor stripped away the shame he would otherwise have felt at approaching his orgasm so quickly. As your hand sped up with wet little plap plap plaps, so did his, and you felt your wrist ache and your cunt ache and your throat ache with the burn of pleasuring him. It was worth it, to watch him sloppy and groaning beneath you.

You felt a rush, riding his fingers inside you, and the ball of his palm against your clit, unable to wait any longer to feel his cock twitch and pulse in your hand. You didn't need to cum, to feel the deep aching satisfaction of making Kento break.

You wouldn't have to wait; Kento's thighs clenched, and he cursed, gasping with ecstasy.

"--f-fuck...fuuckk I'm...I'm...g'nna cum...haaaaahfuckyesgoodgirl, good giiirrlll--"

Kento bucked into your fist as glugs of cum spurted into your hand, not quite as warm as your own arousal seeping onto his fingers. Kento groaned, long and ragged, with each contraction of his cock, each gradually weakening spurt of milky thick seed onto his belly. Kento shivered with bliss, edging on hyperstimulation as you milked the last drops of cum from him.

Kento panted, rough and devastatingly sleepy as he came down from his high. He groaned, another spurt dripping weakly onto his belly as his fingers slipped out of you, and you wiped off his cum between your folds. He knew, with a possessive rush, that you just liked having it there. He blushed faintly, suddenly himself again, the stress of the day melting off him.

"Shit, I'm...I'm sorry, darling, I...I did nothing for you..."

You pressed a long, silencing kiss to his lips, nuzzling your nose against his with a whisper.

"You'll get me back...I know you will."

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party

Summary: Things don't quite go as expected during your heat, but he can hardly complain.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 12.150 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, UNSAFE SEX (please do not do this in real life, practice safe sex), anal sex, anal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), Dom/sub dynamics, threesomes, heat cycles, knotting, kissing, body fluids, cum eating, face sitting, spanking (it's like twice), Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, aftercare, and fluff

A/N: Well, this one got away from me. Not much to say other than heed the warnings and DO NOT read this in public or in underwear you care about...also maybe ditch the underwear all together this time.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Kyle’s eyes immediately dart back to meet John’s gaze. The word coming from your lips has shocked him, startled him even. You hadn’t said much during your first heat, reduced mostly to unintelligible mumbling when you were aware enough to look around with that hazy gleam in your eyes. Here, but not aware. Now your eyes are clear, staring up at him intently as you cling to his wrist. He can’t help but wonder if you’ll remember this, or if it’ll stay lost in the haze. 

John stares back at him, his gaze focused but Kyle knows him well enough to tell he’s just as surprised. He’s still drinking the electrolyte drink, his throat bobbing slowly with every swallow. Kyle knows he’s doing it so he won’t have to answer right away, assessing the situation in the moment of clarity from his rut. He’s still wrapped around you, still locked inside you. 

The moment seems to last an hour, the tension between the three of you palpable. The anticipation from Kyle, waiting to see what John will say, the intense desire from you to pull him onto the bed, and John’s uncertainty as to how to proceed. It's not uncommon for betas to join during heats, it's not even that uncommon for betas to be the ones helping during heats. The pups of a beta and omega pairing do exist after all. 

Kyle's eyes haven't left John's, even as you mouth at his wrist, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth gently scraping like you're trying to devour him. He can't help the stirring in his pants from the heavy scents in the air, the sounds that had been coming from the room less than 20 minutes ago still ringing loud in his ears. 

John pulls the now empty bottle from his lips, taking the time to screw the cap back on. Kyle holds his hand out automatically, ready to take it like he could escape your tight grip to toss it into the garbage with the others. He debates throwing it into the garbage from where he's standing, but the loud nose might startle you, which might make John get defensive. 

Instead he lets it drop to the floor. He'll pick it up later. 

John continues to stare at him, holding his gaze. There's sweat beading on Kyle's back as he waits for what's coming next, what John's decision will be. He has no reason to be nervous. The fact he's in this room, so close to them speaks volumes of trust John has, the safety he feels letting Kyle around his omega in such a vulnerable position. 

“She wants you.” John finally says, leaving it open to Kyle. It's not an order, it's not a hesitant decision left open for you to make, it's not even a direct question. It's an opportunity, an opportunity for Kyle to make the final decision. You've already decided, and in presenting this opportunity, so has John. 

Kyle takes half a step back, a whine leaving your lips but you let him go. Your whine cuts through him, desperate and needy and almost sad. It hurts him, only aiding his decision. 

He kicks off his shoes, stripping out of his shirt and pants. He debates leaving his boxers on, but he already knows what's going to happen, what the endgame of this will be. It’ll be one less obstacle for all three of you. 

Your eyes are intense as you stare at him, lips parted as your eyes zero in on his half-hard cock. Kyle approaches the bed again, the sweet scent of omega in heat thickening in the air. You reach out for him again, but not for his wrist. 

John folds your arms against your chest, shifting the two of you backwards to make room. “Not yet,” he murmurs in your ear. “Let him get settled in.”

Kyle stares down at where the two of you are still connected, your pussy gaping wide around John’s knot. He swallows thickly, his cock twitching to life. He’s careful as he climbs on the bed, not wanting to cause you to shift on John's knot. He lays down face to face with you, a content smile tugging at your lips. The haze is returning, your eyes getting glassy as you tug Kyle closer.

He's not expecting it as you kiss him, wet and sloppy as your tongue traces his lips. Kyle shifts himself closer, his hand settling on your hip as he kisses you back, your mouth wet and hot as his tongue slips inside, dragging against yours. 

His hand slowly trails down your hip, fingers gliding across your still warm skin. You moan against his lips as his fingers follow the dip of your hip down closer to your mound. He can feel where John's knot begins, bulging in your pelvis right above your slit. Kyle lets a finger brush your clit and he can feel the way you spasm around John’s knot. John lets out a groan as you tighten around him. 

You pull away from his lips with a whine, pressing your face into his neck. Kyle leans up on his elbow, giving you more skin to explore as his fingers trail lower, brushing around your puffy lips to the base of John's cock, the small bit that still sticks out of you. He runs his fingers over the red, almost pulsing skin. John lets out another groan, his hips grinding against your ass. It tugs at the knot inside you, causing you to let out a breathy moan that blows hot against the wet spot you’ve made on his neck. Goosebumps form on his skin as he brushes the underside of John's cock, the alpha pushing his hips against yours again. 

Kyle pulls his hand away as pain erupts in the dip where his neck meets his shoulder. “Ow-fuck!” He hisses, jerking away as John sinks his hand into your hair with the arm that's under you, forcing your head back. 

Kyle rubs the sore spot on his neck as John chuckles, leaning his head against yours. “She's in a biting mood this time.” He rasps, a satisfied grin pulling at your lips, still shiny with a mix of yours and Kyle’s spit. “Got me at the start, naughty little thing.”

John grinds his hips against you again, your eyes nearly rolling back as you meet his movements, grinding back against him. Kyle can see it, the change beginning to happen. The haze is settling back in, the moment of clarity gone. It's been almost just over a half hour. It can take between 30 minutes to an hour for an alpha's knot to deflate. 

“She's so sensitive.” John continues, his lips brushing your cheek. “Can make her cum so easily.” 

John's other hand wraps around you, pushing against the bulge in your pelvis. You let out a high pitched whine, your body shaking as you cum around his knot just like that. John curses, eyes squeezing closed as he presses his face against the side of your head. His cock is twitching, his knot tugging on your pussy but you don't seem to care. 

“Fuck...” John groans, the sound long and dragged out as his hand leaves your pelvis, sinking into the sheets in front of you. 

Kyle sits all the way up, watching curiously as John's cock continues to spasm. Quiet growls leave his lips as his cock begins to soften. His knot is getting smaller and smaller, deflating and releasing its hold on you. John lifts your top leg up over his hips before pulling his cock free. A gush of slick and cum is forced out of you as your walls spasm, slowly relaxing after being forced open for so long. 

Kyle can't help himself as he reaches out, gathering some of the viscous cocktail that's gathered on your thigh. It's almost slimy as it coats his fingers, your slick wetter than your normal arousal. Not quite as sticky. John's cum has thickened it, tainting it a milky white color. 

“Beautiful, isn't it?” John smirks, watching Kyle rub the mix of their fluids between his fingers. “Give her a minute, she'll be gushing slick again and you can get a taste.”

He's right, you've begun to tremble, the skin of your thigh starting to warm even more where his leg is pressed against yours. Your pussy is fluttering still, pushing the rest of John's cum out.

Kyle can't help himself again as he gathers more of your release on his fingers, pushing it back inside you. You're tight around his fingers despite the fact you had just taken your alpha’s knot. You squeeze around him, slick gushing around his fingers. It coats his hand, warm and wet. He pulls his fingers from you, watching your pussy spasm as more slick seeps out of you, coating your folds and dripping onto the skin of your thigh. Your scent has thickened in the air, making his mouth water. It's going to his head, making his cock throb. 

He can understand now why alphas will fight over an omega in heat. 

John moves, shifting both of you on the bed until his back rests against your headboard, your body between his legs. He grips you behind your knees, pulling your legs up until you're damn near folded in half. You don't seem to care, panting as sweat begins to bead on your skin. You've gone almost limp, pliable and willing so long as the ache in your core gets relieved. 

John's eyes are dark as he stares at Kyle, his fingers digging into your skin. “Well?” He smirks. “Are you going to give her what she wants?” 

Kyle's eyes drift between your legs, your pussy spread open before him like a buffet. It’s not a new sight. He’s been between your thighs many times, tasted you on his tongue. Yet it feels different now, because it is different. The situation has changed. He’s not fucking you because you’ve come to him, sought him out to relieve the ache between your legs, the neediness that’s built up the whole day. You’re still needy, still begging, but it’s because you have to. Your body needs to be filled, needs to have an alpha’s knot to ease the ache. Your body wants pups, and so it’s forcing you to the peak of attraction to an alpha. Pheromones thick in the air to drive alphas into their most base state, slick coating your thighs to ease the taking of a knot. 

His eyes are glued to you as slick continues to seep out of you, sliding down your ass until it drips onto the sheet below. He’s no alpha, but your pheromones are getting to him, fogging his own mind in need. He’s felt it when he enters to clean, to ensure you’ve eaten and hydrated, that nothing has gone wrong, but the feeling leaves as soon as he’s in the clear air in the hallway. He had thought it was simply the knowledge of what was happening, the sounds from the room and then seeing you and his alpha knotted together. It’s a natural reaction to a beautiful omega naked in front of him. 

He understands it now as his mouth goes dry, staring at your shiny pussy. It’s his turn to experience it, his chance to understand firsthand what both you and John go through. He feels the urge to bend down, to taste you, to drink from the source like your slick is the only thing that will ease his thirst. 

He bends down, laying flat on the bed so he’s face to face with your weeping slit. The room is silent, even your own panting breaths quiet, waiting in anticipation. He leans forward, pressing his face against your slit. He inhales deeply, his eyes almost fluttering as your pheromones go straight to his brain. They swirl around his synapses before shooting down his spine, seeping into his veins and warming his body. His cock is hard and leaking onto the mattress beneath him, throbbing for some relief. He won't give it any yet, wanting to wait until he at least gets a taste of you. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning at the sweet taste of you. There's still a hint of your natural taste under there, but the sweetness of your slick has him burying his face in your folds. He laps at the source, pressing his tongue into your pussy, drinking up your slick like a man starved. His nose presses against your clit, and he inhales the sweet scent of your slit with every breath. Your skin is hot, feverish as his hands slip under you, holding your hips up as he feasts on you desperately. He feels like he's in heat himself, or perhaps as close to a rut as a beta can get. His face is soaked, your slick dripping down his chin, adding to the mess both dry and still wet on the sheets.

You're panting and whining, pushing your hips up against his face desperately. He doesn't care. He'd drown here happily. His nose continues to brush your clit, making you whine all desperate and needy. His cock is throbbing, but he resists the urge to grind against the bed. Not yet. 

“Please, please!” You whine, pussy fluttering around his tongue. You are sensitive, nearly to the brink and he's barely touched you. 

He presses harder against your clit, a loud moan falling from your lips as you cum around his tongue, sweet slick gushing into his face along with the familiar, tangy taste of your cum. He licks every last drop from your pussy, or at least as much as he can with how your slick is still seeping out of you endlessly. 

He lifts himself up from your pussy, meeting John's gaze. John beckons him closer, gripping Kyle's chin as soon as he's within arm’s distance and pulling him against his lips. There’s a low rumble in his chest, the sound shooting straight down Kyle’s spine. It makes him shudder, his cock twitching. 

John licks into his mouth, tasting you on his tongue before licking your slick from his face. Kyle can't help but moan, his cock smearing precum against your thigh. 

“You want her?” John breathes against his lips. “You want to feel her?”

Kyle breathes out a quiet moan, nodding. “Yes, sir.” 

He backs up as John releases your legs, letting you flop onto the bed. He maneuvers out from behind you until you're laying flat on the bed, limp yet willing. You let out a whine, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction. He can’t imagine you’re getting any, not with how slick your thighs and pussy are. 

John moves off the bed, cock hanging hard and heavy between his thighs. “Present for your beta.” John says, the alpha command strong in his voice as he slaps your ass lightly. “Show him how good of an omega you are.”

You let out a whine, flopping over and shuffling your legs under you. Kyle doesn’t think you’ll be able to do it, given your weak state, but you surprise him. Your upper body is still pressed into the mattress, but your hips lift, slick still drooling out of your pussy. Kyle is nearly drooling himself staring at your puffy lips and soaked skin. 

He jumps as John's hand slaps his own ass cheek. “Well, give her what she wants.” His voice is rough, his alpha still slipping out around the edges. 

Kyle moves forward almost automatically, obeying the command of his alpha. He shifts so he's kneeling behind you, fisting his cock. It's still hard and throbbing, precum dripping from the tip. He drags the head through your folds, slipping through easily thanks to the slick. He’d understood the importance of slick before from his research for your first heat, but now he’s getting a firsthand demonstration. 

His hand closes around your hip, holding you steady as he presses into you with a groan. You’re so hot and wet and tight around him, your pussy fluttering around him like it’s trying to pull him in. Soft, breathy moans slip from your lips, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as he sinks into you completely with one press of his hips. He pauses in surprise as his hips press flush against your ass without even having to work you open. He supposes you’ve been taking John’s not repeatedly, but yet you’re still just as tight around him as he remembers, if not tighter. He shifts forward slightly so his hips are flush with your ass, his eyes following a bead of sweat as it slides down the line of your spine. It’s hot in the room, and you’re hot under his hands, skin burning with the flames of your desperation. He understands can’t give you what you need, not completely, but he can give you a little relief. 

He can feel John’s eyes on him as he begins to move, pulling back before sinking back into you. Your pussy seems to have a mind of its own as it flutters around him, letting him pull back before pulsing around him, pulling him back in. He’s fucked you plenty of times, but it’s never felt like this. So slick and warm and responsive. Your body moves in accordance with his movements, pushing and pulling with every thrust of his cock in and out of you. It makes his head spin, his movements starting to pick up speed. There’s no resistance, his cock gliding in and out of your pussy easily. 

“Fuck...” He groans, clinging desperately to his sanity as he tries not to cum immediately. You’re whimpering and whining under him, legs already shaking but he can’t tell if it's from the effort of holding yourself up or from your pleasure. 

Low growls rumble in John’s throat, the wet sound of him pumping his cock mixing with the wet squelch of your pussy. It’s an obscene chorus, the harmony of moans and growls and the wet sounds of sex. Slick continues to drip out around his cock, smearing on his skin. You’re pushing back weakly against him, moaning and drooling on the sheets. You’re doing what omegas are supposed to do during heats, lay there and take your alpha’s knot over and over in hopes of being bred. You won’t be, you have protections against that, but your brain can’t comprehend that right now. It can’t comprehend much of anything in this state.  

You squeeze tightly around him, trembling as you’re thrown into an orgasm. Your walls clench, gripping him like a vice, so tightly he almost can’t move. Slick gushes out around his cock, soaking his pelvis, dripping down his thighs. The sensation is almost heavenly as you spasm around him, almost trying to pull him deeper, coax a knot out of him that he can’t give you. 

He starts to grind against you, his vision almost going dark as his own orgasm is forced out of him suddenly, his hands tightening around your hips. You whine as he holds you, hips probably sore from John, but he can’t find it in him to care as he bends over your back, holding your ass flush with his hips. He’s gasping for air, trembling himself from the shared sensation of your orgasm and his own. 

It’s almost too much. 

Almost. 

“You’re not done.” John says, trailing a hand down Kyle’s spine, smearing the sweat that’s broken out across his body. “Give her another.” 

Kyle can’t disagree, can’t even ask for a moment to gather his head as he begins moving again, your body sucking him in so tightly he can hardly do more than grind his hips against your ass. You don’t seem to care, needy whines and moans slipping out of your lips. 

John’s hand dips between Kyle’s thighs, collecting some of your slick before he presses his finger against Kyle’s hole. Kyle lets out a sound that’s almost a whine of his own at the sensation.

“Open up for me.” His alpha growls, nipping at the skin of his ass cheek. “Be a good boy.” 

Kyle nearly cums again, fighting to relax as he continues to fuck you. He bends over you further as John presses a slick covered finger into his ass, a deep groan leaving his throat. You’re still laying there, eyes pinched closed in pleasure as you create a puddle of drool around your mouth. Whisps of hair stick to your face, falling out of the braid Johnny had done for you. He should redo it, keep it in place for the few days still left of your heat. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when John grips his throat, pulling him back upright. John’s finger is still in his ass, moving with the thrusts of his hips. “Gonna make her cum again?” John growls, licking Kyle’s lips. Their kiss is rough and sloppy, spit passing between them as they lick at each other’s mouths. 

Kyle groans as John pulls the finger from his ass, gathering more slick before pressing two back in. “Shit,” He curses, his hips stuttering against your ass. 

You cum around him again, legs nearly giving out. He clings to your hips, keeping you up. He understands why you carry such nasty looking bruises around your hips after your heat now. It’s not just John’s iron grip, it’s to keep you steady. 

“That’s it.” John growls, fucking his fingers into Kyle’s ass, opening him up. 

Kyle’s cock twitches in anticipation, his hips driving into your ass to hasten his own orgasm in excitement for what’s coming next. 

Kyle’s body does give out as his orgasm slams into him, his hands just barely managing to catch him before he falls into you. Your own body trembles, squeezing around him, milking every last drop. Your legs give out, your body slumping onto the bed. Kyle follows you, keeping his cock inside you. You’re tensed around him, still seeking what he can’t give you. It has to be torture, your body desperate for a knot, for some relief to the pain you must be in, yet Kyle can’t stop. He can’t have mercy on you, not yet. 

It’s addicting, the feeling of fucking you during your heat. He gets the insanity alphas seem to be overwhelmed by during an omega’s heat. It’s not just the pheromones driving the mating instinct, not the sweet scent that drives them crazy. The feeling of your body, the way your pussy sucks him in all wet and hot...for a moment he does wish he could knot you, just to feel what it’s like. 

John pushes a hand into his back, pressing him fully on top of you. Kyle moves onto his elbows, just preventing you from taking his full weight. You’re hot under him, skin feverish and slicked with sweat. His cheek rests against your damp hair, one of his hands slipping up the bed. He brushes your drool slick skin with his thumb, your shallow gasps pressing your back up against his chest. 

“Please....please...” You whine, pushing your ass back against him. 

“Easy.” John says, kneeling over both of you on the bed. His hand slips down between your legs, gathering the slick still seeping out around Kyle’s cock. 

The wet sound of John smearing your slick on his cock is loud in the silence, Kyle’s cheeks clamping in anticipation. You’re clenching around him, almost begging him to move again, but it won’t be him in control anymore. 

Not that he really was in control in the first place. 

John presses his tip against Kyle’s hole, the beta pressing his face into your hair as he groans. His own hand grips the sheets as John presses further in, shifting closer to Kyle’s ass as he works himself into the tight passage. 

“Fuck...” Kyle whines, grinding his hips against your ass. You whine softly at the sensation, pressing against him as much as you can with their combined weight pinning you down. 

“That’s it.” John groans, pressing in further. “Fuck...you can take it.” 

John begins moving his hips shallowly, thrusting further and further into Kyle’s ass. Kyle feels a bit like you, unable to do much but lay there and take it as John begins to fuck his ass. John’s thrusts push him into you, his cock grinding into your pussy. Their combined rocking has your clit rubbing against the bed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. 

You cum twice around Kyle’s cock as John fucks him, his hips slapping against Kyle’s ass. John's hands grip Kyle’s hips tight enough Kyle might sport bruises of his own after this. Deep growls rumble in John’s chest, echoing almost in time with his thrusts. Kyle feels like whimpering from the combined pleasure of your pussy clenching around him and John’s cock driving into his ass. He can’t think anymore feeling just as out of it as you look. 

For a moment Kyle is worried you might have passed out under him, and he lifts himself higher up on his elbows, ready to tap out in concern. You shift under him as he presses up, trying to push yourself up too, arching against Kyle’s chest. He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as you move, unable to do much still except whine and plead. 

“Please, please, please,” You repeat it like a mantra, head bending back as your body spasms, the sweetest moans falling from your lips. “Alpha!” 

You cry out for him as slick and fluid gushes out of you, your hips lifting off the bed as you push your ass against Kyle. John lets out an animalistic growl as he picks up the pace, fucking Kyle so hard he nearly sees stars. 

“I’ve got you,” John grunts, bending over Kyle’s back. “I’ve got you.” 

Kyle can feel it, worry flooding through him for a moment as the base of John’s cock swells, pushing against the ring of his ass. He’s never taken a knot before, never had a chance to. He’s not sure he wants to as the feels the size of it. He might tear in half. 

Instead John pulls out of him, grunting as he jerks his cock until he’s spurting his hot cum across Kyle’s ass. You’ve gone limp beneath him again, your only movement the slow push of your hips backwards against him. Kyle gently turns your head so your face isn’t pressed into the mattress. The last thing they need is you accidentally suffocating yourself. He can’t help but wonder if John has enough awareness to do the same, or if suffocation is a fear he should worry about during your heats. He hadn’t even thought of that during your first heat. 

John slaps his ass, getting his attention again. “Off.” He says, pushing Kyle to the side. 

Kyle gets the memo, his cock sore as he pulls out of you, flopping over to the side. John drags a hand up your back, the motion very soft and intimate compared to the rough fucking you both had just taken. John wraps his arms around you, lifting you up against his chest. You let him move you, limp again in his arms, your head pressing back against his shoulder. Slick still dribbles out of you, mixed with Kyle’s cum. 

“Over here. On your back.” John directs Kyle and he moves despite his own exhaustion, laying where you had just been. The bed is wet, the sheets soaked through. Kyle silently thanks whoever created plastic heat protectors for mattresses as he settles on his back. 

John lets you flop to the side, Kyle grateful you just miss smacking your head against the wall. You’re staring at him, eyes lidded as you continue to pant. Your hand slips down between your legs, fingers pressing into your pussy despite the fucking you had just taken, the fucking you’ve done since your heat started. John tugs him further down the bed, his knees bent and feet against the footboard. His cock twitches as he waits patiently for what’s going to come next. 

John tugs you up, a whine leaving your lips as your fingers are forced out of you. He maneuvers your body into place, kneeling over Kyle’s face. Excitement thrums in his veins as slick dribbles out of you, dripping onto his chin. He licks his lips, dipping his tongue down his chin to try and get a taste of it again. 

Kyle feels like he may be in heat as John pushes you forward just slightly, his arms wrapped around your middle as his cock presses into you. His knot has deflated for now, his length slipping easily into your slick pussy. Your hands grip the headboard as John begins to fuck you, holding you up over Kyle’s face. Kyle sticks his tongue out, catching your slick and the remnants of his own cum as John’s thrusts force it out of you. Despite the soreness of his cock it’s twitching back to life, the taste and scent of you on his face nearly driving him over the edge. 

You let out the most delicious sounding whines as your alpha finally fucks you, promising you what Kyle can’t: temporary relief from the fire in your veins and the ache between your thighs. A knot. Your legs shake around his head, Kyle’s hands coming up to grip the backs of your knees. He wouldn’t care if you dropped on him. He’d take a broken nose if it meant he’d get to taste your slick from the source again. He could always text Dr. Keller to come and patch him up, though he’d have to tell her how it happened. 

He doubts she’d care. 

John keeps his hold on you tight though, keeping you up as he fucks into you roughly, the bed shaking from the force of his thrusts. You tremble above Kyle as you cum again, more slick gushing out around John’s cock. It’s obscene from his angle, John’s cock driving into your sopping pussy, slick oozing out around his cock, wetting your thighs and John’s thighs and Kyle’s face. He licks as much as he can from his face, basking in the sweet taste of you raining down over him like manna from heaven. 

John groans, his cock twitching as he cums inside you, his hips pressing tight against your ass. Your legs nearly give out again, Kyle’s grip tightening around your thighs instinctively. John pulls out of you, quickly lowering you over Kyle’s mouth. He doesn’t have to say anything as Kyle’s hands slide up to grip your hips, holding you in place as he begins to lick up the slick and cum seeping out of you. 

It’s a musky, sweet concoction, savory and sweet on his tongue. John is still holding you up, keeping you steady as you twitch over Kyle, sensitive and dripping all over his face. Your knees squeeze Kyle’s head as you cum again, Kyle having to turn his head to breathe for a moment as you nearly waterboard him with your slick. 

Kyle licks every last drop of your cum and John’s. He could lay here, licking your slick all day, but he knows that would be near torture for you. No matter how many times he can make you cum, he can’t give you what you need. 

He pushes you up slightly, back into John’s hold. “Do it.” He gasps, taking in deep breaths after nearly being drowned in your slick. “Give her what she needs.” 

John pulls you back, backing up slightly as Kyle moves up the bed more. Your slick is still coating his face, dripping down his chin to his neck and chest. John bends you over Kyle’s chest, letting you rest there as you present for your alpha, somehow still able to hold yourself up. Omega instincts he supposes, giving you the strength to present all pretty and dripping for your alpha. Kyle’s fingers brush your burning skin, your entire body soaked in sweat. You’re still rocking your hips, trying to push back against John. How you’re even awake, let alone still moving is a miracle to him. Another wonder of omega biology. 

You let out a content sigh as John presses back into you, his hips immediately snapping against your ass as he sets a near brutal pace. He’s been fighting it as well, fighting that urge to knot you as soon as he can. Kyle feels honored, having this opportunity, sharing this moment with the two of you. His research has paled in comparison to seeing it in person. He understands it better now, understands the two of you and how you fit together perfectly in this moment. Your body responds naturally to your alpha’s, pulsing around John’s cock as you seek out his knot. John brings you endless amounts of pleasure, both of you ruled by your instincts which provide you both with an intense stamina. 

Kyle doesn't have that stamina, but he doesn’t mind. He can’t even imagine doing this for a day, much less a week. Yet, despite his exhaustion, his cock still continues to twitch, half hard as he holds John’s gaze. His alpha’s eyes are dark, focused and intense. Growls leave his lips, rumbling through his chest. You answer with your own whines, only driving the animalistic instincts within you both. You’re lost in your heat now, just as John is lost in his rut, only bordering on awareness because of Kyle’s presence. 

Had Kyle not been in here, he knows John would have had you in this position for the next hour, fucking you relentlessly until he could finally knot you and bring both of yourselves a little relief. Kyle would have stayed out in the hallway for a while, letting you both rest and John care for you until he decided it was time to check on you both and clean things up a little. 

You’re both close. He can tell by the way you shake over him, hands pushing into his chest as you try to lift yourself up, fingers scratching at his skin, but they can’t get enough of a grip to hurt. John is close too, deep growls rumbling in his chest as he pulls back into his thrusts. His knot must be swelling, pushing against your entrance. 

“Please...Please alpha!!” You cry, trying to push back against him. “Need it!” 

“Need that?” John growls, grinding against you. “Need my knot?” 

“Please!” You whine pathetically, writhing over Kyle. 

He wants to watch, he wants to see John’s knot push into you, spread you open, push in until you’re locked in place. “Let me see.” He breathes, still holding John’s gaze. “Let me see it.” 

John understands even in his hazy state, bending down to lift you back up against his chest. Kyle can see it, his swollen knot pushing against your pussy with every thrust of his hips. You’re crying, begging incoherently for it, trying to push down on it. 

“Shhhh,” John shushes you, his lips brushing your cheek. “Alpha’s got you.” 

The words nearly have Kyle cumming again, his balls tightening as John reassures you, promises you he’ll give you what you need. Your neck bends back, your head pushing against John’s shoulder as he begins to lower you while pushing his hips up, fighting the natural resistance as his knot spreads you open. The slight tapering of it makes it easier, easing your pussy open in preparation for the widest part. You’re shaking, body almost spasming as he presses his knot into you, your pussy spread almost impossibly wide as he slips all the way in, groaning as he locks in place inside you. Kyle can see your pussy spasm, your eyes rolling back as you cum again around him, the last bit of slick dribbling out of you before the rest is trapped inside you by your alpha’s knot. 

John doesn’t let you drop this time, instead lowering you down gently against Kyle’s chest, moving with you. The dark intensity of his eyes has lessened, softening back into the blue he recognizes. John gently moves you off Kyle’s chest, shifting to the side so you’re lying next to the beta. Kyle turns onto his side facing the two of you, his body covered in slick and sweat and your drool. The heaviness of your combined scents has faded a bit in the air, not quite as intense as it had been even just moments ago. 

He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavily as the two of you. You’ve fallen unconscious, or at least you look like you have as you lay there limply, eyes closed, sweaty with drool still wet on your chin. “Thank you.” He says, his gaze meeting John’s again. “Thank you for letting me do this.” 

The corners of John’s lips pull up in a smile. “I’m glad you got to experience it. I doubt she’d complain if you wanted to stay.” He says, trailing his fingers down your arm. You twitch just slightly, and Kyle can imagine how overstimulated you must be from everything. 

Kyle breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I could handle much more.” 

John does smile now, his eyes flickering downwards. “One more?” 

Kyle swallows as John reaches for his throbbing cock, nodding in agreement. He shifts slightly closer as John’s warm hand wraps around his length, his thumb teasing Kyle’s leaking slit. Kyle sighs softly, his cock sensitive from the intense fucking it had just experienced. He’s gone for longer, but it hadn’t been like this. You squeezing around him, tightening like a vice as you came, sucking him in as your body searched for a knot. 

John begins to move his hand, pumping Kyle’s cock. He won’t last much longer, nearly burning with overstimulation and sensitivity. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curses softly, eyes squeezing closed as his balls tighten, the wet thwack of his cock filling the air. It’s damp still from your slick and the mixture of his cum and John’s. 

He cums with a moan, spilling on his chest and the bed. He’s surprised there’s anything left, a whimper leaving his lips as John continues to move his hand, working him through his orgasm. John squeezes the base of his cock before releasing him, lifting his hand to Kyle’s face. Kyle licks the bit of his cum that leaked onto John’s thumb before leaning into his touch. 

“Good boy.” John praises, his eyes hooded with exhaustion. 

The base of Kyle’s spine tingles from his alpha’s praise, but he can’t even bring himself to think about getting hard again, much less actually doing it. 

You let out a soft sound, your eyes cracked open as you stare up at Kyle. He meets your gaze, surprised to see you still conscious. Your hand lifts weakly, thumb pressing against Kyle’s lips before it falls back to the bed. “Pretty.” 

Both Kyle and John chuckle as you drift back out of it, John keeping one arm tucked under you, the other reaching over to pull Kyle closer. He should get up, grab you all electrolyte drinks and nutrition bars but he can’t quite get his body to move. Instead he lays there, staring at you both as you drift in and out of sleep during your quick moment of relief and clarity. John is purring quietly, the sound so different to the deep, animalistic growls that had just been rumbling in his chest. 

You’ll be back at it soon, needy and desperate to fuck like you haven’t been for almost two straight days. There’s still at least three more days to go, four if you’re unlucky. Then he’ll have to worry about things after your heat ends. It had been rough the first time, and he can imagine it will be again, especially with the week you had before your pre-heat started. He’ll call Dr. Keller again after it’s over, let her come and help you, make sure everything is alright. He doubts anything will go wrong, that John would let anything happen to you. 

“Alpha’s got you.” 

The words still ring in his head. The sincerity, the promise in them. He really does have control, he does make sure you’re safe and well cared for, he does catch you when you fall. Not just during your heat, but outside of it. The difference between John and Simon is only getting clearer as you begin to bond with the pack’s second alpha. 

John is the caretaker, the comforter whose strength comes from his heart and his emotional control. The one who can stay calm and lead even in the most dire situations. He’s seen it in the pack, and he’s seen it out in the field. His dominance is soft and he’s only harsh when the need arises. 

Simon is the protector. He’s rough around the edges, a man of action not comforting words. A clear minded leader, but one well versed in raw power and violence. He’s abrasive and standoffish, yet fiercely protective of those he deems his. 

They can see it the most now with you. John is the one you turn to when you need comforting words and to be held. Simon is the one who looms like a protective shadow, a silent threat behind you. 

Yet he can see the softening around Simon’s harsh edges, those walls he’s built up since you arrived crumbling down around the two of you. It’s not just in his physical acceptance of you, but the mental acceptance of you being a part of the pack, you being a part of him. 

He hopes Simon does do it. He hopes Simon will claim you someday, let you bring together both halves of the pack completely. He knows Simon wants to. Johnny has talked about the yearning, the stares, the lingering. You’d let him. You probably want him to yourself. Yet he knows Simon will hold off, torture himself with it until he has no choice but to give in. 

It’s a pattern, a fatal flaw of his. 

It will happen eventually though. They all know it. 

It’s quiet. Has been for nearly an hour. It’s been a while since he’s checked on you both, forcing a nutrient bar into John’s hands as Kyle sat by the bed feeding you one. Neither of you had been interested in eating, but had begrudgingly chewed the indistinguishable dried mush of nutrient-rich foods shaped into a bar. Kyle had tried a bite of one just to see what it was like. 

It wasn’t good. 

He had taken it as a sign the end was near. The thumping of the bed against the wall had slowed, losing the ferocity with which it had steadily thump-thump-thumped against the wall for the last five days. Even the moans and groans and growls have quieted, and the breaks between rounds have gotten longer and longer. 

He gets off his cot, padding silently to the door. He opens it, slipping in before closing it quietly. You and John are cuddled together on the bed. You’re shivering, the blanket he’d folded and draped over the footboard five days ago is draped over you both. 

Kyle steps up to the bed, John’s eyes opening. He looks tired, eyes slightly red and bags hanging heavy under them. You both have to be exhausted, physically and mentally. He presses his hand to your forehead, a soft whine leaving your lips. John gently shushes you, tightening his hold around you. Your temperature is considerably lower than it has been, even a few hours ago. Kyle lifts the blanket for a moment, checking the two of you. John’s knot has deflated and the only thing still leaking out of you is a mixture of leftover slick and John’s cum. 

“I’ll go start the bath.” Kyle says, letting the blanket drape over you again. 

He heads into your bathroom, starting the water in the tub. He waits until it gets warm before putting the stopper in, letting it fill. He opens the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the epsom salt Dr. Keller recommended to help with the soreness. He’s used it himself, the few times he’s had a bath in the last few years, mostly after missions when he’s been particularly sore, bruised and aching after taking a beating physically and mentally. He’d used lavender scented salts to try and calm his mind, but he’d chosen to go with unscented for your heat, knowing the added scent may confuse you. You’ll need your alpha’s scent close to ground you in the disoriented state you’ll be in for the next couple hours. 

He pours some salt into the bath, stirring it with his hand until it’s dissolved. He seals the bag, slipping it back in the cupboard before pushing himself to stand. He heads back into your room, pulling the blanket back again before helping John off the bed. They try not to disturb you too much, John flinching at the whine you let out as his warmth disappears. Kyle knows he doesn't want to leave you, but you both need the bath to help with the sore muscles and keep them from locking up after so long. You also need it to help with the sudden drop in your temperature. 

Kyle eases John into the warm water, helping him sit in the tub. He wishes it was a bigger tub as his alpha’s long legs bend at the knees, unable to stretch out completely. They’ll want a longer, deeper tub in the seaside cottage you’ve dreamed of. Maybe one with jacuzzi jets. Kyle turns off the water, John leaning back against the tile wall, his eyes half closed. 

Kyle pushes himself up to stand after a moment, heading back to the bed to get you. You’re shivering, letting out quiet whines as you search out your alpha in your confusion and disorientation. 

“I know, I know.” He tries to soothe you, projecting his beta scent into the air. It won’t be enough, but it at least offers up some comfort in your state. You still need your alpha even though your heat is over. 

He scoops you up, wincing as you whine in pain, but he knows it’s necessary. You need the warm water to help keep you stable, and a moment with your alpha to help get you grounded. 

He eases you into the tub, John’s legs parting to make room for you as Kyle settles you against his chest. Your alpha wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as you whimper softly. Kyle makes sure the two of you are settled before getting back up, ensuring the towels are ready before heading back into your room. 

He pulls the sheet off your bed, crusty and still slightly damp from the week of near nonstop fucking. He knows some of those crusty spots are his own cum, yet he still can’t quite believe it really happened. He’s spent the last few days thinking about it, pinching himself to remind himself it wasn’t a dream. He really did get to experience some of your heat. 

He can’t get the image of John’s knot pressing into you, your puffy, slick pussy spreading wide around it. The way your body shuddered, the relieved moan as you finally got what you wanted, what you needed. It was a beautiful sight, and he wishes he had Johnny’s talent so he could paint it and keep it forever. 

He bundles your clothes in the sheet along with the blanket to take them to the wash, cleaning up the wrappers and bottles and adding them to the trash bag he’d started. He pulls the plastic heat protector from the bed, balling it into another trash bag. He packs the bundle of laundry to the laundry room, starting the washer before taking the two bags of trash out and stuffing them in the bin to get picked up later this week. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of them goes missing, some young, desperate alpha pulling it out to jerk off to your scent. 

It makes his nose scrunch up in disgust. 

He heads back to your room, pulling the clean sheets out of the top of your closet, remaking the bed. He puts your comforter back on the bed, folding your blankets and putting them at the end of the bed. He stacks your pillows and stuffed animals back in place as much as he can remember, though he knows you’ll remake your nest later once you’re more aware. Right now it’s important you be surrounded by the comfort of familiar scents. 

He makes sure everything is as back in place as it can be, pulling a shirt out of your closet for you to change into once you’re out of the bath. He’s not quite sure whose it is, the only smell coming off it is the scent of laundry detergent. It’s soft after being washed quite a few times, likely one of the first you got from them, or at least one you’d stolen early on. You’d cut the tags out, something you’ve done with almost all of your clothes. He can’t blame you. If he could, he would do the same. 

He heads back into the bathroom once everything looks as back to normal as it can, kneeling next to the tub. 

“How do you feel?” John asks. 

Kyle nearly laughs at the question. He should be the one asking him that, but of course John would be worried about the rest of his pack before himself. “Not bad.” He answers. “Tired, but nothing compared to how you have to be feeling right now.” 

John huffs out a laugh, gently stroking your hair as you whimper softly. He’s taken it out of the braid, managing to untangle it a little. “This is the hardest part, I think.” 

Kyle nods. “I can imagine.” He grabs a washcloth, squirting some of your strawberry scented soap onto it before he begins gently scrubbing your skin, attempting to get some of the dried fluids off. 

“Fucking nonstop for days in a lust induced haze is easy.” John says, shifting you slightly so Kyle can reach more of your skin. “It’s coming down from it, when you start to feel the effects of fucking for days nearly nonstop that it really starts to settle in. The aches, the pains, the exhaustion from almost no sleep, the hunger, the thirst.” He shakes his head. “Maybe I’m just old.” 

Kyle makes a face. “You are getting up there.” 

John gives him a playful glare, shaking his head. His face softens as he looks at Kyle, dutifully cleaning up after their five day instinct-induced haze. “Thank you, for earlier. Giving her what she wanted.” 

Kyle nods. “Of course. Couldn’t turn down a chance to experience it, and I wouldn’t want to leave you with an upset omega during her heat.” 

John snorts quietly. “I doubt she’d have been upset for long. Probably doesn’t remember most of it.”

Kyle hums, John helping him get you sitting up so he can rinse your back and attempt to get some of the dirt and fluids out of your hair. A part of him knows that’s true, but a part of him hopes you will remember at least some of it. He’ll never forget it, his mouth watering slightly as the memories of your slick on his tongue, dripping onto his face. John fucking you over him, letting you drip all over him. It may be a bit selfish of him, but he wants to experience that over and over, every time you sit on his face, every time he fucks you, every time John fucks you in front of him. 

Kyle helps hold you up, wincing at your whines both in pain and from the loss of your alpha’s touch as he scrubs the dried slick off of his skin. The water is murky from the mix of soap, slick, and cum coming off of you both. The water is starting to get cold as he rinses John’s hair, making sure to get the soap off of you both. 

“Ready?” He asks, reaching down to pull the plug. 

“No.” John says, lips tugging up in a half smile, likely all he can manage in his exhausted state. “But the bed is more comfortable than the tub.” 

Kyle grins at him, slipping his hands under your arms, and with the help of John, he gets you standing. John twitches at your whine of protest, Kyle holding you up as he tries to towel you off as much as he can. The dryer he can get you, the less cold you’ll be once you’re back in bed. You’re still shivering despite the bath, your face pressing against Kyle’s chest in search of any warmth you can get. 

Kyle scoops you up, carrying you to the bed. You let out a whine as he eases you down onto the edge of the bed, but he shushes you gently, quickly drying your hair as much as he can. He pulls the shirt over your head, pulling your arms though the holes before shifting you to the head of the bed. He pulls the comforter over you, letting you sink into the softness of your stuffed animals before he heads  back to the bathroom. 

John has gotten himself standing, leaning against the wall as he dries himself with the other towel. Kyle drapes one of his arms over his shoulder, helping guide him back to the bed, lowering him onto the edge. He finishes drying John off before he grabs a pair of boxers from your dresser. He’s not sure whose they are either, but they fit decently enough for now. 

He helps John under the covers with you, his arms wrapping around you. You immediately gravitate towards him, pressing against his chest. John holds you tightly, shushing your quiet whimpers. 

“Here.” He passes John an electrolyte drink. “Keep hydrating yourself. I’ll go scrounge up some real food.” 

“You’re a good man, Kyle.” John says. “A good beta.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Kyle says, looking over the two of you again before leaving the room in search of food. 

You’re crying when he returns. 

He’s expecting it this time, less shocked by your shuddering breaths and quiet sobs. John has shifted you both, his back against the headboard, your body curled up between his legs. There’s a stack of blankets wrapped around you, and one of your stuffed bears clutched tightly against your chest. John is purring softly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he tries to soothe you through the disorientation and sudden drop in hormones as you become more aware. 

“I let Dr. Keller know.” Kyle says, setting the tray of food down on the nightstand. “She’ll be here soon. Wants to do a quick checkup.”

“Fine with me.” John says, shifting you just slightly so he can set the tray in his lap. You let out a whimper at being moved, John’s purr intensifying until you settle again. “I’m starving.” He says, picking up the fork. 

“Johnny went and picked up lunch.” Kyle says, pulling your desk chair over to sit next to the bed. 

John chews the bite of food in his mouth. “How are they?” 

A smile tugs at Kyle’s lips. “Holding up. Johnny’s got a noticeable limp to his step.” 

John lets out a quiet chuckle. “I’d imagine so. Might have to mark him down as a casualty.” 

“I don’t think he’d complain.” Kyle says. “I can’t imagine any of us will be doing much for the next few days.” 

John shakes his head. “Definitely not. You and Simon are probably in the best shape. You’ll have to hold down the fort.” 

“We’ll do our best.” Kyle says. 

John eats his food eagerly, managing to get a couple bites of potato and some peas into your mouth. You’re aware enough to chew them a few times, probably not wanting to eat in your current state, but your body knows you need to. He’s glad omegas have the drive to eat as much as they can before their heats. You might not survive if you didn’t. Not on those nutritional bars. 

Kyle takes the tray once John is finished, setting it on your desk for now. He’ll give it to Johnny to take back when they go for dinner. John adjusts you against his chest again, resting his chin on your head as he goes through his emails and messages. You shift in his arms, pressing your face into his neck, your tears sliding down his skin. He rubs your back, keeping you pinned against him as he quietly purrs, trying to soothe you. It hurts them both that he can’t, but Kyle knows it’s a natural response. He doesn’t blame you. It must be so jarring not remembering, and all the physical things changing so rapidly, and adding on top of that the pain? He’d probably cry too. 

The knock at the door is soft and quiet, yet you still startle at it, jumping slightly in John's arms. He gently shushes you as a whimper chokes out through the tears. 

Kyle lets Dr. Keller in, closing the door behind her. The soft scent of beta fills the room, Dr. Keller doing her best not to startle you further in your disoriented state. John shifts you slightly so she can see you better. You let out a whine of indignation at being moved, the quiet purr still rumbling in John's chest. 

Dr. Keller sets her bag on the floor before kneeling next to the bed. “Hi honey.” She says, opening up her bag. “Still pretty out of it, huh.” 

The tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, your eyes barely open as you stare at her. You’re still leaning heavily against John’s chest, unable to hold yourself up. Dr. Keller brushes the hair away from your face before taking your temperature, holding the digital thermometer up to your forehead. 

She glances at the screen when it beeps, her brows furrowing just slightly. “A little low,” She says, putting the thermometer back in the bag. “But not concerning.”

John maneuvers you again, pulling an arm free from the blankets so she can check your blood pressure and pulse. 

“How did things go this time?” She asks, placing the blood pressure cuff around your arm. 

“Better.” John responds. “Smoother.” 

“Easier now that we know what to expect.” Kyle says. 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, taking your pulse and blood pressure. “Heart rate and blood pressure are normal.” She puts the monitors back into the bag, pulling out a pill bottle. “Muscle relaxers, same as last time. Her temperature is a little low, but that could just be a response to such a rapid drop in body temperature as well as changes in her hormones. If she starts feeling cold to the touch, or her extremities start turning blue, get her to emergency.” She zips up her bag, pushing herself up to stand. She gives John a pointed look. “Take care of yourself too. I recommend ice packs.” 

A smile quirks John’s lips, but he doesn't offer any arguments or disagreements. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” 

Kyle already knows he’s going to be sent for ice packs soon. 

Dr. Keller turns to face him, giving him a soft smile. Kyle hasn’t had many interactions with your doctor, most of them being during your heat and after. Yet, he can’t help but feel comforted by her presence. Maybe it’s her ability to project her scent so much, enough to make even him feel relaxed, or maybe it’s just her calm demeanor, the way she always seems to be so confident and in control. 

“Same thing as last time. Check for blood, if she’s still unresponsive or refusing food after a couple of hours, call me.” She says. “You did a good job, again. You should be proud.” 

Kyle smiles. “I am. Thank you, doctor.” 

He sees her out of the barracks, standing in the cool air for a moment before he closes the door, heading back to your room. 

You’re tucked against John’s chest again, curled up as tight as you can. John has shuffled down the headboard a bit, relaxing back against your pillows. You’re still crying, but it’s been reduced to mostly sniffles. He steps up to the bed, running a hand over your head. He wants to braid your hair again, keep it from tangling but he wouldn’t dare move you right now. His hand moves lower, wrapping around John’s wrist, his thumb brushing his alpha’s skin for a moment. 

“You should go do something.” John says, eyes half closed. “Get out of here and take a break for a bit. We’ll be fine. Going to take a long nap.” 

A smile tugs at Kyle’s lips. He loves moments like this, when his Captain, his alpha is sleepy. He’s softer, the usual sternness that paints his face gone, his shoulders relaxed. It’s partially due to the pain he has to be in, and the exhaustion after the last five days beginning to hit him now that your heat has passed. Kyle squeezes his wrist for a moment before letting go. He’s a bit unsure of what he should do, after standing watch and taking care of the two of you for almost a week. It feels strange to leave now, especially with the two of you so vulnerable. 

John’s hand wraps around his wrist before he can move away, and he turns to look back at his alpha. “Grab me an ice pack first.” 

Kyle’s lips tug up in a smirk. “Of course, sir.” 

He heads to the rec room, pulling one of the larger ice packs out of the freezer before heading back to your room. He doesn’t bother closing your door this time, letting the room air out just a bit as he goes to your bathroom. He grabs a hand towel from under your sink before wrapping it around the ice pack. He pushes the cabinet door closed with his foot before heading back into your room. 

He pulls the stack of blankets and your comforter up just enough to slip it underneath, feeling blindly as he situates it against John’s crotch. The alpha lets out a quiet sigh as he settles the ice pack in place, the cold already beginning to sink through the towel. 

“Thank you.” He says to Kyle, eyes half open as he stares up at his beta. 

“Get some sleep.” Kyle says, tucking the blankets around the both of you before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 

He stares at his cot, knowing he should start cleaning up, but he’s tired himself. He feels the urge to lay down again, but instead he heads for the laundry room, switching over the laundry. 

He stands in the middle of the hallway once he’s done, staring down one side towards the rec room. He could always sprawl out on the couch and turn on some daytime TV show and pass out there. It wouldn't be too terribly uncomfortable compared to the cot he’s spent the last five days on. 

He turns his head down the other side of the hallway, glancing toward Simon’s office. They have yet to show their faces, not since they left to grab lunch. He wonders if they’ve even returned, or if they chose to stay away for the time being. He chews on his lip for a moment before making his decision, turning down the hallway towards Simon’s office. 

The scent of alpha is strong down the hallway, the musky scent a relief after the sweet scent that’s permeated his thoughts. He doesn’t mind your scent usually, but after five days of the intoxicating sweetness, he needs a break. He needs something fresher, something...different. 

He pauses at the door, hesitating for a moment. He could use some company for a while. He’s been alone with his thoughts far too much. He takes the plunge, knocking on the door. There’s no immediate response, which he was expecting. 

“Just me.” He says, pressing close to the door as he waits. 

“Enter.” Simon’s gruff voice finally says, Kyle just catching it through the door. He might not have heard it if he hadn’t been so close. 

Kyle turns the knob, opening the door. The scent of sex and the thick musk of alpha hits him like a train as he leans into the office. Simon is seated on the edge of one of the cots, mask off and pants flung onto the floor by his desk. Johnny is on his knees between Simon’s legs, a distinct choking sound coming from his throat. 

Simon releases Johnny’s head, letting him pull back from his alpha’s cock. He takes in deep gulps of air, his hand still wrapped around Simon’s hard length. Kyle leans against the doorway, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. 

“They’re done and cleared, whenever you’re ready.” He tells them. 

Simon grips Johnny’s mohawk, still looking at Kyle as he pushes Johnny’s head towards his cock again. “We’re not quite done here yet.” 

“Looks that way.” Kyle says, and he can’t help the stirring in his pants as Johnny takes Simon back into his mouth. 

A smirk tugs at Simon’s lips as he stares at the other beta. “Want to lend a helping hand? Give poor Johnny a break?” 

Kyle’s throat goes dry at the idea, his eyes flickering to where Johnny has Simon in the back of his throat, lips wide around the alpha’s thick cock. Kyle can’t help but wonder how many times he’s been in that position over the last few days. Johnny lets out a whine as Simon pushes him deeper, his nose almost pressed against the light hair at the base of Simon’s cock. 

“Fuck.” Kyle groans, closing the door behind him. 

Simon wraps his fingers around Kyle’s arm as soon as he’s close, yanking him down so hard Kyle almost falls against him. Kyle has a clear view of Johnny sucking on his alpha’s cock, bobbing his head on the massive length from this angle. Simon’s hand is tight around his forearm, holding him still as he presses his nose against Kyle’s throat. A deep growl rumbles in his chest, his teeth nipping at Kyle’s skin. 

Of course. Kyle hadn’t showered or changed clothes after he left your room. 

He smells like you. 

Simon’s hips buck up, Johnny letting out a strangled gag before he pulls back off of Simon’s cock. 

“Fucking christ.” Johnny chokes out, coughing after getting hit in the back of the throat by Simon’s cock. “Gonnae kill me.” 

Simon doesn’t pay him any mind, his tongue too busy trailing Kyle’s throat, as if he could lick every inch of your scent from his skin. There’s a low rumbling vibrating in Simon’s chest, his grip tight around Kyle’s arm. 

Kyle’s own cock is throbbing, almost as much as it had upon seeing slick drip out of your pussy. Simon lets out a growl before releasing Kyle’s arm, gripping him around the back of his neck. Kyle lets out a quiet moan as Simon forces him down on his knees next to Johnny. The alpha stands from the cot, towering over them as his hard cock nearly throbs in their faces. 

He stares down at them, his eyes dark with lust. It’s not unlike how John’s eyes had looked when he was lost to his rut. 

“Such pretty boys.” Simon rasps, running a hand over each of their heads. 

Johnny purrs, leaning into his touch. Kyle feels the beginnings of a purr rising in his chest, his beta pleased by the large alpha’s praise. 

Kyle turns to face Johnny, gripping his fellow beta’s chin. He turns Johnny to look at him, that gleam in his eyes and stupid grin he gets when he’s subby on his face. Kyle leans forward, licking Johnny’s lips, silently conveying what he wants. Johnny responds immediately, opening his mouth to Kyle. Kyle drags his tongue along Johnny’s, tasting the familiar muskiness of Simon’s cum. 

They’ve been at this for a while. 

Johnny moans needily, his lips closing around Kyle’s tongue, sucking it into his mouth. Kyle groans, pressing his lips to Johnny’s, kissing him deeply. 

“Fucking hell.” Simon groans, fisting his throbbing cock as he stares down at the two betas making out in front of him. 

Drool drips down their chins, Kyle’s mind flashing back to the drool that had dripped out of your mouth, pooling on his chest. His cock throbs and he presses closer to Johnny, holding his face still as he licks the spit from Johnny’s skin. 

Simon groans, watching them. “If you two don’t get back to what you’re supposed to be doing...” 

Johnny grins playfully, both of them turning to face Simon with shiny faces. Simon’s cock is hard and angry looking as he holds it out for them, waiting patiently. Kyle slides his hand down Simon’s cock, replacing the alpha’s hand as he grips the base. Johnny and Kyle both lean forward, dragging their tongues down the sides of Simon’s cock, tracing the veins popping out. Simon groans as they work their way back towards his head, their tongues meeting at the tip. Their tongues swirl over the engorged head, flicking along his slit to gather the precum dripping from the tip of his cock. 

They pull away for a moment, Johnny licking the fluid from Kyle’s mouth before they kiss again, Kyle’s hand pumping Simon’s length. Kyle’s free hand sinks into Johnny’s mohawk, tugging him away from his lips. His hand is still pumping Simon’s cock as he guides Johnny back towards his alpha, Johnny’s mouth opening eagerly. Kyle guides Simon’s thick length into Johnny’s mouth again, using his grip on Johnny’s hair to move him along Simon’s cock. 

Johnny takes more and more of Simon into his mouth, choking slightly as Simon’s head pushes against his tongue. His throat has to be sore after this last week, but not nearly as much as his poor ass. Kyle pushes Johnny all the way onto Simon’s cock, the beta’s nose pressing into the hair around Simon’s cock. Johnny gags, his hands pressing against Simon’s thick thighs before Kyle pulls him off his alpha’s cock. 

Kyle quickly replaces him, licking Johnny’s saliva off the thick length before taking Simon’s cock into his mouth. He relaxes his throat, bobbing his head lower and lower on Simon’s cock. He’s always impressed by the alpha’s size, his own cock throbbing at the memory of John’s cock, the knot pressing right against his rim. 

Simon’s knot must be damn near colossal. 

Kyle presses down until he can feel it, Simon’s cock pushing on the back of his tongue. He pulls off of Simon’s cock, pumping the length for a moment as he breathes. Johnny takes his place again, sucking on Simon’s tip as Kyle cups Simon’s balls in his hand. Simon groans, a growl still rumbling in his chest as your scent still lingers in the air. 

“Gonna cum for us, alpha?” Kyle says, squeezing Simon’s balls gently. 

“Fuck...” Simon groans, the word long and drawn out. 

Kyle and Johnny switch places, Johnny fondling Simon’s balls as Kyle takes Simon’s cock in his mouth again. Simon reaches down, cupping the back of Kyle’s head as he begins to thrust into his mouth, the tangy precum dripping onto Kyle’s tongue telling him everything he needs to know. The alpha is close, his thick length twitching against Kyle’s tongue. Johnny massages Simon’s balls, holding onto them as Simon continues to fuck Kyle’s mouth, the beta suctioning around the alpha as best he can. 

Simon pulls out of Kyle’s mouth, pumping his cock rapidly as he cums, his seed spurting out and landing on Kyle and Johnny’s faces. Kyle licks the salty cum from his lips, wiping the bits from his face with his fingers before sucking them into his mouth. He leans over, dragging his tongue over Johnny’s skin, gathering the rest of Simon’s cum. 

Simon is breathing heavily as he watches Kyle lick Johnny clean before they kiss again, passing Simon’s cum back and forth on their tongues. Simon moans, squeezing around the base of his cock, trying to keep himself from getting hard again as he watches the two betas. 

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groans as Kyle licks his lips one last time before swallowing down Simon’s cum. “Never gonnae tire of that.” 

“Such a good boy.” Simon praises, running a hand over Kyle’s head. “A reward for taking such good care of our alpha and omega.” 

Kyle grins, practically preening from the alpha’s praise. 

They have no idea. 

NEXT ->

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[bluetimeombre]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ? ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˚୨୧⋆｡You go on a date and you know old man Logan is gonna hate it.

warnings: smut, daddy kink, rough, penetrative sex, old man logan (not a warning, a blessing really) praise, oral (male receiving)

You knew as soon as you walked back to the complex you were in trouble, you could practically smell it in the cold air of the night. The message only further iterated when you found Logan waiting outside for you.

‘A date, huh?’

It was only a small thing, some guy in your tiny diner asked you out and of course you were gonna say no at first- you had Logan, but did you really have him? Or was it just circumstances that had the two of you together.

Logan was older and he hated most things. Most of the time he was even gruff and short with you. It had been forever since he’d last touched you so you thought where was the harm.

It took less then five minutes for him to show you the harm.

He had you chest pressed against the wall, your dress hiked over your hips and his cock stuffed between your folds. He held your hips and thrusted without remorse, almost intent on hurting you.

‘You think a young fella knows just how you like it?’ He grunts in your ear, biting down on the flesh there. ‘You think this old man can’t give it to you like you want, huh bub?’

‘Please,’ your fingers scraped the wall.

‘You just wanted me to fuck you, is that it? C’mon, tel me baby.’

‘Yes!’

‘Yes what?’ He chuckled.

‘Yes I wanted you to fuck me.’

Logan pulled out for just enough time to spin you around before sliding into you again. He groaned at your walls fluttering around him and hoisted you further up. ‘Oh you’re such a needy slut, huh. You just had to go out with any cheap dude to get your way.’

Beyond the howl of the wind you could hear the slapping of skin.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, grounding yourself as your head slips against his. ‘Need you all the time.’

He chuckled and groaned at your walls clenching. ‘I know you do bub, just need your old man to take good care of you.’

You nod, moaning into him.

He kept on mumbling, branding you with his words.

‘Cunts only made for my cock, it can’t bare anything else.’

‘Only- fuck- only I can make you feel this good’

‘Never gonna let you go bub.’

It was a good thing you were once an x-men yourself and could get your leg up as Logan threw it over his shoulder, reaching that part that made you shiver. Your nails dug in and as his healing factors slowed, you drew blood.

‘Enough to bring a man to his knees,’ he groaned.

‘I’m gonna cum,’ you gasp.

‘That’s it, good girl, come all over this cock. Make me a happy man.’

He thrusted into you until you came and soon after he followed, pressing you into the wall as he grunted loudly into your shoulder.

∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴ ∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·.

That night sleeping had been hard, your mind and body replaying Logan’s touch. You had been up half the night touching yourself, wondering if Logan could smell you and would come help- but he didn’t.

So you went to work in the diner the next day. It wasn’t until the afternoon anything remarkable happened.

Logan walked through the door, jacket on and glasses perched on his nose.

You startled, he’d never visited you at work before. ‘Logan, what are you doing here?’

‘You have coffee right?’ He asked. ‘I want coffee.’

For the rest of the afternoon, into the evening he sat and drank coffee. He flicked through a paper or scrolled on his phone that he could barely work but he didn’t leave. He just kept drinking coffee.

You were on the close, only you. And Logan.

‘What are you doing here?’ You asked as he gave you his coffee mug.

‘Had to be sure you wouldn’t be tempted on another date,’ he said.

‘I’m not.’

He rose his brows, walking the length of the counter. ‘Did i remind you you only need me, last night, bub?’

Logan made his way around the counter, standing in front of you. He cupped your chin, tilting your head back.

‘Yes, Logan,’ you say over his grip.

‘Good.’ He kissed you, biting on your lip immediately to get you to open for him. He pressed you against the counter and dug his hood into you.

You gasped at the feel of him under his trousers, his cock heavy.

‘You think I didn’t hear you last night, begging for more,’ he said, breathless against your lips. ‘You want more, I can give you more princess.’

Before you knew it, he had you under the counter on your knees, his cock sliding against your tongue.

‘Fuck, Princess. I can’t ever let this mouth go to waste,’ he grunted. One of his hands was wrapped around your hair, guiding you slowly while the other gripped the counter.

He wished he could say he could go all nights, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. If you kept it up, he’d finish in minutes.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his jaw clenched. Beyond the radio, he could hear you gagging around his cock as he pushed further and further in. ‘That’s it bub, take it so well. All the way in, yeah.’

His balls dangled close to you, the hairs around his cock ticking you as you took him out and then back in, spit getting down your chin and over him. ‘Filthy little thing, aren’t ya?’

Suddenly, the bell over the door jingled.

‘Closed!’ Logan yelled.

‘I’m looking for Y/N,’ said the guy.

He felt you still.

You took him from your mouth but never had the chance to speak as Logan gripped your hair and forced his cock back through your lips.

‘What do you need her for huh?’ Logan asked. You were hidden so well the guy couldn’t see you, but you recognised his voice. You’d heard it draw on and on last night.

‘What are you, her father?’

‘I- shit- I take care of her if that’s what you mean.’

You wondered if the guy was suspicious why Logan was standing so close to the counter, gripping it with a hold that turned white. You moaned around his cock, testing your limits.

Logan stuttered.

‘Well I took her out last night and wanted to see what she was doing tonight?’ Asked the guy, voice edging on cocky.

You gripped Logan’s thighs and breathed from your nose, taking him as far down as you could.

‘She’s busy tonight.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Sucking me off, for starters.’

You grinned, taking his cock and liking it up and down.

‘Excuse me?’ He asked.

Logan looked down at you. ‘Almost there baby, just the tip now.’

You obliged, swirling your tongue over the tip before taking him half way and letting your hands work what you couldn’t take.

The guy scoffed. ‘Are you?’

‘About to finish in my pretty girls mouth, yea. You might want to beat it.’

He let go of your head as he groaned and came in your mouth just as the door slammed shut. You sucked every last drop, humming around him until he was trembling.

Once you were finished cleaning him up you stood back in front of him. ‘So, should I start calling you daddy?’

just a quick little thing because I drool over old man Logan

[ddejavvu]

Mean!Logan who fucks you dumb to the point all you know is how good he feels instead of Scott Summers 🤭🤭🤭

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, dumbification, dacryphilia, don't like, don't read.

"What's his name?" Logan asks thoughtfully, lips pursed as he waits for your response. You're quite unable to give him one at the moment- at least a coherent one, while his hips piston forward and back, driving his thick cock into you.

"Go on, tell me." Logan prods, bumping his nose into your temple. He's going at an impressive pace, grunting with each hefty thrust, "Do you even remember it?"

A cry escapes your lips as Logan pushes you over the edge, unceremoniously, mercilessly, and you claw at his biceps as you're thrust into your climax. Your brain shorts out with white hot pleasure, something like pain but sweeter searing in your belly as you unconsciously curl your hips up to meet Logan's cock easier. There's no point- he can't possibly go deeper - but your body moves instinctively. He feels so good that you need more.

"Cyclops ring a bell?" He asks, but your ears ring too loud for his voice to get through. Either that or your brain muffles it like wet cement is drowning your thoughts, and the only name etched into the thick sludge is Logan, Logan, Logan.

"Dickhead, maybe? Laser-brain, Goggles, One-Eye..." Logan lists his most frequently used nicknames for the mutant he'd caught cornering you in the kitchen, but all you can do is muffle your moans into the sweat-soaked fabric of Logan's wifebeater.

"Who did this to you?" He feigns concern, like he's interrogating you after a beatdown, his nose now trailing over the apple of your cheek as his lips ghost your own.

"I-aah! Logan," You whimper, now oversensitive to penetration.

"Yeah? Who?"

"Logan," You breathe, eyes bleary with tears as you breathe him in- the sight of his face, hard-set and firm. His smell- sweat and musk and sex all rolled into one. His touch, the constant pressure between your legs as he keeps his dick buried in your cunt, no longer moving his hips. His eyes- they're staring at you, drinking in the repeated moans of his name that come pouring from your mouth like blood from a wound.

"Smart girl." He says, and you're so out of your mind that you don't read the cruel sarcasm in it- the way he's teasing you as Scott's name has fled your near-vacant brain.

"Who else? Got another man in there?" Logan taps the side of your head, where your spinning brain works overtime, "No? What about in here?"

He places a hand on your pelvis, pressing down gently so that you feel the imprint of his dick inside of you clearer, harsher, more intense.

"Anyone else in here?" He asks, keeping steady pressure on your cunt until you squirm in penance, begging for mercy from his teasing.

"That's right. Keep it that way." He snarls, letting up on your pelvis and using the hand to cup your cheek, relishing in the way you thoughtlessly lean into it, so trusting, so devoted, "Mine's the only name you need to be sayin', sweetheart. Say his again and I'll make you wash your mouth out with my fuckin' dick 'till it's all you can taste for a week."

[monamipencil]

telling them that you have a crush on them !

pairings; hiphop unit x reader, established relationship. | a/n; random thoughts + plus this was a cute idea <3

౨ৎ SEUNGCHEOL !

“we need to talk.” seungcheol was initially scared by your sudden statement. he even needed to calm himself before navigating through whatever it is that bothered you.

he wanted to hold your hands as well, incase it makes it any better for you but you denied. “I have a crush on—” his mind goes blank, hearing the words fall from your lips. an instant jealousy courses through his blood and he visiby tenses till he hears your next words.

“on you.” you confess with a innocent smile and try not to laugh as seungcheol stares blankly, unable to process anything. “wait, what?” laughter shakes your body when the realisation dawns upon your boyfriends who also giggles shyly.

but he gets mad soon after and refuses to talk to you, till you give him enough kisses to last a life time.

౨ৎ WONWOO !

he sees it coming a mile away but plays along. he tries his hardest to suppress the smile that crawls on his face.

“soo, i have a crush,” you start in an almost shy tone which makes wonwoo’s lip quiver but he controls himself and hums. he notices you watching him, as if you’re carefully drinking in every detail of his visage.

he casts his head down, scratching his nape when he sees a small pout sit on your lips. he looks up, “yeah? who?” you smile widely at him, happy with his attention.

“it’s uhm, nevermind. it’s stupid.” he smirks, having caught you with a hook.

“you sure? you know, i have a crush on someone too.” your eyes snap to his, trying to find out if he's lying. then, it's a game of you trying to get the name from him and him from you.

“fine. i give up. i have a crush on you.” his hands fly to wrap around your waist. he holds your sulking figure and rubs his nose against your cheek in a loving manner. “i think it's fate, 'cause i have a crush on you too.”

౨ৎ MINGYU !

“what?” “i have a crush on someone.” a frown decorates his lips and he stares at you with furrowed eyebrows. why would you have a crush on someone when he’s right there?

he tries to laugh it, finding it ridiculous. but, he finds you staring deadpan at him. he tongues his cheek and asks who is it while hiding his hurt behind an annoyed smirk.

“i have a crush on you.” blinks once, twice and thrice before realising he got played. he closes his eyes, happy and annoyed with you at the same time.

“you find this funny?” he asks, eyeing your laughing figure with faux annoyed expression.

you hug him tightly, and he chuckles when he hears your muffled voice, “god, i love you so much.” he smiles, and grumbles an ‘i love you too’ back to you.

౨ৎ VERNON !

“nonu,” you call his name, to which he responds by turning to look at you with those innocent eyes. (this is the third time you're calling him, actually. he didn't hear you the first two times.)

“yeah?” he asks, reaching out his hand to hold yours. you interlock your fingers with him, and he draws circles on the back of your hand.

“i have a crush.”

he raises a lone eyebrow at you, trying to figure you out. he stops the movement of his thumb but his hand is still placed with yours. “really? on who?” he eyes you up and down. and you maybe regret your decisions now, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks.

“wait, i think i know. seungkwan?”

“why the fuck would i have a crush on your best friend?”

“i don't know. seems like a natural choice.”

he lists a bunch of names, only for you to shake your head. he rests his hand underneath his chin, deep in thought. suddenly, a light bulb lights up above his head. “hugh jackman! right?!”

“no! it's you, idiot.” he lets out a small ‘oh’ sound and you see a sliver of smile flicker on his lips. his cheeks turn a rosy pink and before you know you both are laughing. his hand intertwines back with yours but he's rather shy now with a seemingly permanent smile on his face.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be on the taglist!)

[scap34]

bottom! sub! Sukuna x top! dom! mean! sadistic! cursed spirit! male reader

Reunited after a thousand years <3

warnings: alcohol, cussing, degradation, mild blood, oral sex

Sukuna has awoken.

 That might have been a grim sentence to anyone else who’d attempted to capture the King of Curses. But not to you. You knew better. 

You dismissed the guard with a wave. The guard straightened out and left, his scent carrying notes of fear and apprehension. 

Currently there were only a few curses left alive since the Heian period. Sukuna and that brain parasite were two of them. You were another. 

You had known Sukuna long before he’d become the King of Curses. You knew him intimately well. You knew him well enough to know he'd come for you. 

You poured yourself a glass of whiskey, when the power cut off. You smirked into your drink as a shadow fell onto you, cast by the bright full moon. 

Footsteps echoed through the room as person, thing, radiating malice and cruelty walked towards you. The imposing aura of death and evil blanketing everything for a mile radius. It would have been more, but you were prepared. 

The footsteps stopped a foot from you. You didnt turn sipping your whiskey. The glass you were holding shattered, amber liquid that remained in the cup, spilling on the floor. 

Your lips curled into a smirk as you tsked. “That was rude, Sukuna.” The lights flickered and turned on. 

Your eyes finally went to look at him. Sukuna’s vessel looked the same as his original mortal body, before the four arms. Blood spattered his face, his shirt clean aside for three slashes. 

He looks at you, crimson-red eyes filled with malice and darkness. Yet something else was inside them, something you recognized. 

He took another step forward under your gaze. 

Knees hit the ground, and crimson eyes looked up at you. “Want,” he paused and licked his dry lips, voice hoarse and filled with need. “Want your cock.” he muttered almost reluctantly, yet his eyes gleamed fever bright with lust. 

Sukuna would come after you. You knew this. You’d also known why he’d come after you. You chuckled lowly, and reached over and carded your hand though soft pink hair. Sukuna shuddered at your touch, letting out a soft involuntary moan. 

You tightened your grip on his hair, till he was winching, shifting his thighs to hide his hardness. “You just woke up…are you that much of a slut, ‘kuna?” You purred darkly, enjoying the way Sukuna shuddered and his cock twitched in his pants at the degradation. 

“Yes,” he moaned hoarsely. “Want your cock, pl’ease.” He didn't dare reach for your cock, that strained against your own zipper. He gave you a pleading look, eyes half lidded, looking drowsy. 

Exactly how you wanted him. Sacrificing all those high level sorcerers and curses were worth it, since it brought out your baby’s slutiness and wore him down.

“Go ahead baby.” You purred. Hands immediately reached for your zipper pulling out your cock impatiently. Pink lips wrapped around your cock, sucking and gagging on your dick. 

Tears beading the corner of Sukuna’s red eyes, lashes fluttering as he bobbed his head on your hard cock eagerly. 

You watched him with a sense of pride and pity. Your poor baby was such a cock addicted slut, sucking your dick like a pro even after a century. You wonder how terrible it must have been for a whore like him to be locked away for so long. 

Your hand tightened around Sukuna’s hair and you pulled him fully onto your cock, making him gag around you as you facefuck him. Sukuna whines around your cock, nose pressed to your pelvis, suffocating on your cock. 

His mouth is a tight velvety heat. His usual scalding words, and threats gone from fatigue and lust. Yanking his pink locks, you buried your cock deep into his throat, moaning when his throat fluttered around your cock as he squirmed.

Tugging you cock back into his mouth you continue to fuck his face. His expression fucked dumb, eyes glossed over as tears dripped down. Swollen pink lips desperately sucking your cock.

What a slut. 

You stepped on his hand as he tried to touch his own aching cock. “Did I give you permission, slut?” He moaned around your cock, the vibration sending more heat to your stomach. 

You roughly thrust your cock in and out, face fucking him a few more times then pulled his head off. Teary red eyes glazed over with lust, met your eyes, saliva leaked out his open mouth. He whined as your cock left his lips already begging. 

His tongue stuck out, begging for cum, as he lapped at the head of cock, desperately. Kitten licks, that the All Powerful King of Curses would never admit to.

“Pl’ease, please, c’ck w’nt your cock,” he whined words slurred and hoarse from being fucked. You chuckled, and yanked his hair back to force him to look up at you. 

Crimson eyes met yours and you felt a warm rush of pleasure. Those eyes were familiar even with a different body. You knew him as much as he knew you. Connected for eternity, he’d run to you and you to him. 

You couldn’t help but caressing his swollen bottom lip, wiping a bit of salvia off and licking it off, tasting a mix of yourself and Sukuna. Your baby was back. And this time, they’d have to pry him from your cold hands. 

“Turn around, princess. You know what to do, just like before.”

[forsworned]

part one

cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???

author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care

Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.

The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.

Ping!

TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?

Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.

Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.

You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.

You: Yeah, I'm here.

TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?

"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.

You: Now works...what do you have in mind?

The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.

TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.

Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.

With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.

Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:

"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.

There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.

"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."

His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."

You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.

Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.

His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.

"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."

Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.

The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.

And it works.

As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.

Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”

You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips. 

“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”

It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man. 

“Say please,” You wave your wand around. 

He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”

And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit. 

There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now. 

Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin. 

As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.

“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”

He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.

“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself. 

He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”

And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture. 

There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.

Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”

You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”

He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”

And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.

“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.

You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.

He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.  

“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”

His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.

You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”

He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.

taglist: @fallen-angelslove @cinnabeanz @pricesugarwife @daikongirlie @firesgod @marierg

@multifand0midi07 @surenotsorry @forgottensomewhere @teenagellamaangel @nijiru @deliverancesix

@milk-man3000 @russellsimp @madzzz0797 @kittykatgorl @nerd-without-a-cause @mikasakuchiki @haleyaaah

@hiken-no-stark @shellyshellshell @livingoutsidethetardis @jemomgershippingco @kruegerismymalewife

@ki-ssshot @essentialbeats-blog @dmitriene

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, soft smut, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, daddy kink Simon Riley/female reader

If he could choose a way to die, this would be it.

He would choose to die right in this moment, where you're laying on your back in front of him, legs spread wide, chest heaving with the exertion of your second orgasm, limp and pliable, sweet as sugar. He'd choose to die in this room, with your name on his lips, the feeling of your body against his, your muscles seizing and hips jolting under his touch, the smell of your cunt in his nose, taste of your arousal on his tongue. He'd choose to die from happiness, elation, euphoria, the feelings so strong they feel like they might burst free from his veins and flood this room, spill from his heart like it's exploded.

He's mad for it. Mad for you. Allowed his madness to guide him, take over, control his vocal chords, his limbs. He's like a marionette, strings being plucked by none other but yourself, though you're none the wiser.

"Simon?" You whisper, very quiet, careful. You're nervous, he can tell. You've been nervous since he got you home and sent Johnny on his way, nervous ever since he laid you on your back and stripped you bare, ran his lips over every inch of skin possible, every pretty little lightning bolt, every single part you tried to hide.

"I'm here." He answers, taking your wandering hand with his own, squeezing it for good measure. You're floundering, wondering, eyes wide and a little lost, anxious at the lapse. "Just lookin' at you." He says, fingers stroking across your belly, following them with his mouth. "Don't think I've ever seen something so beautiful." You giggle, and it's soft, like the chiming of bells, the kind of music that angels would make, he thinks.

"Should I-" you turn to roll, like you're going to go facedown, or maybe up onto your hands and knees, and he stills you, forearms coming up to frame your face, thumb stroking along your furrowed brow line.

"No." He shifts your hip, settling you into a better position, and then strokes his cock, nudging it against your entrance. "I want to see your face." He wants to see your face, your eyes, your mouth, more than anything else in this world. Wants to see it everyday, wants to see it crying with bliss when he makes you come around him, wants to see it when he goes to bed and when he wakes in the morning. He wants to see it on a little paper picture, tucked up into his tac vest when he's away, wants to see smiling, giggling, content... happy. Safe. There will be plenty of time for the other stuff, for when he bends you over the couch, bends you over his knee, fucks you in the kitchen, in the shower, on the table. He hovers for a moment, soaking you in, blood thundering in his veins, through his ears, throbbing into his cock, and he's so hard it nearly hurts, but he can't rush this. He has to get it right.

"Simon." You whine, hips flexing, thrusting up so he feels the heat of your body, the wet heaven of your cunt. He grits his teeth.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He grunts, and then pushes, your eyes going wide, matching the round o of your mouth, fingernails tightening into his back, fluttering pussy trying to accommodate the stretch. He's big, bigger than you in many ways, he knows, and when your back arches, legs involuntarily folding, knees lifting, he traps you there, holding them steady so he can look down and watch the way he sinks into your body, cock disappearing inch by inch.

"Ohmygod ohmy- it's too- you're-" you gasp, and he leans down, slicking his tongue against yours, stealing your whimpers and moans, greedily drinking them up.

"I know, I've got you." He thrusts a little deeper, getting closer and closer to his hips being flush with yours. "You can take it." He goes slow, working you open, getting you used to him for as long as he can stand it, watching every little expression that falls across your face, every moment of bliss. "Is that good, sweetheart?" He noses at you, and you nod with a gulp, still holding onto him, arms trembling.

"Y-yeah. So good, so so good." You babble, nearly incoherent, cock drunk, and it feeds the reckless, hungry drive inside of him, encoraging him on, faster, until he's fucking into you with enough power that you're starting to inch up the bed moaning out nonsense vowels.

He gets lost, for a second, thinking about if you didn't have an IUD. Thinking about what it would be like, if he was breeding you, filling you with his come every night until it took, until you were growing his baby, round belly underneath a sweater, cradled in his arms in bed, giving Emmaline a sibling, making you a mama again, with him, for him. It shatters across his brain like the ricochet from a gun shot, white hot light searing inside his eyes, nearly making him come inside you right there until he pulls out with a deep breath, letting the head of his cock rest just inside your body as he collects himself, and then thrusts back in.

"Fuck!" You gasp, a little too loud, and you wince, eyes shocked. He puts his hand over your mouth, kissing your nose between where it pokes out between his thumb and forefinger.

"My good girl." He thrusts, and you moan, licking the salt of his palm. "My good," He's so deep, can feel where you end, where he's pressed against your cervix, and your eyebrows crinkle, tears gathering on your waterline. "sweet, mama. Doin' so good, taking this cock." Your eyes roll, and he drags himself along the silky heat of your walls, before plunging back in. "Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? This what you needed?" The word daddy almost slips, almost falls out like- 'is this what you wanted, for daddy to take care of you? Is this what you needed, for daddy to take you home and take care of this pussy- but he holds it in, reels in back just in time for you to nod as answer to his voiced question, and he pulls his hand away, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. "Tell me."

"Yeah, oh- Simon, yes-" you pant, a little squeaky, tear rolling down your cheek. You saying his name like this, with him so full inside you, fills him with fire, roaring heat racing through his muscles, and he grinds his hips against yours, making you groan, bucking against him when he finds your clit and glides his thumb across it, over and over.

"Do you wan' be my good girl?" He asks, pumping harder, pushing you the limit, and you cry out against his hand, nodding frantically, which he rewards with a smile, and another swipe across your clit. "Come for me. Let go sweetheart, I'm right here." He coos, still swirling your swollen bud in a circle, your legs practically steel around him, eyes brimming with tears. He'll take care of you. He'll give you everything. He'll never let you go, he swears, he swears, he swears... he doesn't stop, just keeps going relentlessly, fucking you as deep as he can as you come around his cock, exploding like a bomb, silently screaming into his palm. He's following you over the cliff of your orgasm a second later, nose pressed to your cheek, whispering insanity into your skin, half praying you won't be able to make sense of it. Whispers and vows of love, and protection, of care, promises and secrets, until the two of you are limp against one another, basking in the glow and heat of your bodies.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Just for a second, just to take a deep breath, preparing to pull out, to move on to what's next, cleaning you up, getting you in a bath or a shower, making sure you're comfortable, you're cared for, you're cherished as you ought to be. He closes his eyes, and it's just long enough for him to feel the shaking of your chest under his. Just long enough to hear the sniffle, the hiccup, his eyes opening in confusion, concern, cradling your face between his palms. "Sweetheart? What's wrong, what is it?" Panic stirs in his gut, and when you don't answer, his mouth goes dry, fear dousing him in a cold sweat. "Did I... did I hurt you?" When the only answer is the sound of your sobs, fat tears that stream down your cheeks, his heart cracks wide open in his chest.

Maybe he could very well die in this moment. But not from happiness. From agony.

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Hey there! Hope you’re doing well! I was hoping you’d do a Tyler Owens anything based off of “wear the hat, ride the cowboy”?

Ofcourse my dear <3. I haven’t written smut in a while, I’m sorry if this looks rusty.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x reader

Word count: 0.9k

CW: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, smut, f receiving, masturbation? Overstim, cowboy hats. Not proofread.

Calloused hands grip your waist, keeping you steady on his chest, your legs on either side of him. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself from the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Are you-“

“Yes, darlin’, I’m fine with this.”

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your abdomen, lingering before trailing his lips down, and down before he’s met with the plush flesh of your cunt. He places the hat from earlier on your head. You’re in nothing but a shirt of his and the cowboy hat now on your head.

“Take care of that for me?”

And all you can do is nod while his hands shift from your waist to the curve of your ass, pushing you forward, separating your legs just enough so you’re right above his face, your cunt on full display for him. His hot breath sends shivers up your spine as he reaches for your clit, giving it a few licks that has your head spinning.

“Tyler”

He feels the tension leave your body as he eats you out, lapping at your juices like a man starved. His tongue darting in and out of you at a steady pace, your hips pushing into his face as you try not to crush him- he could tell you were holding back from fully sitting on him. So, he brought one his hands down from your hips and down to you entrance, pushing a finger in, slowly then going back in but with two.

That surprises you, letting out an almost pornographic moan at the act. Your hands grab onto the headboard in front of you, hips now pressed flush to Tyler’s mouth. He lets out a groan, feeling you comply let go as your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers.

“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that,”

Your name falls off his lips as he worships the most intimate parts of your body, swallowing you whole and leaving you with nothing but shaking legs and a numb brain. His name repeats in your head, all you can feel is him. In your bones, in your blood, in you.

He’s no better than you right now, palming his cock through his boxers, the hard on leaking on his happy trail, covering the hair in a layer of his pre cum. He’s drunk on you, on the thought of making you fall apart just by his mouth alone, having you ride him.

“Tyler, fuckkk-“ god do you understand what you do him when you say his name like that?

“That’s it, cowboy- fuck- I’m close”

He can tell you’re close, the nickname has his cock twitching as you ride his face, his fingers still at play, his mouth teasing circles at your clit, occasionally bumping into his nose which makes you let out a small please.

He knows you’re close, and to be honest he is too, he’s barely touched himself but he knows that if he strokes himself even twice and watch you fall apart on his face, he’ll release right then and there.

And he does, a devious suck on your clit and his fingers reaching that one spot in you and you’re spasming, your throat sore but still managing to get out something between a gasp and a moan of his name. White clouds your vision as he drinks up your juices, hearing the squelch of your pussy around his fingers sending you over the edge of your orgasm.

It’s addictive the way you’re blabbering absolute nonsense, feeling the way his tongue flicks just lightly at your entrance and he knows you’re a goner when a second wave comes crashing down on you, the overstimulation making it even harder for you to see, all you can do is feel. Feel him. All over you.

“Jesus, fuck” he curses, you’re making a mess, still not done with your orgasm as your pussy squeezes out more and more into his mouth. He laps it all up though. Chin and neck wet from it as the rest drips down your thighs and onto the pillow where your knees rested.

He gives you a minute, to adjust and realise what just happened. And when you do, you’re looking down at his glistening face, the lower half of his face covered in you. A sheer glow covers his chin, droplets dripping down his neck but he doesn’t seem to care because he’s looking- no staring intently at your heaving chest and flushed cheeks and blown wide eyes.

God you looked ethereal from this angle.

And you’re a bit embarrassed to admit it, but he looks so hot like that, hazy green eyes blown out as he looks at you like you’ve just hung the fucking stars. You feel hear rushing to your cheeks as you look at the mess you’ve made. But that’s not even the best part because when you feel a slight wetness on your lower back, a very messy cock of Tyler Owen’s blesses your eyes, his happy trail and stomach covered in thick white cum and a swollen cock that was still throbbing as Tyler analysed the sight you were. R

“Hey there, cowboy.” Is all you can manage to say, with a sweet smile, your hand reaching down to wipe some of the wetness off his face before he flips you both. The hat now discarded on the other side of the bed. Crawling up to meet your lips with his. He swallow your moan, satisfied with the slightly bittersweet taste of you and your mouth.

You both come apart with a thin string of saliva connecting you, your hand finds its way into his hair, the other palming at his still hardened cock.

“Think you can do that again for me, cowgirl? When I’m inside ya?”

A/n; I kinda missed writing smut, but hey! We’re back in business soooo. Let me know what you guys thought of this. Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[dreaisgrayte]

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful tayū and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shred, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? He needed to find you or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs, and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cunt into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” You mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.” 

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.” 

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?” 

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.” 

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago. 

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink. 

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her. 

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting. 

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care. 

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long. 

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic. 

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not. 

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack. 

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week. 

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head. 

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath. 

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-” 

“Classified?” You finish for her. 

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...” 

The less there is to make you a target. 

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time. 

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.” 

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal. 

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military. 

That, and the excuse for violence. 

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented. 

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you. 

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together. 

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face. 

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.” 

You look nervous. 

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly. 

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega. 

His omega. 

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy. 

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand. 

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly. 

He doesn’t even want to think about that. 

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy. 

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand. 

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed. 

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.” 

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side. 

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents. 

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit. 

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about. 

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?” 

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.” 

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went. 

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.” 

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.” 

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right. 

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.” 

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega. 

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.” 

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” 

He hasn’t failed her yet. 

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked. 

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags. 

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment. 

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent. 

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk. 

One more to go. 

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk. 

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible. 

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane. 

“Coming, Si?” 

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared. 

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute. 

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack? 

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door. 

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly. 

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says. 

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no. 

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back. 

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.” 

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression. 

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?” 

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.” 

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it. 

You can hold power over them. 

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to. 

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile. 

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell. 

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in. 

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha. 

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”  

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs. 

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?” 

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.” 

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer. 

You nod. “Yes, sir.” 

“You lived on base?” He asks. 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.” 

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it. 

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say. 

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well. 

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.” 

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent. 

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.” 

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.” 

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks. 

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.” 

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance. 

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.” 

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails. 

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.” 

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either. 

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.” 

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting. 

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach. 

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell? 

What if they don’t like the way you smell? 

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you. 

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier. 

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.” 

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible. 

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully. 

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen. 

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack. 

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs. 

“Ready?” 

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin. 

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland. 

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others. 

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you. 

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours. 

He’s testing you. 

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl. 

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting. 

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached. 

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place. 

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?” 

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head. 

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.” 

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland. 

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you. 

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze. 

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. 

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him. 

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat. 

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper. 

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek. 

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze. 

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them. 

They could if they wanted to. 

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you. 

“You hungry, pup?” 

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work. 

Pup. Price called you Pup. 

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you. 

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment. 

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again. 

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.” 

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.” 

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out. 

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear. 

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes. 

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear. 

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing. 

He’s proving his ability as a provider. 

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can. 

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you. 

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks. 

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost. 

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult. 

NEXT ->

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

[lqvesoph]

Kingsday || LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: when celebrating kingsday with your boyfriend lando ends with a small injury, and a call from his boss

masterlist

Your boyfriend being friends with a dutch DJ, meant one thing: party, party and party. Especially on Kingsday, a day where the dutch people celebrated the King‘s birthday, or got drunk on random boats driving down the channel of Amsterdam.

You had arrived about two hours ago. Lando immediately joined Martin at the DJ desk whereas you went to get some drinks for the two of you.

Now two hours later, Lando was still with Martin, or so you hoped because you actually haven’t seen him in over 30 minutes.

"Y/n!! Y/n come here!", a voice that you recognized as Martin called. You whisked around to find the dutchman waving frantically.

You frowned and excused yourself from your conversation before making your way through the mass of people. "What’s wrong?", you shouted. "It’s Lando, come!", Martin yelled and reached a hand out for you to take.

You gladly accepted his help to guide you through the people and to your boyfriend. And lord, you almost dropped your glass when you saw Lando.

"Baby!", a drunken smile graced his face. But that wasn’t the only thing. Before there were glasses and a ribbon in the dutch colours but now there was a white bandage wrapped around his head.

"Lando, what the hell happened??", you called, hastily placing your glass on a table and rushing to your boyfriend.

"I’m so happy you’re here", he slurred, placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you into a messy kiss. You returned the kiss for a second before pulling back, holding him upright and steady.

"Baby, can you explain what happened?", you tried to again, pushing back his curls. "There were SO many people", he giggled and you tried your best to stay calm and let him finish talking. "And then I tripped and then there was an elbow and glass and suddenly ow…", his face dropped towards the end and his fingers reached up to his nose.

You held his hand back. "Don’t touch, let me see", you muttered and removed the very badly done bandage. You held his chin to move his head to the sides to get a good look at his bloody nose.

"Does it hurt?", you asked, carefully touching the brink of his nose. "Nope!", Lando grinned proudly, making you roll your eyes. "Of course not, you’re drunk", you mumbled.

"Martin, can you get my bag please? It’s with Lando’s jacket behind the DJ pult", you explained to Lando’s friend who nodded immediately and went to grab your bag.

When Martin came back you pulled tissue and sanitizer out of the black bag and cleaned up the blood around Lando’s nose. "Are you like a professional?", a guy asked, nodding at the things in your hand and your firm grip on Lando’s chin. "Almost", you chuckled. "I’m studying medicine."

"Yeah, she’s gonna be a doctor!", Lando called proudly. "Shh", you firmly said snd squeezed his chin. "It doesn’t look broken, maybe bruised but you‘ll be fine", you delivered the verdict. "You‘re the best, thank you. I love you", Lando mumbled, leaning forward to connect your lips again. A few "Aww"s were heard around you which made you smile just as Lando‘s phone started ringing.

The boy fumbled it out of his pocket, only to find his boss‘ name on the display. "Oh oh, that means trouble", Martin muttered. Seeing as you weren’t as drunk as the rest of the people around you, your reaction times were way faster. And so you reached forward to grab Lando‘s phone out of his hands to answer the call yourself.

"Lando Norris, what on earth are-", Zak‘s voice roared through the speakers. "Zak, hi, it’s me Y/n", you quickly interrupted the American who abruptly stopped talking.

"Y/n? I didn’t know you are with Lando", he sounded surprised.

"Martin invited us over-" "There’s a picture of Lando bleeding and with a bandage circulating around the internet, care to explain the situation?", Zak interrupted you, getting straight to the point.

"I wasn’t with him when it happened but according to him and various people around him, he tripped and cut his nose. Martin got me soon after and I already took a look at his nose and he‘s okay. A bit bruised, going to cause a bit of pain when putting a helmet on but he‘ll be fine. Nothing‘s broken or anything like that", you broke down the whole story to Lando‘s boss while pushing your fingers through Lando‘s curls.

He let out a sigh and you could imagine him sitting in his office chair, rubbing the side of his head. "Okay, can I talk to him for a second?", Zak said and you nodded, leaning down to Lando and handing him the phone.

"He wants to talk to you", you muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "Hiii", Lando called excitedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut with a chuckle. "Noo, I swear I‘m okay even better than okay!", he assured his boss. "Zak, I‘m fineee! Y/n is taking care of me."

"Hey Zak, did you know that dutch people-", you pulled the phone back from his ear before he could spill some stupid shit. "I‘ll get him back home in one piece, I promise", you said, ruffling his curls. "Thank you, Y/n", Zak replied before saying goodbye.

You took a deep breath and put Lando‘s phone in your back pocket. The Brit leaned his head against your stomach and closed his eyes with a content drunk smile.

"You okay?", you whispered with a smile and tapped the back of his head a few times. Lando nodded against your stomach and then looked up at you, pouting his lips to let you know he wanted a kiss. You smirked and leaned down to connect your lips.

"Okay let’s get back!", he called enthusiastically and got up, swaying a little when he stood. You wrapped an arm around his waist, doing your best to steady him. Lando naturally put his around your shoulders.

"Let‘s get you a glass of water and then we can go back, alright?", you compromised with him and dragged him over to the bar, telling the guy to hand you a glass of water.

You thanked him and turned your body to Lando, holding the cup close to his mouth. "Here you go."

Lando took a few sips and then leaned closer to your ear. "I love you", he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You giggled and pulled him into a hug. "I love you", you replied.

"Let’s go back to Martin", he then called, making you laugh. "Oh and can I please get another Vodka Lemon?", Lando turned to the barkeeper who looked at you for approval. "Okay sure", he said when you nodded.

"Drink up, come on, hop hop", you clapped his waist a few times and nodded to the cup of water. Lando nodded and down the liquid in a few seconds before grabbing the fresh cup and taking the two of you back to Martin.

"What do you think Zak would say if I get behind that DJ desk?", Lando asked you. You chuckled. "He already called you once today because he worried you broke your nose so I don’t think it can get much worse", you replied making Lando laugh. "I‘ll just say you forced me to", your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips and walking around the desk to join Martin.

"Joining in again?", the dutchman asked, putting his arm around Lando. He nodded and was quickly handed the headphones. You chuckled, pulling out your phone to take a video of Lando pressing random buttons on the DJ desk. He grinned broadly when he spotted your camera on him.

"Come here, baby!", he called you over, holding the hand that wasn’t holding his glass. You put your phone away and took your boyfriend‘s hand.

He turned you around in a swift motion, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing your body to his. You laughed out loud at the action but let him sway you from side to side.

Taking a sip from your glass you carefully pushed your hips back into his. When you didn’t get a reaction from him you did it again, this time a bit firmer. "Once is a mistake, two‘s a choice", he muttered in your ear, making you giggle.

Lando moved one of his hand down to your stomach, pressing you against him while he swayed your hips. His lips being so close to your ear meant the small breathy moan that left his lips was only for you to hear.

You turned your head so your nose was pressing against his jawline. A small kiss against his skin made him smile.

It wad Lando‘s turn to press himself closer to your back. "Okay, baby, no funny business until later", you chuckled, placing your fingers on his hands on your stomach.

"Oh, so you can tease but I can’t?", Lando chuckled teasingly and turned you around. "You can tease all you want, as soon as we’re inside our own four walls", you whispered, leaning closer to his ear.

"Promise?", Lando smirked.

"Promise!", you laughed, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss.

📍 Amsterdam, Netherlands

tagged: landonorris, martingarrix

yn: Kingsday well spent (+ Lando at the airport the next day🤭)

comments:

landonorris: Violation

> yn: U were the one who got injured…

> landonorris: U r the one who posted it

> yn: I was also the one who aided you

> landonorris: I- don’t have anything else to add🙃

martingarrix: Had the best time🧡

> yn: Thanks for having us!!

maxverstappen: Did my invite get lost orrr?

> yn: LETS GO OUT IN MIAMI!!

oscarpiastri: Mate, you looked DEAD

> landonorris: thanks a lot, MATE🙃

ybff: YOU LOOK GORGEOUS unlike a certain brit boy

> landonorris: hey!

fan: The way she still slayed at the club while Lando was wearing that neon ass hat😭

fan: All the Mclaren members laughing at sleeping Lando lmaoo

fan: Lando getting violated by his girlfriend and his girlfriend‘s best friend and his teammate😭

load more comments

[noosayog]

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 

“True. But he is an idiot.” 

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?” 

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Why not?” 

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 

“So, found a guy to take you out?” 

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 

“‘Samu…” 

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on. 

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 

“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 

“I’ll walk with ya.” 

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 

“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 

“Who?” you mumble. 

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 

“I don’t know… I just…” 

“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. 

Osamu raises his brows. 

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 

“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 

“Huh?” 

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 

“Osamu…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 

His question goes unanswered. 

– 

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 

It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter. 

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-” 

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 

“Hey, ‘Samu!” 

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 

“You just…?” he prompts. 

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 

“Missed you,” you whisper. 

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 

“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 

He stops stroking your hair. 

“What, ya don’t like it?” 

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 

You nod shyly. 

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 

“I want it.” 

“Alright. C’mere then.” 

You oblige. 

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 

You nod. 

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”